VOLUME 56. NEW SERIES. rpHS BEDFORD GAZETTE, I IS PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BV 25. F- MLVEiIS, At the following terms, to wits $1.50 per annum, CASH, in advance. $2.00 " " if paid within the year. $-2.50 " " it not paid within the year. [£7"Xo subscription taken for less than six months. paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid,unless at the option of the puhlisber. jt has Seen decided by the United States Courts that the stoppage of a newspaper without tne payment of ar rearages, is prima facie evidence ol fraud and is a criminal offence. tJsr"The courts have decided that persons are ac countable for the subscription price of newspapers, it the) take them from the post office,whether they subscribe for them, or not. 1 WUD NOT DIE IN VVINTUiR, Sic. ST THE ORTHUR OV "THORTS ON A FADEIi BOKA." 1 wud knott dye in VVint ur, When whiskie punchiz fio— When pooty gals are skatin O'er fields ov Ice and sno— W hen sassidge meets is phrying And hickeri knutts is thick ; Owe who kud think ov dighing, Or even gitting sick ? I wud knott dye in Spring-time, And miss the turn-up greans, And the pooty song of the lea tie frawgs, And the skigh-lark's arly skreems, When burcs begin their wobbling, And taters 'gin to sprout, When turkies go a goblering, 1 wud knott then peg out. 1 wud knott dye in summer. And leve the garding sars— The rosied lam an butter-milk— The kool place in the grars ; I wud knott dye in summer, When everything's so hott, And leve the whiskie jew-lips— Owe kno ! I'd rather knott. I wud/nott dye in Ortum, With peecbes fitt for eeting ; When the wavy lorn is gitting wripe, And Candidates are treating. . Phor these and other reasons, Ide Cnott dye in the phall ; And sense I've thortit over, I wud Cnott dye at all. BREACHING 1Y THE FAR WEST- The same contrariety that leads cripples to become porters and; walking postmen, and deal men to fiil the situation ol 8.,0ts at our inns, has not seldom imbued blind persons with a passion lor travel. Over the iast ciass, the Rev. Wil liam Henry Miiburn, of the United States, may certainly claim present pre-eminence. He is not, indeed, altogether sightless; the light eye retains the smallest possible transparent spot, not much larger than a p .Ts point, in the cor ner of the pupil, through which the light may make its way : "though, to make this fraction ot an eye available, it is necessary to use 3 shade above the eye, and to place the middle linger ol the right hand beneath it, thus tormmg a sort ol ariiticia! pupil, allowing only the due quan tity ot light to enter." .Nevertheless, since, before this accident (which was occasioned by an oyster shell thrown by a school compan ion,) he had fortunately learned to read, he be came, under these disadvantageous circuinstau < es, a greedy devourer ut books, and accom plished student of the university of Illinois : an nima mater which may boast, with truth, of the rare virtue of never having conferred the title of D. D. on any unworthy ofcjeci, inasmuch a> throughout rts five-anti-twenty years'existence, it has never had occasion to confer it at all. The Milburns were driven from Philadelphia bv commercial shipwreck, in 1837, and cl course found the capital ot the far West to a great deal cheaper place to live in. Some of the aborigines, however, complained, it seems, of its prices, low as they were, and were thus, to Mr. Miiburn's hearing, reproved by a female eggseller: "What! do ye s'pose our hens are gwine to strain theirselves a-laymg eggs at three cents a dozen ? Lay 'em yoursell, and see how you'd like the price." Although, indeed, he could not see very well, the author of 7'en Years of Preachers-life had powers of observation greater than those of most men with perfect eye, and suffered absolutely nothing to escape his ears. Having embraced the profession ol • preacher in the Wesleyan Methodist connection, he was appointed to the Winchester circuit, consisting of some thirty preaching-places— some of them chapels, more ol them log-school houses, most of thein private dwellings—at an average of some ten miles apart. He had to preach a sermon a day, and make his three-hun dred -mile round thirteen times a year. Thus he g,,t acquainted with almost every man, wo man and child within his beat, and a school o puned to him for studying human nature which he would scarcely have found elsewhere. The privilege, however, seems to have lormed his principal reward, since of pecuniary recompense he had only four hundred dollars per annum. We do not wonder that, with such a miserable slipmd, a young man in the same position as himself—a "helper in the ministry"—was once convicted at the quarterly Conference, of the practice ol "swopping-horses," in order to make both ends meet. All the charges against this juvenile preacher were characteristically rebuff ed. First, that he could not preach ; second, that he was attentive to all the girls around the circuit, and tnird that he was constantly enga ged in swopping horses. In defending him self, he 6tated, first, that he knew, as well as any of them, that he could not preach, and he was