Terns of Publication. TIOBA COUNTY AGITATOR is published T ll Thursday M° raln gi ani mailed to subscribers e«T ■ , ' ;; ONE doluh.pbr " . f n advance. It.os Intended to notify every ffhcn the term for which ho has paid shall fub ' pird, by the stamp—"TufE Out,” oh the mar ta TC !s|. last paper. Tha paper will then he stopped gift 0 farther remittance he received. By this ar tt:l \nf no man can be brought in debt to the Tift?® l * Gr rATOB is the Official Paper of the County, and steadily Increasing circulation reach *i‘:. e rery neighborhood in the County. It is sent to any Post Office’within the county whoso most convenient post office may be County. se ss Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper inclu . f *55 per ThSMOSMOBiY. BICKISSOX BOISE CORNING, 'N.T. B C. Proprietor. ’ wfftg to and from the Depot free of charge. S. B. BROOKS, httorneyand counsellor at law A IXKLASD, TIOGA CO. PA. ~I o tht nnltitmle ol Counselors there is eafety.”- Sfpt-23. ISSS.Ir. " j)it. W. W- WEBB, OFFICE over Cone’s Law Office, first door below Farr's Hotel. Sights he will bo found at his re.-Jence. first door above the bridge on Main Street, towards Samuel Dickinson’s. PBNJt S V liV AN I A HOUSE. vrELLSBOI’.O’. PA. 1. V. TAYLOR, PROPRIETOR. pepnlar l.ou=e i« coutrally located and coSmenj S tl.o patronage ot the travellmg Public. , •Nor. M. IKS, l.r. j_ DARTT, »E» TIST. Oj/ice at hi* Residence, near the Academy. All work pertaining to ills line of business done romptly and warranted [April 22, 1858.] AM EKICAIV HOTEL. CORNING, N.Y., • B FREEMAN, .... Proprietor. Meals, 25 cts. Lodging?, 25 ot?. Board, 75 cts. per day. Corning, March 3i, 1559. (iy.) SPENCER & THOMSON, Attorneys & Counselors at law, CORNING, i iStenben County, New fork. | Gpo. T. Spencer. C. H. Thompson. April IS, 1555. —ly- ______________ Hydropathic Physician and Surgeon. EIKIASD, TIOGA COUNTY, PA. Will visit paiienls in all parts of the County, or re ceive them for treatment at his house. [.Tune 14,1855.] S. F. WIUSON, 2t?~ Removed to Jan. Lowrnj's Office. lAS. lOWREI & S. P. IViISOH, ATTORNEYS i COUNSELLOKS AT LAW, will alEcml the Court of Tioga, Pottor and McKean c-'iiiuies. [Wellsboro*, 1 : eb. 1,1553.] GAINES HOTEL. H. 0. VERDULYEA, PROPRIETOR. Gaines, Tioga County, Pa. Tins well known-hotel is located within easy access of the best fishing and hunting grounds in Xortbern Pa, Xo pains will bo spared for the accommodation of pleasure seekers and the traveling public. April 14. 1559. COUDEKSPORT HOTEL, COCDEUSPORT POTTER CO., PENXA. D, P. Glassmire - - - Proprietor. Tins HOTEL is located within an hour’s drive of the he«d waters of tho Allegheny, Genesee, and "uiqueh.uma rivers. No efforts are spared to make it a home for pleasure seekers during the trouting sea fou, and for the traveling public at all times. Jan. 2T, IS59*, ly. WATCHES’ THE Subscriber has pot a fine aasortment of heavy EXOEISH LEVER HUNTER-CASE Gold and Sliver Walclics, which be will sell cheaper than "dirt” on 'Time/ i. c. hi will sell ‘Time Pieces’ on a short (approved) credit. All kinds of REPAIRING done promptly. If a jab of work is not done to the satisfaction of the party urdering it, no charge will he made. Past favors appreciated and a contiuance of patron ace kindly solicited. ANDIE FOLEY. "Wcllsboro, June 24, ISIS. JOHN B. SHAKESPEAE, TAILOR. HAVING opened his shop In the room over IVtn, Roberts Tin Shop, respectfully informs the cumins of Wellshoro’ and vicinity, that he is prepared to etwute orders in his line of business with prompt ness and despatch, hoping by strict attention to busi es to merit the confidence and support of those who may favor him with their orders. Cutting done on short notice. Wellsboro, Oct. 21, ISSS.—Cm Corning Book Store. THE Subscribers have removed to the large and elegantly fitted up Brick Store—four doors east Concert block, Corning—and will keep on hand a large assortment of New Books, among which are Religions Standard Works, HISTORICAL BOOKS, Tiles of Fiction, Poetical Works, School Rooks, SHEET MUSIC, Blank?, Stationery and Wall Paper, N. Y. Daily and Weekly papers, all the Magazines at Publishers prices. Ah Ar«ale very cheap. ROBINSON & CO. _ Coining. Sept. 24, ’57. __ WEIXSBOKO’ ACADEMV. Wellaboro’, Tioga County, Penna* Letter R. Barling’ame, A. B.; - - Principal Miss ELIZA J. BEACH, - - - - - Assistant. The Fall Term will commence Wednesday’, Aug. and dose Friday Kov. 11. Tuition. .'nTi-tnle Dopartmeut. KngUbh Branches, English Brunches', J-mguagtt., drawing, (extra) s2,r»o . 