gaming fltek
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.
BY H. W. LONGFELLOW.
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day’s occupations,
That is known as the children’s hour.
I hear in the chamber above me,
The patter of little feet.
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
Prom my study I see in the lamp light,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Aiice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with gold en hair.
A whisper, and then a silence;
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall,
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall.
They climb up into my turret
0 er the arms and hack of my chair;
If I try to escape they surround me:
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, 0 blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old moustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon,
In the round tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin
And moulder in dust away.
JENNIE’S DISAPPOINTMENT.
BY M. E. M.
(CONTINUED.)
“Thiß picture,” said Mrs. Haynes, “rep
resents the beginning of the Revolutiona
ry war. On the 19th of April, 1115, the
people of New England were roused by
the report of fighting at Lexington. For
a long time before, the Americans had
been greatly excited by the attempts of
the English Government td*oppress them,
principally by taxing them unjustly, and
allowing them to have no representatives
in the Parliament at home. The people in
the colonies sent over petition after peti
tion for redress, but the rulers would give
them no attention. At last they began to
make ready for armed resistance ; and on
this bright Spring morning, a number of
the sturdy farmers of Lexington had ga
thered around their church, with arms in
their hands, ready to protect some milita
ry stores that had been collected at Con
cord, a neighboring village. Major Pit
cairn came up in charge of some of the
king’s troops, and ordered them to dis
perse. They did not obey, and he fired
upon them. Eight men fell dead at the
first discharge of the muskets, and these
eight were the first sacrifice, in this land,
on the altar of freedom.”
“ How did it end ?” asked Jennie.
“Well,” said Mrs. Haynes, “the news
flew like wild-fire over the country. There
were no telegraphs in those days, but it
seemed as if every man had become an
express. Prom behind hedges and win
dows, and from the shelter of trees and
stone walk, the people fired on the Bri
tish forces, who were compelled to retreat.
Men left their ploughs in the field, and
their oxen in the farrow, to go to the war.
They hardly stopped to say ‘good-bye’
to their wives and children, but shoulder
ed their old guns, and marched away.
The war lasted very nearly eight years,—
eight long years of blood, and suffering,
and wonderful endurance, from Lexington
to Yorktown, before the British finally re
signed their claims on the colonists, and
the country became independent.”
“Now, for the next picture 1” said Mat
tie.
Mrs. Haynes selected an engraving rep
eenting the signing of the Declaration of
Independence. It showed the grave faceß
of the men, who so nobly took their lives
in their hands, and affixed their signatures
to our Magna Charts.
"Children,” said Mrs. Haynes, “you
both love your birth-days as pleasant an
niversaries of your progress through this
beautiful world. The Fourth of July,
1776, was onr nation’s birth-day, and so
We keep it yearly with great pomp and
rejoicing. Until the present wicked rebel
lion began, it was kept over all the coun
try, from the pine forests of Maine, to the
flowery glades of Florida; but I believe
.the rebels have not observed it since the
war. Indeed, I don’t see how they could
consistently keep it, when they are trying
to overturn the very foundations of li
berty.
“ The declaration of Independence was
signed by men who felt as they said, that
‘they were putting a rope around their
necks 1 in the very act. They knew that
if they failed in their attempt to be inde
pendent, the British Government would
try them for treason, and give them the
traitor’s death. Look how boldly John
Hancock wrote his name at the head of
the list. No Bign of fear in those strong
up and down strokes. The man was rea
dy to die, if need be, for the cause he had
espoused.
jg|“ Heredia a'name that looks as ifithad
been written by a trembling hand,” said
Jennie. “Look bow the letters shake on
the page.”
“ It was written by a shaking hand,” said
Mrs. Haynes, “ for poor Stephen Hopkins
had the palsy, but at heart he was as
brave as any of the others. See how
Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, wrote his
name. Somebody suggested to him that
he would have a better chance of escaping
in the event of their being hung than the
rest, as there were several persons bear
ing the same name. He at once wrote his
residence down, that no mistake might be
made. I have seen the little frame dwell
ing of Charles Carroll, on the shores of
the Chesapeake Bay, near Annapolis,
Maryland, and as I looked at it—old, un
painted, and falling to decay—l have
thought the dwellings of onr brave heroes
of the past should be holy ground to us. ”
‘ ‘ How came the present rebellion about ?”
said Mattie. “ I never really understood
the cause of it, mother.”
