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•m of Altoona and Tfctoltjm»t h,
arn inTotcee of ' ;
ECXiONAKIXfI, KUTB, HPJCBB
w 4s_ Moron! jr for Uu Holidays
WiJ» ootutndm good •t«i“pUi, 1
lUNES, RAISINS, AC.
Muon* of the you, '
sßgar, Molasses, Bitter,
WHITE WHEAT FLOUR.
FMH3R, COR* JUSAi, 40,
r «te In lar** or mail qu» D «Ua.
prf» mj rtock and ytyurUl find
* «lij ta tovo.
r QUESTION WHICH
«: mlnil of erwy perao*
A» l«Brt artlcto in- adjH
T*to «««, bat If job •■jj^^
Idn. of hi* *tock and work,
d an uwrtmant ofßooO,Sh'H
'he offer* at &lr price*. '
WtontoctHtom work, alio
A Virginia utreet, intMdUtri
IfftFr. ; ..-ft
, JOHN H. EOBEB|fi.
io. 7, MAIN STREET.
*KS, BLANK BOOKS,
r CONNECTION ASES
SILT OS BAND.
ot Crime u>d Crimlmba in
■k widely ctreoUted ardßjhoot
to all toe Onto Xrieto.Otlniul
aitori»l«on tbeeatM, iojptba with
r TtHStni, not to be ftaull Ui «n j
(wr unom; tor oixinowb*, to
aS, (who (boold writ* a#hi»uw<
JO Or W. MArtjBLI. tJ&y.
hot Xmr Totk PoKor Gnrato,
RISER WOULD IN
of Attoopn mod Tlateltyttet hi*
r tad FRUIT
whlchbe winrarro nJtblBWK*
t ratoon. f
sad orastdnafs *»'*•*
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i ibecome DlwodW -»y™
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PERN INSIJBA«G B
L ■ PKOFRWTO
UcCKIJM & DEKN,
THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE.
, lroauM H. C. DBRN,
. r , o nom.(p»y»blelnT*ri»bly in ndTnnee,>&....
Al [“p Cr , .li.coutinued »t the expiration .f the lime
TKKM* OF. 4DTMTISUW
-1 inaertiOQ 2 do. 3 do.
t,„.r li»« “ * : sl OO
...1 00 1 60 i 200
T«« ; •• i... 150 200 280
three week, and lea* than three month., 25 cent.
~,-r square tor e»ch # month*. I year.
sl 60 *3 00 *5 00
six mir. or 2 60 4 00 7 00
One square, j M 600 ■lO 00
T»» ‘‘ Z". 600 800 il2 00
three »• . 600 . 10 00 I;14 00
t’uur " 14 00 20 00
Halt a column M 00 26 00 40 00
"2~^" ess 's : •»
-uaracter or individual in
..rest -ill^ c n h * r^ XS inaer
tiom de'Swiil be continued till forbid and charged ae
I BALTIMORE LOCK HOSPITAL _
ESTABLISHED AS a RKFDGEfKOM QUACKERY •
Xhe Only Place Where a Gore Gan
be Obtained* j .
r\U. JOHNSON has discovered the
II most Certain, Speedy and only Effectual
thTn-orld for all Private Diseases, Weakness of the Baek
„ r Limbs, Strictures, Affections of the Kidneys and Biad
i,r involuntary Discharges, Impotency, General Debility,
trvo JsnMslDyspepsy. Languor, Low Spirits Confusion
Of Idew PalpiUtiorof the Heart, Timidity, Tremblings.
Dima “s’ of Sight or Giddiness, Disease of the' Head.
Throat, Nose or Skin, Affections of the Liver, Lnogs, Slota-
Lh m Bowels-those Terrible disorders arising from the
‘olitaryilabita of Youth-those BkCRH and “htary prac
tices more fatal to their victims than the song of Syfeus to
the * Mariners of Ulysses, blighting their most brilliant
hopes or anticipations, rendering marriage. Ac., Impossi
Fmeciallv. who have become the victims of Solitary • ice.
tiut dreadful and deetuctive habit which annually tweepe
t., an untimely grave thousands of Young Men of the moat
i ihalled talents and brilliant intellect, who might other
wise have entranced listening Senates with the thunders
uf eloquence, or waked to eclasy the living lyre, may call
with fall confidence. _ ,
1 X ' x • .
Married Persons, or Young Men cotemplatinp marriage,
being aware of physical weakness, organic debility.‘fafor
mitv, speedily cured. • , _ _ l .
He who places himaett under the care of Dr. J. may re
liciou*lv confide inhis honor as a gentleman, and confi
dently fclv upon hlssklll.as;a physician.
1 tiimtsiUiely Cured, and full Vigor Restored. -
This Distressing Affection—which renders Life miserable
and marriage impossible—is the penalty paid by the
victims of improper indulgences. Young persons are to
£pt to commit excesses from not being awaie of the dread
ful consequences that may ensue,. Now, who that under
stands the subject will pretend to deny that the power of
procreation is lost sooner by those falling into improper
habits than by the prudent > Besides ’being deprived the
pleasures of healthy offspring, the most de
structive symptom? to both holy and mind arise. The
system becomes Deranged, the Physical and Mental Func
lions Weakened. Los* of Procreative Power, Nervous Irri*
lability, Dyspepsl*. Palpitation of the Heart. Indigestion,
Constitutional Debility, a Wasting of the Fnune, ; Cough,
Consumption, Decay and Death.
OFFICE. NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET.
Lefr hand aide going from Baltimore street, a fa* doors
from the corner. Fail not to*observe name and numWr.
Letters must be paid and contain a stamp. The Do
lor’s Diplomas bang in his office
A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS.
Mo Mercury or Nuseont Drug*.
Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, London, Grad
uate from one oj the most eminent Colleges in the. United
Sutea.and the greater part of whose Hie has been: spent in
the hospitals of London, Paris, Philadelphia and else
where, has effected some of the most astonishing cores
that were ever known; many troubled with ringing ip the
head and ears when asleep, great nervousness, being
alarmed at sudden sounds, baahtalness, with frequent
blushing, attended sometimes with derangement of mind,
were cored immediately.
TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE.
Dr. J. addresses all those who have Injured themselves
by improper indulgence and solitary habits, which min
both body and mind, unfitting them for either business,
study, society or marriage.
Tam are some of the sad and melancholy effects pro
duced py early habits of youth, viz: Weakness of the
Back and Limbs, Pains iu the Head, Dimness nf Sight,
Loss of Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart, Dys
p*psy, Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Diges
tive Functions, General Debility, Symptoms of Consump
tkm. Ac. ,
WurTiiLT.—The fearful effects of the mind are: much to
he dreaded—Loss of Memory, Coafnaion of Ideas, De
pression of spirits, Bell-Forebodings, Aversion to Society,
Self-Distrust, LoveofSolitude, Timidity, Ac., are some of
the etil* produced.
Thousasm of nervous of all ages-can now judge what is
the cause' of their declining health, losing their vigor, be
coming weak, pale, nervous and emaciated, having a sin
gular appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of
Who have injured themselves by a certain practice in
dulged in when alone, a habit frequently learned from
evil companions, or at school, the tSects of which are
nightly felt, eren when asleep, and U not cured renders
marriage. fmposihle, and deitroji bott mind&nd body,
should apply immediately.' ;
What a pity that a young man, the hope of bis country,
the darting of his parent®, should be snatched from all
prospects and enjoyments of ilfe, by the consequence of
deriaUng from the path of nature, and indulging iu a
certain secret habit. Such persons HOTT, before contem
reflect that a sound mind and body are the moat necessary
requisite* to promote connubial happiness. lowed, with
out these, the Journey through Ufr becomes a .weary pil
grimage; the prospect hourly darkens to the view; the
mind becomes shadowed'with despair and Ailed with the
melancholy reflection that the happiness ot another be
comes blighted with oar own.
DISEASE or imprudence; ,
When the misguided and imprudent rotary of pleasure
Hods that be has imbibed the seeds of this painful dis
ease, it too often happens that an ill-timed sense of shame,
or dread of discovery, deters him from applying to those
who, from education and respectability, can; alone be
friend him, delaying till the constitutional symptoms of
this horrid disease make their appearance, such as ulcera
ted sore throat, diseased nosey nocturnal pain s in the head
and limbs, dimness of sight, deafhess, nodes ob the shin
boue* and arms, blotches on the bead, Ikcc and extremi
ty, progressing with frightful rapidity, till at last the.
pslatf of the mouth or the bones of the nose fall in, and*
the Tktlm of this awful disease becomes a horrid object of
commiseration, till death puts a period to his dreadful
* uttering*, by sending him to 44 that Undiscovered Country
frt»nf>rßence no traveller returns,”
It is a nelattchotf fact that thousands fall victims to
this terrible disease, owing to the unskillfnlness of igno-
r »nt pretenders, who, by the use of that Deadly Poison*
Jfrrcury, ruin the'constitution and make the residua of
1 ife miserable. s '
‘rust notyoar lifts,or health to the care of the many
Colearned and Wottfalees Pretenders, destitute of knowl*
*d?e t same or character, who .copy Dr. Johnston’s adver
tisement*, or stylo themselves, to the newspapers, rega
lly Educated Physicians, incapable of Coring, they keep
you trifling month after month, taking their filthy and
poisonous compounds, og ms long as the smallest fee can
be obtained, and in despair, leave yon with ruined health
t > siglruver your galling disappointment.
Dr. Johnston is the only Physician advertising.
Hi* credential or diplomas always hang in his office.
HU remedies or treatment are nnknown to ail others,
prepared from a life spent In the great hospitals of Europe,
the first in the country and a more extensive Private Prat
w than any other Physician in the world.
INDORSEMENT OF THE PRESS.
- The many thousands cured at this institution, year after
rear, and the numerous important Surgical operations
performed by Johnston, witnessed by the reporters of the
**Jnn,” Clipper,” and many other papers, notices of
which have appeared again and again before: the public,
besides his standing jw n gentlemen of character and re
sponsibility, is a sufficient guarantee totbe afflkted.
SKIN DISEASES SPEEDILY CURED.
.No letter* received unless post-paid and containing a
•tamp to be used on the reply persons writing should state
•ge and send portion of advertisement dascribingaymptoms.
* ..writing sfaonld be particular in directing their
letters to this.lnstitution, to tW following’manner:
* JOHN M. JOHNSTON. M. D„
Of the Baltimore lock Hospital, MirrUnd.
SCHOOL OF THE OLPEM TIME.
The ecboola—the acboole of other days 1
Thaw were the Kittle for me,
When, in a track end lroueere dreaaed,
I learnedmj ABC.
When, with my dinner in my h*t,
1 trudged *w*y to eebooU
Nor dared I atop, m toys do sow.
For ecboohzsn’nih bad a ecxe.
And if a traveler we met.
We threw no atkke sor stones,
' To fright the hones as they passed,
Or break good people’s bones.
Bat with oar hats beneath oar arms.
We oar beads fall low,
Foe ne’er the achodbma’am foiled to ask,
M Boys, did yoa make a bow ?”
And all the little girls with as
Would courtesy fall low,
And hide their ankles with tlteir gowns—
Girls dont have Ancles now.
We stole no fruit, nor tied the gross.
We played no noisy games.
And when we spoke to older folks.
Put handles to thus maxes.
And when the boor of school had come.
Of bell we had no heed,
The achool-ma’am’a yap upon the glass,
Each one would quickly heed.
That school-ma'am! Heaven bless her name!
When shall we meet her like *
She always wore a green calash. .
A calico vandyke.! •.
She never sported pantaletts;
No silks on her did rustle;
Her dress hang gracefully around—
She never wore a Beam!
With modest mein and loving heart.
Her dally task was done,
As true as needle to the pole.
The next one was begun.
The days were all alike to her.
The evenings just the same,
And neither brongbt a change to us.
TUI Saturday forenoon came.
And then we had a match.**
And learned the sound of A,
The months and weeks that made the year.
The hours that made the day.
And on that day we saw her smile—
No other time stniler she:
’Twas then she told us learnedly
When next-**leap year” would be.
Alas! kind soul! though leap year came
And went full many a time.
In ‘'single blessedness” she toiled,
TUI far beyond her prime.
Bnt now, indeed, her toils are o'er,
Her lessons are all said.
Her rules well learned—her words all spelled,
She’S GONE UP TO THX UZAD.
THE SOBEOWB OF A MAH WHO
WAS BOBH TO BE HUH 6.
.While playing at Baltimore, Dan Mar
ble fell in with a gentleman who had for
merly been a merchant, and a man of con
sequence in the mercantile community.—
His fortunes had fallen in the “sere and
and yellow leaf ;” a circumstance briefly
alluded to in the works of Wm. Shak
speare. Esq., a literary gentleman, now
long since deceased. The person was quite
a character, if his credit was below par
and his “moral grandeur” oh a very limited
scale. In short, :at the time Dan picked
him up, the man was engaged in a species
of practical chemistry, vulgarly known as
mixing toddy, and faro bank.
Dan met him one monßg, in an un
common mood of double-breasted bines,
and invited him to take a drink at the bar
of an establishment where they chanced to
meet, and, to the comedian’s astonishment,
the man actually refused
“ Come along up—what’re you-about ?”
“ Can’t do it, Mr. Marble; much bbliged,
but excuse me.”
“Why, what oii airth ails you? You
look as if you had lost a three year old
colt or a patch of pumpkins. Come.”
The man gave in, took a nipper, and
then taking Dan gingerly by the shoulder,
advanced a few feet from the bar, and in
a desponding tone of voice, says:
“Mr. Marble, you’ve traveled a great
deal, seen a good many ups and downs, but
was you ever drowned?”
“Well,” says Dan, as nobody but him
self could have said it, “ I hain’t, just at
this moment, any particular recollection of
having gone that far—-by water.”
“Was you ever saved from drowndin ?”
continued the melacholy man.
“ Physical demonstration kind of argues
in favor of such a conclusion,” says Dan.
“I have been.saved from drowning.”
“ Then, Mr. Marble, you may be able
to appreciate my unfortunate position. I
.was saved from drowndin,”
“Glad of it. Wasn’t you?
“Glad? glad? Sfo, sir! I lost thirty
thousand dollars by it.” •
“ The dickens you did!” responded Dan,
“Itis a lamentable fact, sir. Sit down,
Mr. Marble. I know your time is valua
ble ; I wont detain you long.”
“Don’t, if you please,” echoed Dan,
smelling a long yarn.
“I shan’t sir ; a few words will do.—
Suppose we drink.” :
“Go ahead. A glass of sherry,” says
“Gin and bitters,” says the melancholy
•man. “My respects, Mr. Marble,”
ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 1862.
“ The same,” says Dan. “ Now let her
“ Well, Mr. Marble, in . 1881 I was
worth thirty thousand dollars. 1 didn’t
owe a red cent in the world. One day,
sir, 1 went down to the basin to see a friend
off to Norfolk.
“Good bye,” says I. ' “Take care of
“ Good bye,” says he.
“ But no sooner had I got ‘ take care of
yourself? out of my mouth, than down I
went heels over stomach, off* the wheel
house on to the wharf—backward into a
wheelbarrow—that- tilted, into, the dock,
and my first recollection after what was a
sensation as though I had been converted
into a pin cushion, and forty women jab
bin’ in the pins.
; “1 smelt a hot stove, red flannel, and
apple jack. I heard a jumble of voices.
“ Rub away. He’s coming to.”
“ Tain’t no use. He’s a goner. Burnt
brandy won’t save him.”
“Send for the doctor.”
“ Coroner, you mean.”
“ What’s in his pockets?”
“ Take care of his watch, gentlemen.”
“That part of the conversation,” says
Dan, “sort of revived you, I reckon.”
“Mr. Marble,” replied the narrator,
putting his hand emphatically upon the
comedian’s shoulder—“ Mr. Marble, that
brought me to.”
“ Where am I?” says I.
“ In my shop,” says somebody.
“What’s the matter?” says I.
| “1 saved you; me—l’m the man!”
! shouts the fellow.
“And then, as I felt for my pocketbook
and watch, I found I was damp—wet as a
“Fell overboard, by thunder!” says I.
j “Well you did, and no mistake,,” says
i the fellow. “ I pulletf you out, or you’d
i been crab bait afore now.”
! “ Call a carriage, if you please,” says I,
| tossing up about two gallons of pure Ches
j apeake. Call a hack.”
“I’ve got a small bill agin you my
| friend,” says the shopkeeper. “ They have
| used a gallon of my sperets in fetching
i you to.”
“ I paid the man a dollar
“Then says some fellow standing by
' “ Mister, I spose you’ll treat the crowd
for rubbing at you, and a rolling out the
“ I invited the whole party up to drink,
and handed around the cigars and crackers.
“ I then called again for a carriage.
“ I went for the doctor, Mister. Of
course you’ll gin a fellow something for
going for the doctor,” said another blood
“•I gave the rascal a dollar.
“ Now,” says I, “ for God’s sake bring
me a carriage.
“ I was edging through the crowd
towards the door, when a nigger got before
me, hat in hand.
“ Boas, you broke dis child’s barrow all
to pieces. Guy, must hab a quarter or
free lebeh penny bits for mend dae, shuah!”
“ I didn’t kill the nigger, but gave him
half a dollar, and rushed, for the door.—
The carriage drove up—a doctor’s gig at
the same time.
“ Stop sir,” says the doctor; “ 1 shall
charge you for coming here.*
“ Charge/ and be— —!” says I jumping
into the hack.
“Insolent puppy!” says the doctor, “ I’ll
make you smart for this before you are a
“Dp if you please,” I shouted, as the
haokman drove off.
“ For some minutes I was unconscious
of all around me, even the wet and brazen
fellow by my side; but who did not long
allow me to repose in such happy oblivion
—rot |and blast him.
“What a cussed set of blood suckers
they were,” says he.
“IJmph!” says I, not exactly knowing
whethier I was a dead or living man.
“ Them fellows down at the shop,” he
continued; “ I pulled you out.”
“What do you want here? What are
you following me for*” I gasped, almost
tempted to jump out at the window of the
“Well,” he replied, “I’m a poor man
—got dreadful wet—almost lost my life—
me, I saved y®n.”
“ I heard no more—my lifeless body
was taken out of the hade into my lodg
ings.; When I came to, there stood the
fellow, telling my friends how I fell in
like double distilled thunder it fell upon
“Me, I saved him.” I again elapsed
into |a spasm. I was sickly and fast in
my bed for twelve long months. My busi
ness was neglected—my friends paid the
fellow who ‘saved me’ handsomely—the
doctor prosecuted me—my friends com
bated him—and when I got out of my bed
1 1 whs a ruined man.
i “ Yes, Mr. Marble, 1 was a ruined man
j —involved —in feeble health and beset by
j a fiend. For, sir, I had no sooner got
| about, than 1 met—met—blast him, he
J froze to me—dogged me like a shadow,
; and wherever I went, morning, noon and
I night, he bawled into my ear:
i “ Me, I saved yon!”
fINDEPENDENT IK EVERYTHING.]
“1 tried to dose up my affairs and dear
out. Couldn’t do it; and between you
and I, Mr. Marble, I took faro for diver
sion, qnd gin and Utters to keep my spirits
from deserting me.” :
“ Well,” says Dan, “is the fellow still
I hope not—wouldn’t for fifty dollars
see him again. He stole a nigger a year
ago, was caught, and 1 heard no more
from him. I was becoming tranquilized
and happy, when I, learned, last night,
that my ghost was seen sneaking around
town again.” ,
They parted, and Dan saw no more of
his haunted friend; and about a year after
this occurrence, while in the city of Mem
phis, Tenn., J)an heard of the ex-merchant.
He had emigrated from Baltimore to es
cape the fellow who had ‘ saved him,’ went
to Kentucky, and was hung for a fellow
gambler. Just before leaving, he called
out in a loud voice:.
"‘Let me go—don’t anybody save me!”
and he went.
A Young Man’s Fiest Lesson. —Tim-
othy Titcomb is guilty of ottering many
very blunt truths, and here is one from
his letters to the young.
“I take it that the first great lesson a
young man has to team is that he is an I
ass. The earlier this lesson is learned,
the better it will be; for his peace of mind
and his- success in life. Some never learn I
it, and descend into the evening of their
existence, their ears lengthening with
shadows as they go. Some learn it early,
get their ears cropped and say nothing I
about it; while others sensibly retire into
modest employments, where they will not 1
be noticed. A young man reared at home I
and growing in the light of parental ad- I
miration and paternal pride cannot under
stand how any man can be as smart as he
is. He goes to town, puts on airs and
gets snubbed, and wonders what it means;
gets into society and finds himself tongue
tied ; undertakes to Speak in a debating
club, and breaks down or gets laughed at;
pays attention to a nice young woman,
and finds a very large mitten on his hands,
and in a state of mind bordering on dis
traction, sits down to reason about it.—
| This is the critical period of his history.
The result of this reasoning decides his
fate. If he thoroughly comprehends the
fact that he does not know anything, and
accepts the conviction that all the world
around him knows more than he does, that
he is but a cipher, and whatever he gets
must be won by hard work, there is hope
Got Moke than its Share. —An Irish-1
man employed on a farm, was told by the 1
farmer that one of his duties would be to 1
feed the chickens. This he did daily; but
he observed, with much concern, that I
when he gave them their corn-meal pud- 1
ding, an old drake that was among the |
flock shoveled it in with his broad bill I
much faster than the chickens could do. I
At last an idea struck him. One evening,
as usual, while Pat was distributing pud
ding to the fowls, be commenced soliloqui
zing in the following manner: “Arrah, I
bedad, an’ here ye are agen, ye devilish
spoonbill quadruped; ye lay under the
Bam all day; and when I say chi-ky, chi
ky, be St. Patrick, ye are the firet one
here, and ye pick up three mouthaful all
in one, and now, be yabers, an’ I’ll fix ye
for that, an’ so I will Sure enough, Pat
called the drake close to him, and made a
grab and nabbed him. “ An’ it’s welcome
ye are blast yer ugly picter; when Pm done
ye’ll not pick upi more than yer share.’?
With that Pat got out his knife and trim
med the drake’s bill off sharp and slim,
like a chicken’s, apd thou exultingly threw
him down, saying, “Now, be jabers, ye
can pick up the feed ’long side the bob
tail rooster.” 1
It is Dark.— -The following beautiful
sentiment is taken from “Meister Earl’s
Sketch Book,” entitled “ The Night of
Heaven.” It is full of touching tender
“It is dark when the honest and honor
able man sees the result of long years
swept cruelly away by the knavish, heart
less adversary. It is dark when he feels
the clouds of sorrow gather around, and
knows that toe hopes and happiness of
others are fading with his own. -But in
that hour toe memory of past integrity
will be a true consolation, and assure him,*
even here on earth, of gleams of light in
“ It is dark when the dear voice of that
sweet child, once so fondly loved, is no
more heard around in murimirs. Dark
when toe light, pattering feet no more re
sound without toe threshold, or ascend,
step by step, toe stair. Dark, when some
well known melody recalls the strain once
oft attuned by the childish voice now
hushed in death 2 . Darkness, indeed; but
only toe gloom which herald toe day spring
of immortality and the infinite lights of
, ! «"A common arm-chair is a more com
fortable seat than a throne, and a soft
beaver hat. a lighter and more pleasant
piece of head-gear than a mown.
THE AST OF JOT HEABDTO. OU> WttM WKIIV HHn-
The art of not hearing should betaught . -j-;,->■■• t
in every well-regulated family. It is fully Some clear headed, mischievous chap
as important to domestic happiness as a goto off the following quaint definitkme in
cultivated eat, for which so touch money which there is considerable more truth
and time are expended. There are iso than poetry:
many things which it is paintd to hear, Water— 4. clear fluid, once usedas a
many of which we ought not tii hear, very drink.
many which if heard will disturb the tern- Honesty—An excellent joke,
per, corrupt simplicity and modesty, de- Kural Felicity—Potatoes and turnips,
tract from contentment and happiness— Tongue— : A little horse which is always
that every one should be educated to take running away.
in or shut out sounds, according to their Dentist—-A person who finds work for
pleasure. his own teeth by taking out those of other
If a man falls into a violent passion and people,
calls me all manner of names, toe first My Dear-—An expression, used by man
word shuts my ear and I hear no store.— and wife at the commencement of quar-
If, in my quiet voyage of life, 1 fitfl my- rel&
self caught in one of those domestic Vhirl- Policeman—A man hired by tbqcorpo
winds of scolding, I shut my ears, as a ration to sleep in the open air,
sailor would furl his sails, and, makitg fdl Bwpuifc—A, likEctous transaction, in
tight, scud before the gale. If a hot and which 1 eadn pafty tiunks he cheat# the
restless man begins to inflame my feehogs, other.
I consider what mischief these sparks might Doctoiv—A man who kills yon to-day
do in the magazine below, where my tun- to save your life to-morrow,
per is kept, and instantly dose the door Author—A dealer in words, who often
Does a gadding, mischief-making feUovy gets paid in his own oojtn.
begin to inform me what people are sayjn* Friend—A person tfho will not aarnst
about me, down drops the portcullis' of you because he knows Tjyonr love will eft
my ear, and he cannot get in any farther* cuse -him.
Does the collector of neighborhood scandal Editor—A poor chap who empties his
task my ear as a warehouse, it instinctive!* brain, in to fill Ifia stomach,
shuts up. Some people feel very aanoii Wealth—The most respectable quality
to hear everything that will vex and anf n f /.
noy them. If it is hinted that any on* Bonnet—A female head drees for front
has spoken ill of them, they t set about geats at ifee opera.
searching the matter and finding out. If Critio—A bad dog that goes unchained
all the petty things said of one by heed*, and barks at everything be does not com
less or ill-natufed idlers were to be prebend.
home to - him, he would become a m#fl £squire—Everybody, yet nobody, the
walking pin-cushion, stuck full of sharp i* equal to Colonel.
marks. I should as soon thank a man fo Jmy—Twelve prisoners in a box to try
emptying on my bed a bushel of one at thebar.
sctting loose a swarm of mosquitoes in 115 State’s evidence—A wretch who gets a
chamber, or raising a pungent dust in m] pogdhn for being feasor than his comrades
house generally, as to bring upon me al Abuse—Hie rand with which
the tattle ofi careless or spitefiil peopfe— m BpatteredQn the to
If you would be happy, when among got destruction
men open your ears; whenampngbd, .Modesty— Abeautifal flower that fionr
shut them. And as the throat has a ms- secret places,
cular arrangement by which it takes <ire learned gentleman who res
of the air-passage of its own ac<mrd,sobe cues y our from tout enemy and
ear should be trained to an automatical- himself.
ness of hearing. It is not worth whiUo Grave—An ugly hole in the earth,
hear what your servants say when thcyre lovers and poets wish they were in
angry; what your children say after ty but keep ou t of.
have slammed the door; what a bejar | „ ~ .„„ ..,
says whom you have rejected .. 5
. J . 3 . ~ ■* a his head, who stalks about the stage and
door; what your neighbors say about ?ur passion for sdmiich a
children 5 what your rivals say about pui a temwe passion tor so mucn a
business or dress. . -Tke gate through which an
This art of not bearing, though no ® 4 .
- . , • . „ ’„ m enchanted lover leaves the blissful region
taught in the is by np meansun to earth. -
S 0^, u °P ractl “f nS »«to-An impudent feUow who visits
noticed that a jell-bred without
SSdeafaess sa^o^S^^f^ 0 ? 01 * *■**«««•***■
many insults, from much bfeme, from nott ConcerQg that the w
There are two doors inside my ears, a Lj
door leading heart, and
a left-hand door, with a broad and lirS
passage, leading out into theppen an.—
The last door mi P ro ' a Mend through the
save young urchins a world of trouble by; _ . '
a convenient deafiiess. Bankers k“H l *! a& —Wufeont
kers are extremely hard .of h< *
unsafe bortowers are importuna. ~* e 1 “^7,
hear a man who runs after mr and lMignio,
bawling my name at the top
nor those who talk evil pf th» BWn
absent, nor those who giveme,
vice about my own affairs; nor ?
“ bo »‘^
of love, open fly my ears! Ba\
harshness, or hatred, or vulgaru ’v~
tery, shuts them. Ifyou keei
den-gate shut, your flowers t f
be safe. If you keep your dopi kS*
thief will run off with your silver; and ifMi The periods of foe
you keep your ears shut, your heart willWaptod to are.eariy m morn-
said a neighbor who stepped into the housetttion, every part toe bodyw fteeflwtore
of toe fomer, just as in toe aettotort, while
of seating herself at the! table. <*** m act
von heard of that dreadful accident?” free cmstortiottu pra^-
7 “ Why no—what is Mto waßonfr nfog <m ****<% is
“Mr. Briggs has faUen from hia wagonto? <” ” t^rf* l ' L
»nrl ifl killed ” Many other species of exercise may be oon
“Is it possible ? Well just wait till to *
have finished my dinner and then yoii’llj* B^
New Jail. — The GrandJuryin the t— - -j.; '
count; of Tipperary, Ireland, have passed Ak Htnoap lit*®.—A ,pb« pittance of
the following resolutions : jseyoaty;ean» is not worth being a yjllain
Resolved, that the presentjiail is insum for. What inatiCT is it if ybur
dent, and that anotherought to bebuilj Uesina splendid tomb!
Resolved, that the materials of the W 1 innooeno*.
jail be employed in constructing the nf |nack oftimel A
■one. . V : i, I w«pt|ied ffith
Resolved, that the old jatl shall dot te atdt ftom ■
taken down until the new due is Ihidi, m ptntjt loaye thorp and
*■ ' iuce to "fiy
t*-“I am a great gun,” said/a t%
printer, who had been on a rape firth ]
week. “ Tee,” eoidtbe foreman/** you’re
a great goD, and half eoofcod, an< yoo cat
cqnaider yonraeif daojbt|fge|fc£ J'*tWA H
said Typo, “ then I had bett« <&” /
Vibe grave, every rpogwot iabigirilb events
not inenooeeeion, hut backing
ifofciMy, from »': tMfbnm tadunlawwn
dyer lb»* oiwl «*■
V-i. V ■*' *