5.50- - 5,00 3,00 By order of Trustees, " _ J, P DONALDSON, PreSt Aog. 4, 1859. §W STOVE AND TIN SHOP! S®. OPPOSITE ROY’S DRUG 'Uicre you can huy Stoves, Tin, and Japanned TTare for one-half the usual prices. . : ar geNo, 8 Elevated Oven Cook Stove and Trim °»»g. for $15,00. Tililmla of Tin and Hardware 10 Proportion for Ready Pay. t will p a y any one who wants anything in this lino s*ll and see our prices before purchasing elsewhere, the plh.ce— two doors south of ‘Farr’s Ho ’ot opposite Roy's Drag Store. CALL AND SEE! A Pnl2J,iBs9. 1. H. D. DEMING, that 3 !? l s e *P ec ifally announce to the people of Tioga County. l*ear* e rx now P r4 3*rcd to fill all orders for Apple, Pear, l \Z~' ( - lltrr y, Nectarine, Apricot, Evergreen and Deciduous tree*. Also Currants. Raspberries, Gooseberries, j tle| and Strawberries of all new and approved yari- of Hybrid,Perpetual and Sum- ' mer Hoses, Moss, Bourbon, Noisette, Tea, Ctrl!!* China, and Climbing Hoses. V Including all the finest new ra- Iteuri. r-i 1 rieties of Althea, Calycantbnft w* **daca, Spiraea, Syringitis. Viburnums, Wigilias Ac. f U)\ypßg Paeonioa. Dahlias, Phloxes, Tulips, llsj, Hyacinths, Naxciisls;, Jonquils, Lit- OriJm Haut-bota Strawberry. 4 dor. plants, $5. solicited, f r otaptlv7t»L “ r . Grft WDg, Budding or Pruning will be tkf il to. AddreH* p . '• w - U. D. DBMING, Wellsboro, Pa. THE AGITATOIt ) • v . 77 ; --■ 1 ——-- - - Sehotefr 10 the of the of iFmhom nun the of'healths 3&t£ornt. H VOL. VI. LITE BRAVELY. The world is half darkened with crosses. Whose burdens are weighing them down * They croak of their stars and ill usags * •And gropo in tho ditch for a mown. Why talk to the wind of thy fortune, Or clutch at distinction and gold? ■ 1 If thou canst not reach high on the ladder. Thou canst steady its base by thy hold. Bor the flower, though Hid in the corner. Will as faultlessly finish its bloom, Will reach for a sparkle of sunshine. That clouds have not dared to consume. And wofildst thou be less than a flower *k°°ght, and a brain, and a hand? WiU wait for the dribbles of fortune, When there’s something that these may command ? There is,food to be won from the furrow— And forests that wait to be hewn, There is marble untouched by the chisel, Days that bleak on the forehead of June. Will you let the plow.rust in the.furfow— Unbuilded a home or a hall? 2?or bid the stones wake from their silence— And-fret, as if fretting were all ? Go, learn of the blossom and ant-hill; There’s something thy labor must give, Light the beacon that pierces the tempest, Strike the clod from thy footing, and live. Live not trail with thy face in the dross heap. In the track of the brainless and proud, Lift the cerements away from thy nnanhotfd, Thou'rt robbing the dead of a shroud. There are words and pens to bo wielded, There are thoughts that must die if unsaid, Wouldst thou saunter and pine amid roses, Or sepulchre dreams that are dead ? Ko, drag thy hope to the pyre, Dreams, dead from the ashes will rise, Look not down upon earth for its shadow— There is sunlight for thee in the skies. For the Agitator, Leaves hy the Wayside. BT AGNES. “I wish I had a picture there!” emphatically exclaimed Annie Etherton, as she brought down her hand upon the bare wall of her parlor. “I cant help it Edmon, but whenever my eye rests upon this whole side pf the house, I wish I had a picture to place upon it.” Our carpet, and furniture is good enough, although it falls far below tapestry and velvet. lam proud of my little home, Edmon, because you and I live here—But— ‘‘But what Annie?” asked the husband. ‘‘You know Edmon my passion—my weak ness you may call it, for paintings. I cannot help it 1 It makes me better, purer, wiser, as I look upon some such conception of the soul, so beautifully, so truthfully brought before the world, by human artistic bands.” “Yes Annie, we will sometime fill that ob noxious corner with a picture, but not note, ‘the times are too tight.’ ” Annie knew that “the times had been tight” with her husband for many years, yet broad acres of ground had stretched themselves farther, and farther, until for the distance the eye failed to take in the glowing beauty of their productions. Annie had like £ true help-male toiled by his side.