sure it did not trouble them as it did him ; second, that they need not be alarmed about his attention to the girls, for he would not think ol marrying the daughter of any man present ; and third, as to trading horses, what else was to be done T they paid him nothing and he had no other way ol making money enough to buy his clothes." The discipline of this Western Church i-, ra ther rough when compared with that of Oxford and Cambridge, and the method of imparling the art of extempore preaching seems somewhal analogous to that ol teaching our dogs to swim. The neophyte was "chucked in," and had to land himself how he could in this fashion. "William, exhort !" cried the presiding elder quite unexpectedly,! one meeting night, to our young author, who had never betoie opened his mouth in public. "I had no resource but to stand up, frightened as 1 was almost to death, behind my split-bottom chair, in lieu of a pul pit, in front of the huge fireplace, and attempt to speak by the light of the smouldering embers, and one or two candles fast sinking to their sockets, to the crowd of hunters and farmers filling the cabin, who gaped and stared at a pallid, beardless hoy. Of course, words were ! few, and ideas fewer, and on resuming my seat, 1 had the uncomfortable impression that tha' congregation had listened to about as poor a discourse as ever was delivered. Such was my first attempt at preaching." The bishops of this community, although much respected, seem to obtain by no means an unanswering ob"dience from their subordinates. One of these was explaining to his diocesan j that he practiced medicine (which had b-en j made a ground of complaint against him) only | for the good of his flock. "Now, Mr. Bishop, i you know that we are commanded to do good to .the bodies as well as the souls of men. if I I were traveling in a region where the doctors j were scarce, and were to find a man in a bad j spell ol bilious fever, ye know I would throw him into a sweat, then give him a dose of lobelia or thorough wort"— "No. sir,' interrupted the bishop rather haugh tily • 'no, brother, 1 do not know, and, what is more, I do not care, what you would do." "Very well sir, very well," retorted the o fher : "you have as good a right to live and die a fool as any other man." Another preacher, remarkable for his humor as well as his godliness, was reproved by his superior for indulging in such drollery as set the sober Methodist Conference in a roar. "Brother," inquired he in a monitory tone, "do you think you are growing in grace?" "Yes, Bishop," was the reply : I think I am in spots ?" This man was no less than the celebrated Peter Cartwright, an apostle exactly fitted for those scenes wherein he wrought his mission out so well. He had then been a backwoods preacher for nearly forty years, ranging the country from the. Lakes to the Cult, and from the Alleaha nies to the Mississippi. He was inured to every form of hardship and had looked calmly at per'- il of every kind—the tomahawk of the Indian, the spring of the panther, the hug of the bear, the sweep of the tornado, the rush of swollen torrents, and the fearful chasm of the earth quake. He had lain in the canebrake, and made his bed upon the snow of the prairie, and on the oozy soil of the swamp, and had wander ed hunger-bitten amid the solitude of moun tains. He had been in jeopardy among robbers, and in danger from desperadoes who had sworn to take his life. He had preached in the cabin of the slave, and in the cabin of the master : to the Indians, and to the men of the border. He had taken his life in his hand, and ridden in the path of whizzing bullets, that tie might pro claim peace. He had stood on the outskirts of civilization, and welcomed the first comers to the woods and prairies. At the command of Him who said, -—"Go into all the world." lie had roamed through the wilderness; as a disci pline of the man who said ; "The world is my parish." His travels had equalled the limits o; an empire. Ail this he had done without hope of fee or reward ; not to enrich himself or his posterity, but as a preacher of righteousness in the service of God and his feilow r ,ten. Eve rywhere he had confronted wickedness, and rebuked it ; every form of vice had shrunk a bashed from his irresistible sarcasm and ridicule, or quivered beneath the fiery look ot his indig nant invective. This was a hero whom no church—and in deed no man worth his salt—would venture to despise or make light of: and since tt)e t h^ ws of Anak, it would have been a dangerous thin<* to do so. He, on his part, was by no means wanting in the exaction of such respect as was due to him. A room had once been reserved for him at the Irving House, in Yew York : but having arrived there late at night, the sleepy hotel clerk did not recognize his name in the somewhat illegible characters which the back woodsman inscribed in the registers-book, nor Cartwright himself in the farmer-like-looking man before him. The great preacher was there fore lodged very high up, and immediately un der the tile. The patronizing servant explained to the traveller the use of the .various articles in she loom, and said, on leaving, pointing to the [ Jt .|l- ; rope : If you want any thing, you can just pull that, and somebody will come up. The old gentleman waited until the servant had had time to descend, and then gave the rope a furious jerk. Up came the servant, bounding two or three steps at a time, and was amazed at the reply in answer to bis "What will } ou have sir V' "How are you all coming on down below ? It is such away from here to there, that a body can have no notion even ol the weather where you are." The servant assured him that all was going on well, and was dismissed ; but had scarcely reached the office before another strenuous pull at the bell was given. The bell in the City Hall had struck a fire-alarm, and the firemen, with their apparatus, were hurrying with con fused noises, along the street. "What's wanting, sir ?" the irritated, servant. "What's all this hulla-balloo ? said the stran-j ger. BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY SWING, APRIL 20,1860. j "Only a fire, sir." "A fire, sir!" shouted the other. "Do yon ( want us all to be burned up?" knowing well i enough the fire was not on tne premises. "The servant assured him of the distance of the conflagration, and that all was sat., and a j gain descended. A third furious pull at the bell, and the almost breathless servant again made his appearance at the door. "Bring men hatchet," said the traveller, in a peremptory tone. . "A hatchet, sir !" said the astonished waiter. "Yes, a hatchet." "What for sir ?" "That's none of your business: go and fetch me a hatchet." The servant descended, and informed the clerk that, in his private opinion, that old chap was crazy, and tiiat he intended to commit suicide, or to kill some one in the house, for he wanted a hatchef. ihe clerk, with some trepidation, ventured to the room beneath the leads and having pre sented himself, said, in his blandest lone, "I beg your pardon, sir, but what was it you wanted ?" "A hatchet,' - said the imperious stranger. "A hatchet." sir, really; but what for 7 said the other. "What fr ! Why, look here, stranger.— You see 1 m not accustomed to these big houses, and it's such a journey from this to where you are, that I might get lost. Now, its my custom when I am in a strange country, to blaz** mv way. We cut notches in the trees, and call that blazing, and we can then always find our way back ags.in. So I thought if I had a hatch et, I'd just go out and blaze the corners from this to your place, and then I would be able to find my way back." "[ beg your paidon sir," said the mystified clerk ; "but what's your name sir ? I could not read it very well on Ihe book." "My name," replied the other ; "certainly; my debts are all paid, and my will is made— my name is Peter Cartwright, at your ser vice." "O, . Ir. Cartwright," responded the oUier. "I beg you ten thousand pardons. We have a room fir you, sir, on the second floor—the best room ia the borne. This way, sir, if you pleas"." "All right," said the old gentleman ; that's all I wanted." Mr. Miiburn's modestv causes him to dwell in general upon the doings of others rather than upon Ms own, but one very remarkable and praiseworthy act of his lie is obliged Is tell. It Dappened that our author had been appointed to collect subscriptions for a certain good work, by the Conference, but without any sala ry save ten per cent of what he might get out |of the pickets of the benevolent. As what he ! got, however, was nothing, the ten per cent was I not worth speaking of, and on one occasion he found himself aboard a Cmcinnatti steamboat, absolutely without a s.ngle cent in his pocket. In the same company were several eminent members of Congress, who played cards night and day, drank immoderately, and swore in a manner to rasp Ihe good preacher's ears comid erahly. Accordingly, when a fog came on. which prevented passengers landing to spend the Sabbath, Mr. Miiburn was asked to preach, lie concluded his discourse to a numerous con gregation or a fur higher grade than he had been accustomed to address, with the most ieariul denunciations of this unsenatoria! con duct. "1 must tell you that, as an American citizen I feel disgraced by your behaviour : as a prea- i rlier of th-> goq>el, I am commissioned to tell you j that, unless you renounce your evil courses, re- • pent of your s:ns, and believe upon the Lord i Jesus Christ with hearts unto righteousness, you j will certainly be damned." While cogitating, in |, IS s ; a u. cabin, over j the bomo-be"U he had just been casting, there I was a tap a-' tne door. A gentleman entered I who -aid : "I have heen requested to wait upon ! you by the members of Congress on board, who have had a meeting since the close 'of the re- J ligious exercises. i hey me to present ' you with tins purse ot munev"—"-handing me i between fifty and a hundred dollars—"as a to ken of their appreciation of your sincerity and j fearlessness in reproving tli-iu for their miscon duct ; they have also desired me to ask it you Wlate ... the ecoed when, on being introduced to people who -had bean) of me, they exclaimed, 'Why, 1 thought von could not see very well !' Mere walking was an intellectual exercise, ant) the mind found constant amusement in solving the physical problems which were ever demanding instant settlement ; as, for example, giving the sound of a footfall, to find the nature and distance of the object from which it reverberated ; or the space betwixt yourself and the gutter you are approaching ; or, amid the Babel of crowded thoroughfares, to ascertain by your ear when it will be sate for you to cross, and bow lory a time the rush of harrying vehrc'.s will allow yon." Interesting as all this is, it is pleasant to have to tell, in conclusion, that those estimable blessings, "wife, children and friends," have now rendered the exercise of these singular faculties no longer necessary to our author.— He has exchanged them for the kind offices ol those who love him : and movps about the street of Montgomery—his now settled home— with his hand always clasped in that of one or another of his children, "who are as watchful and tender towards me," he touchingiy writes, "as though they were parent and I the child." —Chambers' Journal. OILY LETTER FROM Til E OILY SPRINGS. As the Oil Springs in Trumbull county, O hio, are exciting a great deal of interest, we pre vailed upon a fat contributor to go down there last week, in order that we may furnish our readers with an authentic account of the local ity. We have received the following unctious letter : MR. EDITOR :—Everything about here is so greasy and oily, it is with extreme difficulty I can write at ail. Mv pen slips out of my fin gers and there is an oily scum on the ink ; the paper is fairly transparent and I slosh around in my chair in a very unpleasant manner. Pa tience and perseverance (sweet oil is unneces sary here,) will however, overcome many ob stacles. An oilu Truck. —l arrived here a! a very late hour last night, on an oil tram, and rhisrht as well have come on tram oil, a we were six teen hours behind time. All trains are behind time here,l learn, owing to the accumulation oil on the track on this end of the road. The oil fries out of the ground and lubricates the rails for a great distance. We shouldn't have arrived here at all if the passengers hadn't got out and sprinkled the track with their cigar ashes. ! slipped out of bed (nobody "arises" here ; we all slip into bed and slip out,) at an early hour this morning, and began investigations. I found a section embracing fourteen thousand acres of land chuck full of oil springs. How ihe Women fry Qoug'inuts. — Drilling is unnecessary here, as the oil boils up in springs, sometimes to the height of twenty-five feet, and is caught in tin nails as it comes down. On a hot day, lam told, it is no unusual thing to see the women frying dough-nuts in these jets of oil. The balls of dough are dropped in to the jets, where they are allowed to toss about like corks in a fountain, until they are iried by the heat of the sun. Slippery FAm. —The only species of tree which abounds here is the slippery elm. These trees are so slippery that a squirrel can't climb • tbernVithout d pain:; his paws m Spaiding'sjPre pared Glue, a small bottle of which he always j carries about his neck. There are a few n.aple trees here, but no sugar is made, as nothing but oil runs out when they are tapped. A River of Oil. —There is one considerable sized creek running in Trumbull county, which is all oil. It was discovered a short time ago in a singular manner. Three boys went in I bathing t.nd when they came out, were'so grea jsy that they couldn't stay in their clothes. As ! fast as thev would slip them on they would slip 1 off again, and one oJ trie lads, in a heedless mo ' ment, narrowly escaped slipping out of his skin. On reaching home, tueir parents being exceed | ingly frugal, wrung them out, and extracted a bout fourteen gallons of pure oil from the three ; boys ! Fact. A company are erecting a large ! candle factory on the banks of the river prepa j ring to dip candles in it. i Amusements. —The principal amusements 1 here are climbing greased poles and catching oiled pigs, the necessary appliances being con stantly on hand. Sliding down hill is popular among all classes duringthe summer time. This j is effected without sleds, on ■ r-iH of s did tallow, just back of the tavern. As Iv. :<\ laughter rich and gushing, is wafted to mv window from a number of the beauties of "Bower's Corners," as they sweetly dissolve down the sides of that melting slope. Orerrseil Lightning. —There was a thondr I storm ths afternoon, and as the electric fioii! no down one of those slippery -Ims I told von 1 of, I was treated to my first view of "greased lightning." It is quite common here, they sav. Thunder is divested ol all its harsh lo'entions by the minute particles of oil which fill the air auri grease the whole of Jove's noisy chariot. If any of your readers think I have "cut it fat," in this letter, let them visit the Oil Springs and see for themselves. Yours, truly. FAT CONTKHUTOR. Sandusky (Ohio) Register, [£7°""Say, Csesar Augustus, whv are your legs like an organ-grinder's V "Don't know, Air. Sugarloat; why is they V '-'Cause thev carrv a monkey about the streets." A brick grazed the head of Air. Sugarloaf just as hi 3 ears disappeared round the corner. WHOLE I%'OIRER, 2S9S. VOL. 3. NO. 38. CAUGHT IN HIS OWN TRAP. i 1 girl, young and pretty, but above all gif ted with an air of adorable candor, lately pre sented herself before a certain Parisian law ver. "Monsieur, I came to consult you on a grave a.Fair, i want to oblige a man I love, to mar ry me in spite ol himself. How shall I pro < ceed ?" The gentleman of the bar had, cf course, a sufficiently elastic conscience. He reflected a mom rot, 'j'.-B bung sure that no third person overhearu him, replied unhesitatingly : "Mademoiselle, according to our law, you , always posses the means of forcing a man to , marry you. You must remain on three occa • uons alone with him, so that you can go belore : a judge and swear that he is your lover." And that will sutlice, Monsieur ?" ; "t pi Mademoiselle, with one further con j dition." I "Well V " i hat you will produce witnesses who will make an oath to having seen you remain a good quarter of an hour with the individual said to j have trifled with your affections." "very well, Monsieur, I will retain jgu a9 counsel in the management of this affair. Good i day." A few days afterwards the young girl re j turned. She was mysteriously received by the i lawyer, who, scarcely giving her time to seat herself, questioned her with the most lively ; lv curiosity. ■ "Well, Mademoiselle, how do matters pros ' per 1" "Capital !" "Persevere in your designs, Mademoiselle, | but mind the next time you come to consult me, | you must tell me what the name of the young man is, that we are going to render so happy , in spite of himself." "You shall have it without fail, Mon | sieur." A fortnight afterwards, thp young person, , more naive and candid than ever, knocked dis creetly at the door ol her counsel's room. No ; sooner was she in the room, than she flung her self into a chair, saying that she had mounted the stairs too rapidly, and that the emotion made her breathless. Her counsel endeavored 1 to re-assure her, made her inhale salts and even proposed to release her garments. "It -s useless," said she, "I am much bet j ter." "Well, Mademoiselle, now tell pi? the name of the fortunate mortal vou are. going to ex , r — i> " _ , : "Weil, the fortunate mortal, be it known to you, I=—yourself," said the young beauty, bur sting into a laugh. "I love vou, I have been three times fete a tele with you, and mv four witnesses are below, ready and willing to ac company me to the magistrate," gravely con j tinned Ihe narrator. The lawyer, thus fairly caught, had the good sense not to set angry. The most singular (act of all is that he adores hi 3 young wife, who, by the way, makes an excellent house i keeper. I (tr-The • Marriage Bell-s" tintinabulate in the hymeneal lists of our exchanges in this fash ; ion : j Married in county, North Carolina, | by Rev. , Captain Graves, to Miss Nan | cy Graves. The graves, 'tis said, Will yield their dead, When the last trump shakes the skies ; 3ut if God please, from graves like these, A dozen living folks may rise. I In Erie, Mr. Henry Wiser to Miss Lucretia j Head. Wisely did Henry Wiser wed, In Erie town Lucre!ia Head, 'Tis hoped that he may richly prize her, For tho' she's lost her Head, she's Wiser. I A \ irginia paper records the marriage of : Miss .lan-* Lemon to Mr. Ebenezer Sweet, whereupon our "devii" moralizes as follows : How happy th- extremes do meet In Jane and Ebenezer ; For she's no longer sour, hut sweet, And he's a lemon-squeezer. Here it a brief, but pointed "essavon man At t.r>, a child ; at twenty, wild ; At thirty, tame, if e-er : At forty, wise : at fifty, rich ; At sixty, good, or never. Here is an essay on woman : At ten, a bud ;at twenty, in b'.oom ; At thirty, married, if ever ; At forty, mother; at fifty, aunt ; At sixty, the probability is that the old lady is something the worse for the wear. [GP"A good-looking young lady recently en tered a dyer's shop, and thus accosted him : , "You are the man that dyes, are you not 1" "No," replied the gallant, "I'm the man that j lives ; but I'll die tor you." np*On a tombstone in a churchyard in Ul !•. r, Ireland, is the following epitaph :—"Erec ted to the memory oi J >hn Phillips, accidentally shut as a mark of affection bv his brother." [YPAVp visited a school the other day, and among the many bright and happy scholars we noiiced one who was, to speak figuratively, "a perfect brick." "Paul," said the teacher, "was M rses ever married V "I guess not," answer ed Paul, "for the Bible don't say anything a bout Jtfrs. J,loses." IL7-The great wrong of society is in listen ing to every idle rumor—every malignant re port—every vindictive "hear say" which may have been s-t a going, whether such a rumor affects the integrity ola man, or the honor ola 1 woman. 03P*She that mat: ies a man because he is a "good match," must not be surprised if he turns out a "Lucifer." Yankee in loabas just taught ducks to swim in hot water, aod with such success ' that they lay boiled eggs.