VOL. LVI. HARTER, AUCTIONEER, REBERSBURG. PA. J C. fePRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Next Door to JOURNAL Store, MILLHKIH, PA. JgROCKERHOFF HOUSE, (Opposite Court House.) H. BROCKEBHOFF, Proprietor. WU. MCKKKYKR, Manager. Good sample rooms on first floor. Free bus to and irom all tralus. Special rates to jurors and witnesses. Strictly First Class. IRVIN HOUSE, (Most Central Hotel In the Cltjj Corner MAIN and JAY Streets, Lock Haven, Pa. 8. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor. Good Sample Rooms for Commercial Travelers on first floor. jyt. D. H. MINGLE, Physician and Surgeon, MAIN Street, MILLHKIH, Pa. JJR. JOHN F. HARTER, PRACTICAL DENTIST, Office In 2d story of Tomlinson's Gro cery Store, On MAIN Street, MILI HKIM, Pa. Br KIISTER, • FASHION A BLE BOOT A SHOE MAKER Shop next door to Foote's Store, Main St.. Boots, Shoes and Gaiters made to order, and sat isfactory work guaranteed. Repairing done prompt ly and cheaply, and in a neat style. S. R. PEALE. H. A. MCKKK. PEALE AT MOKEE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Office opposite Court House, Ballefoute, Pa. C. T. Alexander. C. M . Bower. A BOWER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. ! BELLEFONTE, PA. Office in Carman's new building. JOHN B. LINN, ATTORNEY AT LA W. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street. QLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BKLLHFOKTX, PA. Northwest corner of Diamond. jQ H. HASTINGS, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, 2 doors west of office formerly occupied by the late Arm of Yocum A Hastings. M. C. HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices In all the courts of centre County. Special attention to Collections. Consultations in German or English. F. REEDER, • ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. All business promptly attended to. Collection of claims a speciality. j. A. Beaver. J W. Gephart. A GEPHART, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Alleghany Street, North of High. 17 MORRISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLBFONTE, PA. Office on WoodrlngM Block, Opposite coon House. _____ JQ S. KELLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Consultations in English or German. Office In Lyon's Building, Allegheny Street. JOHN G. LOVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, 6 BELLEFONTE, PA. # Office in the rooms formerly occupied by the kete w P. Wilson. lie pittlrifi SintrtuvL SONG. For all that we have sale, Sweet, Ami all that we have done, Our eyes are still afraid, Sweet, To face to-morrow's suu. We know that this must te, I/>ve, The hour when tlrat wo mot. Ami yet we eaunot see, Love, How each may each forget. To-raorrow, then, we part love, And tfo our separate wava, And sunder heart from heart, Love, Ami sunder face from face. And now what does it bring, Dear, * hts great love, at the end? A soug for me to amg. Dear, Sad days for >ou to spend. TKYING TIM US. "Broiled spring chicken for tea, eh?" said I. "And lobster salad and fried oysters! Upon my word this looks as if we weie going to have company." "So we are, my dear." said my wife, looking a little guilty, as she polished up the surface of the big silver tea-tray with a new chamois leather. "They arc all coining to visit me—Uncle Silas,and Auut Melioent, and the children and Cousiu Joab, and the two Miss Wiliuer diugs, and my Aunt Louisa, to meet the j Rev. Mr. Speakwell, from Minnesota, j who married my cousin Jerusha Wilde. Mr. Speakwell is troubled with the ca tarrh, and he thinks of staying at our house for a few weeks, while he is being j treated by Mr. Dosem." I put down my linen duster and brown paper parcels with some empha sis. "Oh, confound the Rev, Mr. Speak well!" said I. "John!" ejaculated mv wife. "Well, my dear, I can't keep it, ' said I. "It's not iu human to endure every thing. And I've been relationod out of all patience ever siuoe our marriage. The Jenkinses went away last week, the Birdaaes took an affectionate leave yes terday, and now. just as I was contem plating a peaceful evening by ourselvos, here's a new swarm, Hungrier than the rest, just about to settle down upon us ! In my opinion Kitty, my dear, relations should be abolished." "I am surprised at you, John," said my wife. "My own people, they are so fond of me." "There's where you are mistaken, my dear," said I. "It's your comfortable spring beds and good cookery that tkey are fond of, not you," "John!" "I'd be willing to wager a good round sum ou the truth of my assertion," said I, "Because you have no relations your self " "Thank Providence for that!" said I, devoutly. "I was reared in a foundliug asylum, aud have nobody to thank but myself for my tolerable success in the world." "It's no reason you should find fault with mine," said Kitty, with her bright blue eye full of tears, "Aud Mr. Speak well is such a spiritually-minded man, and dear Uncle Silas loves you just as if you were his only sgn, aud Cousin Joab is so interested in our children." "I'm much obliged to 'em," said I, dryly. "But I slept all last weak on soft cushions lying in the bath tub; and we had fourteen people here over the anniversaries, and I was obliged to giye up my own room for a month last wii> tor to old Mr. Manse well, not to f>peak of our being half poisoned with Aunt Louisa's hygeiau messes in the fall. When the poet said, 'There's no place like home.' I presume he meant when there were no relations visiting. I'll tell you what, my dear/' with a sudden inspiration, "I've a great mind formally to deed over this house for your rela tions, if they will agree solemnly to leave mo ill peace for tho rest of my life, wheresoever I may f it up my family tents." "Nonsense!" said my wife. "Do go up stairs and change your things, and brush your hair and get ready for tea. They're all waiting in the best parlor, and I was awaiting your return to see about hiring some cot beds from the village hotel, to put up iu the attic for those four little Speakwell children. You see, Aunt Louisa has the blue bed-rooms, and Cousin Joab sleeps in the little wing chamber, and Mr. and Mrs. Speakwell will have our room and " "Indeed!" said I. "And we are to sleep in the barn. I suppose?" "Don't be cross, John," said my wife appealingly. "One must be hospitable, you know. And I can easily make up the sofa-bed in the back p;irlor for our use, for a week or so." I said nothing, but ground my teeth iu silent despair, as I sprang up stairs, two steps at a time, to make what chan ges I could in my toilet, by the aid of a ten-by-twelve glass hung over the wash stand of a stuffy little bath room. The Rev. Mr. Speakwell was a big man, with a still bigger voice,and a limp, faded little wife, whose sole earthly, interest seemed to centre in her four white-eyed, freckle faced children. Un cle Silas and Aunt Melicent were a silent ' couple with excellent appetites, and two boys, who giggled and snickered at each other in the intervals of the conversa tion. Cousin Joab talked incessantly with his mouth full, and the two Miss Wil merdings served as general echoes to the rest; while Aunt Louisa devoured MILLIIEIM. PA.. THURSDAY FEBRUARY 9,1882. lobster salad ail libitum, and kept up sending up her cup for some green tea, i until I trembled for her nerves, while i my wife, careful and troubled, like Mar tha of old, with many things, looked ready to drop with the hospitable exer tions she hail made, and I. sitting a mere cipher at the head of the table.felt as if I was keening a boarding house without any of the pecuniary emolument therefrom. • "My trunks will be up in the live o'clock train," said the Rev. Mr. Speak well; ''lll trouble you, Cousin Poyutz, to send an expressman to the depot for 'em. And if there's any department iu this domicile, Cousin Poyutz, that could lie fitted up as a study for my temporary use, it would greatly facilitate mv intel lectual occupation during my sojourn iu tho suburbs of this great city. And I hope the children will be kept still during the hours which I devote to stu dy-" Here my wife looked at me aghast, thinking of little Johnny, and the baby. "Never mind, my dear," I remarked, sotto voice, "we can easily get 'em boar ded out somewhere." "Ami," went 01. Rev. Mr. Speakwell, "1 should esteem it a favor if a horse and buggy could be procured for my daily use when going to Dr. Dosern. in the city, as the motion of the train disa grees with my nervous system." "I don't happen to own a carriage but I might buy one." •'Thank you, thank you, Cousin Poyntz," said Rev. Mr. Speakwell, blandly. "And if there's any other littte thing you should happen to want, pray don't be backward in mentioning it," 1 add ed. "No I won't, Cousin Poyntz," said the reverend gentleman,with the utmost gravity. And lam bound to say that he kept his word. For three days I endured the swarm of yisitors which literally infested my home, and then I made up my mind that patienoe had oeased to be a vir tue. "I'll put a stop to this thing," said I. I mine home one night with u tragical expression on iny face. "Katharine," 1 said to my wife, "I made a sad mistake in buying those shares in the Western Union. More than that, I am sorry to say, the owner is ruined !" "What!" cried all the company at once. "Those shares of Western Union, you know," said I, with a heavy sigh. "Yes, dear," gasped poor Kitty. "They have gone down," said I. "Oh John." "I wish I had taken your advice, and let 'em alone," said I. I looked beamingly around at my wife's relations. They returned the glance by the blandest of stares. "If I borrow two Hundred dollars a piece from all these dear kindred," said I, with obtrusive cheerfulness, "and request Uncle Silas to indorse my busi ness notes—" "I couldn't think of such a thing," hurriedly interrupted that geutlemau. "I should be most happy to oblige, but I am quite out of funds at present,' said Cousin Joab. "And I," said the Rev. Mr. Speak well, pushing back his chair, "must save what little share I posses of the world's filthy lucre to pay my passage and that of my family back to Minneso ta." "Surely," cried I, "you would not go away me in such pecuniary straits as these." The liov. Mr. Speakwell significantly buttoned up his pockets. "It is every man's business to look after himself, Cousin Poyntz," said he; "and I don't scruple to say that it is downright dishonesty for a business man like yourself to get into such financial difficulties." And in fifteen minutes every cousin in the lot had, upon one excuse or an other, vanished from the room, to pack and prepare for immediate depart ure. I looked at my wife; my wife looked at me. I burst out laughing; Kitty be gan to cry. "My dear," said I, "it's an easier job than I thought it would be. I didn't know but that it would be necessary for me to catch the small-pox before I could gef rid of your relations," "But are we very poor, John? And must we give up this dear little cottage? Oh, how cruel it is of Uucle Joab, and Mr. Speakwell, and Uncle Silas, and all of them, not to help you ! I know Ma riana Wilmerding has fivethousaud dol lars that she wants to put out at inte rest, for she told me only yesterday, and—" "Yes, exactly," said I. "But proba bly she doesn't regard me as a good in vestment," "After all I have done for them )" sobbed my wife. "Relations are only human my dear," said I. The company took their leave without much ceremony or adieux, and that afternoon my wife came to me. with tears in her eyes. i "John," said she, "will vou tell me how much money you have lost iu that horrid Western Union Stock? Because would rather know the worst at once." "Lost?" repeated I, looking up from the newspaper, which I was reading in Uncle Silas' fuvorite easy chair, now vacated for the first time in many days. "Why, I only lost a tnfio " "You said you ruined." "Excuse me. my dear, I said nothing of the kind. I merely stated the West ern Union shares had gone down, and their owner was ruined. But 1 am not the owner, as I sold out my shares a week ago. Their depreciation, with other still more serious losses iu their specu - lations, have ruined their owner," "John?" "Yes, my dear." "How could you ?" "Very easily," said I, with a latent smile, "My dear, 1 think if your rela tives had stayod another week I should have committed suicide." "And you told that horrid story jußt to get rid of them?" "I made that unimpeachable state ment with that precise intention." ' They were rather trying," confessed Kitty. "And I thing they might have helped you a little when they thought you were bankrupt." "They will not come visiting here agaiu," said I, quietly. And 1 was right. Thev did not. Sitet>p-Hunting In Colorado. Walking in the midst of lovely soenery and watching the day break in such in finite splendor says a correspondent, I must confess that I became somewhat careless as to my hunting, and stumbled right on top of a little baud of sheep feeding on the level ground before I was aware of their presence. In fact, I did uot see them until they started. 1 fired, but without any effect, and set the hound, poo • old Plunk, after tliem. They had got too good a start, and he could uot come near them, but after a while I noticed a little sheep lagging be hind. Thinking Plunk might overtake it, I started off at my be*t pace after him. It is no joke running over rough ground at an elevation of some eight thousand feet on a blazing hot July morni*g in Colorado, and I puffed and blew and "larded the lean earth" in the most generous manner. When I came up I found the sheep perched on a little pinnacle of rock at\d the hound baying furiously below, Toor little beast, I pitied it. It was ouly about three months old, and it looked very forlorn, It was very slightly wounded, also, a fact which I did not know before. I went up to it and patted it, and the poor little creature d.d not seem much frightened, and did not miud my touch ing it a bit, but it would not follow me. It was too much afraid of the dog, I fancy. I did not know what to do. I wanted to keep it alive, for a tame siieep is somewhat of a rarity. I was afraid to leave it alone while I went for a wagon, and I was afraid of leaving the hound to watch it, lest he should run in ui>on it and kill it during my absence. So I concluded to pack it into the ranch on mv back. A nice job I had of it. The little animal was strong as a donkey, and kicked and walloped about all the time. It was us much as loould do to keep it on my shnu'dera. By that time the forenoon was far spent and the sun god "was pourdowu with tropical strength. I don't know which of us was most exhausted when we got to the ilouse. However, I was none the worse, but the j)oor little sheep never recovered. He drank lots of milk, and seemed all I ight for the first day, but after that he pined away and died in throe or four days. Running sheep with hounds is a good deal practiced in some places. I don't like it. It is a reprehensible habit, and scares all the game out of the country. It is a very sure ami easy way of killing slioep if you have a first-rate dog and the ground is suitable to the sport; but unless those two conditions are fulfilled the chance of success is small. Your hound must be very spoedy and stanch and accustomed to tho busi ness, and the sheep must be found near some isolated pinnacle or crags of cliff. You creep up as near as you possibly can to the game, and thou start the dog at them, yelling and hallooing to scare them as much as possible as soon as you apercive that they have caught sight of the liound. The sheep will run straight up the mountain and will beat any dog in a short time; but if the bound has got a good start, and if the ground has been pretty level at first, he will press them so hard that one, or perhaps two or three of them, will take refuge on the first precipitous cliff or crag they can find. If that happens to be an isolated rook, so small that the dog can keep guard round the base of it, he will keep the sheep at bay—''treed,"as they say in Colorado—unless his master comes up. But for one successful run you can make many unsuccessful ones. Nothing scares game so much as running them with dogs, and consequently, it is a pas time that ought never to be pursued, or at any rate hardly ever, and then only when you can be quite oeatain of suc cess. The place where I caught the little sheep was very favorable for run ning them, g?his world belongs'to the energetic. There is no calamity like ignorance. ' 'The foot goes where the heart leads, i "Each kind is good for its own kind." A Romance of the Foreal. Some time ago a perty of three Black Feet and three hundred Crees Indians left for Low river, Canada, on the .warpath across the line against the Crows. A large number is said to have been killed. An old and well known Indian, who has just died, before his death made a confession which entirely cleared up what had been a fearful mystery for a half century. Fifty years ago Nicholas Gar laud, a pioneer, took a tract of laud situated iu what is now the township of Beckwilh. in the couuniy of Lauouk, built a cabin upon it and proceeded to clear away the dense for est stauding upon the tract. At that time he had a wife and one small child, a very pretty little girl named Alice. One day Alice did not return from the edge of the clearing, where she had been playing witu two other children. An alarm was raised and all the woodmen in the country there abouts joined in a search which lasted many days, but resulted iu no clue of the uuasiug child, and the general verdict ar rived at by the hunters was that Alice had been carried off and devoured by one of the bears with which the country then abounded. The conclusion seemed to l>e corroborated by the discovery of some clean, small bones a few months aiterward n a deep hollow a couple of miles from, Gai laud's cabin. They were gathered carefully together and buried by the fa ther ami mother of Alice near their home, all ihepeop for miles arouud attending the funeral, which was the first ever held in that section by the whiles. The loas of her child and the terrible strain of the long suspense, and the ghaatly discover subse quent, broke down the strong constitution of Mrs. Garland, and she died with a bro ken heart, not long after the funeral Mr. Garland, after his wife's death, became , hard and ascetic, never referred to his trou- i ble, never associated with nis neighbors I and has ever since lived a hermit in the cabin he first built. This old ludian who recently died, however, says that he saw Alice on that tlav when she was playing with her companions On the clearing, be came facinated with her childish beauty and carried her away and raised her as one of his own in his family. When she be oame marriageable she was thoroughly In- | dianizea and her abductor managed lo nave her married to one of bis sons. She is now living in Bruce countp, and is the mother of a large family, She has never shows that she has any recollection of her parents or home, and appears happy. The dying ludian said that so well had she been cared for that he believed no one could have conviuced her of her real ori gin or induced her to change her lot, and he added that no one but himself and the son who married her was ever made ac buainled with her history. The contess- j ion is believed to be true, and has caused a profound sensation. How Bottles are Made. The manufacture of glass bottles is very simple in itself, though for the pro duction of tine work great skill is requir ed. The fin ess bottles now made are blown, as they were in the earliest days of bottle-making, without the use of a mould, the operation being performed by simply gatUeriug a proper quantity of molten glass upon the end of a metal ic blow-pipe, and forming it into shape by holding it in various jx)sit.ions while expandiug it by blowing through the tul>e, and occasionally applying pressure with some tool of very simple form. Gen erally however, bottles are made with the use of a mould in which glass is blown because in this way time and lal>or are saved. It may be said that all the bot tles, and jars, etc., in oommon use and made iu the United States are blown in moulds. Occasionally bottles will show by a seam on the side where the parts of the mould come together. The finer glassware bottles are blown. The mould is usually made of iron, and is in two parts which are hinged, and can be open ed and closed instantly. For making the smaller bottles a boy is required to open and shut the mould as required. For larger bottles, the parts which arc hinged at the bottom are closed by means of a lever, which is moved by the foot of the operator. From three to five persons are required in the oper ation of bottle making. In the case were the lever is employed, three hands are needed— one, a buy, to gather the mol ten glass on the end of the blow pipe, one to blow the bottle and shape it to the mould, and a third to finish the neck and mouth and correct any defects in form. After the mouth is finished, the bottle is taken to the annealing furnace, where it is placed upon a pan, which, with several others attached together in the form of a chain, which is drawn slow ly through a long, horizontal oven When the pan arrives at the opposite end of the oven, its load of bottles is removed, and it is returned to the mouth of the oven to receive a new load. An Honest Boy. A loy walked into an office with a po okot-book in his hand and inquired if Mr. Blank was in, "That's my namo." replied one of the gentlemen "Well, here's a wallet with your name in it." "Yes. I lost it this morning." He received it, and the boy started down stairs, but was halted by the call: "Say, boy. what's your name?" "Oh, that's all right," replied the boy as he backed down. "Tain't worth your saying I'm an honest boy and offering me ten cants for my trouble, for there was only fifty cents in the wallet and ma used that to buy some soap and a new clothes line." In these days we fight for ideas, and newspapers are our fortresses. It is not so hard to earn money as to spend it wU Slap Up The Sqaara. "It is very hard to lose a husband," sobbed the Widow Wiltwingle, as she guzod down upon the features of the ! late lamented, and wondered whether she could borrow a long mourning veil. " Yes," sniffed the undertaker. " But all fiesb is Timothy V. 22, and it only | remains for us to plant him in as fashionable a shape as we can. Hadn't we better plow him under to-morrow ?" "Isn't that too quick ?" sighed the widow, who knew she couldn't get her washing from the laundry until the day after. " I don't believe he'll keep," said the undertaker, eyeing the deceased criti cally. " This here in pretty hard wea ther on meat, and he'a liable to sp'ile unless you shovel him under pretty sudden. He smells bad now." "So he docs," replied the widow, sniffing at him cautiously. " And yet I hute to put him in the ground." " You can Btore him in the receiving vault for a while, if you like, but if 3on try to keep him around the house long he's likely to bust open' and you'd bet ter not have it if you can avoid it." "Is it cold iu the vault?" asked the widow with streaming eyes. "It ain't so remarkably tropical," re sponded the undertaker. ''Mourners generally put stiffs in there now; and you can pop him into the grave when ever it's handy. By the time you get ! around to it he'll be so far goue you won't mind it. If I was you I'd stick him in the vault for a few weeks." "Well, I suppose i is best, and per haps we'd better do it to morrow." "All right," said the undertaker. "I'll can him up during the day and in the morning 111 team him over to the church Don't cry, just heel yonraelf pretty well up with scripture and you'll put tl rt ugh Would you like a rosewood or a velvet duater for him?" ,'Rosewood, by all means. Please handle him tenderly." "Oh! we may have to hump him around a little, but we'U make it as easy as we can for him. How many teams will you want to haul the grief?" "I think ten will be enough," replied the widow. "O, what shall Ido when he's gone?" "Don't think of that now," sympa thized the undertaker, as he made a few memoranda in his note-book. "He's keeping up his end with the angels, and you know the Bible says the Lord is a shepherd who leads us around by green pastors. Brace up, and think of him as being where the wicked oease from troubling and the weary get the best. Who have you got to do the pious busi ness?" "Our minister is preparing himself now." "That's all right. I'll be around again during the day to try the box on, and I guess I'll freeze him a trifle, or you can't stand him by morning, This is terrible on defuncts, but we'll slide liim away as well as we can, and you'll just bust with pride to see how it is done." And the simple-minded, good hearted undertaker left the widow to her grief, while he went to order his men to "slap up the square thing by old Wiltwin gle," who had sprung a leak in his mor tal Ceil." Tlie Horse Shoe and It* Application. The number and disposition of the nails depend upon the kind of shoes. For speed and light draft, from five to seven may be employed, while for heavy horses and for heavy draft the number may bo increased. When few anils are used tlm should be m' re widely distri butod than is usual the custom W r hen it is remembered that the introduction of every nail is so much injury to the structures of the foot, it will readily be seen that the smaller the number requi site for the purpose the better for the animal. In driving the nails, it is es sential that a thick short hold of the crust should be had, rrAher than a loug thin one, Not only is the shoe held more firmly, but there is a probability that the nail holes may, by the down ward growth of the horn, be removed at the next shoing, which in most cases should not exceed an interval of four or five weeks, The points of the nails should be shortened to just that length which will permit them to be turned over aud hammered down smoothly, with perhaps the least possible rasping. The common method of rasping notches for tne ies of the nails is not advisable. In fact, as I have already said, the rasp should never be used upon the external walls of the hoof except in cases of absolute necessity to prevent striking of the opposite limb. Its use destroys the natural polish, exposes parts beneath which are not fitted for such exposure, and renders the horn brittle, and liable at any moment to quarter cracks and other ma ladies. Idleness is the refuge of weak minds, and the holiday of fools. Sow good services; sweet remem brance will grow from them. The heart is a loom, and it may weave whatever it pleases. It may make life a continual progress towards triumph. Can there be any tiling more in human nature than to tliink, to speak and to do whatever good lies in our power to all ? POOD FOR THOUGHT. Right in the main—gas. But very apt to be wrong in the metre. "His fortune has turned into nails and straws," refers to a prodigal. "Work for thy character until it be renewed, then it will work for thee." "If the ass is invited to the wedding it is only that he may carry the woo