— While he' battled with life for her, she had worked in her department for him. Years sped by, yet they brought no painting, as an oasis for the dark side of Annie’s parlor. Her only picture was a stream of jvater close by the house. Many an idle hour had she traced the strange beauty of its placid waters —as hills, foliage and sky made a picture upon its surface, more exquisite, than the mortal main could put upon canvass. v‘Edmon, dear Edmon!” exclaimed Annie, ‘‘such good news! Cousin Kate is coming to see us! Long years have gone by. since I have seen her; and you have never seen her! She was good, and beautiful then. I wonder if she is so now ?” “When does this cousin of thine arrive?” Before Annie had time to answer, the sound of wheels coming up the gravel walk to their gate, caused them both to run to the window. “Kate, cousin Kate," exclaimed the wife, and away she flew, and such a time of kissing and shak ing of hands, as followed. “My husband, Edmon' Etherton ; Cousin Kate Andrewsaid Annie, as she led the way into the house. Kate wascordially received by Mr. Etherton, who at first glance rather liked the cousin’s physiognomy. Kate was shown to her room. After her bon net and shawl was removed, she proceeded to bathe her face and hands in cold water, which freshened, and brightened her dark complexion. As the brush laid smooth her dark locks, Annie exclaimed, “Just as good looking as ever Kate 1 how is the heart ?" “Perhaps not quite so wicked, and warm, as when you and I used to sit beneath the apple trees in old Massachusetts. Annie I have seen sorrow—such sorrow, as your heart is a stran ger to. I will not darken our first meeting with a recital of it. But when the earth is shrouded in darkness, and we are alone, I will tell you all." “Thy sorrows shall be mine, dear Kate. Let me kiss those lips again, then we will go to my liege lord and dinner.” That morning, when the ladies were sleeping —the lights were burning—and quiet brood ed over the household and nature. Kate An drew with folded arms and quivering lips told her story. “You know how I married. I had so often heard of Morton Andrew, that he was no stran ger to me, when I met him. It was not the beauty of the face, that attracted me, for he was plain, oh,.very plain! hut I knew his soul was strong, lofty in its aspirations, reaching for a pure atmosphere, above the temptations and allurements of the world. I loved him madly, and he loved me with such faith, as few women obtain. One year after our marriage we went to Italy to add a finish to my husband’s genius, for you know Annie, he was an artist. How happy was that year, and yet —I was not quite happy. My husband was a devotee to his art, I liked paintings, but could never give them but a passing glance. They wore no study to me. As I walked with my husband through the long corridors of the Vatican, or the mag nificent rooms of the Pitti palace amid a wil derness of sculptures, and paintings from the hands of the great masters of jmoiont and mod ern Italy. I could not follow" the soarings of his spirit, as his eye grew bright in the spirit worshipping of the forms of beauty around him. As day, after day went by, I grew weary, moody, nay, jealous! of what? of Morton’s ideal forms of worship. As we become mould- THERE SHALL BE A -WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTHj “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN”"SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST, CONTINUE. A WELLSBOEOj "HOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 15,-1850. ed to whatever opi minds turn to, so my strange hallucination grew upon me. I sant.j down— until I lost sight of my love and dully to my husband. Morton strove in vain to revive my spirits—but there was no answering echo in my bosom to his smiles and caresses. At last he ‘grew weary—hopeless—then came omj total es trangement. One day he came to mej with an open letter in his hand. “My roothet is sick, we must in three days sail for America!” he said. As I,looked upon his pale facefl longed to throw m'y arms about his neck, and ask "for forgiveness. But you know Annie, now hard it is for me to make the first advance. If he had only said one word, I would have been at his feet; never raised his eyes from the letter, but turned and' (walked from me. In three days after, we bade adieu to sur ny Italy. As I looked over “the dark blue Sea” how my heart thrilled at the thought of h jme, and friends. I felt that perhaps the unrest in my bosom might find solace among the friends of my youth. The fifth day we experienced a terril >le storm. As I looked *wildly around mo, and saw the waves running up mountains high in the gloom about me, I heard the cry that our vessel was sinking. “What wild confusion ensued. Strong men looked about them in silent despair, ■while pale women clung to them and prayed. The boats were lowered. As I clung to Horto i, and re fused to go without him, he took me in his arms, and kissed me—then firmly said, “Ton must go Kate. I will follow when it comes my turn.” I went Annie, for I supposed he wc uljd come soon—but as we shot out into the sea, I saw my husband with clasped bands, and wildly strained eyes standing upon the helm of the vessel. I knew no more. When I again opened my eyes they rested upon a