VOLG 3IK NEW SKULKS THE BEDFORD GAZETTE I- ri'Bl.tSHKn F V BUY I ill PAY MORNING BY MB.YF.BS \ BEXi-ORD, .At the following terms, to wit: T-.-.TU per annum, CASH, in advance. $'2.00 •' •• if paid w ithin the year, §2,50 " " n paid within the year. subscription taken lor less than six months. tETNo papei discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option ol the publishers. It has tieen decided by the! lilted Stales Court-, that the stoppage ola newspaper wilhoul the payment of ar rearages, is prima fnrir evidence ot fraud anil is a criminal offence. £C/" 1 tie comts have decided that persons are ac countable for tin- subscription price ol new-papers, if they take them fiom tlie po-t office, whether they subscribe lor them, or not. JJo titit ti l. Opposition to the Democratic Barn. Ever since the exi-tt'iuv of the Democratic patty, which is co eval with our confLdeiacy, it has i ad it- billet opj ononis. At its very incipi s'trcy, it had to contend will, n.anv giint intel lects and brilliant orators; but logic, in peifect harmonv w ilb our national origin, prevailed.— Men w> re made to understand, by reason, the nature ot its principles, the naluie.ii/ the fede ral compact, of State sovereignty-, and I the Hue principles of human liberty. Since that (line, in carrying out it- gicat measure#, it has had to contend with parties and factions ol al most all sizes, shapes, and complexions. S!an deiing and villitying the Democratic. party, ami imputing dishonest motives to its different Ad ministrations and to its leaders - , representing liie masses, has been, and slill is, a very common tiling. Whenever a measure was proposed by the Democratic paitv, a loud cry ti in the Op position followed, predicting thai if such ima -ure were carl ied out, ruin and general oppres sion would be the inevitable consequence.— Then followed appeals to the passions and pre judices cd men, instead of addressing then-is- Ives to the minds and hearts ol the masses. Our principles w re misrepresented and misconstru ed, and every advantage was resorted to in or der to mislead the masses as to Democratic mea sures. Regardless of ail thi.- - , the Democratic party flourished, prospered, and triumphed. Some tunes a new paily would i ise up, assuming such a formidable appearance, and gathering strength >o rapidlv, that the timid v.ouhWear its power, and predict it- final success: out "the sober, sec ond thought" would soon banish all fears, qu. II insurrectiorrs, and seditions, allay fanatic ism, blast the hopes of corrupt politicians, and .-how tu tliv- i ■ rt- llial f)|. - uiii-1: *<_• v must ami will fi nally triumph in human reason, because its foundations are deep m the human heart. For three-quarters ola century, ihe Demo cratic paity has been at the helm of our gov ernment: and lii.-tory will corroborate us in ma king the assertion, that no great mt-asure was ever passed Lv our National Legi.-lalu e which did not owe tis origin arid final success to that party. Jt guided ami shaped the publics of liie nation. The iapid progress of our country in great ness, strength, and power, since the if -volution as well as in tiie elevation of nun t > his pro per and intended sphere—lias no parallel in the history of nations. In this she stands un livafied and alone. And vet, why is it, since the Deniociacy were m the majority during the main period since the formation of our govern ment, that we, as a nation, occupy this exalted position in the great family of nations ! If th principles of our party an- filse—it it is a sham- Dt-n.oeracy, as often so termed by our oppo —why is it, we ask, that we now occupy the proud position as an asylum lor tiie oppres sed ufall naii ma .' Is it nut manifest that our principles etitbwiy, and always have embodied, (lie tiue elements requisite to a nation's great ness! The tree must he known by Ms fruit.— 'The character ol the Democratic party, and the merits and demeiits of ts principles, must be known by ru past history. The present opposition arrayed against it, with all its bitter v indietivt-ness, will not avail anything in the end. All the iactiuns marshal led against it, will soon be lorgotten, and the Snr.e will soon come when thes i-called "Amer ican Republican" party w ill be remembered on ly as a name. Then let us continue to put our trust in our old party, which has stood the storms and tempests for so many years, lot it is the only party that c<m stand. Let tiie aspiring voun" man ponder before lie connects hunselt with any other political organization. One thing is obvious, which our opponents fry this time must be thoroughly convinced of, — we mean, that THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY WILE NOT, CAN NOT, LIE. — Som-rset Democrat. DIAURIKIW. —As this is the season when the <lurrl:na prevails to the greatest extent, we pub lish the following from Hall's Journal of Healthy which we believe is considered good authority among medical men : Diarrhoea is a very common diseas • in slim mer time. Cholera is nothing more than exag gerated diarthaM. When a man dies ot diar iluva, he has died of cholera, in reality. It inav be well for travellers to know that the first, the most important, and the most indispensable item in the arrest and cure of looseness of the bowels, in absolute quietude, on a bed. Nature herself alvvys prompts tics, by disinclining us to locomotion. The next thing is, to vat noth ing but common rice, parched like coffee, and then boiled, and taken with a little salt and butter. Drink little or no liquid of any kind. Bits of ice may be eat. n or swallowed at will. Every step taken in diarrhoea, every spoonful of liquid, only aggravates (tie disease. If loco motion is compulsory, the misfoitune of the ne cessity may be lessened by having a stout piece of woollen flair uel bound tightly around the ab domen, so as to Le doubled in front, and kept well in its place. In the practice of many years, we have never faded to notice a gratify ing remit to follow these observances. E*€*r.'3'E£ V. TWO. IIIAU on ttie hiils Lord Heron dwells; Ko-alind sings on tlie moor below, Wu'ching tlie bee in tlie heather bells. Merrily swinging to ai d no. Young l.ord Heron hath left his -tate, ILiiuied a doublet ot'hodden gray. Stolen out ot tfre po-lern gate, A Mlly shepherd to wander away. Rosalind keeps the heart ol'a vhild; Gentle and tvndei and pure is she; Colin, ihe shepherd, is eon -Iy and mil.l. Tending his doek by valley oi lea. Never a swain has whispered before v'.'hat .-be hears at Ihe elose ol day: • Rose ol ro-e.s I love the more— '•More lhaii the sweet' -t words can -av '• Though I >eem but a shepherd lad. "Down Irom a stately laee I came; "hi -ilks and jewels I'll have thee clad, "And La Iy of Heron shall he thy name." llosalind blushed a rosy red, Turned as white as the hawthorn's blow, Folded her ku tlatever bvi bead, And -p, I away like a startled doe. "Ro-e of roses, come back to me 1 "Leave trie never!" Lord 11. Ron cited. "Never!" echoed from hill and lea: '•Never!" the lonely cliffs replied. Loud he mourned a year and a d.iy. But Lady Alice was fair to see; The bright sun bles-es their bridal day. And the castle hells ling nieriilv. Over the moor- likea rolling knell Rosalind hears them slo-.vly p-al, Low she mourns —"k loved turn well, •'Better I loved Lis mort il .veal. "Rest, Lord Heron, in Alice s arms! "She i- a lady ot high degree; "Ro-alind had but her peasant charms; ••Ye bad rued the day ye wedded me!" Lord Heron dwells in the castle high, Rosalind steeps on the moor below; lie loved to live, and she loved to die; Which loved trust the angels know. ill isf cll a neon s. .* THE CALICO CLOAK. 'Have you seen the new scholar ?' a-ked M i- ! ry Lark, a girl of twelve or fourteen years, as she tan to meet a gtoup of schoolmates who were coming tow aids the.school-housr 'she cuts the most comical figur<g"Vou ever saw.— ller cloak is made out of calico, ami her shoes are brogans, such as own ami boys wear.' ♦Oh, yes, I've seen her,'replied Lucy Brooks; 'she is the new washer-woman's daughter, i shouldn't hive tli night Mr. Biown would have taken I. r mt > the Academe: but i suppose he iikis tlie m HI. Y that comes through suds as well as any. It is clearer of course. And the air rang with the loud hwgh of the girls. 'Come, let us go in and examine her,' contin- ' tied Mary, as they ascended the steps ol the school-house; •] am thinking she vviil make some fun for us.' The girls jx eiit into the dressing-roorr, where they ( und the new scholar. She was a mild, : intelligent looking child, hut wry poorly,) though tidily ciad. The girls went around her whispering arid laughing with each other, while I site stood trembling and blushing in one corner ofthe room, without venturing to raise her ••yes from the floor. When they enh red school, they found the lit tle girl was tar in advance of those of Imr age in h> r studies, and was placed in classes with those two or three years her senior. This seem- : ed, on the whole, to make those girls who were ; disposed to treat tier unkindly dislike her tin inure: ami she, being ola retiring disposition, through tfuor influence, had no fi u mis, but went and returned from school alone. 'And do you really think,' said Mary Lark, as she w cut tip to the little girl a h-w weeks ut ter she entered school, 'that vou are going tu £. t the medal, ft w ill correspond will your ] cloak !' And she caught hold of tire cape, and le Id it out from her, while the gills around joined in her loud laugh. 'Calico cluak get (he medal 1 I guess she will! . J should like to see Mr. Brown giving 11 toheil said another girl as she caught hold of her arm, and peeped under the child's bonnet. The little gill struggled to release herself, and when she was free, ran home as last as she •()£$ • qiier,' site sai.l, an she entered her kite hen, 'do answer Cncle William's letter and tell him we will come to New York to live ! I don't like to live in Bridgeville. The girls call me 'calico cloak, and 'Brogans,' and you don't know, mother, how unkindly they treat me,' 'Lizzie, iny dear,' said her mother, 'you must expect to meet with those who will treat you unkindly on account of your poverty; but you must not be discouraged. Do right my child, and you will eventually come off conqueror.' Although .Mrs. Lee tried to encourage faer child, yet she knew that she had to meet with severe trials for one so young. 'But toother, they aie all unkind to me,' re -1 pi.-.; Lizzie: tnpre isn't rtne (hat loves me.' And the cliil.l buried her face in her hands and subbed aloud. In Bridge-field Academy there were a few selfish, unprincipled girls; and the others joined liu-m in teasing the little' Calico Cloak' us they called her, from thought I. ssness; and from a love f.t sport. But thev knew not how dee' !\ j each sportive word pieiced the heqit of thelil tl stranger, and how many Litler tears she shed in secret over their tinkiuduess. Mis. L- e, learning that the scholars still con tinued ttu-ir unju.-t treatment toward her child, resolved to accept her brothel's invitation, al though he was a poor man, and become a mem ber ol Lis family, hoping tli.it, while there her ' ciuld could continue her studies, ami perhaps; through Lis influence, lead a happier life a- I inong her schoolmate*. According!* al the end [ ol the term, she gained the medal, and it was worn from the Acad ;n\ beneath the dt-- pised gar.in nt. 1 We. k-. months, and years glided away to Ihe students of the Bii igeville Academy', and tlie little 'Calico CI >.ik' was forgotten. 'Those who were at school with her ha 1 left to enter upon the business of life. Twelve years after Mrs. I,and her daugh ter lelt town, a Mr. Miynard, a young clergy man, came into Bri Ige* ille and was settled as tiie pastor id the village church, it was re ported at the sewing circle, the week I ill ow ing his ordination, that lie would bring his bride into town in a few weeks. There was a great curiosity to • j e Iter, an 1 especially, after it v.j. reported that she was a talented young aut lioress. Soon after, Mr. M lynard gratified their cu riosity by walking into church with his voting wife leaning on his arm. She was a Lr.lv of great int. Ilectna! beauty, and evervbo lv (a> they ahva\s are at first) was deeply interested in the \ouiig minister and his wife. The follow ing Week the ladies fi >cked to see ; her, and she promised to meet them al the next ' gathering ofthe sewing circle. The day arrived, and it was quite ■stormy, Mrs. D. aeon Browms parlor was filled with smiling faces. The deacon's carriage wa - ■ •rit to the parsonage after Mis. Mivnnrd, an i 1 i - > in tlue time it ar.ived, bringing the la.ly with it. The shaking ol hands that foil iwed her ar rival, can only be imagined by those who have been present on such an ocr:i -i nr. 'How are you pleased with our village*?'ask 1 i d it Mrs. Billion, after the opening everc were uv. r, as she look a seat beside M:s. M tv na.'J. '1 like its appearance very much, it certain- ; Iy !ia>i improved wonderfully within the last tw.lve V'-ars.' 'Were you ever in Bi idgeville befoie ?'asked i ' another lady, as those around looked somewhat surprised. 'J was here a few months when a child,' re- j plied Mrs. Maynar.i. 'Their curiosity was excited. •Have von friends here ! asked a third alter a , * nioim-nt # silence. 'i have not. I resided with my mother, the widow L'-e. \Y <- lived in a little cottage which stood upon the spot now occupied by a !ai store, on the corner of Bine street.' 'The widow L-e?' repeated Mrs. B itton, I well remember the cottage, but I do not recol -1 L et Hie name.' 'I think 1 attended school with you a' the Academy,' replied Mis. Miynard i 'you were .Miss Mary Lark were you not ?' 'That was iny name,' replied the lady, as a smile passed over her features at being recogtii ; z-d ;'but lam leally quite ashamed that my i memory Las proved so recreant.' 'i was known in the academy as the little 'Calico Cloak. 1 Berlups you can remember me | by that name.' 1 he smile faded from Mrs. Brilton's face and a deep blush overspread her Matures, which in a few moments was seen deepening upon the j facts of others present. 1 here was a silence lor some minutes; when : Mrs. Miynard looked up, she found she hud caused^cHisiderabledisturbance among (be ladies of her own ng.* bv making herself known. 'Oh ! I remember very well when the little 'Calico Cloak' went to the academy,' said an old lady, as she looked up over her glasses, 'and 1 think, i! my memory serves me right, some ol i the ladies present will owe Mrs. Maynard an | apology.' '1 had no intention whatever, ladies,' replied I Mrs Maynard, 'to reprove any one present by | making myself known ; but, as it may seem to some that such was my intention, I will acid a lew words. M ist of the younger ladies present will remember the 'Calico Cloak ;' but no one but tiie wearer knows how deeply eacli unkind : word pierced the little heart that beat beneath 1 it. And as I again hear the old academy bell Freedom cf Th.enjSt and Opinion. BEDFORD, I'A, FRIDAY lIORXKG, AUGUST 27, 1858. " n ?) it brings back fresh to iny mind the sor rows of childhood. Hut let no laJy mistake me, supposing I cherish an unkind feeling to ward any one. I know that. v.!;„U;e. the past j may have been, you are now my friends. But, i ladies, let me add, if you have children, learn a j lesson from my experience, and treat kindly the poor and despised. A calico cloak may cover a heart as warm with affection, and as [ sensitive of sorrows, as one that beats beneath i a velvet covering. Whenever you meet a child who shows a disposition to despise the! poor, tell the story of the 'Calico Cloak it I will carry its own moral with it. ♦That is the shortest but best sermon I ever heard,' said the old lad}', again, as she put her ! handkerchief under her glasses ; 'and I do not i believe its moral effect will be lost upon any of us.' " liie old lady was right. The stoiy went from one to another until it found its wav into the old academy. At that very lime a little boy was attending school there, whose mother was J struggling with her needle to give him an ed- ; uca'.ijn. The boys often made sport of his! patched knees and elbows, and lie would run j •hbiiig home to bis mother. Isut ? when the j ♦calico cloak' reached the scholais, the little : b iy (for he was naturally a noble hearted child,) j became very popular in school : and the cliil- j dren, fiom that time, we:e very kind to 'LittleA J'atcbeVj'as he had aiwavs been called. When Mrs. iMaynard In aid the story of' Lit-! tie Buichev,' she flt that she was Weil repaid j for all she had suffered in childhood. A ICE HI i! LS- I;Y A nac ttr-LOB. To my mind there is nothing in all the world j have so beau'.ifu!, fialf so delightful, half so j loveable as a "nice girl." Id > not mean a pret- 1 iy girl, or an el-gntr girl, or a dashing girl, but i a".nee girl"—one of those lovely good temper- ! ed, good hearted, sweet faced, amiable, neat, i natty, domestic creatures, whom we meet in the j sphere of home diffusing, aiound the domestic ! h>arth the influence ol her goodness, like the j essence of sweet fkweis. What we all know bv a "nice girl" is not ' the languishing beautv, who dawdles on a sola I and talks of the last new novel, or the great ] gii life-looking girl who creates an effect by i sweeping majestically through a drawing room, j fhe "nice girl" does not even know how to play, or dance well, and site does not know a hit how louse her eyes or coquette with a fan. .-he never languishes ; she is too active for thai; I -be is not given to novel reading, for she is al- j ways too bosv ; and as to the opera, when she ores there she do.-s not think it necessary to show ; her bare shoulders, hilt sits generally away back j in the box. unheeded or unnoticed. Is it not j 7 # # in such sci lies we discover the "nice girl ?" ' i Who is it that lises first in the morning anil gets j die breakfast read* before the family comes | ciuwn ? Who is it that makes papa's toast and : carries up mamma's tea, and pats buttons on the j bov's shifts, and waters the flowers and feeds j ihe chickens, and makes everything, bright and comfortable in the parlor ? Is it the sofa beau iv, or the elegant creature By no means.— j ]• is tlie "nice gill." Her unaided toilet has : been performed in the shortest pC.'Sihle space) of time ; vet how charmingly her hair is done : j how simply elegant is her silk dress anil plain white collar! What hearty kisses she distrib utes, unasked, a nong the members'of the fanii- ; lv ! She does lint present her cheek or her , brow, like tin "fine girl, but takes the initia tive herself and kisses the hoys one after the ; other with an audible "smack, ' which says j aloud, '*l love you ever so much." She is, quite at home in all the domestic duties. She i doubles no one to "indp fill trie kettle, she has fetched it from the hob, and replenishes the teapot, while some one has been thinking about offering his assistance. Breakfast over, she dives down into Ihe kitch en to Sre about dinner, and al! day long she .s running up and down the stairs, always jovial and light hearted. And she never ceases to be active and useful until tiie day is gone, w hen she will polka with the boys, and sing old songs, j and play old tunes to her father hours together and never tire. She is a perfect treasure, is the j "nice gill-" When illness conies, it is she that attends w i:h unwearied patience the sick cham ber. Thi re is no risk, no an ount of fatigue, that she will not undergo ; no sacrifice that she w ill not make. She is all love, all devotion. I have olten thought it would be happiness to be j watched bv such loving eyes and tended by such fair hands. One ofthe most strongly marked characteris tic of a "nice girl," is tidiness and simplicity ot of dress. She is invariably associated in my mind with a high frock, a plain collar, and the neatest ol neck ribbons, bound with the most modest little broochfF in tiie woild. I ncvei j knew a "nice girl" yet who displayed a prcfu . sion of rings and bracelets, or who wore low- dresses or a splendid bonnet. Nor can I imag ine a "nice girl" with furls ; but this may be prejudice. I am quite sure, however, that "coaxers," or "co's," those funny little curls, which it has been the fashion to gum upon the cheek with | bandoline, are totally inconsistent with the. character ola "nice girl And if one whom ' [ 1 have been disposed to regard as a "nice girl" w ere to appear with her bonnet stuck on the ! back of her head, I should cease to believe in flier from that moment. The only latitude which I felt at all disposed to allow to ' to tfcy beau ideal—or should it be in this belle | ideal —is kid boots with brass heels. There is ; a nameless charm about tidy feet, which I be ! lieve the whole world recognizes*. 1 maintain j that a neat booted foot, and a well shaped ankle ! in conjunction with a clean white petticoat and ! a tight stocking, will nearlyrnake amends for a (squint. j Young men, is it not 301 Yes, you Confess it is. SECRET OF SLEEKENG WELL. There is a fund of wisdom in the following well-told story, by which adults may profit ! quite as well as children : Squire Jenkins could get no rest. lie had a noble mansion, tine pleasure grounds, and a beautiful caii iage drawn by beautilul horses.— ilis table was supplied with every luxury, and i j his friends were the most cheeriul companions plwWie world ; but still Squire Jenkius could gW' : no rest. Sometimes he went to bed eariy, and sorr.etlilies he went to bed late ; but whether i late or early it was just the same. "There is ■no peace for the wicked," and there was no | rest for Squire Jenkins, lie applied to his i friends, who told him to lake exercise, and to | lake an extraglass of grog befoie he went to bed. • lie applied to the doctor, and he gave laudanum : and opium : no sound rest could be obtained.— i At last be consulted Thomas Berlins, his gard j ener. Now Thomas Berlins was an humble j Christian, and well knew that his master feared 1 not God : that he was unjust, cruel, and op pressed the widow and tiie fatherless, and that | fns conscience troubled him ; so Thomas told S bun that old Giioeit Bowel, who lived hard by on the waste land, always slept famously but j that perhaps he wore a different kind of a night- C3 E . . . . ! Mistaking the meaning ol Thomas Perrins, j away went Squire Jenkins with one of his | best night-caps in his pocket, to exchange it for ' that of old Gilbert Powell, which he had vvash !ed and well aired : and when night came he i went to bed in good spirits, hoping to have a comfortable night's sleep : but no ! though lie put it on in all shapes, and placed himself in all postures, Squire Jenkins could get no rest. — As soon as the sun rose, he hastened to the cot tage on the waste land, to know how Gilbert Bowel had rested ; when Gilbert told him that j lie thought he had m ver had a better night's rest in all his life, and was quite delighted with 1 his new night-cap. I'erplexed and cast down, Squue Jenkins then went once mo.e to his gardener, to tell hun ot the ill success which : bad attended his plan of borrowing the uight ; caj) of Gilbert Powel. "it cannot be Gilbert's cap," said he, "for j he wore one of mine, and he tells me that he ' never had a more comfortable cap in his life. "Av, master," said Thomas Perrins, shaking j hi s head significantly, as he leaned on his spade, "but to my knowledge he wears another cap j besides the one you gave him, the cap of a quiet I conscience ; and he who wears that is sure to sleep well, let hirn wear what other cap he pleases." ; DODGING THE HATTER. —The St. Louis pa j pers are telling a good sto~y of an individual ! who purchased a hul in tiie store of a tradesman ; named Dodgion. The article was gotten in the absence ot in* proprietor, and the purchaser lelt the store, entirely forgetting (by mistake of ; course,) to pay for the aforesaid ♦' tile." The trader, upon hearing the Gets, started for the I levee in hot pursuit of the delinquent. L pon overhauling him the following scene occurred: "See here, sir, 1 wish to speak with you." "I am Dodgion, the hatter." " That's my fix." '•] tell you I am Dodgion, the hatter." "So am 1 ; lam dodgin' the hatter, loo — and very likely we are both dodgin' the same ; chap.' Tiie scene ended with a striking tableau, in which Mi. DiJdler found himself considerably ; 'mixed up' with 'Dodgion, the hatter.' [£P*The tongue of a humming bird is very curious. It has two tubes alongside of each : other, like the two tubes of a double barreled gun. At the lip of the tongue the tubes area little separated, and their ends are shaped like spoons. Ine lumey is spooned up, as we say, and then it is drawn into the mouth through the long tubes of But the bird Uses its tongue another ft catches insects with it, lor it lives on ifgSe as will as on honey. — It catches them in way : the two spoons grasp the inseet like ol tongs, and the : lonue bending, puts it into the biid's mouth. — The tongue, then, of tl% humming bird, is not i merely one instrument, tut it contain.- several j instruments together—two pumps, two* spoons I j and a pair of tongs. * i ' ARTESIAN WKEI.. —The State of Ohio is dig ging an artesian well at Commbus, in tiie capi tol vard, and the contractor has completed his contract of boring 1,750 ft; but it is found necessary to bore still further, and to prevent) leaving, it is contemplated to enlarge the bore: and tube with cast iron pipe. 1000 feet of I solid rock has been penetrated. The water in the well lacks thirty feet of reaching the surface j of.the earth. WBIOLT: MTIIIER >Sl' SILENCE. In silence mighty things are wrought— Silently builded, thought on thought, Truth's temple greets the sky : And, like a citadel with lowers, The soul, with her subservient powers, Is streugthen'd silently. Soundless as chariots on the snow, I he saplings of the forest grow To trees ol mighty girth ; Each nightly star in silence burns, And every day m silence turns The axle of the earth. The silent frost, with mighty hand', Fetters the rivers adn the land Witn universal chain ; And smitten by the silent sun, 1 he chain is loosed, the rivers run, The lands are free again. STEEL I'EXS. The immensity of this manufacture is hardly conceivable, yet it s a source of industry and wealth to a large number of enterprising and ingenious manufacturers. The number of steel pens annually produced in Birmingham, Eng land, is said tobe upwards*of one thousand mil lions. One establishment has the distinctive markets of five hundred different dealers in all parts of England, as well as on the continents of Europe and America, for whom the pens are manufactured according to order. The method of forming the pen or nib from the metal is rap !id and curious. It is thus described: The of steel are reduced to the requisite ten uity by successive transits through the rolling mill, operations tended by men and boys. When reduced to (he thinness of a steel pen, length a bout two teet, breadth two and a half to three inches, the sheets are ready for punching out the blanks. Ihe process is performed with great rapidity, one girl of average industry and dexterity being able to pumch out about one hundred gross a day. The next operation is to place the blank in a concave die, on which a slight toucli from a convex punch produces the requisite shape—that of the semi-tube. The slits and apertures to increase the elasticity and the maker's or vendor's name or mark are pro duced by a similar fool. Previously, however, the pen undergoes a variety of other processes. When complete, all but the slit, it is soft and pliable,and may be bent or twisted in the hand like a piece of thin lead. Being collected in grosses or great grosses, the pens are thrown in to liltie iron square boxes and placed in a fur nace, where they remain till box and pen are of a white heat. They are then taken out, and thrown, hissing hot, into pails or tanks of oil, w hen they may be broken like so many wafers; after draining, they are made to revolve rapidly in a perforated cylinder. DECIDEDLY RICH. —The following incident which occurred in a neigboring citv, is too good tobe lost : As Judge W. was walking the street, a woman hurried out from her houae, and mistaking him for her husband, expected from California, accosted him "Oh, Joseph, Joseph." The Judge solemnly presen ting to tier the palms of his open hands, grave ly enunciated "Stop, madam ; I am no Joseph." The woman seeing her mistake, quietly replied, "Excuse me, sir; my husband's name is Joseph, not Potiphar," and turning she left the Judge to cogitate on who was ahead. QF"'As I was going," said an Irishman, "over WVstmnister Bridge, the other day, I met Pat Hewings. Says I, 'How are you ? 'Pretty well, I thank you, Dooley,' says he. Says I,' I hat's not my name.' 'Faith, no more is mine Hewings,'says he. So we looked at each other, and faith, it turned out to be neither of us. UFA farmer sowing his ground, some dan dies came riding along that way, when one of them called to him with an insolent air Well, honest fellow, it is your busines to sow, but we reap the 'fruits of your labor.' To which the countryman replied : 'lt is very likely you may, for I am sowing hemp.' [IF" Upwards of one thousand bushels of rasp berries have been gathered on the mountains near Cresson this year. As much as thirty bushels per day, have been shipped on the Pennsylvania Railroad to Pittsburg, and other intermediate towns and stations. So say's the Ilallidaysburg Register. TFAn editor out West has been fined s'2oo for hugging a pretty young giil in church.— Daily *9rgus. Cheap enough ! We once hugged a girl in church some ten years ago, and the scrape has cost us a thousand a year ever 3ince.— Chicago j&nerican. fJF'Jolios what part ob de seremonies do ladies roost admire when dey go to de church ?' 'Well Pompev, I can't tell what dat is; can you tell ?' 'l\ by, yes nigga; don't you see dey observe de hints.'' (TF'What makes you spend your time so freely, Jack ?' 'Because it is the only tiling I have to spend.' [IF'My Lov, what does your mother do for a living ?' was asked of a little bare-footed ur chin. 'She eats cold vittles, sir.' OF"When is the weather favorable to hay making ? When it 'rains pitch-forks.' B-'ing ourown masters, sometimes means that we arc to be the slave of our own follies, ca prices and passions. Virtue is the surest road to longevity, but vice meets with an early doom. VOL % NO. 4.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers