i I’S vS' ~ i33ba.ej?y 3 to £h£ PtelfUn IISn«S nafrosßadl ■d returnai*] M ttw Wtjr. Tb«jwal 4 %m nc*W*. ud i § i ! t *J» a ' .-w? J, \ offi Mf- ■ Ns.-:*#;; ’ | h 2 <5 jg£> .« I«. |;i-: 6 m ! S||i a I Iff tom ißsfSi- f v |gß|| ■ L&siS ND BAXEBY' signed annodn. «• of tbe.jMr. , Molasses, B«br, W. WHEAT FLOUR, I, CORK **«, *c, » bop or Mil quatttk*. "? «tock r ab» fleu ItOVB. „ „. jaoob mpyt iUESTIQN WHICH ■*'*> HOES Kt <rf hi* »toek »o 4 watk. rf^'towrtm^aipihrifijfco« b« »Ben ■!&]( prieM, ■lrg^itnl^faUadtaM ■ jobs a. sennas. Igeaey, abusg. n books, mmAsm ymm*; VAJOBIT {udsusp. li'iiiiiis ?iojsr®w \& fiftrai&pv, m ® ?j3s>Sf*4^ife%w aSK^liplS^-i w.' ' T”' '. ■v ' m* £#»• ?* M McCKUM & DERN, VOL. T- PEWWSYLVANIA’S dead. In Pennsylvania's History There’s many a noble name Of statesman true, or chieftain bold, V Whoso deeds rank hiftli in fame 5 Krow the great and Christian sage, Whoso first gave glory to the pago, Down to tholaet soul-stirring hour, Winch saw hot dad in hope and power- A star too bright to dimmed bo By : othpr OT the envied free. Where’er a valUant deed was done- Wiiere’cr a vict’ry proudly won Ilqr sturdy son, tliolr valor lent, Arid of their life’s-blood freely spent. And marched through mis’ry’s fiercest throes, Tu hurl tjefltniclion ’mfcnget bur fjee. VVfaore greet Ohio cullun flows. By Schuylkill’s mucky flood, On Siwquehiinua's lovely shores, i'holr deeds arc writ iu blood. \Ali hallowed Is the sacred clay. Mado mellow with their botes, Where more than Roman warriors lay, Breed from the battle’s tones. ’ Why cross Atlantic’s surly waves, And pass old Europe o’er, To search for places of renown, N When here is brighter lore ? Europe’s field hat© drtthk_nmch blood To aid tyrannic aims But Liberty led pn our hosts, Aud consecrates our plans. At Valley Forge’s noted mouhd WUst thoughts ennobling rise— Ste how the sutTring hero paves His pathway to the skies. Wyoming’s rich aud blood-bought vale— Where is the eye so .bold That has not shed the pitying tear When her sad tale was told f poult's marble marks the fate Which crushed* gallant band, But, oh! their loader lived *o servo With valor great the land! ttevenge, deep-seated on his brow* Gave vigor to his frame— The British soldier trembles now, When told of daring Wayne. Oh, thelr’s were proud—aye, holy fates, Who, in the gallant strife Gbd yielded up their richest boon— ban’s dearest jewel—Life! Xo compass limits marked their course, Js’or bar their deathless fame, For Freedom’s flames when truly felt, permit no selfish claim. They need no monuments—those men Of sterling worth and patriot deed, Fbr first in glory’s rank they stand, A|od none deny the rlch-oarued meed; Each freeman’s heart a casket is, Wherein their actions deeply lie, And never will they be forgot, ’T|U Liberty herselfshall din! SUBDUING A REBEL. \' ; A STORY OF THE TIMES. There lived in a certain neighborhood; not far distant from here, a royslering,; rowdy bully, Jim .Blander. Jim wasi “some”,on a fight, a kind of pugilistic ; Napoleon. Many and bloody were the; affairs-be had in his lifetime, and invaria bly ihe came off best. Jim not only con sidered himself invulnerable, but all the. fighting characters conceded it was no pse in fighting Jim, as. he was considered to be a patent thrashing machine, that could not be improved on. In Jim’s neighbor hood had settled quite a number of Qua kers. From some cause or other, Jim listed the “shad-bellies,”. as he called them, with his entire heart; he oftert de tlafed that to whip one of these inoffensive people would be the crowning glory of Jus life. For years Jim (Waited for a pretext. One of Jim’s chums heard a young Qua ker speak in disparaging terms of him.— The report soon came to Jim’s ears not a little magnified. Jim made desperate threats what he was going to do with Na tlian, the meek follower of Penn, .on sight, besides various bruises and contusions he meant to inflict on Nathan’s body.-' Ini this chaste language he meant to “ gouge out” boih his eyes and “ chaw oft” both his ears. ; Nathan heard of Jim’s threats, and very properly, kept out of his way, hoping that time would mollify Jim’s anger. It seems, however, this much-to-be-desired result did not take place., One day friend! Nathan was out riding, and in passing , through a long lane, he espied Jim enter* ing at the otherend. Nathan might havC turned and'fled, but his flesh rebelled at this proceeding. < “I will pursue my way peaceably,” said die Quaker, “and I hope the better sense of the man with wrath will not perjnit him to molest igp, or allow him to do vir olence to my .person.” Nathan’s Calculations as to the lamb* ■ qualities of his adversary were doomed to be disappointed. ’ ■‘‘Oho,”- thought bully, as he recognized -Nathan, “I have him at last. Now I’ll make mince-meat of shad-belly. * I will suit him and pickle him, too.” , ilt thou please to dismount front «y horse ?” said Jim, seizing the’bridle of horse, and imitating his style ) my soul yearneth above all things to pve thee the hipest mauling man ever received.”