cabin beautifully fur nished. . j “Thank God she is alivecame from the -jel tru.. lips of Mrs. D , one of'.my fellow passen gers. We had been taken up by a vessel home ward hound. Annio you know the rest. How bis months ago I landed in New York. Have I found rest for my soul ? Often such darkness creeps over my brain, that X feel I tread far b iyond the boundaries of that twilight ground of which the Greeks and Romans had such veneration. If I had cast no shadow on his life, I might look up. But that last terrible piiture, that God painted for mo, in which my Mor :on helped to fill the foreground, hangs in the chambers of my soul, a haunting phantom which will follow me through life. The nest morning a cheery voice dried out at the front door, “Is Ann at hum ? Ho t do Ann? Come airly you see 1 Cant do as folrs do now a-days ; why they go skiting along in their Jur be-lows and crispiny-pina, with their littletclam shell bonnets lying upon their baccs, just at dark, to drink tea with some friend When I was young them were the hours that lie women went home to milk the cows and dig the taters for breakfast. You needn’t faugh ; the men folks in them days didn’t stick cott m in their ears when they went to the breakfast table for fear some low sperited wife would entertain him with the news that some Bridget had been in the practice of wiping her face with the dish cloth, or cooking chickens in embryo for break fast. In them days the women fqund some thing to talk about beside their hired gals— which the women folks now days calhsueh “mis erable critters,” yet cant do without. Then Ann, it used to be a misfortune to be sick—so it is now with some of the folks. lut when I see women leaving their babies to busses and cordial, and themselves cantering to ill manner of fashionable springs, swiling down water that the dog wouldn’t look at—l tl ink they’d better be at hum scrubbing the kite ten, which would make their blood circulate healthfully. Then so many men and women wouldn’t have such tragical separations, that cause the world to weep for them ; and then, when they come together again, makes the folks mid to think how they are fooled! Deer me 1 how nice your parlor looks 1 You oughter to have that picter that my nephew brought here last week, to hang right up hero,” said Aunt Betsey, placing her hand upon the wall, where I bad o ton wished to place one. “Is'it a pretty picture aunty 1” I ai ing it might be a Beatrice, or Anj pipe stem curls, unearthly bright some Napolebn, or Byron, or Tom 51 ing at her feet. “slay be Ann, you would like it ;J it is a ves sel at sea, the thunder and lightning com ing about it like all natur, while my nephew stands on it, with his two big eyes, as big as my two fists, staring at a beautiful lady in white, in a boat which hops from pne wave to another like blazes. Deer me it makes me kinder weak at my stomach when I think of it.” So aunt Betsey walked to the wltfdow to hide the tears that came to her honest e; res. “Why Ann who is thatl” she asked as she pointed to Kate who had run out ir to the yard, after a brush which had fallen from the window. She wore a white robe with her lo ig hair fall ing about her, as she had just commenced to arrange her hair, when laying her brush upon the window it fell to the ground. “That aunty, is cousin Kate.” What a fright she gave me; sht like the woman in the boat in that “Where is your nephew aunty ?’ “Oh, he is at my house, poor fell dreadfully about his wife he says, er quiet about his own affairs, i much about him, although he ha me some of the time ever since he “What is his name aunty ?” “Mutton,” she replied. I felt a: pulse to see the picture; so I “aunty, I will order the horses. ride around to your house and see I can neither eat, drink or sleep, seen it.” “And like Belvidere Ai tiful worshipper, whose blood been marble, will you my sweet Ann] blood turned to oil or paint?” el husband, as he entered, “To, neij tor—l will cause the blood of- oth« high tide to-night. So hurry, au bring Kate. It bad been my ci aunt Betsey riding whenever ehi me; so she did not marvel at my present pro seeding. As we rolled over the road shaded by sugar maple trees, and looked upon the farms with their golden harvests; I saw Kate’s eyes dilate with pleasure—then they would be quenched in gloom. “Do Kate, let sweet nature coax you out of your sorrow. Don’t resist, I whispered. “Annie, I feel strange—as if some joy was coming to me. I must resist Annie, for never a moment must I forget the dead who sleeps alone beneath the billows.” Just then we ‘ drove beneath the shadows of the elms which stood with other trees for a half a mile around auntie's cottage. As we passed into her parlor, I took up a hat that stood upon the table. It had a weed about it but bore no name inside as I had hoped. “That's my nephew's last. It looks as mourn ful as he does poor feller. That picture I am going to show you Ann, he (I am afraid you will think him lubberly) cries over morin half of his time. Don't eat enough to keep the breath of life in him; that's what worries me most. X guess after he stops hankering after *7ter, 9 as he calls his dead wife he will not be so pimping. Time is a great smoother of grief.” “Show me the picture alone auntie,” I whis pered. So aunt Betsey handed around peaches. While the rest of the party were eating I fol lowed my aged relative from the room. As I closed the door after me, I met Kate's eyes.— There was wonderment in them, and a pleading to be taken along. “Perhaps it is not what I wish it may be,” I mentally said as I followed auntie into a neatly furnished apartment.— There was the picture ': A vessel at sea—dark ness above and around it—'as the storm beat upon it, and it surged mountains high upon the black waters ; the vivid lightning revealed deg- 1 pairing men clinging to it. One man clung to the helm of the vessel and watched a ,boat full of passengers. In the middle stood—yes cous in Kate in a white robe with her hair tossed upon the winds, while she stretched her arms imploringly to the man at the helm - of the vessel. I wept as I looked upon her—l wept as I saw the misery depicted in that picture.- In a moment of forgetfulness I cried, “Will not Christ still those waves 1” A groan fell upon my oar. I turned and there stood Kate white as marble, with her eyes fixed in one strong concentrated gaze upon the picture. “Kate,” I cried, “he is alive ! ,f - She fell to the floor. “Massy sakes!” cried aunt Betsey; “is she dead? Hero Mutton! here Mutton! bring water; here is a gal fainting over your fright of a picture!” A light step was heard; the door opened arid Kate was snatched from my arms, as the words, “I thank thee father!” fell upon ray ears. I hurried them all from the room; for I knew a scene too sacred for my gaping children and the rest of us, would ensue when Kate recovered her consciousness. In one hour Kate and her husband joined ns. • Her eyes were red with weeping, but such joy as we deem, dwells in the eyes of angels, beamed from hers. We all went back to our house to tea. Good aunt Betsey hurried not home to milk the cows, as she listened to Morton Andrew’s recital of his night of suffering and terror—of his escape from the vessel upon a plank which in a short time carried him to the friendly assistance of a vessel which did not bring- him homo quite as soon as he desired, but which, thank Heaven, had brought him there at last. The next morning the sun peeped into my parlor and threw a bright ray of light in .defi ance upon my picture of the “wreck at sea”— which now hung in pleasing contrast with my statuary of living curly headed children, and a fond husband, and my united cousins—who for no strange fancies may never walk apart in life. Jenha ffndcth a Location.—He hnldeth ap office under the Government , and there becometh acquainted with the focal-Litterati.—He aendeth a contribution from Jfias Vcrdvjria, &c., . Ocrtottx, State. You may remember, slr. Editor, that I told you in ray last letter, that I was about to leave “for parts unknown”; and that when I got there, you might hear from me again. Well! I am here at Ourtown, no matter what State ; but ’tis as good a State as you or any other man lives in. Dont think I mean State of Mat rimony. ..Vo sir; old bachelors forever! Our town is quite a nice littlo and I am con tented, well pleased with the people and with my. business. I am clerk in the Post Office ; not that our P. M. is so overwhelmed with busi ness, but he is farming, building &0., and is away much of the time, and I am his deputy. So I can fancy myself in the employment of the United States government, and if slr. Har ris is P. M., why not I, D. P. 51. ? That name of-mine hasn’t troubled mo here. Once how ever, “my heart was in my mouth.” At a small tea party, a lady of a certain age noted for an inquiring mind, exclaimed, “Do tell me slr. Jonks what your first name might be?”— I thought of the old answer “it might be Sam Patch, but it isn’t,” but I replied, “Cant you guess? So the girls began. One said Jarvis, another Jenner, another Julius, &e., till Kate Stevens declared there was a reason for all things, and she believed I had one for not tel ling my name. Perhaps, said she, his mother made a blander and gave him a girl’s name, Jemima, or Jerusha; or may be his name is Japhct, or Jeptha, or Jer-(good gracious! I thought she was going to say Jcmhhaal)-emiah ! Kate Stevens, you be be-have very oddly I retort'pd. If Jack Stevens had said that, in stead of his little black-eyed sister I might: have finished my sentence differently. sked, think eeline, with jeyes; with wore, kneel- looks just picture. Ipr; takes on He is kind dont know S lived with was a boy. n inward im exclaimed — and we will this picture, until I have f polio’s beau me frozen to ie have your Ixolaimed my kher, tormen jrs to flow at !nty, while I istom to take , camo to see Well! to return to the Fust Office. There are'quite a number of literary young people here, you must know, and I am asked quite often, if there are letters for Nimrod Nimshi, or Beverly Beehive, for Violet Veriligris, or Paulina Puddingstick. To-day I came early to the office, despatched the morning mail, and sat down to read the “Atlantic.” sly first visitor was Susie Wallace, a sweet little country girl, with eyes as blue as wood violets, and cheeks and Ups tinted like her own roses.' -To, her gay For the Agitator. Letter From <l. Jenks. “good morning” I repUccP.by putting a letter post marked,“Boston,'' and smile ware .pretty epongh to reward me, if I had brought it all thd iway myaeif. often has letters from They arcflarge, fair missives, by rather an unpracticed hand, and closed by enormous red wax seals. Her young-friend ignores self-sealing envel opes. He is' probably of an’economical turn, and having years ago-laid in a stock of wax, and the stamp) “Jottb,” whidrornamcntsall bis* letters, he wishes now to make a proper use of them! Who knows bathe may be the veritable “young fellah JFghn” by the Profes- ; few quiet moments, and then Mr. Thomas Smith, otherwise Beverly Beehive. Any letters, Jenks? , I 'handed him one. He tore it open and read it, the frown on his brow growing deeper and blacker, like a gathering thunder cloud. “Dom'd foin that, cool too, precious cool; read it sir, and see what a reward genius receives in these degenerate days.” I read as follows: r “B^B.—Sir—Tour articles are not needed at this office, and we beg that we may sec no more of them. It is not our custom to return a re jected manuscript, but we do so this time,with the express request that you will keep it, and all future effusions, where wc may not be troub led by thera.”l I read the pome, entitled, “La of the broken hart,” and my conscience not allowing me to blame the editor, I merely remarked as I hand ed back the documents, ‘ l I am not a judge of these things-Mr. Smith,” and Mr. Smith left, disgusted with the world in general and editors in particular. I read, wrote, opened the mails, distributing letters and papers to all sorts of customers, till two o’clock came, and with it Miss Sally Peters, alias Violet Verdigris. Sbc colored, hesllated, and finally said, *T* have a favor to ask.” Granted, if possible Miss Vio let, I replied with more gallantry than prudence. “I have written some, as you know for our pa per here” (I bowed) “but Mr. (our editor) has not soul or sentiment enough to appreciate my efforts. Ills early days arc past, he laughs at romance, and actually said to me the other day, “Miss Sally I’ll give you a silver thimble if you won’t; send me another line of poetry, and my advice is, dont write it.” But said I, when the muses invite me, and the full tide of feeling is gushing through my soul, what can I do? “Mend!your father’s stockings” said old Mr. Practical. (At this juncture it was hard to control my feelings but I succeeded and Miss Violet continued) —“You have a paper at W., where you came from ?” Certainly and it is a paper too. “Do you know the editor ?” Oh yes. “Is he! young or old, sentimental or the reverse ?” 1 rejoined, he is young; as to sentiment I dont know exactly. “Would he be so unfeeling and harsh to budding < ..lent as our editor here?” I should not take to be an unfeeling monster, I replied, and then friend Young, -she |handed me what follows. Tow don’tfrown and say, confound that Jenks, what does he mean by sending me such trash 1 I had to do it, lor swear you were old, utterly de void of taste; &c. Tow read as I did: ‘ NIGHT Oh! how I love the night; when the brazen sun has sunk to somnolent rest, surrounded by auriferous clouds, and darkness hangs like a black pall on Nature’s face. Then gentle Luna shows her silvery orb, attended by no end of diamond stars. The wind mourns like a lover’s sigh, the tall! trees wave like angel’s wings, and the god of sleep scatters poppies all rounds— The bold staring sun may do for the worldly and practical! {’Us quite a handy institution— Jenks) but all those who are full of soul and sentiment, love night. It matters not if ’tis dark and drep,r—so are some lovely hearts.