“ One little word comprehends the
whole cause, Mattie,” said Mrs. Haynes,
“ Slavery. In the beginning, the states
men of the country regarded it as a very
great evil, and the slave-holders themselves
considered it a wrong, and never attempt
ed to defend it., In the Constitution of
our country, the word ‘slave’ does not
once occur, but the slaves are called 'per
sons held to service.’
“ From time to time, as people found that
they could make fortunes from the unpaid,
labor of these unfortunates, they began to
find excuses for their sin, even going to
God’s holy word for proofs that the mon
strous evil was a right and good thing.
Slaves were brought here from Africa;
stolen from their native land, brought to
our shores, and sold; and if a free man or
woman of the Northern States dared to
say a word against the system of the
South in a Slave State, his life and liberty
was in danger. The slave system did pre
vail for a while in the North, but it was
speedily done away with, continuing only
in the tobacco, cotton, and rice-growing
States. The final cause of the trouble was
the refusal of the people of the States, by
the vote of the majority, to allow a policy
to prevail which should extend slavery
over the free territories of the United
States. When the Slave States found
that they were to be the least and not the
most important portion of the Republic,
they seceded and began the war.”
“I am very glad,” said Mattie, “that
the people would not submit to the slave
holders, even if it did bring on all this trou
ble. But it’s too bad to think of the sol
diers and their great sufferings. I wish I
could do something for them.”
“Do you wish it very much?” inquired
her mother.
“Yes, said Mattie; “I really do.”
“And so do I,” said Jennie.
“ When people are really and truly in
earnest,” replied Mrs. Haynes, “they are
usually willing to make sacrifices in order
to carry out their plans. They do not he
sitate to deny themselves some gratifica
tion or give up some cherished purpose
that they may have the means, to do the
good they wish.”
“But mother,” said Mattie, “there is no
need for me to deny myself any thing in
order to do good for the soldiers, for you
love them as much as I, and you have the
money to give me to buy things with.”
“If I give the money, the gift is mine,
not yours, Mattie.”
“How can I get money then to do any
thing with 7” said Mattie despondingly.
% “ I think you have money enough now
in your possession, and entirely at your
own disposal, to enable you to make up
quite a little package for the army. There’s
Uncle Marvin’s Christmas gift and Aunt
Lucia’s New Year’s present—all nicely
locked away in your bureau drawers.”
Mattie’s countenance fell. Tucked away
in a corner of the tiny pearl portemonnaie,
which lay in her little work-box, she had
ten dollars, the gifts of- her uncle and
aunt. Now Mattie had set her heart upon
a certain silk dress, a grey ground with
blue flounces, and she had intended to buy
one just like it as soon as she was out of
black. For this purpose she had laid by
thqiften dollars, and -she fully intended to
add every cent that was given her to this
nucleus, until she had obtained a sufficient
sum for the purchase of the coveted trea
sure. Indeed, she never saw the owner
of the beautiful silk, walking down the
village street, with its soft folds clinging
about her, without picturing herself in just
such an attire.
“Oh! mother,” she said, “if I give that
I’ll be as far off as ever from that elegant
silk dress.”
“Certainly,” said Mrs. Haynes. “I
did not suppose you would be willing to
give it up after having thought of it so
long. The money is your own, my dear,
to use precisely as you like; and, as you
professed so much love for the soldiers, I
thought I would make a suggestion. But
I did not expect you to act upon it.”
Mrs. Haynes left the room, and the little
girls sat sometime in silence. Mattie was
on a footstool, her arm resting on the
cushioned seat of the great easy chair, and
PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18 , 1 8 64.
her curly head pillowed on her arm. Her
mother’s words had opened a new train of
thought, and she was wondering whether
she really did love best the army or her
self. Young as she was, she had learned
to look within, and Mattie’s face grew
clouded, and her lips firmly set, as she ap
proached the conclusion that comes, alas!
so often to older pilgrims on the journey of
life, that “ the heart is deceitful above all
things.” Little Mattie owned to herself,
in these quiet moments, that she was vain.—
that it was the thought of how becoming
it would be that had induced her to wisfc
so much for the silk, and that her love for
brave and suffering men, who were doing
battle to the death for their country, was,
after all. only an excitement, a flitting pas
sion of the hour.
So pondered Mattie, while Jennie sat by
the table looking over the portfolio of en
gravings. She; too, was thinking in what,
way she could deny herself. All the money
in her saving’s bank and brother Horace’s
combined, would not amount to more than;
half of Mattie’s money, and two-thirds of,
that belonged to Horace. She could not con- j
trol his part, and he was apt to resent any !
attempt of hers to influence him as'detract-i
ing from his dignity. “What do girls;
know about such things?” was his un-;
failing argument when Jennie made any
proposition that did not please him.
" After a while she remembered that her;
mother had promised to pay her a certain!
little sum weekly if she began to repair,
her clothes as they came from the wasW
keep her stockings in order, and see thal
every Saturday night there was not at
button or a string out of place in hex
wardrobe. She had declined undertaking-,
this at the time, for Jennie was not very !
fond of such quiet occupations, and darn
ing was her greatest aversion. !
Now she made up her mind to begin at
once and relieve her mother of the charge.
Every penny thus earned she resolved
should go into the fund of the Ladies’ So
ciety.
“Mattie, I have made up my mind,”she
said.
“ So have I,” said Mattie, springing up
and shaking back her curls with an air of
decision.
“Young ladies, tea is ready,” said the
servant, putting her head in at the door.
MAEY ALLEN AND HER SELP WILL.
One summer afternoon, long ago, there
was a party of little girls going out to
gather blueberries. There were Mast
and Hatty Allen, and Susie Lambert/
and Fanny Brown, and half a dozen
others. It was Saturday afternoon, and
they were frisky and frolicsome as young
colts. V
The blueberry pasture was a mile or
more from the village, and the road was
rough and grass-grown. Only in summer
time did the children go that way.
After a while Mary Allen lingered a
little behind, picking checkerberry leaves.
When she looked up, she saw the little
party had reached a place where two
roads met, and were taking the right-hand
one.
“Why girls!” she cried, “that is n’t the
way. What are you going there for ?”
“Yes, it is the way,” answered Susie
Lambert. “I remember that great pine
tree, and the high rock.”
“So do I,” said Fanny Brown y “ And
there’s the gate that leads to Mr. Hen
shaw’s woods,” cried another. I remem
ber it just as well! Why Mary Allen, we
all of us know the way.”
Now Mary had not lived in the village
long. Her father moved there only uie
year before, and she knew little of tf»e
country round, and had been this way
only once. But she was always vejry
self-confident and positive, and was-'sure
now that she remembered taking the left
hand path. She was a head-strong child,
who was never willing to confess herself
mistaken; so, with a willful toss of the
head, she cried out: “•! know better, and
I shall go just where I please. ’ Hatty
Allen, come back, and we will take the
right road. See how pleasant it looks,
and all down hill.”
She ran forward, and, catching her
gentle little sister’s hand, trotted her back,
by main force, to the other road.
The girls called after her: “ Mary,
you’re too bad!” “Let Hatty alone!”
“You’ll get loßtsome one thing, some
another. But that same old Giant Self-
Will had got hold of Mary, and she would
have her own way. She hurried little
Hatty, almost crying, along the down-hill
path, and soon they were out of sight.
The girls were quite vexed by this
sudden and foolish outburst, and very
sorry for poor Hatty. But they said
among themselves: “ We can’t wait here,
and we can’t follow her. It would’nt do
any good. She’s so set.” So they went
on, and, by-and-by forgot their trouble in
the hurry and delight of picking the milt.
“ It was thick as spatter,” they said.
When the happy little company had
filled their pails, and set out for home, it
was nearly sunset. “Won’t mother be
glad when she sees what a great lot I’ve
picked 7” “Won’t I have blueberries and
milk for supper 7” “ And won’t Mary
Allen be sorry she did’nt come with us 7”
So said the girls as they walked along,
and one added—“l suppose Mary got
home hours ago. She found out the blue
berries did’nt grow on that road pretty
soon, I guess.”
But when they passed Mr. Allen’s
house, Mary’s mother was looking out of
the window. ' With a frightened look she
called to them: “ Where are Mary and
Hatty?”
“ Have’nt they come home, ma’am 7”
and they told her all they knew. But she
hardly waited to hear them through—she
ran for her husband, and, as soon.as the
horse could be harnessed, he set out with
a neighbor’s son, who knew the roads, to
hunt for the stray children.
And where were they all this time ?
After they parted from the rest, you can
fancy that Mary felt very cross. She
made Hatty walk faster than she was
able, and when the poor child whimpered,
she grew crasser still, and drew her along
faster than ever. But they came to no
blueberries. After a time, too, the road
entered a swamp, and seemed to lose itself
in the spongy soil. Before they knew it,
their feet were wet and muddy, and at last
even wilful Mary could no longer blind
herself. She had made a mistake indeed.
It seemed dark too, in the shadow of the
thick trees, which was made deeper by the
long, gray moss that hung heavily down
from them. Now that they stood still, all
was so hushed and solemn that Mary’s
heart smote her with fear.
“Let us go right home, Hatty,” she
said, whirling her round with such a
sudden jerk as to throw her down into a
a pool of muddy water close by. Her
head struck a sharp stick, and, when Mary
drew her dripping out of the water, and
laid her on a mossy hillock, the blood
began to trickle down her pale little face.
Her cries of pain and fright echoed through
the silent forest, and sounded quite awful
to Mary, alone there with her in the
gloom.
“ Mamma 1 Mamma 1” cried Hatty, and
an echo answered—“ mamma !” till the
child fell into a perfect spasm of sobbing.
■ What could Mary do ? Self-Will, now
that he had brought her into such trouble,
left her to herself. “ Oh, Hatty, do stop,
do try to get up,” she said. “Let’s go
home to mother, and she’ll make you all
clean and well. Hatty tided to quiet
herself, and to get up, but fell back crying:
“Oh I can’t! I’m so tired, and my clothes
are all wet. I’m cold, and my head’s
bursting, I’m afraid.”
' Tears of remorse and pity came into
Maiy’s own eyes, as she saw that little
head, all soiled and blood-stained, fall
helplessly upon the sod.
She sat down beside her sister and tried
to wipe away the flowing blood. Then,
getting up, she lifted her in her arms, and
began to carry her homeward. Hatty,
chilled and stunned, shut her eyes, and
soon seemed quite unconscious. But
Mary’s strength gaye out, and she was
obliged to sit down to rest. I cannot
describe the alarm when, on trying to
rouse Hatty to walk, she found she could
not even wake her fully. A few more
attempts at carrying her, and she sank
down in despair. The streaks of sunshine
that had glimmered through the wood
faded quite away, and still she sat beside
tliat form—herself almost rigid with
fear. She could-not leave it, she must
wait, for help to come. The darkness
grew deeper and the silence more pro
found. Mary thought of the cheerful
home, where their kind mother was ex
pecting them, and how distressed she
would be if she could see them now. Then
43he remembered, how disobedient and
ungrateful she had been, and how the
wilfulness and self-confidence that had
brought her into this trouble was always
grieving that good mother. And oh, now
came thoughts of God, her heavenly
Father. She seemed alone with Him,
and she must answer to Him for this sin.
There, in the darkness she saw herself
and her sins as she never did before.
Would God listen to such a wicked girl,
she thought. She must pray to Him, her
need was so great. And she did truly
pray; kneeling on the ground, with bitter
tears she confessed her fault, and besought
the Lord to save Hatty, and to send them
help. “0 God !” she said, “it is my
wicked, proud, stubborn will that has
brought us into this danger. Oh, do not
punish my poor little sister for my sins,
but save us quickly, and let nothing harm
us. For Jesus’ sake.”
Well, though the minutes seemed hours,
they did pass away, and at last, in the
twilight, Mary heard the sound of wheels.
It was her father as you will guess.
Mary’s heart would have bounded for joy,
as.she called aloud, and his voice answered,
but it was too heavy with fear about
Hatty. What would he say when he saw
how sick and strange she looked ? As
the wagon came near, and he jumped
hastily down, she cried, “Oh 1 papa,
punish me, punish me ! Something’s the
matter with Hatty. She don’t answer
me. She’s been all cold, and now she’s
burning up.”
Mr. Allen lifted his little darling ten
derly, and only said, with chocked voice,
“ Mary, we must hurry home. ”
“He felt, I suppose,” said Mrs. Nelson
to her little auditors, “ that God had taken
Mary’s punishment into his own hands,
For though it had been great already, it
did not end here. Hatty had . a fever—a
terrible brain fever—brought on by the
blow, and the chill and fatigue of that
afternoon. She did get well at last, but
for long, long weeks her life was in great
danger. Sad weeks they were for the
guilty Mary, but they were useful, too.
They wrote deep in her heart the lesson
she learned in the forest; they broke her
stubborn will.. She felt now her ignorance
and folly—how little she could trust her
self, and how much she needed guidance.
“She grew to be an humble child, learning
obedience to her parents and to God, her
best Friend. For, dear children, if you
do not trust and obey your parents, how
can you trust God and obey Him?
While we are children, we must give up
our will to those who are older and wiser,
and all our life through we must give it up
to God. He only asks it, because, like Mary
Allen, we don’t know what is best for us,
and are sure to suffer for it if we are left
to our own way. — Gongregationalist.
PRAYERS POE DOHALD GRANT.
In the highlands of Scotland, punctuality
at public worship is reckoned among the
cardinal virtues. The people for genera
tions have been trained to reverence God’s
day, and his house, so that it is considered
not only wrong, but disreputable, to lounge
at home or to stroll'over heath and burn
while others are honoring God in the sanc
tuary.
. There lived in this region some years
since, an honest yclept Donald
.Grant- He was very wise for this world;
and while professing better things, he gave
all his strength to his six days toil, so that
when the Sabbath came he was unfit for the
duties of the sanctuary. Once, in the sea
son of barley harvest, when farm help was
scarce, Donald so over-wrought on Saturday
that his seat in the “auld kirk” was empty
the next day. He remained at home to re
cruit his powers for a fresh campaign on
Monday. Some wag in the parish, know
ing Donald's besetting sin, and fearing the
effect of his example on others, resolved to
nip the delinquency in the hud, and took
the case into his own hands.
In the afternoon, when the pastor enter
ed the pulpit, he found a note in which was
written: “ The prayers of this Church are
requested for Donald Grant.” The minis
ter was taken by surprise, not having heard
of his illness, but remembered, as also did the
people when the note was read, that his
family pew was tenantless in the morning.
After services, one asked anothet what ailed
Donald Grant, but none could inform his
neighbor; and all decided that some sudden
illness had brought this request direct from
the family.
The Sabbath passed, and Donald,' re
freshed by many hours of sleep, and by the
sweet breeze and the holy calm of his na
tive hills, rose on Monday morning like a
strong man to run a race. But scarcely
had the sun began to gem the dewy heath
er, when above the whetting of the sickle,
he heard the stentorian voice- of Sandy
Graham, the village blicksmith :
“ Hoot, mon, and are early
after the deathly illness of yesterday?”
It was all in vain that Donald protested
he had never been better. Sandy declar
ed that he was out of his head and had
ought to be taken back to bed again—-he
could see by pie. color of his face there was a
high fever on him !
While yet he was speaking, they were
joined by Duncan Mclvor and Malcolm
Sterling, . two larged-hearted neighbors,
coming to sympathize in Donald’s affliction
and to proffer their aid in neaping his bar
ley ; and before any explanation could be
made of the puzzling matter the loving old
minister, staff in hand, had arrived with the
oil of. consolation.
Donald persisted in saying that he was
never more hearty; when the pastor asked,
!t Why, mon, did you forsake your seat in
God’,s house, and implore the prayers of his
people?”
Aweel, aweel,then,” replied Donald, in
amazement, “ I was awa’ fra the kirk wi’
the aching o’ my limbs fro’ the week’s work
but I hav’e asked the prayers o’ no mon
alive.”
The joke was preceived and the pastor
reminded Donald that the man who absen
ted himself from God’s house for no better
reason than his, ought to ask prayers if he
didn’t!
AMERICAN
Life Insurance and Trust Company
S. E. COR. WALNUT AND FOURTH STS
PHILADELPHIA.
Capital and Assets, $1,897,74 .59.
Mutual Rates—Half note to be paid bj
Profits of Company, or Reduced rate
of Premium without Profits.
Total Abstinence rate peculiar to
Company, and lower than any othe
BOARD OF TRUSTEES.
Alexander Whilldin, J, Edgar Thomson,
Hon. Jas. Pollock, Hon. Joseph Allison,
Albert C. Roberts, Jonas Bowman,
Samuel T. Bodine, P. B. Mingle,
m
George Nugent, John Aikman,
William J. Howard, Charles F. Heazlitt,
Samuel Work.
ALEXANDER WHILLDIN, President
.SAMUEL WORK, Vice-President
John S. Wilson, Sec’y and Treas’r. jell Sn.
HENRYHARPER,
520 Arch Street, Philadelphia,
DEALER IN, AND MANUFACTURER OF
WATCHES, FINE JEWELRY,
SILVERWARE,
AND
SUPERIOR PLATED GOODS.
THOMAS CARRICK & CO.,
CRACKER AND BISCUIT BAKERS,
1905 Market Street, Phila.
Superior Crackers, Pilot and Ship Bread,
Soda, Sugar and Wine Biscuits, Pic-Eics,
Jwnbles , and Ginger .Nuts,
A.Pee’s, Scotch and Other Oakes.
Ground Cracker in any Quantity.
Orders promptly filled. declB ly
BANKING HOUSE.
GEORGE J. BOYD,
No. 18 South Third St., Philadelphia,
(Two doors above Mechames’ Bank.)
DEALER in Bills of Exchange, Bank Notes
and Specie. Drafts on New York, Bos
ton, Baltimore, etc., for sale. Stocks and
Bonds bought and sold on commission, at th
Board of Brokers. Business Paper, Loans o
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and interest allowed. j a 9.
THOMPSON BLACK & SON’S
lea Warehouse and Family Grocery Store,
NORTH-WEST CORNER OF
BROAD AND CHESTNUT STS., PHILA.
(Established 1836.)
An extensive assortment of Choice Black and
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YOUNG LADIES’ INSTITUTE,
WILMINGTON, DELAWARE.
NUMBER LIMITED TO THIRTY.
Building New and Conveniently Arranged.
Spacious Grounds for Exercise. Charges
moderate.
Next Session commences the First Monday
in September.
For information, address
Ret. THOMAS M. CANN, A. M.,
Principal and Proprietor.
Catalogues can be had at the Music stores of
J. E. Gould, and Lee * Walker, Chestnut st.:
or at the office of the “American Presbyterian.
jan I—ly1—ly
Family Boarding School,
FOR YOUNG MEN AND BOYS,
At Pottstown, Montgomery County, Pennou
THIS School was established Eleven years 1
since, by the Rev. M. Meigs, formerly
President of Delaware College.
The comae of study is extensive, thorough
and practical; including the usual preparation
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substantial English Business education. The
studies of pupils will be conformed to their
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The Principal gives his undivided personal
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The ensuing Summer Session will commence
on Wednesday, May 6th, and continue Twenty
one weeks. Circulars, containing references,
names of patrons, and hill particulars, will be
sent by mail, on application to the Principal,
REV. M. MEIGS, A.M.
