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THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE.
j, B.
rusugHOts jjn> nopßuioKs.
P« annum, (payable iarariably In advance,) $1,50.
All paper* diacuntinaed -at tlia expiration ef the time
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0«r tlireaweeks and lew than three months, 25 cento
per »tuare for ; *»ch 6 nlontlia . 1 year.
Six tinea or teas ~4l> «»$' »{g
Oue square,„... 1 f , 0 0 10 00
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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.