— Dark, wild ajnd gloomy may be the lot of many. And the moon looks down with pity on such tender hearts, tlie stars shine kindly, and the bitter winds rage and roar like the storm of sorrow, andjthe rain falls in torrents from the skies, like the briny tears that course down their pale and wasted cheeks. ’Tis ever so—the gift ed and the High-souled are frowned on by a cold world. ( Violet Verdigris. “I will send it,” said I. “You said that editor was young and sentimental,” queried sliss Vi olei. Yoirxc, yes certainly, and sentimental— well yes—l Ishould think he was at quite a sen timental periocrof life. “Not married?” No, oh no, sliss Violet—certainly not-, and your fair correspondent departed, and the D. P. 31. hid his face jin the N. Y. Tribune and laughed “most cqnsumedly.” He had a reason for that laugh. Yours truly, J. Jznks. For"111g Agitator. I Old Memories. We live oyer again the ideal past, for as day after day, weeks, months and years pass by, we forget the trials and temptations wo have past through and look back upon those days as bright and beautiful pictures of perfect enjoyment. 'Near and dear friends are again at our side, breathing in accents low, some cherished strain —touching some vibrating cord, which by them attuned produces sweetest melody ; and we arc ready to exclaim, “What blissful hours we then enjoyed.” No .cloud, as we now remember, darkened for a moment, the horizon of our hap piness. Let us pause. Has not memory de ceived us ? | Were we really then so much more happy than now? Were those dear ones so true, and these so false ? Were they so lovely, and these so unlovely ? It is a beautiful belief that they had no specks of our evil natures in them, but.j a deceptive one—calculated it is true, to make our memory of them very pre cious ; yet, by comparing the real of to-day, with the remembered of years ago; how apt we are to wrong our friends, to think the pres ent,all crosses, and our lot one of bitterness. There are [many reasons why the past should appear mote beautiful than the present, for os year after year rolls onwiu-d, wo are increasing in experimental knowledge of the world, and to our knowledge is added wisdom, and wisdom teaches us that we are not to believe every sparkling stone is a pure diamond, which in our youthful credulity we wild, but, to view all persons and tiling^ as they arc and not as they seem. | It is, very beautiful to create an Eden for one’s self, and pc,ole it with those who have - ” *l u ,- .■ ” , - s. - £ • Rates of Advertising. Advertisements will lie charged $1 per square of 10 line?,'one or three-insertions, and 25«cn*g fof every subsequent insertion. .Advertiseibeata of less than 10 Jl&ef considered as a square. The subjoined tafesiriU do charged for Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly ad* vertieements; - %- $ MOSTUS. 6 HOXTH3. 13 XOXTIIB Square, $3,00 $4,50 $6,00 % d<w - k 5,00 6,50 8,00 s . - ■ 8,50 10,00 ri column, - -'f 8,00 9,50 12.50 i. do. - a 15,00 .20,00 30.00 ' Column, - - 1 25.00 25,08 40,00 Advertisements adz baring thenumberof insertion, desired marked npotrthem, will be published until or dered out and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbills, Bill-Heads, totter-Bcads and all kinds of Jobbing done in cnuntrV establishments, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices’, Constables’, / NO. 7i ■gone before —to encircle their brows with a ba!o.of purity, scarcely Vllainabljtby angelio spirits, and fancy ourselves the happy recipients of the friendshipof such a company—yet surely the sensation of melancholy—the sinking into a semi-stoical state of appreciation of the ness of our every daj companions which fol lows invariably, does not speak of such an indulgence. Let old memories come. Let them whisper of sweet by gones, but do not let thpm prove other than a blessing by stirring up a greater spirit of unrest. Let every act of kindness, every smile, every gentle word be remembered and" appreciated ; but not to the discredit of our companions who are daily striv ing to add to our happiness, We complain of insincerity—perhaps Wffly, and pever inquire if a like charge might not -be urged with equal truth agoyst ourselves. We forget that we are erring ourselves and live by far too much in the past, or dream of the future, while if we would enjoy to-day, and ex pect to enjoy every passing blessing, and to be happy anyhow, our very nature would seem to have undergone a transfiguration, and then those dear old memories would come bearing sweet incense until they prove by their refreshing and beautifying effects to be as “apples of gold in pictures <A' silver.” Grace Mortq.v. Hew to Train a Prize Fighter. Australian Kelly, is in training for a prize figlit, at Coney Island. A sporting paper shows how the man is physically trained to make a brute of himself. It is interesting as a sketch of the method of physical development;— In the morning Kelly rises exactly at four o’clock, proceeds to the sea shore, not fifty yards from the house, and takes a hath ; re turns home and goes to bed for three quarters of an hour. Up again at five o’clock and washes out the mouth with a little cold water, partakes of a little water with peppermint in stead of the usual sherry and egg, walks three miles, rolls a metal ball three miles, and runs three-quarters of a mile—returns home at eight o’clock, gets rubbed dry, and is sponged from head to foot with spring water—an entire change of clothes is put on and he descends to breakfast at half past eight, which is composed of either calves foot jelly, beefsteaks or mutton chops; with water biscuit, instead of toast, as the latter dries op the blood. Water gruel is substituted for tea on account of its nervous tendency, and sugar as promoting bile; tea and sugar also create thirst, while gruel does not. An hour’s rest is then enjoyed, after which he starts on a fourteen mile walk, seven out and seven in. 1 In walking, he carriys the newly introduced lead plugs, two pounds weight, grasping them firmly and keeping the arms well up. The ob ject is to strengthen the muscles of the arm, and to enable him to keep his arms in position without fatigue. In a protracted fight it is generally from weakness, or inability to use the arms with any force, that the battle is lost. To avoid these things, it is necessary to attend to the most minute points as it is to the more important ones. At 121 o’clock, after being rubbed, sponged and re-dressed, dinner is ready; it consists of beef or mutton with water bis cuit. In place of the water-gruel, beef-tea, (made from a shin of beef without any mixture) is taken with the dinner. It serves either for food or drink, some never take anything at all with it. Another hours rest and the afternoon is employed with the dumb bell, (which weighs from 6 to 14 lbs.) fighting the bag (this, together with the bells, consumes three hours every day), and gymnastic exercises. Changed, rubbed, and sponged again, when the supper is ready. For this two eggs are allowed, with water biscuit and gruel. An other resting spell, and an hour or two's rowing or four milo walk, and jumping the skipping rope generally ends the days work. In some days more work is performed than others, ac cording as the gentleman feels inclined; but the average walking is from 21 to 24 miles a day. The meals are served to a minute, and a certain quantity only allowed at each. At pre cisely 8 o’clock ha retires for the night, to rise at 4. His sleeping apartments are kept pure and healthy by the sea-breeze continually pass ing through, and the house itself, and surround ing country for twenty miles, seem adapted by nature for training purposes. When Mr, Kelly went into training hi» weight was about 108 lbs. It is now reduced to 146. His fighting weight will be about 148. Who Sent Them?— Old mother Bender wa» pious but poor. In the midst of her extrema want her trust and confidence was in God. It was late one chilly night in the autumn of the year, when two rather wild young men were passing her cottage on their way home. One of them had under his arm some loves of bread which he had procured at the village store. A faint light glimmered from mother Bender’s casement. Said the one who had the loaves, to his companion, ‘ - Let us have some fun with the old woman.” “Agreed,” said the other. They approached the house and peeped into the window, saw the old woman upon her knees hy the hearth, where a few embers were mouldering in the ashes. She was engaged in prayer. They listened and heard her offering an honest petition for bread. She was utterly destitute of food. In furtherance of their fun, one of them with the loaves climbed softly up the roof of the cottage and dropped one loaf aflei the other down the ehimney. As the bread rolled out on the hearth, they caught the old lady’s eye, and in the fulness of her heart sho ex claimed— “Thank, the Lord, bless the Lord for his bounty.” “But tlio Lord didn’t send them,” shouted a voice from the chironev'. “Yes he did,” cried sho undauntedly ; “tha Lord sent them, and the devil brought them.” Joe and Bill Benton want to Xevr Orleans with a flat , boat of corn. Jo wrote to his fath er thus: “An Orleans, June 5 —Deer Bad, market is dul korn is jni tey hi nml Bills d«d. • Y'urc sun. J.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers