"Gentlemen and friends: I am not guilty of the murder of Adam Weaver; I did not kill him. I hope you will all live to one day find out who was the guilty man. I believe my Jesus is waiting to receive my poor soul. I am not guilty of Weaver's murder. I was there, but did not kill him." He then knelt down and joined in prayer. After prayer was over, he stood up, and stepped on the scaffold again, to have the fatal rope placed around his neck. While the rope was being adjusted, he prayed audibly, and his last words on earth were: "Sweet Jesus, take me to thyself. O, Lord, forgive me for all my sins;" and again, as the person who escorted him was tightening the rope, he said, "For God's sake don't choke me before I am hung." Then, when the black cap was drawn over his eyes, he seemed to know that in a few seconds he would be consigned to "that bourne from whence no traveler returns," and said, "Lord, have mercy on my soul." The words were scarcely uttered, when that which was, a few moments before, a stout, healthy man, was nothing but an inanimate form. As the "black cap" was about being put on him, Sarah Ann Weaver, the youngest daughter of the murdered man, Adam Weaver, made her appearance inside the square, and quite close to the scaffold. She asked Captain Goodwin and Major Wiles the privilege of adjusting the rope around his neck, but they would not grant it. She is a young woman of about seventeen years, rather prepossessing and intelligent looking. She stood there unmoved, while the body hung dangling between heaven and earth. She seemed to realize that the murderer of her father had now paid the penalty with his life. I asked her what she thought of the affair, and she curtly remarked: "He will never murder another man, I think." After the body had remained about fifteen minutes swinging in the air, and surgeon Dorr pronounced life extinct, it was cut down and put in a coffin. The assemblage departed, some laughing, some crying, and some thinking of the fate of the deceased. GENERAL A. J. SMITH vs. RUSTY GUNS. Last winter General Smith's head-quarters were on board the steamer Des Arc; he was in command of a division of Grant's army. One day, on a trip from Arkansas Post to Young's Point, there were on this boat three companies of a nameless regiment. Now it happened that these men had rather neglected to clean their guns, which the sharp eye of the old veteran soon discovered. It was in the morning of our third day out, the wind was blowing terribly, and the weather unusually cold, rendering it very unpleasant to remain long on the hurricane-roof, that the General came rushing into the cabin, where nearly all the officers were comfortably seated around a warm stove. "Captain," exclaimed the General, in no very mild tone, addressing himself to the commander of one of the aforesaid companies, "have you had an inspection of arms this morning?" "No, General," timidly replied the Captain, "I have not."