A a»pR».-, L^SSiMo i to oar eoio ie They wtn^SrJ'^S^J it s £ ;± || I Jb R OM r B}ti * U te :• o* $ >l i i<iy llyil R. g g a : |8 : lis« rSS? 49- ' s i bakerti ED AjrjßWjtf- B,*OTS,SHC*B i aped gtoek of plain ettam. tAlsiss,.^, Seat. - . t- Blasses, -filler, HE A T FTjOVR, t* MEAL, *C„ 'w'WßWSftiL tfe Oort yon Wllt Sm) '■'■ wooß.nant. ’lONWHltffi mskw bOt'Jfyoa^^ i Mockjuri w«oc. Mfcr ptjea* , ««»o* wart, «Ho w*k>h- JKooabuVth «»»«,. fcussitfcfcl TN H. ROBERTS. INTIN COO GAMMEP^Ik^m Mil snjfc ■ \ IS’&SftSSL jS®® t¥lP®^.9srP:^^t Mr 6wS®gWSt f®Wflr *1 ■] KR’sj Agency, HOUSE- « ; sK BOOKS TiONiSaffißS IXD. - :i. ym 1 fj - vt a. ASSISI . v V '' ♦ ! •■* | 1 t * 1 ;-, -V ;{! t ! ;• !' 1 McCKtTM & BERN, TOL. 7; THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE. j, B. rusugHOts jjn> nopßuioKs. P« annum, (payable iarariably In advance,) $1,50. All paper* diacuntinaed -at tlia expiration ef the time paid for tUMfI Of 1 Insertion 2 do. 3 do. .Four lines or lees - * * *,52 00, square, | g| ?h«e '• (24 “ ).’■'• -1 M 2 00 2-60. 0«r tlireaweeks and lew than three months, 25 cento per »tuare for ; *»ch 6 nlontlia . 1 year. Six tinea or teas ~4l> «»$' »{g Oue square,„... 1 f , 0 0 10 00 & ,=::: £S.«ta=l jooo >l4 00 20 00 Notices. J ». Memento advertising by the year, three squares, Vrafctiolmror 10 BueinSe Cards, lit exceeding d # Q& tomtuuniraKs’ofa lilißcai character or *°‘i* v * dual ta utest will be charged according to the alo\ e rates. Advertisenien.e not marked with the number of inser tion desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac cording to the above term*. ■ business notices five cent*per line for every insertion. ObS notices exceeding ten linen, any cents a square tribune directory. CHURCHES, MINISTERS, AC. PRESBYTERIAN—Eev.— Butis, Pastor—Preaching crory Sabbath morplng at 11 o'clock, and in Inc evening at 7 o'clock. Prayer Meeting in the Lecture Room every Wednesday evening at 7 o’clock. Sabbath Schuul in same room at 9‘4 o'clock in the morning. > METHODIST EPISCOPAL—Rev. W. Let Spotswood. Paitor.— Preaching every Sabbath morning at 11 o'clock, and in the evening at 7 o'clock. Prayer Meeting in the hectare Room every Wednesday evening at 7 o’clock.— Sabbath School In the same room at 2 o'clock P. M. EVANGELICAL LUTHERAN—Rev. C. L. EnnrareLD, Pastor.— Preaghiug every Sabbath morning at 11 o’clock, and in the evening at 7 o’clock.. Prayer Meeting in the Lecture Room every Wednesday evening ate o'clock.— SsbUatb School In same room at 9 o’clock A. M. < BAPTIST— Rev, A. 11. Sornowra, Pastor.—Preaching eearj Sabbath morning at 11 o'clock, and in the eveningat 7 o'clock. Prayer Meeting every Wednesday evening at 7 o'clock. Sabbath School at 9 o'clock A. M . L SITED BIIKTHRKK—Rev. Sincix. Kepiiact. Pastor. Preaching every .Sabbath morning at 11 o’clock, and in the eveningat 7 o'clock. Prayer Meeting in the Lecture Room ei cry Wednesday evening at 7 o’clock. Sabbatu School in tbe same room atC o’clock in the morning. PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL-KKo regular Pastor.)— Ptesching on Sabbath morning at 11 o’clock, and in the evening «t 7 o’clock. Prayer Meeting every Wednesday evening at 7 o'clock. Sabbath School at 9 o'clock A. M. ENGLISH CATHOLIC—Rev. JouN Tl’ioo. Pastor—Di vine services every Sabbath morning at lojd o'clock and in the afternoon at 3 o’clock. Sabbath School at 2 o'clock In the afternoon. (lEKJIAN CATHOLIC—Rev. —. jfctor. —Divine service* every Sabbath morning at 10£i o'clock, and in the afternoon at 3 o'clock. Sabbath School at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. AFRICAN METHODIST—Rev. Alexander Johnston. Psitor.—Preaching every Fourth Sabbath in each month, prayer Meeting every Friday evening at 7 o’clock. Sab bath School at 2 o’clock iu the afternoon. RAIL ROAD SCHEDULE. DM AND AFTER MONDAY. JAN. 27, ISG2. TRAINS will arrive at and leave Altoona Station as follows: B (press Train East arrives 9.35 P.M., leaven 9.55 P.M, “ « West « A; M. “ 8.40 A.M Fait • “ nßast '«■ 7.40 A. M; “ 7,65A.M. “ « -West “ 8,55 P.M., “ 9.10 P.M Mail <« East “ 11.60 A. M., “ 12.05 P.M “ ** ;W««t 41 3,15 P.M., “ 3,30 P.M The nOLLIDATSBCRQ HHANCI! connects with Ex press Train West, and. Fast Line hud Mail Train East ami weit. ' . INDIANA BRANCH TRAINS ronnoct with Mail train •a<l Johnstown Accommodation Ea»t and West, E.xpret* West, aud with Local Fiefohta. ENOCH LEWIS, Ceu'l .Voy >t. MAILS CLOSE AND OPEN. MAILS CLOSE. Kaitern Way Wwtfrn Way.—... H*lUJay«barj{ Western Through. tiacern Through. MAILS ARRIVE IT(4lid«3'sburg...... \V efitera Through Eastern TJirongh Western.' W»y Eastern “Wny/...:.. Ornc* Uodfcfl:—During the week. from 6 i 5 A. m. till 7 00 p, m. Ofl Sundays, from 7 45 till 0 00 x. m. " , GKO. W. PATTON P. 31 MEETINGS OF ASSOCIATIONS. MOUNTAIN LODGE, No. 281. A, Y. M.. mvcta on second Tuesday of oach month, at 7l£ o'clock V. 51., In tlu< third •torv of the Ibuonlc Temple. MOUNTAIN R. A. CHARIER, No. 18# R. A. C., mwti. on the first Thursday of each month, at 7J£ o’clock P. M., in 'same room As above. MOUNTAIN COUNCIL, N 0.9, R.A S.M, meets on (die first Monday of each mouth, at 714 o'clock I’. M., in same room as above. MOUNTAIN COMMANDSRY. No. 10. K. T. meets on the fourth Tuesday bf each mouth, at o'clock P.M, In same room as above. - ALTOONA LODGE. No. 473, 1. 0- of 0. V- meets every Friday evening, at o'clock, in the second atory of the Masonic Temple. VERANDAXODQE, No. 532, 1.0. of 0. F., meets every Tuesday evening, at"7JJ o'clock, ia'thhd story of Patton’s Building, on Virginia street. 1 WI.NSEB.AnO TRIBE, No. 35, I. O. R. M., meets every Tuesday efenigg In th’e second story -of Masonic Temple.- Council lire kindled at 7th run 30th breath. ALTOONA DIVISION, No.Sll, 8. of T„ meets every Saturday evening, at 7 o’clock, In the second story of tho Masonic Temple. STATE OFFICERS. Oottrnor —Andrew G. Curtin. Srcretary of Sate—Eli Sllfer. Attorney General—'William M, Meredith. Auditor General—Thomas E. Cochran. Surveyor Gw.rol—William L. Wright. Adjutant General —E. M. Biddle. Wnte Jreasurer—Henry D. Moore. BLAIR COUNTY OFFICERS. Judgeiof the Courts.— President Judge, Hon George Tav lor. ABHcbtw, Eamnel Sean, Adam Moses. State Senator—Boa. Lewis W. Hall. Ar^fmUyauia—Thaddenj Banks. Pn&mutary— Anthony S. Morrow. ’ ■R&uter and ifctwder—llngb A. Caldwell, xyry—gomael McCamant. Deputy—Jolm Marks. tJoWtf Attorney—Benjamin L. Ifcwit. . ,'“) r OannOerioner, —George L. Cowan, George Koon, James M.,Kink end. ■ ’ OountySuTTeyor —James L. Gwin. i rttutirtfr—John McKttgo.. recforl—^rterG o °l l. William Barley, Da»ld °*ilS r t WiUarS ~ K ' M ' Ll °^ d ’ Bol,t - M - Mostimor, L. L. kroner—A. J. Preman. S*J*rinicnd€nt r/Omwum Sckortt— John MitchtU. altooma borough officers. Jailiees of the 'Peace— Jacob M. Cherry, John McClelland. £wye»»-John Allison: , JJ* A. Bmytli,Daniel Langbman. Jolm Me- X*' ?^ w £? d ’ °- *- UosWtUr, X. J. Menrino. Cln* to OmndU —B. M. Woodkok. mntak Treoatrgr—Daniel Langhman. DirteUtH—Oeo. B. Cramer, John Shoemaker, J.B. mieman, Wm. Boyden, James Lowtber, E. A. Beck, "ounrer of ,fe»ool Board—J. B. Hllomai. Ely. * * 0/ Sole, ChJHty, Borough an# Sehcul To»—Jos. Lerwlher. C. J. Mann, Alex. McCormick. Jkrf If r J.L. Bciftnjder. "/ Eleett«i»_Bast Ward—William Maloney. ;; “I WestWard-Johnli.Pipeir. Sorth Ward—Chrlatian Khistler. Jt-Gtesae, Jolmßooper. • o ; - .. jWwtWard—J, R. Bsllntsn. Robt. Pitcairn*. .: Wrth Ward—Robt. MeCdtmtek,’ JohrCfedo. .H. C. DEKN, ll 00 A.M. 1 8 00 -■.'B 00 A.M. k 11 00 A. M. 7 00 P. M - 700 “ .. 8.15 A.M. A 11 15 A.M. 3 10 A.M. 8 iu “ ll 22 A.M, ■ 1 85 P. M. €Mcs fetbf. LAW VERSUS SAW; —OB—* fvottx tli© Office Window. 1 Sitting in the office *aa a lawyer, Standing In the street was a sawyer; On the lawyer's amdoua lac* You could read a knotty caac, Needing law; While the sawyer, gaunt and grim, On a rough and knotty limb, Ban hie saw. Kow his aaw-hprse scorned to mo Like a double-X in fee; And the saw, Whichever way’t was thrust, Slant he followed by the dtut, Like the Into! And the log upon the rack, Like a client on the track, Played its part, As the tempered .teeth, of steel Made a.wound that wonld not heal, Through the heart. And each severed stick that fell, In its failing seemed to tell, All too plain, Of the many severed ties That in law-suits will arise, Bringing pain. Then methought the sturdy paw That was using axe and saw On the wood, Held a yielding mine of wealth, With its honest toil and health, Doing good. If the chipr that strewed the ground. By some stricken widow found, In her need. Should by light and warmth impart Blessings on her aged heart, Happy deed! This conclusion then I draw, That no exercise of jaw t .Twisting India-rubber law, Is as good As the exercise o? paw, Ou the handle of a saw, Sawing wood. OBEYING OKDEES. A Story of tlie Hattie*Field, ' A French yetcran with one arm, was seated before the door of Ids neat cottage, on a pleasant evening in July. He was surrounded by Several village lads, who with one voice entreated him to commence his promised story. The bid man took his pipe from his mouth, ■wiped his lips with the back of his remaining hand, mid began thus: In my time, boys, Frenchman Wotdd have scorned to fight with Frenchmen iu the streets iis they do now. Jfo, no; when we fought, it was for the honor of France and against her enemies. Well rny story begins with the Oth of November, 1812, a short time after* the battle of-Wiazina. Wc were beating a retreat, not before the Russians, for they kept a respectable distance from our cantonments, but before 'the biting cold of their detestable country, more terrible to tis than Kussians, Aus trians, and Bavarians all put togetlSqr.— For the last few i,days, our officers diad been telling us that ,we were "approaching Smplcnsko, where we would be certain of finding food, fire and shoes; but in the meantime we were perishing in the icc, anil perpetually hamissed by bands of Cos sack riders. We had inarched about six hours with out pausing to take breath, for we knew repose was certain 'death! A bitter .wind hurled snow-flakes in our faces, and now and then we stumbled' orer'tffe corpses of our frozen comrades. singing or talk ing! Even the grumblers ceosifd to com plain, and that was a bad sign. 1 I walked behind my captain ; he was a short man, strongly built, rugged and se vere, but brave and true as his own sword-blade. „ We called him Captain Positive, for when he once said a thing, so it was—np appeal: he never‘■changed his blind. He had been wounded at Wi azma and his usual red face was now quite pale, while the pieces of wi old white handkerchief, which he had wrap ped around his legs were soaked with blood. I saw him first move slowly, then stagger like a drimken man, and at last he Ml down like a solid block. “Parbleu! Captain,” said I, bending over him, “ you can’t lie there.” “You see that I can because I do,” re plied he, pointing to his limbs. Captain,” said I, “ you mustn’t die thus,” and raising him in my arms, I managed to place him on his feet: He leaned on me and tried to walk, but in vain; he fell once more, dragging me with him. “John,” said he, “’tis ajU pver. Just leave me here and join your colninns as quickly as you can. One word before you go; at Vcreppc, near Grenoble, Uycs a good woman, emhty-four years old, my —my mother. Ho to her j embrace her, and .tell her that—that—etollhcrwhat you like, bqt give her this purse and my cross. That’s all.” “ Is that all Captain?” “Jsaid so. Good by; and haste,” : Boys, I don’t hnow how it was, but I felt-two tears feeing oh my cheeks. /‘.No, Cajilain,”iTied - '[L “TnvbU’t ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1862. leave you—either you shall come with me, or I will stay with you.” * “ I forbid your staying.” : “ Captain you might as well forbid a woman’s talking.” “If I escape I’ll punish you severely.” “ You may place me under arrest then, but just now you must let me do as I please.” , “ “You’re an insolent fellow.” “ Very likely, Captain, but you must come with me.” He bit Lis Up with anger, but said no more. I raised him, and placed his body across my shoulder like a sack. You may easily imagine that while bearing such a burden-I could not move as fast as my comrades. Indeed, I soon lost sight of their columns, and could perceive nothing but the white silent plain around me. I moved on, and presently there ap peared a band of Cossack’s galloping to wards me, their lances in rest, and shout ing their flendish war cry. The captain was by this time in a state of total unconcionsncss, and I resolved, cost what it might, not to abandon him. I laid him on the ground, covered him .with snow, and then crept under a heap of my dead comrades, having however my eyes at liberty. Soon the Cossacks reached us, and began striking their lan ces right and left, while the horses tramp led the bodies. Presently one of those rude beasts placed his foot on my left arm and crashed it to pieces. Boys,-I did not say a word ; I did not move, save to tlirust my right hand into my mouth, to keep down the cry of torture, and in a few minutes the Cossacks disappeared. When the last of them had ridden off, I crept out and managed to disinter the Captain. He showed few signs of life, nevertheless, I contrived with one hand to drag him toward a rock which offered a sort of shelter,' and then lay down next to him, wrapping my capote around him. Night was closing in, and the snow con tinued to fall. The last of the real guards had long disappeared, and the only sound that broke the' silence, were the whistling of distant bullets and the nearer howling of the wolves,'which were devouring the dead bodies. God knows what things were passing in my bosom that night, which I thought would be my last on earth. But I remem bered the prayer my mother had taught me long 'ago, when I was a child hy her side, anil kneeling down I-said it fervently. Boys, it did me good, and always re member that sincere prayer will do you good, too. I felt wonderfully calm; when I resumed my place beside the captain. . But time passed on, and T was becoming quite be numbed, when I saw a party of French officers approaching. Before I had time to address them the foremost —a low-sized, man, dressed in fur pelisse, stepped toward me, saying— “What are you doing here? Why did you stay behixid your regiment ?” “For two good reasons,” said I point ing first to the captain then to my bleed ing arm. “ The man speaks the .truth, sir,” said one of the followers. “I saw him march ing behind the column, carrying the officer on lus back.” The Emperor-—for, boys, it was he— gave ine one of those looks which only himself or an Alpine Eagle could give, and said: “'Tis well: you have dene well.” Then opening his pelisse, he took the cross which decorated his inside coat and gave it to me. That moment I was no longer cold and hungry, and felt no more pain in my arm than if the ill-riaturcd beast had never touched it. “Devonst,” said the Emperor, address ing the gentleman who had spoken, “cause the man and captain to be placed in the ammunition wagon. Adieu!- And waving his hand towards me he passed on. ' . Here the veteran paused and resumed bis pipe. ' “But telLus about the cross and what became of Captain Positive,” cried several impatient voices. > The captain still lives, and is now a re tired general. But the best of it was, that when he recovered he placed me un der arrest for liftmen days, as a punishment for my broach iof discipline. The circum stance reached Napoleon’s ears, and laughing heartily, he not only released me but promoted me to be a sergeant. As to the decoration, here is the ribbon, hoys— I wear that in my buttonhole, but the cross near my heart. And unbuttoning his coat, the veteran showed his young friends the precious relic enveloped in a little satin bag suspended around his neck. Seeing Not Beijevisg. —A young man, meeting an acquaintance, said; [' “ I heard you ivere dead.” But,” ?ays the other, “ you see me alive.” “ I do not know how that may he,” re plied ho, “ you tire a notorious liar, and myinformant was a pcrscmofcrcdit.” * [iKDEPESDEST IK EVEBYTHIKa] THE CHIPPEWA’S TBIAI. Adventure in Northern Michigan. Near the head waters of the Mainstee river is one of the most beautiful lakes in the West. It is known to the few hunters who are acquainted with its locality as Clear Lake. It is about twenty miles long and eight miles wide. The numerous streams which empty their waters into this lake abound with mink’and otter, and the country round about abounds with deer, bears, wolves and other animals. • The Winter of ’46 found myself and Ben Waters encamped on the shores of the out let with the intention of hunting and trap ping until Spring. We had a good supply of traps, ammunition flour and salt, which we had drawn on hand-sleds; And we cal culated on making a big haul before Spring. We were strong and healthy, and our rifles furnished us with plenty of meat We had first-rate luck; and it wasmlready the last week in January., I had gone out to the traps, expecting to find a warm breakfast prepared on my return. On nearing the log cabin however, I was surprised at not seeing any smoke ascending from the stick •chimney. I quickened my steps, thinking that something must be wrong. When about twenty rods from the cabin, an In dian rushed out of the open door, followed by Ben’s dog, who followed ! him a few steps, and then went back into the cabin. I was loaded with the gatoe that I had ta ken out of the traps, and before I could un sling my rifle, the Indian dodged behind the cabin and fled into the wood. I en tered the cabin, and a scene met my gaze that made me sick at heart. On the hearth lay Ben, weltering in his bloodj his faith ful dog standing guard over his dying mas ter. In the farthest comer lay- an Indian shot through the brain. “Are you hurt bad, Ben?” said I, as I stooped over to' examine his wound.: “ Yes, Sam, I’m going fast,?’ said be, “ but I shot one of the red devils, and the other shot me, and would liave scalped me, but Wolf drove him off. He has stolen my rifle and everything else he could find. Now Sam do you follow him and put a bullet throughjiis dirty carcass,” . “He shall die, Ben, if 1 have to follow him to Port Adams.” Bed breathed Ids last almost as soon as I ceased speaking; and, tilling my pockets with bread and meat, I shouldered my ri fle and started. Hour after hour I fol lowed on the track of the murderous sav age. It was nearly dark, aud 1 was walk ing swiftly through a narrow ravine, when suddenly I espied an Indian drinking at a hole which he had cut through: the icc at the edge of a small lake. Thinking it to he the one 1 was pursuing, I.t-aised my rifle and fired, lie sprang into the air, with a yell, and fell back dead. An an swering yell sounded at my right, and the same Chippewa tliat I had seen: rush from my cabin door stepped from behind a rock and fired at me. 1 felt the ball strike me in the stomach: I saw the Indian bound ing toward me with an uplifted tomahawk. I drew my revolver aud endeavored to steady myself, but failed, and Ml senseless to the ground. 'When I awoke the sun had set, and Ben’s dog lay by my side.— I thrust my hand into my right veslpocket and drew 'forth my watch; it was ruined, hut it hud saved my life. The Indian who had fired at me lay at my feet, Id's throat torn out. The dog had done it I lie had ar rived just in time, for he would not fol low me when I first left the cabin. I took the Indian’s buffalo robe and: gave it to the dog to sleep on; and wrapping myself in my own robe, I lay down arid -went to sleep. I awoke at daylight; quid taking nothing that I had brought but peri’s rifle, for my stomach pained me so that I was unablcto carry more, I for Clear Lake. ■ ‘ I reached tlie log cabin before night, and found that a party of deer hunters had taken possession of it. They had buried Ben and the Indian, and intended to hunt for deer and bear a couple of weeks, and then return to their homes, about fifty miles south of Clear Lake. Before I went to bed that night, I arranged with them to carrymy furs and trap* back With them. Tfie next morning, when I visited inv traps, I found them well filled with game, and it was the last that I caught at Clear Lake; for the pain that the Indian’s bullet gave me in the stomach did not leave me until another Winter had passed away.— When the deer hunters returned to then' homes, 1 went with them; but I rode more of the distance on their sledges than I walked. And never since the lime when Ben lost his life, and I came so near losing mine have I visited Clear Lake, though I often visited it before, in Summer as well us Winter. & ' ■■ A Goon Judge.—“"\yhaf a lovely woman!” was the exclamation of Lord Chancellor Eldon, upon passing a first class beauty, when pacing upland down Westminster Hall, with his friend the Mas ter of thp Bolls, previous to the opening of Ihetr respectivo' (mrfrfa “ jjfhat ancs dojlent jwlgel” said this lady, when her sensitive ear caught the flattering decree of the fyord High Chancellor ;bf England. A PRACTICAL CAMP-JOKE. Gen. Nelson and the Mule - Driver. An army correspondent of one of the Cincinnati papers says:' ' Oar boyS are furious for practical jokes, and. are; constantly on the look-out! fee subjects. One was recently in the person of a new who bad just taken charge of six large, shaggy mules. John wakalso proprietor of two bottles of Old Bourbon—a contraband in camp—which a wag discovered and re solved to possess. Being aware that the driver’s presence was an impediment to the theft, he hit upon the following plan to get rid ojf him; Approaching the driver, who was busy currying his mules, he accosted him with— “l say, old fellow, what are you doing there'?” : “ Can’t you see?” replied Jehu, gruffly. “Certainly,” responded the wag, “but that is not your business. It is after tat too, and there is a fellow hired here by the General, wl*o curries all the mules and horses brought in after tattoo.” The mule-driver “bit,” at once, and wanted to know where the “hair-dresser” kept himself. Whereupon he was directed to Geri. Nelson’s tent,, with the assurance that there was where the fellow “hung out.” “ You Can’t mistake the man,” said the wag; “life is a large fellow, and puts,oh a thundering sight of airs for a man in his business. lie will probably refuse to do it, and tell you to ‘go to the devil!’ but don’t.miua that; he has been driuking to day. Make him come out, sure/” . John posted right off, and entering the tent where bur Napoleon of the Fourth Division sat in deep reverie, probably con sidering die most expeditious method of expelling | the rebel Buckner from his na tive State, slapped him on the back with force sufficient to annihilate a man of or dinary size. Springing to his feet, the General accosted his uninvited guest with —Well, sir, who are you? and what the deyil do you want?”, “ Old boss, I’ve got a job for you now— six mules-to be curried, and right off, top,” said the captain of the*-mules, nothing daunted by the flashing eye of the indig nant General. , . “Do you know wlibm .you are add|csp ing ?” asked Nelson. ir Yes;” said John, elevating Ins voice to a pitch which rendered the words audi ble a square offi “you are the fellow lured hy Uncle Sara to clean mules, and I wpn’t have any foolishness! Clean them mules, and. I’ll give you a drink of bustheadl’f “You infernal villain!”-exclaimed the General, now perfectly furious, “I am General Nelson, the commander of this Division!” John placed the thumb of his right hand against Ids nose, and extending his fingers, waved them slowly, in a manner supposed by some to be indicative of great wisdom. The General's sword leaped from its scabbard, and Jolm from the tent jnst in time to save his head! Our bpysdrank “ the big mule-driver’s” health in the Bourbon. The story soon got put, and is now the joke of the season. “ TnE I’iiOOF OF THE PUDWNG.”— The question on the tapis at a business meeting of some of the official members of the church, was to find a suitable man to fill a vacancy in the Board of Trustees. A gentleman in business.as a wholesale gro cer was named by a member present as a very suitable man for the place; but his nomination was vehemently opposed by another brother, who .was very zealous in' the temperance cause, on the ground that in the why of his business he sold liquor. And appealing to Brother A , one of the oldest members present, who, from his solid and clerical look, was called the ‘Bishop,’ he said, “ \yhat do yon Brother A-*—?” “Ah 1” jfcaid Brother A—, looking very grave, 1 drawing up his cane with a view to. emphasize and give point to what he had to say, “ that is not the worst of it” [solemn shake of the head,] “that is not the worst of it !” “ Why, Brother A——said the oth ers, crowding ’round and looking for some astounding developments, “ what else, is theret” i “ Why,” said Brother A , bringing down his ijane with a rap, “he don’t keep a good article —I’ve tried it!” Showing ueh Coloes.-—A gentleman from Chcdt Mountain fells the following: A squad of Indiana volunteers, out scouting, Came across an old woman in a log cabin in the mountains. After the usual salutation?, one of them asked old lady, arc you secesh?" \ “So,” was her answer * “ Are you Unioh?” ■ “No.” - “What arc you, then?” “A Baptist, and otys have been?' The HoQsier let down. • tr<st »9ko the rawk, 95$ of our : “ Ugb S' laTCh ;■■ r: •’ ?• -• EDITORS- ANDPROWRBETPORS 4.QOVS £ASZ JUIDKAI. [“ Ethan Spike” contribute* tothePort ' land Transcript a sketch of his experioseo ;as a juryman,. The first oases fie was | called upon to try were criminal ones—the criminals being a German and a negro respectively:] ■ ' f ' “ Jfoy yon formed any opinio* for of agin the prisoners?” said the judge. u : / “Not perticular agin the Jamiu,” sfys T, “but I hate niggers as a general princi ple, and I shall go for hanging'this old white-wooled cuss, whether he killed Mr.' Cooper or not,” says I. “Do you know thWnatur of an oStlt?** the dark axed me. . ; i : “I orter,” says I; “Pro wed enough of ’em. 1 begun to swear when I wus about——” “That’ll do," saj's the dark. i'Tpil kin go hum,” says he; “you won’t lie wanted in this ere case,’’ says the darkf says he. ‘ ; > I “What!” saj’s I, “aint Ito try tliitf; nigger at all? „r' | “No,” saj-s the dark. : v .i “But I’m a jewryman,” says I, “-and vou can’t hang the nigger ohlcss Pro lot’ on him,” saj’s I. I “ Pass on,” saj’s the dark, speakin' ra ther cross. - I “l3ut,” says I, “you mister, you. don’t mean as you say; I’m a reg’lar jewiyaam% J r ou know; ilrawcd aout of the by the seelek man,” gays' I. “I’ve oilers had a hankering to hang a nigger/ and' db#j when a merciful dispensatory seems- tot have provided one for me, you say 1 shan’t sit on him! Ac this your free Is this the nineteenth ccnt’ry? And ia this our boasted— -•’* 1 Here somebody hollered “ Silence in the Court!” “ The Court he !” ] didn't ish the remark, for a couple of constables had holt of me, and in the twinkling of a bed-post I w«s hustled down stairs into’ the street. .. - , ** “ Katfv* pdHo& let ask what are we comin'tlxi, when jewiymcn—legal*, lawful jewrymeh, km be tossed about in this way? ’ Talk about Canters,lldrnions. Spiritualism, free love, and panics~*wfaai* are they in comparison ? Here’s a prin ciple upsot. As an individual, perhaps Tin of no great account; t’au’t fuf mb to say; but when as an enlightened je wryman I waS'tukand carried down stairs bypfO fane hands, Just for asserting my rightto sit on a nigger—wy it seems to me that* the pillows of society shook ; that ip my sacred person the hull Starte tyaa figgeratively spekin’,-kicked fera statre! If thar’s law in the land, Til hare this* case brought under a writ of habeas (&&•■ pus or icksey Dicksit.” A Tkmpebaxge Leottke.— The ing conversation took place in a store in this city, a day or two since, between a fcastomcf from the country; and' the pre£* priqtor: i * Customer.-~-“Got any Whisky?'* . Merchant.—“ Yes, sir; how high priced will you hare?”' ’ v... . C.—'“O, about two bits, (25 cents,) I reckon.” The whisky was drawn,- and W tumblerfull of the cheap damnation swab*' lowed by way of a start. TJie customer then shook himself, made several wry faces* and prpceeded with— 1 “TIoW do you-fell coffee t” ’ *' " ' M. —“ Four pounds for a dollar.” C.—“ Too much; can’t afibrd it; Hpw* much is molasses?” • | M.—‘“Sixty cents per gallon.” v C.—“ That's too high; can't stand fh%{f How much is teal” , I M.—“ Good article from eighty cent* to a dollar. . j* C—-“ Can't afford to use tbat |a my. fiimilj-. (Sot any tobacco-?*’ M.—“ Yes, very good,” C.—-“ How much is it?” ! M.—Forty cents per pound.” C. —“ Give us a pound.” No comment necessary.— Dav. l£m. Shaiu* Physician.— Somewhere out West a lad swallowed a smalt lead His friends were very much alarmed about it and his father, that no means might be spared to save his darling boy’s life; sent post-haste to a surgeon of skill directing andVgo his coming The doctor was found, heard (he tale, and with as much unconooniaiilni would manifest in a case of common, .ache, wrote the following laconic note: “ Sir—Don’t alarm w«- ' Jtf ■ three weeks, . the boy a charge P.S.—Don’* This is mu< scription of ths the doctor, sfai boy Tim haa> be. your boy * waf£ • ■> ,f • i? Ir NO. 3.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers