TERMS OP PUBLICATION. |i j H it BEPFORD GAZETTE is published every Fri* fl ! lV morning by METERS 4 MBWGEL, at $2.00 per if paid strictly in advance ; $2.50 if paid ! within six- months: $2.00 if not paid within six * ~.,.nths- All subscription accounts MUST be - V annually. No paper will be sent out of r ,y ( state unless paid for is AHVASCE, and all such iacriptiona will invariably be discontinued at .v. expiration of the time for wbieh they are ii I U] ADVERTISEMENTS for a less tprm than | .v-ee months TEN CENTS per line for each ln- I ' f -tion. Special notices one-half additional All i f-olutions of Associations; •cnimunications of I ;ited or individual interest, and notiees of mar- I ->zes and deaths exceeding five line-, ten cents I Editorial notices fifteea cents per line. | Ml legal of every hi nd .and Orphans' f ,i:rt and Judicial Sales, are required by late I t published im both papers rnblished in this I • n All advertising due after first insertion. A liberal discount is mnde to persons advertising ' bx the quarter, half year, or year, as follows : A months. 6 months. 1 rear, •one sonars - - - $4 50 $ 6 I'll $lO 00 fan square* ---60® it 00 16 00 Tbree square* ---So# 12 00 20 00 t quarter column - - 14 0# 20 00 .15 00 Half column - - - 18 00 25 00 45 00 in* column - - - • 20 00 45 00 SO 00 ♦One squar* to occupy ene inch of space. JOB PRINTING, of every kind, done with : catnc• and dispatch. Tin GAZETTE OFFICE has IRN FYS AT LAW. BEDFORD. PA., will practice in ■.e courts of Bedford and adjoining counties Of " n Juliana St., opposite the Banking House of . d A Schell. | March 2. '66. R. DL'LTBORROW. I JOHN LUTZ. T\ I RBOR R<) \V & LUT Z , J | ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA , V attend promptly to all business intrusted to care. Collections made on the shortest no- They are. also, regularly licensed Claim Agents , will give special attention to the prosecution "aims against the Government for Pensions, iia-k Pay. Bounty, Bounty Lands, Ac. * die* on Juliana street, one door South of the J! nge! House." and nearly opposite the Inquirer joe. J>IIN P. REED. ATTORNEY AT ) LAW. BEDFORD, PA Respectfully tenders t ■•ervice* to the pnblic. office second door North of the Mengel House. • I Aug, 1. 1861. JOHN PALMER. ATTORNEY AT >) LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Will promptly attend • all business entrusted to his care. Particular attention paid to the collection of Military claims. Office on Juliana Street, nearly i write the Mengel House. Bedford. Aug 1. aW. nsi'Y M. ALBIP, ATTORNEY AT i'j LAW. BEDFORD. PA. Will faithfully nnd • civ attend t* all busincs.- entrusted to his ice in Bedford and adjoining counties. Military • back pay, bounty. Ac., speedily collected. Office with Mann A Spang, on Ju'iana street, ; • doors South of the Mengel House. 0 22. H64. I S!SMF.LL. I J- W. LINGEXFEI.TER. I'LMMELL & LINGENFELTER, IV ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA., ■W formed a partner-hip in the practice of I,aw Office en Juliana street, two doors South r he 'Mengel House.'' / 1 EL SPANG, ATTORNEY AT 'T. LAW BEDFORD. PA. Will promptly at -:;d to collections and all business entrusted to . ' care in Bedford and adjoining counties Office on Juliana Street, three doers south of the Mengel Hoaje," opposite the residence of Mrs. Is*.* K.y :s. 1994 I I BBTEHD I J W. DICKKRSON. MEYERS & DICKER-SON, AT TORNEYS AT LAW. Bedford. Pa., office ■line as formerly occupied by Hon. W. P. Schell, doors ea*t of the GAZETTE office, will practice the several courts of Bedford county Pensions, unty and back pay obtained and the purchase and rale of real estntc attended to. [ niayll,*6fi- JOHN H. FILLER, Attorney at Lam* ') Bedford, Pa. Office nearly opposite the Post office. japr.2o,'66.—ly. i l Uysiriaus and ticntists. I) IL PEXN'SYL, M. ]>., BLOODY I , Rus, P., (late surgeon 56th P. V. Y.,) ten rs his professional service? to the people of that ; tea anil vicinity. Dec. 22, fi.i-ly* W. JAMISON, M. I >-, BLOODY ' r , rex, Pa., tenders his professional serv"- to the people of that place and vicinity. Office '• loor west of Richard Lsngdon's store. N v 21, '65-ly hit. J. Is. MARBOI'RU, Having permanently located, respectfullv tenders ■professional serviced to the citisens ot Bedford ' i vicinity 'ffi-'e on Juliana street, east side, nearly opposite the Flanking House of Reed A Schell. llelford. February 12, 1864. * HICKOX. I J. . KlltiriCH. JR., hI: N T ISTS. BEDFORD, PA (See in the Bank Building. Juliana St. All operations pertaining to Surgical or Me trical Dentistry carefully performed. and war tir,r.|. Tooth Powders and mouth Washes, ex lent articles, always on hand TFRMS— CASH Bedford, January 6,1865. [ \R. GEO. C. DOUGLAS, Respect- I /fully tenders his professional services to the r p!e of Bedford and vicinity. 'FFICE—2 doors West of the Bedford Hotel, ve Border's Silver Smith Store. Residence at Maj. Washabnugh's. Aug. 24.'66 I iIKED. | J• J KIBLIM I) K K D A N I) S C II K L, L , IV Banters and IT KAL EUS IN EXV II AXG E, BEDFORD. PA., LFUFTB bought and sold, collections tnade and £ ey promptly remitted. • ta solicited. F ' W im .. ..O E. SHASSOX F. lIESF.niCT {HPP, SHANNON & CO., BANK II ERS, BEDFORD. PA. BANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT. ■•LECTIONS made for the East, West, North 4 ' N-uth. and the general business of Exchange '• *ed. Notes and Accounts Collected and "littanves promptly made. REAL ESTATE ,TJ ght and sold. Oct. 2FT, 1865. HNioccUancotts. hANIEE BORDER, Plrr STREET. TWO DOORS WEST OF THE BBD ' K & HOTEL, BEDFORD. PA MATCHMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL „ RY. SPECTACLES, AC. keeps on hand h wtock of fine Gold And Sil *r W atones, Spectacle!* of Brilliant Double Re -1 Glasses. also Scotch Bobble Glasses. Gold 1 -h Chains, Breast Pin?. Finger Rings, best \ v 'f. RKIMLND, Merchant Tailor, Bedford, Pa., keeps constantly on hand ready-made clothing, such as coats, pants, vests, Ac.; also a general as sortment of cloths, eassimeres, and gents' furnish ing goods of all kinds; also calicoes, muslins, Ac., all of which t rill l>f sold tow for rash. My room is a few doors west of Fyan's store and opposite Hush's marble yard I invite all to give ine a call. 1 have just received a stock of new goods. may2s,'6fl. t.ißl ir CAJfBAN D SEALING ' WAX at B. Mr. BLVMYER ACO S BEDFORD. PA.. FRIDAY MORNING. NOVEMBER 9, 1866. tilie (iETTIVG KID OF NPIRITS. When spiritualism first made its ap pearance in the village of N—,old Dea con 1 saacs, a weal thy man who had stoo< 1 by the church for nearly three seore years, was exceedingly bitter against all believers in the "devils works" as he -ailed it, and denounced spiritualists and spiritualism in no very gentle lan guage. Imagine the deacon's anger, then, when,six months afterwards it had worked its way into his own fami ly, and not only were his wife and daughters believers in it, hut oneof them was a medium, and possessed full pow ers to converse with the spirits of those who had departed to that "bourne whence no traveller returns." Deacon Isaacs was mad —dreadfully mad—but he had wit enough not to show it, and he bore the taunts of the ungodly with a meek spirit. He knew that it would be useless to declare open war, for Mrs. Isaacs alone had always proved more than a match for him, and he was sure to lie defeated. He must "circumvent the critter," as he ex press ed it, and to this end he set himself to work. He was ofsound judgment,and his worldly experience of fifty years was not thrown away. From the day it first eaine to his knowledge that his wife and daughters were spiritualists, he never spoke a word against, nor did he ever allude to it except in general terms in his morn ing prayers, but any one could see that it troubled him, for he was absent mind ed, his eyes wandered restlessly, and his countenance looked careworn. The deacon witnessed one or two sit tings at his house and was satisfied that if he possessed a little more knowledge hecould get rid of them. So one morn ing he went to the city, determined to thoroughly investigate the subject be fore he returned. After visiting two of the most popular mediums, and paying his money, he returned home satisfied that he could see through it. There was a "sitting" at the deacon's house on the night that he returned, and his daughter Mary—the medium invited the deacon to take a seat at the table, which to her gratification was ac cepted. The spirits wore in good tune and so exceedingly communicative that the deacon was induced to ask a few questions which were readily answered and wife and daughters were in ecsta ciesat the thought that fatherwould yet be a believer, and urged the deacon on in his inquiries. "Has my wifealways been true to her marriage vows?"askedthedeacon. To this question there were no raps in return, while Mrs. Isaacs stood trans fixed with holy horror that such a thought should enter her husband's mind. "How many years has it been since she was untrue?" Answer by single raps. They came slowly and solemnly, one, two, three, four, and so on until they reached twen ty. "How many whoclaim to be, are not my children?" Again the spirit rapped—one, two. Mrs. Isaacs looked dumbfounded. "Mercy!" said Mary. "Which are they?"asked thedeacon, who now seemed so intent on his sub ject that he paid no attention to his companions. "Mary—Sarah," rapped the spirits, the names of the two daughters, the older of whom was under twenty. Mrs. Isaacs could stand it no longer. "It's a lie ! I didn't! they are your children, Deacon Isaacs,and God knows it! she shrieked, rising from the table. "But the spirits affirm differently," said the deacon in a solemn voice. "Then they lie !" said the wife. "But if you believe them in every ; thing else, why not in this?" i "But I don't believe them at all; it is 1 all foolery." "Nor I," shouted Mary. "Nor I," added Sarah. "Then," said the deacon with a smile, "we will bid them good bye, and leave those tilings which God has wisely hid ■ from us, to he revealed in His time. The deacon's evening devotions Were ; characterized with more earnestness i than usual and the family retired to bed ! fully satisfied that the spirits did not | always reveal the truth. Mrs. Isaacs was glad that none of the | neighbors were present; but somehow i the story got out, and so fearful were j the spiritdamos of N—, that they might j be caught in the same trap which the deacon had set, that spiritualism and itsconcomitant evils were driven cut ire , Iy from the village. Patriotism in 1864 —No power on earth can or shall dissolve the 1 nion. Patriotism in 18(56—The Union is dis solved and all who deny it, are copper heads and traitors. Treason in 1864 —'To speak disrespect fully of the President and his policy. Treason in 1866—T0 speak respect fully of the President and his policy. —('apt. John McKee, a soldier from Indiana, who was badly wounded dur ing the war—shot through the body and lungs, and awarded a full pension of $240 pe. annum—has returned one half of his pay for the last year, declar ing that his health had become so much better that his conscience will not let him keep the whole amount. —A wallet containing a valuahledia mond ring and two dollars in money was recently taken from the stomach of an Ohio river catfish. NOUUNITY OF A SOUTH FUM.U. 15V "BRICK" POMEROY. Don gon my buttons if us folks down here don't amount to a little hit of melody after all. We were but a hand ful of cowards before the war killed off half of us: yet the great big North is afraid to have us in the Union ! We uns helped to make the Constitution and helped make our common country great, and when we saw danger of our rights under the Constitution being ig nored after we were educated by Aboli tionists to believe we had the right to secede, and to save ourselves did secede, dog gon us if these same men who wanted us out didn't want us back a gain ! They said we were a bill of ex pense to the Union—that it cost more to furnish us mails, revenue officers, Ac., Ac., than it came to, and when we wished to relieve the liberal North of this taxation on our account, dog gon us but they incurred more expense to keep us in than we were worth while we were in. And they didn't want us to work niggers, yet were willing to sell them to us, and to buy all the nig gers raised, and pay us in girncracks for the same. They drove us out of the Union. They said we had better go out. We took them at their word, for such good christians as populate the North must be honest, and they sent armies here to drive us back. They said we'll a right to secede,and advised us to do so. We took the North at their word. Then they said we could not secede. And they sent soldiers and thieves among us. While brave men fought lis, thieves stole from us the things we bought of them, and now insist on sel ling them over. We could stand their fighting, hut dog gon 'em, not their stealing! When we sent our wounded home, we found our homes were burn ed, or our goods stolen. They destroy ed or sold all we had, then blamed us for not caring for their wounded. They carried on war against us to drive us back into the Union. And when we were driven hack, they discovered that we were out of the Union. They wanted us to send members to Congress, and they sent them hack home. They say the war was a brill iant success. They say fighting, alone, can restore the Union, and still, when the fighting is over with, say war divi ded the Union. We have been subju gated, repudiated,dispossessed, disfran chised, contrabanded, reconstructed and desolated. We have quit fighting, yet are war red upon. We want peace, yet are promised war. We want to be in the Union, yet we are told we shall not come in. They call us infidels, yet for get Christianity themselves. If we are now without money, influ ence, power or prestige, why is the North afraid of us? If we are expect ed to lx i good citizens why do not the radicals of the North set the example? If we are not in the Uuion, why taxed by that Union? If we are not in the Union, where are we? If this is our reward fordisbandingour serried ranks, what was the use of disbanding? Why not keep on fighting? If we are not conquered, why not go 011 with war, renew the murderous crusade for cot ton, mules, niggers, jewelry and furni ture ? The men who fought us like brave men now say that fair play shall be the order of the day. The cowards, thieves and plunderers who robbed, desolated and desecrated us, now are anxious for another war upon us, so the balance of what we have may be stolen of us, and their pockets still fur ther tilled, and we are blamed for not laughing at our own funerals. We are asked to sing melodies while sitting on bayonets! We are asked to dance while the slow match is burning still brighter in our cellars. We are asked to sit still and be insulted by the men who stole from us—who insulted our women —who stole whileothers fought. We are asked to be good citizens, when we are treated like bad citizens. We are asked to beiieveothers who will not believe us even in tears. We are ask ed to grow flowers in the face of win try blasts yet piping from the North, and to deck our graveyards with flow ers while dogs are barking at our heels. The North claims the religion of the country, yet it jabs and stabs us with puritanical hate. All we want is ]>eace. We wish to repair the damages tiie war has made. We wish to live as brothers of a com mon heritage, yet we are treated like servants. As one of the Southerners I try to bear all this —I try to smile —I try to dance while our conquerors are fiddloing in drunken glee—l am ear nest in asking for the peace which was promised us, if we disbanded our ar mies—l keep faith with the North, yet the North will not keep faith with us. And 1 tell you, if we can't have the peace and rights promised us, life is a burden and we had better lose it at once. But I will wait awhile—for surely the sense of national honor has not quite died out in the North. There is a better day coming—another year will tell the story. ANTICIPATING the result of the Oc tober elections, the Richmond Whig says: "The South does not crave political power. All she wants is protection against menaced oppression. While she should not and does not intrude her self upon the arena of politics and en ter into party contests, her good feel i iugs are with that party which oilers tier the most liberal terms." MASSACRE OF THE IAXOCF.M S. A subject of deep in tens-1 is now be ing discussed in the Academy of Medi cine in Paris—namely, the frightful mortality among French children ac cording to the fashion of that country put out to nurse. Every year twenty thousand babies are sent out of Paris under the care of peasant nurses and of that number 5,000 on an average are re turned to their mothers, the other 15,- 000 having died of cold starvation, and bad treatment. Since 1810 it has been calculated that in the neighborhood of Paris alone 30,000 of these nurslings have died in the hands of their foster mothers. A frightful trade is also car ried on by speculators of the lowest class, denominated meneurx, who enrol coun trywomen in their pay convey them to Paris in cartsjustly called "purgatories" obtain for them babies whose mothers have applied to the offices for a nurse for their child, and convey them and the children back to the country. The horrors that take place during the journey to Paris and back in the vehicle of the meneur are ofsostartiing a nature that one could hardly believe them to be true were it not for the un doubted proofs which have been laid be fore the Academy of Medicine. Thus the countrywomen make no scruple in exchanging the babies entrusted to them, and several among them under take to nurse two or three children at a time. "I have seen," exclaimed M. Chevalier, addressing the Academy, "one woman professing to nurse seven infants, and yet she herself had neither milk nor a cow." Fed with bad broth, exposed to every species of dirt and neglect the miserable infant sickens and dies. The nurse, however writes to its motherthather baby isprospering, that it has grown out of its clothes, and re quired a fresh supply. The mother naturally spends her month's wages in supplyingherchild's wants, and goes on paying its board for months after it had been laying in the village cemetery. A considerable num ber of nurses come annually to Paris, and carry back a supply of children, and not one has ever been known to bring a child back to the capital. In their charge the children simply appear and disappear. A TREE WIFE. She is not a true wife who sustains not her husband in the day of calamity; who is not, when the world's great frown makes the heart chill with an guish, his guardian angel, growing brighter and more beautiful as misfor tunes crowd upon his path. Then is the time for the trial of her gentleness, then is the time for testing whether the sweet of her temper beams with a tran sient light, or the steady glow of the morning star, shines just as brightly under the clouds. Has she then smiles just as charming? Does she try by happy little inventions to lift from his sensitive spirit the burden of thought,*. There are wives who, when dark hours come, spend their time in repining and upbraiding—thus adding to outside anxiety the harrowing scenes of domes tic strife as if all the blame in the world makes one's hair white or black, orchanges the decree gone immutably forth. Such know that our darkness is heaven's light; our trials but steps in the golden ladder, by which, if we rightly ascend, we may at last gain that eternal light, and pass forever in its fulness and beauty. "Is that all ?" and the gentle face of the wife beamed with joy. Her hus band had been on the verge of distrac tion —all his earthly possessions were gone, and he feared the result of her knowledge, she had been so carefully cared for all her life. "But," says Ir ving'* beautiful story, "a friend advi sed him not to give sleep to his eyes, nor slumber to his eyelids until he had unfolded to her his hopeless cause." And that was the answer with the smile of an angel—"ls that all?" "I feared by your sadness that it was worse. Let these beautiful things be taken—all this splendor let it go, I care not for it —I only care for my dear hus band's love and confidence. You shall forget in my affection that you were ever in prosperity—only still love me and I will aid you to bear these little reverses with cheerfulness." Still love her! A man must rever ence, aye liken her unto the very an gels, for such a woman is a living rev elation of Heaven. VOTING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. —we learn that in Wabash Township, Ohio, the vote usually stands sixty-four Dem ocrats to six Republicans. As that township was well inundated, only fif ty Democrats voted and only two Re publicans on Tuesday. Under what difficulties these Democrats voted, few who did not experience the trial can properly understand; but these fifty Democrats deserve to be crowned with laurels for tlieir pluck. They traveled to the polls in skiffs partly, walked on dry land only a portion of the way,one/ waded (he balance ! < )ne old gentleman and his son, shirting from home at 7 o'- clock in the morning, did not reach the place of voting till 3 o'clock. During a portion of the way they waded through water up to their armpits! Many of the Democrats traveled in skill's till they would reach dryland, when they would carry their skids over to thenext bed of water, and so on till they reached the polls. Surely such I temocrats are never conquered. Three times three cheers for , Democrats who havef>luek enough to wade to the polls.— Evatisville Courier. VOL. 61.—WHOLE No. 5.371. PROFIT A BEE PRAYING.— An English newspaper says: A young lady was put into a train alone to go to London. As the train was on the point of starting a gentleman rushed up and got in. At this her friends, who were seeing her off, were rather annoyed, but thought it did not much signify. Shortly after the train had started, the gentleman jumped up and exclaimed, "This car riage is too heavy, it must be lighten ed," and straightway his carpet hagdis appcared out of the window. He sits still a few minutes, when he begins a gain, and this time his coat and waist coat follow his hag. Aftera little while he said, "Let us pray for the Duke of Gloucester" Down they go 011 their knees, the poor girl, only 17, too fright ened to do anything but obey. When that was done they prayed for the i >uke of York, and then for another—in fact, through a whole string of dukes; they then sit down, theyoung lady frighten ed out of her senses. Aftera few min utes he begins again: "It wont do; 1 cant stand it; the train is too heavy; either you or I must get out; 1 don't want to, so you must go." The girl, in despair, says, "But we have not prayed for the Duke of Northumberland." "Ah! no more we have." Down they go agin 011 their knees, when luckily the train stopped at a station, and the young lady called the guard, when it was discovered that the gentleman was a lunatic escaped from Hanwell. EVERYBODY who visited the White Mountains a dozen years ago, going from Portland bv the old White Moun- tain stage line, will remember John Smith, the driver. He was a man of moods, and frequently was the very opposite of courteous to his passengers. One day, his downward trip, he had as an outside passenger a very loquacious party, who, despite many rebuffs, per severed in attempting to make John taik. At last, in response to one of the gentleman's inquiries, John roughly answered, "You attend to your busi ness and I'll attend to mine." This was effectual, and Loquax shut up. The stage rolled on, stopped at Standish a few minutes to leave the mail, and went on. When a point some six or eight miles beyond that pleasant village was reached, John looked under hisseat and saw that the mail bag was missing. "There," said he, with much vehe mence, "Iv'e left that mail!" "Yes," responded the outside "passenger, "I knew you did." "Well, why the d—l didn't you tell me of it?" inquired the irate John. "Why, you requested me not long ago to mind my business and you'd mind .yours, and I thought I'd let you, but you don't seem to have done it," was the answer. John gath ered up his reins, turned his horses' heads the other way, and drove rapidly back to Standish for the missing mail. "A BACHELOR," lias addressed a let ter to the editor of the Boudoir , com plaining of the extravagant habits of the "young ladies" of this generation, on which the editor sensibly remarks: "From the account which this bache lor gives of himself, it appears that he is in exceedingly moderate circumstan ces in life ; and we judge from his let ter that he has fallen into a very com mon error of his sex in these days, of indulging in matrimonial aspirations far above his own position, lie sees brilliantly dressed, richly adorned young ladies who belong to families of wealth, or at least possessed of a good income; and it is evidently the hand of one of these to which he would like to lay claim. Because it is not in his power to meet the outlay required for the support of this style, iie falls to whining and railing about the pecuni ary obstacles to his wedlock. lie does not seem to be aware that these ladies will be very apt to obtain matrimoni al partners both able and proud to sus tain what he considers their "extrava gance and that what would be a burden or an impossibility for him to support, might be but a pleasure for another to upheld. Let this bachelor "on thirteen hundred dollars a year" not aim at the daughters of fortune, or strive to make alliances beyond his own humble sphere. Let him earnestly seek for and be satisfied with a good stout damsel on his own social level, and, our word for it, he will not need to remain a bachelor another thirty years." Ax "IIOXEST AGENT."—A few days since, says the Richmond Dispatch, a i citizen of Richmond, having occasion to visit Surrey county, met with an old slave in a very destitute condition and almost naked. The negro told him that he had been working for an agent ofl the Freedmen's Bureau, at four dol-j lars per month and his food. He only j received three dollars per month, and no rations. His former master went J with him to the man and asked him ifhe was an agent of the Bureau. The fel low very insolently replied: "Is that any of your d—n business?" The gentleman replied: "It is, sir. This man was once my slave. I have always treated him well, and don't intend that he shall be im posed upon now." He then produced the negro's labor contract, drawn up in legal form, and made the man pay the negro what was due him—about seventy dollars. When lie returned to Richmond he nmde complaint of the affair to the authorities, and the agent has since been discharged. The Illinois girl who lately lost her speech(save whispering) has had forty offers of marriage. Inquire* X I TO BERSCRIBERH IX ARREARS. : Those porsons who have not ; paid their subscription to THE : GASBTTK for t.hc yenrqomuien cing 1K£.,'85, and for the present year commencing I niifr.,'M, can get a receipt for I both vears by paying $1 50 at I or before next November Court ! If not paid by that time, our terms (which will be found at the head of the first column,) trill be strictly adhered to. It will bo noticed that tho above yellow slip of paper upon which the subscriber's name is print ed, is dated and indicates the tuns to which his paper is paid with the present firm. We hope that all delinquents w ill j at once remit the amount due | us. . MKVERS AMENOBI,. ' IX . CAN'T COOK.— ltisa sad defect when young ladies are incapable of directing their own servants —shoes without soles, or wristbands without a shirt are not more useless than one of these. One day shortly after his marriage, a young merchant went home, and see ing no dinner ready, and his wife ap pearing anxious and confused, asked : "What is the matter?" "Why, Nancy went off at ten o'clock this morning," replied his wife, "and the chambermaid knows no more about cooking dinner than a man in the moon." "Couldn't she have done it under your direction?" inquired the husband very coolly. "Under my direction? I should like to see a dinner cooked under my direction." "Why so?" asked the husband in surprise. "You certainly do not think I could," replied the wife; "how should I know anything about cooking?" The husband was silent, but his look of astonishment perplexed and wor ried his wife. "You look very much surprised," she said, after a moment or two had elapsed. "And so I am," answered he, "as much surprised as I should be to find the captain of one of my ships unac quainted with navigation. You don't know how to cook, and the mistress of a family! Jane, if there is a cooking school any where in the city, go to it, and complete your education, for it is deficient in a very important particu lar.— Rural American. A FRENCH journal tells a little story about a lady: "When I was first mar ried 1 was on my knees before my hus band from morning till night. It was a perfect adoration and incessant delir ium—an inexpressible bliss. I shower ed caresses upon him ; I could have eaten him." "And now," asked a friend. "I'm sorry I didn't." ffooo ADVICE.*— Mr Peabody recent ly addressed the school children of the Peabody Institute at South Denvers. Mass., closing his remarks in the follow ing beautiful words: "At my advanced age I cannotexpect to meet you again collectively, and it is to me a saddening thought, for though since I addressed your predecessors at the time I have mentioned, I have met many assemblies of children and to some I have spoken—founded on a long expe rience—words of simple ad vice and cau tion, yet, in none on either side of the Atlantic, can I feel so deep an interest as in the children of the schools of South Denvers. They seem intimately associated with the thoughts of my childhood and early youth; they take the same lessons, they occupy my play grounds and their feet tread the same paths over which I once trudged to school. With such feelings, therefore I earnestly exhort you, my dear young friends, to strive by your present ad vantages to prepare yourselves for a life of usefulness in the responsible po sitions which you are to fill; to honor, and if necessary protect and support your parents ; to never depart from the path of honor and integrity,and, above all, "Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, and when you are old he will not forsake you." Farewell, Farewell. Tin; IDLER. —The idle man is an an noyance a nuisance. He is of no bene fit to nobody. lie is an intruder in the busy thoroughfare of every day life. He stands in our path, and we push him eontemptously aside! Ileisof no advantage to any body. He annoys busy men. He makes them unhappy. He is a cipher in society. He may have an income to support him in idleness, or he may "sponge" on his good natur ed friends. But ineither case he is des pised. Young man do something in this busy, bustling, wide-awake world! Move about for the benefit of mankind, if not for yourself. Do not be idle. God's law is, that by the sweat of our brow we shall earn our bread. That law is a good one, and the bread we earn is sweet. l)o not be idle. Minutes are too precious to be squandered thoughtlessly. Every man and every woman, however exalted or however humble, can do good in this short life, if so inclined; therefore do not be idle. Two OF 'KM.—A young fellow whose better half had just presented him with a pair of bouncing twins, attended church one Sunday. During the dis course, the clergyman looked right at our innocent friend and said, in a tone of thrilling eloquence, "Young man you have an important responsibility thrust upon you." The newly fledged dad, supposing the preacher alluded to his peculiar home event, considerably startled the audience by exclaiming, "Yes, I have two of 'em." MONTESQUIEU was discussing a ques tion with a counsellor of the Parlia ment of Bordeaux, who was witty but rather hot-headed. The latter conclu ding some fiery remarks, said: "Mr. President, if this is not as 1 tell you, I will give you my head." "I accept it," replied Montesquieu, coolly. "Small presents keep up friendship." PitiDE.—The chief and common companion of pride is ignorance. Our pride feeds itself by dwelling upon the possession of some ornament which we believe to lie extraordinarily brilliant. But did we see the precious jewels which adorn many others in like cir cumstances, we should meekly set our selves to increase our store of grace.