Pottstown, April 2d, 1862. ap3 ly
Extensive Clothing House, Nos. 303 and
306 Chestnut Street.
Extensive Clothing House, Nos. 303 & 305
Chestnut Street.
Extensive Clothing House, Nos. 303 & 305
Chestnut Street.
Bargains in Clothing.
Bargains in Clothing.
Bargains in Clothing. _ '
Fine Black Snits. Fine Business Suits.
Fine Black Suits. Fine Business Suits.
Fine Black Snits. Fine Business Suits.
Fall and Winter Overcoats.
Fall and Winter Overcoats.
Fall and Winter Overcoats.
A t the Lowest Prices. At the Lowest Prices.
At the Lowest Prices. At the Lowest Prices.
At the Lowest Prices. At the Lowest Prices.
Nos. 303 and 305 Chestnut Street.
Nos. 303 and 305 Chestnut Street.
Nos. 303 and 305 Chestnut Street, ly
ONE PRICE CLOTHING,
No. 604 Market St., Philada.
Made in the latest styles and best manner, ex
pressly for retail sales. The lowest selling price
is marked in plain figures on each articles, and
never varied from. All goods made to order,
warranted satisfactory, and at the same rate as
ready-made. Our one price system is strictly
adhered to, as we believe this to be the only fair
way of dealing, as all are thereby treated alike.
JONES* CO., .
604 Market St., Philadelphia.
EMANCIPATED ’ SLAVES.
Card Photographs of Emancipated Slaves
from Louisiana.
McAllister & brother,
728 Chestnut street.
The nett proceeds from -the sale of these
photographsyriU.be devoted to the education of
colored people in the Department of the Gulf
now under the command of Maj.-Gen.Banks.
jan 28—4 t
GOLD PENS.
Manufactured by the
American Gold Pen Company;
These Pens have gained great popularity in a
short space ot time, and are acknowledged, by
jhe best writers, to be superior to all others now
n use. Also the
ARMY PEN,
Made expressly for the Soldiers, are the best
and cheapest manufactured, and are for sale by
most of the Jewelers thronghont the country.
COMPANY’S SALESROOM,
S. E- comer Eighth and Ghesnut Sts.
MASTER & FASER,
6m. Agents.
fr 0 - _ e
N. E. Corner of Tenth and Chestnut Streets,
Philadelphia, under the management of
L. FAIRBANKS, A. M.,
for the last fonr years Principal and chief bu
siness manager of Bryant ft Strfftton’s Commer
cial College.
A MODEL BUSINESS COLLEGE,
conducted on a new system of actual Business
Training, through the establishment of legiti
mate offices and counting-houses, representing
different departments: of :Trade and Commerce,
and a regular. Bank of Deposit and Issne, giving
-the Student all .the advantages of actual prac
tice, _ and qualifying him in the shortest possi
ble time and most effective manner for the va
nous duties and employments of business life.
The success of this Institution is unprece
dented in the history of Commercial Schools.
Its patronage already equals that of the oldest
Institutions in the city, and is rapidly increasing.
Course of Instruction unsurpassed, and may he
accomplished in one-half the time usually spent
in other Institutions, in consequence of an en
tirely new management, and the adoption of the
new practical system. Send for a Circular.
Business men invited to call.
An Elegant Stock of
ESTY & GREEN’S
MELODEONS AND HARMONIUMS.
Upwards of twenty different kinds, some of
which are entirely different from any other in
the market. Also, Cottage Organs—a splendid
instrument for Churches. Every instrument
warranted. BRUCE ft BISBEE,
Oct. ly. No. 18 N Seventh St., Phiiada.
SAPONIFIED,
OR CONCENTRATED LYE,
family soap MAE^pR.
fered also, teSSeM
article put np In Iron, cans, all others belM
Counterfeits.
mrasravANu o MMMuniFAcmDio
Philadelphia—No. 127 Walnut Street.
Pittsburgh, Pitt Street and Duquesne Way* J