. ; “ 1* riendJames,” replied Nathan, “thou must not molest me, but let me go on my way m peace.. Thy better judgement will surely tell thee that thou cannot possibly be benefitted by personally injuring me.” “Get down in a moment,” thundered Jim ; “g6t down, you canting, lying, mis chief-making, cowardly hypocrite. . Til drag you down if you don’t dismount.” “ Friend James, I remonstrate against thy proceedings and against. thy lan tguage,” replied Nathan. “My religion [teaches me sincerity; I am neither a liar, I; a mischief-maker nor a hypocrite; I am |no coward, but a man of peace; I desire I to pursue ray way quietly—-let me pass ion.” “Get down,” persisted Jim, “down with you; I want to beat some of your re ligion out of you; I must, give you a flog ging before I leave you; I think by the time I am through with you, you will pass for a tolerably decent man; i’ll teach you a short and easy lesson on the impor tance of minding your own affairs, and the risk you run in slandering your neigh bors.” “ I will not dismount said Nathan, firmly; “loosen thy hold from thejnidle.” “You won’t, won’t' you,” said Jim; “ then here goes,” and be made a desper ate plunge to collar the I Quaker. ■ Nathan was on his feet in an instant on the opposite side of the -horse-,, The ! Quaker, although of much smaller propor tions than his persecutor, was all sinew and muscle, and his well knit form denoted both activity, and strength. His wrath ‘was evidently kindled. ' . [“ Friend James,” b e implored, “ thy ; pertinacious persistence in persecuting me is annoying; thou must desist, or perad , venture I- may so far forget myself as to do thee some bodily harm;” “By snakes! I believe there is fight ; enough in Broadbrim to; make the affair interesting. I wish some of the boys ' were here to see the fun. Now, Friend Nathan, I am going to knock off the end of your nose; look out!” Suiting the action to: the word, Jim, af ter various, pugilistic gyrations with his fists, made a scientific blow at the nasal for mation of our Quaker friend ; but .Tom Hyer could hot more scientifically have warded it off. Jim was evidently disconcerted at the ill success of his first attempt; he saw he had undertaken quite as much as he was likely- to accomplish. : Jim, however straightened himself out, and approached Nathan more cautiously. ■ The contest be gan again Nathan stood; his ground firmly and warded off the shower of blows skil fully, which Jim aimed at him. “Friend James,” said Nathan in the heat of the contest, “ this is mere child’s play. It grieves me that thou hast forced me into resistance, but I must defend my self from bodily harm. I see there is but one way of bringing this wicked and scan dalous affair to a close, and that is by conquering thee; in order to do this I will .inflict a heavy blow between thine eyes, which will prostrate thee ” Following on the suggestion, Nathan struck Jim a | tremendous blow on his’forehead, which I brought nim senseless to the ground. “ Now,” said Nathan, “ I will teach thee a lesson, and I; hope it will be a wholesome lesson, too. I will- seat myself astraddle of thy breast; I will place my knees upon thy arms, thus, so that thou can not injure me when thou retumest to con ciousness. I hope I may be the humble instrument of taming thy fierce, warlike spirit and makihg a better and more res pectable-man of thee.” ; As the Quaker concluded, Jim began to show some signs of life, i: The first impulse of Jim, when he fairly saw his condition, was to turn Nathan off. He struggled desperately, but he was in a vice—his ef fort was unavailing. - “Friend, thou must keep still until ! am done with thee!” said Nathan. “T believe I am an humble instrument in the | hand of God to chastise thee, mid 1 trust when 1 am done with thee thou wilt be a I changed man. Friend; James dost thou ' not repent of attacking me t” “No,” said, James, ‘Get me up and I’ll show you.” “ I will not let thee up thou impious wretch,” replied Nathan; “darest thou profane the name of; thy Maker—l will punish thee for that—l will check thy respiration for a moment.”' f Nathan, as good as his word, clutched him by the throat. ! He compressed his grip, and a gurgling sound could be heard, Jim’s face became distorted; a terror ran through his frame.' He was evidently undergoing a process of strangulation.— The Quaker relaxed his hold, "but not un til the choking process; had sufficiently, as he thought, tamed the perverse spirit of Jim. It took some moments for Jim to inhale sufficient air to address the Quaker. “I’ll knock under,” said Jim; “enough, let me up.” “ No, thou hast not half enough,” re plied Nathan. “Thou; art now undergo ing a process of moral purification, and thou must be contented to remain where thou art until I am done with thee.— Thou just profaned thy Maker, friend James,” continued Nathan; “ confess, dost thou repqnt thy wickedness?” ; “No, hanged if I dojf growled Jim. “ Wilt thou not,” replied ,the Qiiaker, \ ■ • ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 24, 1862. “must I use compulsory means? I will impress thy windpipe again unless thou givestme an answer in the affirmative— say quick, art thou sorry?” “ No—l—y-e-s! shrieked Jim in gurg ling tone, as the Quaker’s grip tightened, “ yes, I am sorry ?” “Is thy sorrow a godly sorrow,” in quired Nathan. Jim rather demurred giving an affirma tive answer to this question, but a gentle squeeze admonished him he that had better yield. “Yes,” replied Jim; now let me up.” ‘‘l am not done with thee yet,” said Nathan. “Thou hast been a disturber of the peace of this neighborhood, time out of memory—thy hand has been raised against every man—-thou art a brawler. Wilt thou promise: me that in future thee will lead a more peaceable life—that thou will love thy neighbors as thyself?” “Yes,” answered Jim, hesitatingly, “ all but the Quakers.” “ Thou must make no exceptions,” re plied Nathan. ! *~ “ If I say yes to that—l’ll die first ” A struggle now ensued between "the two, but Jimhad bis match. _ “Thou must yield, James,” said Nathan “I insist on ilj,” and he again grasped Jim by the throat. “ I will choke thee into submission; thou must answer affirm atively ; say„aftcr me, * I promise to love my neighbors as myself, including the Quakers.’ ” “I promise that!” said Jim; I’ll be cursed if I do.” “ I will check thy respiration if thou don’t’, replied Nathan. “Wilt thou yield ?” “No, I Won’t, I’ll be blasted if I do,” answered Jim. “Thee had. better give in,” replied Na than ; “ I will choke thee again if thee does not —see, my grip tightens.” And Nathan did compress his grip, and the choking process went on. Jim’s face first became distorted, then purple—his tongue lolled out, and his eyes protruded their sockets—his body -writhed like a dy ing man’s. Nathan persisted in holding his grip until Jim became entirely passive, he then relaxed his hold. Jim was slow in recovering his speech and his senses; when he did, he begged Nathan, for mer cy’s sake to release him. “ When thee will take the promise I exact from thee, I will release thee, but no sooner,” replied Nathan. Jim saw that he was powerless and that the Quaker was resolute. He felt it was no use to persist in his stubbornness. “I will give in,” he replied “I will promise to love my neighbors as myself.” “Including the Quakers'?” insinuated Nathan. “Yes, including the Quakers,” replied Jim. “Thou mayest arise then, friend James, and I trust the lesson thou hast learned to-day will make a more peaceable citizen of thee, and I hope a better man.” Poor Jim was completely humbled ; he left the field with his spirit completely cowed. Not long after this occurrence the story became, bruited about. This was more than Jim could bear. He soon after left the scene of his many triumphs and his late defeat, and emigrated to the “far west.” The last I heard from him he was preparing to make another move. Being pressed for his reason why he again emi grated, he said a colony of Quakers were about moving into hia neighborhood. He was tinder an obligation to love them, but he was of the opinion that distance would lend strength:to his attachment. Old Abe’s Last Stohy. —An old friend from Springfield lately called to see the President. “Lincoln,” said he, “when you turned out j Cameron, why didn’t you turn out all the rest of your Cabinet?— “That,” said the President, “makes me think of something that took place near home, in Illinois. An old farmer had been pestered with a colony of skunks that depredated nightly on his poultry. He determined to be rid of them, and finally succeeded in getting them all in one hole, where he could kill them at his pleasure. He drew one forth by the tail, and execu ted him,” but, said he in telling the stoiy, “ this caused such an infernal stench that I wa# obliged tjo let the rest run.” Tub Poison of the Toad. —The most deadly poison | known to be used by the slave in Brazil, is that of the toad. The skin of this reptile contains glands which secrete in abupdance a milky, glutinous fluid when die toad is put to pain or irri-. tated. This is scraped off and dried. If produces incurable obstruction and en largement of tfle liver, and a speedy death. Some beat the toad with rods to make it secrete the venom; others place the crea ture in an earthen vessel over a slow fire. gar “Mother I shouldn’t be surprised if Susan gets: cho|ked some day.” “ Why, sou l!” “Because John Wipsy twisted his arms around her neck the other night, and if she had not kissed him to let her go, he would have strangled her.” [independent in evebything.] “I will skin you alive if you do that again,” exclaimed a mother to a naughty child. It was a sort of hyperbolical ex pression that has crept into frequent use, with the multitude of expressions of simi lar character. She did not mean that she would flay her little one as a butcher would a calf or lamb. 'Hie execution of her own tlireat would fill her own soul with horror. She would not have strength to make much progress in the very barba rous work of skinning her child alive.— It would not be motherly. “ I will whip you within an inch of your life,”, said a father to his erring son. This would be a terrible whipping indeed. Coming so hear death’s door with the rod would be revolting. But he did not mean this. He only meant he would adminis ter a very severe chastisement- No one would be more careful than he not to jeopardize the life of his son. His expres sion was only a form of exaggeration which society seems to tolerate. How many precisely such speeches are made in almost every circle. “It was done quick as lightning.” “Itis as cold as Greenland.” There is no end to such expressions. And they indicate that' the habit of exaggeration in the human family is very strong. Human natures seem in clined to “stretch the truth.” That is the reason that such strange stories are told, often becoming magnified to such an extent, after passing through several hands. “ A story loses nothing by traveling,” is an old saying. It usually grows, like a. ball which school-fellows roll. Every tongue that repeats it gives it additional turning-over, by which it accumulates.— None mean to exaggerate. It is a fault however, is it not? May it not be a sin ? It is entirely deceptive to tell a child that you will skin him alive, when you have no idea of perpetrating the infernal deed. Should we not talk as we mean? Lot our yea be yea and nay nay. At least this should be done to children. A Big Thing on the “ Hem Geakds.” —The war is prolific in humorous scenes as well as bloody honors- For instance, a brave volunteer is introduced by the fol lowing : liev. Mr. —, a man about six feet four in stockings, and of proportions worthy a granadier, and whose heart is as stout as Ids frame, a thorough Union man, and in for the war, until treason, is thoroughly crushed out, was recently conducting a re ligious meeting, when a brother arose to speak, who after alluding to his hopes and fears in a religious point of view, branched out in reference to the state of the coun try, saying that so great was his devotion to the Stars and Stripes, that he had en listed; and after a few further patriotic, remarks, begged an interest in the prayers of the church, that he might be protected by Divine Providence on the battle field, and if he should fall a victim to the bullets of the enemy, he might be prepared for the change. Such a speech at any time would thrill with patriotic fervor the brave heart of our worthy minister, and he consequently spoke in a few words of encouragement to the hero. When the wife of the en listing man volunteered her experience, in the course of which,' alluded to her hus , band’s enlistment, she expressed a willing ness to give him up, even unto death, in the service of his country. In a few moments after the meeting came to a close, when the minister, all anxiety for the welfare of the patriotic volunteers, proceeded to make some in quiries in reference to his regiment, com-, mencing with the very natural question as to its name and number, when he received the startling reply— “l’ve joined the Home. Guards." Flowers. —How the universal heart of man blesses flowers! They are wreathed round the cradle, the marriage altar, and the tomb. The Persian, in the far East delights in their perfume, and writes his love in nosegays, while the Indian child of the far West clasps his hands with glee as he gathers the abundant blossoms—[the il luminated scriptures of the prairiesj The Cupid of the ancient Hindus tipped ar rows with flowers, and orange flowers are a bridal crown with us, a nation of yes terday. Flowers garlanded Grecian altars and hung in votive wreaths before the Christian shrine. All these are appropri ate uses. Flowers should deck thb brow of the youthful bride, for they are in them slves a lovely type of marriage. I They should twine round the tomb, for there perpetually renewed beauty is a symbol of the resurrection. They should festoon the altar, for their fragrance and their beauty ascend in perpetual worship before the Most High. When the furious Orson saw his own image reflected from his brother’s, shield he startled back and stayed his blow; and many of our own attacks on our Mothers’ faults might be arrested, if there Were a mirror on his bosom, to show us ojir own likeness there. j HABIT OF EXAGEfiATIOH. SUBSTITUTES, A correspondent of the New Orleans Crescent, at Richmond, writes as follows j Our chief article of commerce; now-a days is commodity known in the market as The article has risen from $lOO to $2OO, again to $5OO, and from that to $lOOO and $l5OO. The cheapest kind now offering command? $5OO readily., A wretch named Hill has bejen making enormous sums, las much as from $BOOO to SSOOQ per day, by plundering substitutes, some of whom are the very scum of the earth,' while others ape pov erty stricken Marylanders of high social position at home, and men of real moral worth. A friend of mine bought a' substi tute from Hill for $5OO. He saw Hill give the poor devil $lOO and put the re- 1 maining $406 in his pocket, -ils my friend went out the door he met a gen tleman who told him he had just paid $l5OO for a substitute- Of tliis sum it is possible the substi tute received $2OO, and Hill the other $l3OO. To-day he went up Main street with at least fifty men at his heels. You may therefore infer that he coins money more rapidly than the Yankee distiller, Stearns, now in jail with Botts, who used to make $l6OO a day by furnishing his vile stuff to Southern soldiers. The fact is, this buying and selling substitutes is abominable all around. The men who cojne here from the country to buy them run mad until they get them—they are absolutely crazy with fear lest they should fail to obtain them —and seem willing to spend their last dollar in the effort. On the other hand, the exhibition of his per son, to which the substitute is subjected, is ridiculous and disgusting. He is stripped to the skin, percussed, ausculated,; exam ined from top to toe, like a horse showing off paces. A lovely business, truly! A Waggish “ Dkuggee.”—To hear George tell the drugger story is worth a quarter any time. The story is a capital one,'but it takes the man to tell it- This he does in some such words as these : “ Be you the drugger?” ' “Well, I s’posa so, I sell drugs.” “ Wall, hev you got eny uv this ’ere scentin as the gals put on their hanker cheers ?” “O, yes.” ' “ Wall, our Sal’s gwine to be married, and she gin me a ninepence, and told me to invest the hull ’mount in scentin stuff, so’s to make her sweet, ef I could find somethin to suit; so ef you’ve a mind; I’ll just smell around.” i The Yankee smelled around without be ing suited, until the “drugger” got tired of him, and taking down a bottle of harts horn, said: . . * “I’ve got scentin stuff that will suit you. A single drop on a handkerchief will stay for weeks, and yOu cannot wash it out. But to get the strength of it you must take a good big smell.” “Is that so, mister? Wall,jist hold on a minute till I get breath, and when I say now, you put it under my smeller,” The hartshorn, of course, knocked the Yankee down, as liquor has many a man. Do you suppose he got up and smelt again, as the drunkard does? not he, but rolling up liis fists, he said: “You made me smell that tarnal ever lasting .stuff, mister, and I’ll make you smell brimstone I” Affection.— We sometimes meet with men who think that any indulgence of af fectionate feeling is weakness. They will return from a jburney and greet their fam ilies with a distant dignity, and ipove among their children with the cold and lofty Sfflendor of an iceberg, surrounded with its broken fragments. There is hardly a more unnatural sight on earth than one of these families without a heart. A father had better extinguish his boy’s eyes than take away his heart. Who that has experienced the joys of friendship and values sympathy and affection, would not rather lose all that is beautiful in nature’s scenery than be robbed of the hidden treas ure of his heart? Who would not rather follow his child to the grave than to en tomb his parental affection? *Cherish, then, your heart’s best affections. Indulge in the warm and gushing emotions of fra ternal love. Think it pot a weariness.— Teach your children to love, to love the rose, the robin; to love their parents, their God. Let it be the studied object of their domestic culture to give them warm hearts, ardent affections. Bind your whole fam ily together by these strong cords. You cannot make them too strong. Maukiagf..-—“ I never,” says Mrs. Childs,' “saw ! a marriage expressly for money that did not end unhappily. 1 Yet managing mothers and heartless daughters are continually playing the same unlucky game.! I believe men more frequently marry lor love than money, because they have; free choice. lam afraid to conjee- j KT “ Sal,” said lisping Sam Snooks, “if ture how large a portion of woman parry | you don’t love me, thay tho; add if you only because they think they will inever love me, thay tho; andif you love meand have a better and dread becoming! don’t like to thay tho, thqeethe my hand.” dependent. Such marriages do sometimes | Sal put her hand upon her buestm, Sam, prove tolerably comfortable, but a greater j felt a gentle pressure of 'her Pother paw, number Would have been and was as happy he a poUy xcoggk. EDITORS AND proprietors. OBJECT TEACHHfO. It ia a well known feet, that during the period prior to five of age the toild does Littlcmore, iatelectually, than to ex ercise its senses upon the objectsabontit; or, in other words, to use its perceptive faculties in learning their form,color, sixe, weight, position, &o. During this period therchild is almost entirely occupied with the present Observe it in the street, in the field, in the shop, and about the house. How intently it looks, and listens, ami wonders; and how earnestly H desires to handle everything around it! The child observes constantly; such is its instinct of nature. By this process the development of the senses goes on- rapidly, so that by the time when the child comes to begin its school education, it has acquired con siderable skill in the exercise of its senses, and also obtained much knowledge of things through the exercise. ' Now, the object of the teacher, as he or she receives the child into the school, should be to: continue the work which na ture has so well began in developing the senses, with a view to increasing their acuteness and powers, and to give habits of accurate and minute observation; alto to evercise its perceptive faculties upon the various properties and qualities of things so that they may furraish materials for thought. —Connecticut Common School Jour nal. . .. Piunteks. —By the way, says a writer in The Philadelphia Press, it is right for printers to ..know that for awhile until a recent period, actors were legally desig nated “vagabonds” in England. A stat ute’ passed in the reign of Queen Anne dis tinctly declares that .printers, like attor neys, are gentlemen t The distinction arose in this wise : \VTien swords formed a part of genteel attire, they were worn by many who neither by birth, education nor calling, were’‘entitled to be considered gentlemen. To place the matter out of dispute, an act of Parliament was passed, in which was set forth the various classes authoized to wear swords or rapiers, as a part of their costumes, and in this statute printers are expressly named as entitled to what at that period was considered a priv ilege. The word “printer,” in Queen Annie’s time, meant a compositor who out of a chaos of type, put men’s thoughts into the form which preserves them, if worthy, for the future as the present. Advantages of Buying Goods on a Credit.— We never understood, the ad vantage of the credit system till .we got the following story from a Wisconsin con tributor : In one of the interior villages of this State is a tavern-keeper, and in the same place an honest old German .blacksmith, of whom the former relates that he employed him to do some iron work, and paid him cash for it at the time, but afterward learning that a neighbor had some similar work done on time for a less price, he in quired the reason therefore, and the reply was as follows; “Tou zee I ’ave zb much scharge on my book, and I sometimes lose uni] and zo ven I ’ave got a cash customer I scharge goot price, but ven I puts it on my book I do not like to scharge zo much, zo if he never pay min, I no lose zo much.”—Har per’s Monthly. Splitting Haibs.— — Two Ohio lawyers got into a warm dispute in court, when one called the other a prevaricating, dou ble dealing wretch. The latter replied as follows: “ I will not take notice of personal lan guage here. We will settle that by and by outside. I will discuss law, chop logic or split hairs with you in court—that's all.” “Ifyon will split hairs, split that,” said the opposing lawyer, puffing a hair from his head and handing it toward the speaker. “I can’t do it—didn’t offer to split bristles,” was the reply. Everybody in court laughed out loud, of course. " . Good Lvck. —Some young men’ talk about luck. Good luck is to get up at six o’clock in the morning: good luck, if yon had only a shilling a week, is to live upon elevenpence and save a penny; good luck is to trouble your heads with your own busi ness, and let your neighbors alone; good luck is to fulfil the commandments, and do unto other people as we wish' them to do unto us. They must not only plod but persevere. Pence must be taken care of because they are the seeds bf guineas.— To get on in the world, they must take care of home, sweep their own doorway clean, try and help other people, avoid temptations, and have faith and tenth and God. —De Faire's Lecture. - ' NO. 12.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers