r t BOOK MAITOPAeitiKY trfa St , ffa*riikitrj tt j*a ' HrßH&g: Scientific American, ratagS”* mbataattal half iBM, Cu>phlet lawe, prloeo. PerS^JSS** 1 t to bind, will recoin 1 TllurttiSSr f be mt to at Iron rk aatraeted to ourcare wfll It packed and r.t P en»l i Address F. h. mSSBE Bkrrii iMfgfa OBBN, at the Tribtme end Ticinity. They binding, end recoin ajttntonwT Lfares, for all who eni.attt£«aAt' CO £ * * wf 5 « 1 fa § ■ .5 4 I oi2 j| * -**m \ m . sa ■ KtJ JOS n f PQ „ S» 2 <f.«} f ” s ■*« ; a I \ § s , B§|4 i g |ial| I os <lsosi f gapp r sill f olfll si j//t; > JS © a m ■ IY AND BAKEBY! DERSIGNED ANNOUN ttiena of Altoona and Ticioitrthat hr a Urge invoice* of FBCTIONABIKS, NUTS, BPICEB Idren Ac, expreaaly for tboßoWni. > always os hasd a good stock of plain hk ovn maonfactnra. PRUNES, RAISINS, AC, allleeeone of tile year. Sugar, Molasses, Batyr. > WHITE WHEATfLOVS. ,T CLOUR, CORN MEAL, AC, 1 for sale in large or small qsastities. id price my stock andfonistfl fax! >p os any is town. JAOOB WISE. iat question which t the mind of every set the best article jdto other matters, the ; aUeraptto direct, but if the Une of . " rs OR SHOES examination of Ms stock and wack. Dtlvonhand an assortment Ac., which he offers at (air pSipM. pecial attention to custom wthk, alio sauted to give satisfaction, ffoawh&t th f employed' itcjp Is on Virginia street, immediate) Stag Store Vtf} JOHN H. EOBJDU6 FETTINGJEE’S ,1 JS r ews kgm&j, No. 7, MAIN BTBRET BOOKS, BLAKKBOQKS, BY, CONFECTIOHAMJSS jtS & TOBACCO, OTIONS IN GREAT VARIETY (STANTLT ON HAND. LL POLICE GASSSHPE - Joorari of Crime •» iiri U widal, j ■htaiiM *n the OniTtli^Om - Witorieteoß tto»om*Si<a« r » ilb J Mnel Mettete, not tobetmtipw rop'rof Hew JTSTEB sai&s& ISCRIB&R WOOTiD iaetxM <tf Alteon* w 4 !, RUT uid t-ry beat articlas mu'. -. ;,v ‘:V\ PER SALMON re, to Ahicb pTBWIL Dgtheeeteoa. ; > bread n ejataabßr*** l ** l are tad taloon toonVfrgtoto*j|*|*^j T ‘ l l«#l-tf ’B^CTICAJ' aaastjagSw m tmr *km or tom au jwfegQgS's»ik » or dtaob*. 1 eop»» tfcwfa 'jrywrwiiii lelfl&ra k*e««U> OWWWg tr twth Pt>y [i^Jgrtg^ Ofle. to . LAED Oll^r cA ' M fast,* Vfa-uK&ifagft- AT mSSbKS a f.tm.Sl <t*_ V *• m, and T Ilpggp- McCUIJM & DERN, VOL. 7. the altoona tribune. it MrORUMf POIUBHWtS AND VBOPUBTOHS. .Hiniom.i,payable iuTariaWy ib bdva»e«,).._ £l*6o. ‘jl <iiaconliaued at the expiration «f the tine v ’* u " rvHMi*. «r APvaarißUie. 1 inttrUon 2 do. a Uo. » *S * $ 60 1,- 1 * I‘ne.J ••••• 40 75 100 “ ) 100 160 200 T *" • 1 34 “ 150 290 250 "“''r „, r «, w«k» »od lew than three month., 25 cents ..mar** 1 tor each inßvrtion. 1 r 1 {months. 6 months. X year. , r 7 » $3 00 *5 00 One k 4 00 6 00 10 00 **° .. 500 800 12 00 .. . 6 00 10 00 14 00 Iwf a column” 70 00 14 00 j« 00 . f u,. ,n UOO 25 00 40 00 ‘Xhn Kxecutors Nottom. : 1 76 Mlrdmnm advertise by the y«r, three squares. if 1 ’om nica*J «'pSutjci' .naracieV or i'idMdual in , .rant vriil be charged according 10 the above ratee.. Uvortiseraeu .* not marked with the number of toser , deVired. will be continued till forbid and charged ac ,„riiin» >o the shore terms. ■ M notices fire cents per line tor every insertion, notices exceeding ten lines, flfty centsa sqnare 'BALTIMORE LOOK HOSPITAL ESTABLISHED AS A KKFOGE FROM QUACEF.RY. The Only Place Where a Cure Can be Obtained. DU JOHNSON has discovered the most Certain, Speedy and only Effectual Remedy in tl„ world for all Private Diseases, Weakness of the Back ,'r Limbs. Strictures, Affections of the Kidneys and Blad ,i„r luvolnatary Discharges. Impotency, General Debility, NVrvonsaeaa, Dyspepsy, Languor, Eow Spirits Confusion „f (Jess, Palpitation of the Heart, Timidity, Tremblings, Dimness of Sight or Giddiness, Disease of the jHead. Throat, Soso or Skin, Affections of the Liver, Lnngs,Stom sell ~r Bowels — those Terrible disorders arising from the Solitary Habits of Youth—those ssautx and solitary prac « more faUl to their victims than the song of Syrens to Ills Mariners of Ulysses, blighting their most brilliant hopes or anticipations, rendering marriage .Ac., impossi ble YOUNG MEN y.o«cialiy, who have become the victims of Solitary Vice, th»t dreadful and deatuctive habit which annually aweepa «q untimely glare tbouaanda of Young Men ofthe moat ihdted talenla and brilliant intellect, who might other ai-w hare entranced listening Senates with the tbnnders ef eloquence, or waked to ectaay the living lyre, may call with full confidence. ' MARRIAGE. Harried Peraona, or Young Men cotemplating marriage, Wog aware of physical weakness, organic debility, defor inify, 4c, speedily cured. , „ , ; He who'places himself under the care of Dr. J. may re ligiously confide in his honor as a gentleman, and confl .Un'ilr rely upon hlaskill as a physician. ORGANIC WEAKNESS. I niWdiately Curt-di uud full Vigor Restored. ; , lids Distressing Affection—which renders Life miserable *n,l marriage impossible—-is the penalty paid by the ,vttihi*efimproper indulgence*. Young persons;are to Aiit to commit excesses from not being awate of taedread- Hit consequences that may ensue. Now, who that under wtimds the subject will pretend to deny that the power of iirocreation is lost sooner by those felling into improper habit* than by the prudent? Besides being deprived the pleasure* of healthy offspring, the most serious ijud de alructlve symptoms to both body and mind arise. The •*vstem becomes Deranged, the Physical and Mental Fane Hons Weikened, Loan of Procreative Power, Nervous Irri‘ lability, Dyspepsia. Palpitation of the Heart, Indigestion, Constitutional Debility, a Wasting of the Frame, Cough» Consumption, Decay and Death. . OFFICE, NO. 7 : SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, Left hand side going from Baltimore street, a few doors from the corner. Fail not to*ob»enre name and number. Letters must be paid and contain a stamp. Ime Doc tor's Diplomas hang in his office A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DATS. Xo Mercury or Xuseons Drugs. - DR. JOHNSON, „ , Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, Londom Grad nate from one of the most eminent Colleges in the united States, and the greater part of whose life has been jpent in "the hospitals of London. Paris, Philadelphia aha else where, ass effected some of the most astonishing cures that ware ever known; many troubled with ringing In the head and ears when asleep, great nervousness, being alarmed at sudden sounds, bashfuloess, 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 ruin both body and mind, unfitting them for either business, study, society or marriage. Tbssk are some of the sad and melancholy effects pro duced by early habits of youth, via: Weakness of the Back and Limbs, Palos in the Head, Dimness of Sight, Loss of "Muscular Power, Palpitation-'of the Heart, Dys* p»par,' Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Diges tive Functions. General Debility, Symptoms of Consump tion, kc. MMTaILT.—-The fearful effects of the mind are lunch to be dreaded—Loss of Memory, Coofosiou of Ideas, Be* preuion of spirits, Kell-Forebodlnga, Aversion to Society, Seif-Distrust, bore of Solitude,Tlmlditj, of the evils produced. InocsuTDS of persons of all ages can now judge what is tKecause of their declining health, losing their vigor, be .’itDiog weak, pale, nerronsand emacidtod, haripg a sin gular appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of ('oQßamptioD YOUNQ MEN , . Who have injured themselves by a certain practice in dulged in when alone, a habit frequently learfted froni evil companions, or at school, the effects of are nightly felt, even when asleep, and If not cured! renders marriage imposible, and destroys both mind and body, »hould apply Immediately. : -What a pity that a young mao, the hope of his country, the darling of bis parents, sbonld be snatched; from all prospects and enjoyments of life, by the consequence of deviating from the path of nature, and indulging in a ortain secrethablt. Such persons ¥tfsr, before contem plating , reflect that a sound mind and body are the roost necessary requisites to promote connubial happiness. Indeed, with' oat these, the Journey through life becomes a weary pH* primage; the prospect hourly darkens to the view; the;; mind becomes shadowed with-despair and filled with the v melancholy reflection tliat the happiness of another be* comes blighted witlt our own. DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE. . When the misguided and Imprudent rotary of pleasure find* that he has imbibed the seeds of this painful dls ««e, it too often happens that an ill-timed aense,of shame, or dread of discovery, deters him from applying* to those who. from education and respectability, can alone be* Wand him, delaying till the constitutional symptoms of this horrid disease make their appearance, such as ulcere* t*l sore throat, diseased nose, nocturnal pain s in;the head -»nd,iin)bs, dimness of sight, deafness, nodes on the ship bom»< and arms, blotches on the bead, face and extreral* progressing with frightful rapidity, till last the pslatß of the mouth or the bones of the nose foil In, and the victim of this awful disease becomes a horrid object of commiseration, till death puts a period to his dreadful sufferings, by sending him to w that UndlscovereifCountry from whence no traveller returns.'’ ; ftUa melancholy fact that thousands fall victims to this terrible disease, owing to the unskillfolneM oflgno pretenders, who, by the use of that Deadly fbisoiu X'reury, ruin the constitution and make the residue of hfe miserable. T STRANGERS .... ‘TOit not yoor lire*, or health to the core of the many Unlearned and Worthies! Pretenders, dcstitate of knowl name or charictfltyVho copy -Dr. Johnston's adrer foment*, or style themselves, In the newspapers, regu •%rfy Kdocated PhysicUns, incapable of Curing, they keep you trifling alter month, taking their filthy and ■PowonoM compounds, or as long as the smallest fee caa “* obtained, and in despair, leave you with ruined health to *igh over your galling disappointment, hr . Johnston Is the only Physician advertising: lii* credential or diplomas always hang In his office, ills remedies or treatment are unknown to nil others, prepared from a life spent In the great hospitals of Europe, *. ®**t In the country and a more extensive Private Pra& <c< than any other Physician in the world. .. . indorsement or the press. the many thousands cured at this institution# year after and the numerous important Surgical operations performed by Johnston, witnessed by the SfcpoTters of the ?V®»” *’ Clipper,” and many other papers, hotkee of speared again and again before the public, i his standing as a gentlemen of character and re* u a sufficient guarantee to the afflicted. v *S ,N DISEASES SPEEDILY CURED. J*° Jetters received unless postpaid and containing a he need on the reply Persons writing should state •S® and send portion of advertiseinentdescHbtng writing should be particular in directing their to this Institution, in the following manner: JONH M. JOHNSTON. Mi D., Of the Baltimore Lock Hoepital, Maryland. I MARRIAGE, ®lwite Ifotftg. U. C. DftHN, It U the glorious summer time. - The Winds are soft and low. And ofir tbe bill, sunlight and shade Alternate come and go; Tbe voice of Summer sweet is heaid Among the leaves and corn: For winds are full of whisperings At eve and early morn. Yee, glorioo* Sommer now la here. With alt her lengthened train, K She a ways her golden sceptre o’er The fields of ripening grain: The flowers along the river's side Are bending down* as though They wished to clasp their shadows in The crystal-depths below. A gladsome voice is stealing from The distant bourn and brake; The clouds, that float upon the air, Are mirror’d in the lake. And softly trips (he purling brook On silver feet along. While, from the bushes on its hank. The birds pour forth their song. The world seems very (air and bright. The sunlight sweep? oar brow. Bat it will be as beautiful A few short yean from now; With lightsome step July will come. With coot, refreshing showers, With laughing brooks, with singing birds. With sunshine and with flowers. The streams will.glide as gently on. With music sweet and low; Upon whose banks at eventide We roamed so long ago. The same bright sun. will still pursue Bis trackless course un high. And stars as bright aud beautiful Will still glean in the sky. Although the earth Will be as fair, The birds sing on each bough; They will not sing their songs for u* A few short years from now I Kor every living thing on earth Must shorthiy droop and die, And we shall soon have passed away Like cloud tint? from the sky. J'jlert |gisc«Uau|. [From the Phil*. Dollar Weekly Journal.] AH DTCIBEHT OF BALL’S BLUFF Since the outbreak of the war that is now sprinkling ohr hearthstones with drops of blood and sorrow, very many have been the instances of noble bravery, and many, have been the scenes and incidents of an affecting and stirring character. But there have been none thus far, we think, that exceeds the following in tragic, heart*touch ing sadness, none that more readily brings to oar lips the words: “ Would to God these things were ended.*’ On the day succeeding the battle of Ball’s Bluff a party of Union volunteers, bearing a flag ot truce, started out upon the bloody field for the purpose of burying some favorite comrades whom they knew to have fallen in the contest. Dividing into two squads, they commenced the sad search. By the slightest conceivable acci dent, the first squad straggled directly into a little ravine, so concealed by trees and bushes, that Nature seemed to have in tended it specially for fugitives to hide in. Each one of them stood still for a mo ment as a low, plaintive groan struck upon their ears, and then listening, .they heard some one say, in broken tones: “Oh, my brother! my dear Joe! God forgive me for killing you; but these vil lains deceived us and lied to us! Oh, dear Joe! I’m sorry I killed you !V The intruders, as the voice ceased, stepped forward, and came in full view of the scene. It was the following: Near the head of the little ravine, and dose up against the dense wall of bushes and rank undergrowth, kneeled two men. Both were bleeding from their wounds, but one was dead, while the other was so nearly so that he was .too weak to rise.— The dead one was dressed in a Massachu setts uniform, while that of the survivor proclaimed him a rebel. As the latter perceived the new comers, he spasmodically grasped the butt of a pistol protruding; from his belt, for the pur pose of defending himself; but, either be cause he saw that resistance was useless, or because of hijs failing strength, he did not draw the Weapon. With a mingled look of valor and pain upon his ghastly features, he straightened himself as well as he was able, and exclaimed in gasping, catching tones: “ Shoot me—ho quarter—r-I killed—my brother!’' As the last words escaped his lips he seemed to become totally unmanned, and bursting into tears and sobs, he sunk be side his dead brother. This paroxysm was quickly followed by insensibility, from which he was only aroused by a little spirit poured down his throat from the flask of one of the Union soldiers, a cor poral, who supported him tenderly in his arms, while his companions exerted them selves towards his recovery. What a strange feeling must have im pressed a spectator of the scene we have just described,; who had witnessed the carnage of the" day previous. A few hours only; passed since the red tide was ebbing and flowing upon’ the battle JULY. BT B. HARBT, JR. VT WESLEY BRADSHAW* ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 17, 1862. field, over which a' solemn quiet now reigned, that was only occasionally inter rupted by the sullen boom of artillery across the swollen river, in whose muddy waves many a mother’s noble boy now lay, coldly, silently sleeping; The rebel soldier- presently recovered, and spdke a few faint words to his enemy friends, if the term be admissable. He was kindly answered, and again his pallid features betrayed the various conflicting emotions that passed through his mind.— He rolled his half-glazed eyes from one to another of the strange faces about him with an expression of inquiring wonder. ‘•You belong to the Union army, don’t you ?” he faintly asked, after finishing bis survey of their pitying countenance. “Yes, we serve the United States, and are fighting for the Stars and Striiies,” was the reply. “Then why do you treat me so kindly, don’t you know that I am your foe?” “ No, we only know that you’re a sold ier wounded in battle, and so entitled to all the assistance we can give you.” “ Then it’s not true that the Northern ers show no quarter to our men when they take them,” “You ought to be able to settle that for yourself. We have taken you, and you see we have done you no harm, but done our best to save your life.” reply the evidently misguided man closed his eyes for' a moment or so, as though in deep meditation, and then, sud denly opening them, exclaimed: “I see it all, now. Oh, my God! my God! forgive me! lam nothing but a murderer! Joe! Joe! I wish it had been me instead of you! What fiends these villians have been!” “ We will carry you to a hospital,” said one of the Union soldiers. But the words had scarcely been uttered, before the wounded rebel cried out as vehemently as his failing strength permitted. “No, no! leave me here to die! I can not last long, and I want to die here— here in this spot, beside my brother, whom I have murdered!” The dying man tore open the bosom of his coat, and there, in his broad and man ly breast, gaped a terible and fatal wound, inflicted by a Minie rifle ball. “Listen! listen to me/’ he gasped in quickened accents, as though he feared that death would seal his lips ere he could utter what he wished to say. “My dear brother here, and I were twin brothel’s, and loved each other dearly. When four teen years of age, we lost our widowed mother, and were thrown upon the world with nothing but our own resources to de pend upon. “We were soon separated, he going to Massachusetts, while I went to Mississippi. For some time we did not see each other, and when at last we met, it was in Mexi co, where, side by aide, we fought, and fell wounded, for the old flag. From that campaign, we returned, each to our respec tive States, and the next time we met was yesterday on this Woody battle field. “Before the war opened, he and I fre quently wrote to each other, freely ex pressing our opinions on the great ques tions of the day, and sometimes with much bitterness, for, while he of course advoca ted the cause of the Union, I as deter minedly ranged myself under the banner of Jefferson Davis, in whose regiment of rifles I served in Mexico. “When our correspondence ceased, it was with mutual threats, should we ever encounter each other in the coming strife. And oh, how awfully have we each ful filled our threats ; and bitter, oh, merciful God! how bitter is the cup of remorse that I am draining here on my death bed. • “ Just after your leader, Colonel Baker, fell,. I chanced to see my brother at the edge of this thicket. In an instant the devil took possession of my heart, and I discharged my rifle at him. At the very moment, however, that I pulled the trig ger of my piece, an involuntary movement of his head saved him from instant death, as the ball, instead of piercing his brain merely glanced along his forehead. There is the wound, look at it.” The dying speaker pointed with trem bling linger at the corpse beside him, on the forehead of which was a long gash, from which the blood had flowed freely.—. It was full a minute before the surviving brother could continue his recital, so over come was he; but after a second draught from the. flask'M spirits, he resumed: “ I saw Joe dap his hand to his head, reel, and look up. He saw me, and re cognizing, I suppose by my exultant ges tures, that I was the one who struck him, he raised his jpusket and fired it in the air. I must have been mad at the mo ment, for instead of interpreting this act as one of noble, brotherly magnanimity, I thought it meant a challenge to close and mortal combat. “ With a wild yell, therefore, I rushed forward, soon came upon him, and whip ping out my bowie knife, plunged it sev eral times into his body before 1 discovered that the blood from his first wound had trickled down into his eyes, and thus ren dered him helpless to defend himself. “ As he sunk dying at my feet the spell [independent in everything.] was broken—l had murdered my only brother. With wild words of anguish I dashed my knife away, and raising Joe in my -arms, bore him tenderly to this spot, laid him gently down, bathed his face with tears, and begged to forgive me, to pray for me. Dying as he was, he smiled as he used to when a boy, and, clasping one arm about my neck, asked me to raise him upon his knees and he would pray for both of us. I did so, and as well as he was able, poor, dear Joe, in a few broken words, prayed for me and for his country. Further than this his strength would not cany him, and with a sigh he died, just as you see him there, kneeling in supplica tion to that God who will soon judge be tween us. The speaker here again became too Weak proceed, but after a short space revived far as to be able to speak: i “ All night I staid with Joe 1 the rain ; pouring down on me in torrents; but I did | not feel it, for my heart was on Are'. This morning as I was still watching by my murdered brother, I heard the report of a musket, and at the same, instant I felt a ball pierce my breast. It was a chance shot tired by some straggling soldier, but it has brought a just punishment, and I am dying. Would to God I had died long, long ago, ere I lifted my hand against my country’s flag, and murdered my brother in cold blood! Oh, Joe! my dear, dear brother, Joe, forgive.me! forgive me!” With these words the speaker drew a long, groaning sigh, stretched his limbs and expired. Tenderly the Federal soldiers laid the dead brothers beside each other in one grave, and left them to slumber on until that great day, when Davis and his vile compeers will be called to a just account for the ill they have wrought upon so many millions of their fellow countrymen. Trouble in a Fashionable Chxtrch in New York. —Some time since a gentle man of good standing in the community, who is a member of the up town Baptist church purchased a fashionably located pew, for which he paid the munificent sum of $l,OOO. In the course of time he reverses, and among the effects at the mercy of the creditors was the pew in the church. This fell to the lot of a practical working mechanic, who decided that he would worship God in that edifice, and with family, would, on the next Sabbath occupy the $l,OOO pew for that purpose. Accordingly, he and his family attended regularly and respectively the services of the sanctuaiy, but his social status became known to the ladies and gentlemen who occupied pews adjacent to his, in the mid dle aisle, and they presumed to criticise the minutest act of the new comers. The mode of shutting their eyes during prayer, their usual atteUtion, and apparent devo tion during services, their .vulgar practice of remaining till the close of the services, their going to church in stormy weather without using a carriage, and other ex tremely ill-bred peculiarities, are all criti cised. As the mechanic and his wife re tired from the church, the grown boys of the congregation, together with some of the younger misses, would crowd in the vestibule and converse loudly about “ taU low,” “ grease,” “ shoddy coat,” “ calico,” “ leather gloves,” and other kindred sub jects, with which the strangers were sup posed to be familiar. It, appears that the humble but frugal mechanic bore this con tumely with creditable Christian forbear ance yielding his in no degree, but continuing his religious ordinance as usual. The stoicism of the iron pew-holder was an outrage to the devotees of fashion; they appeal to the trustees, and the trustees ap peal to the mechanic, the mechanic offered to sell put at cost price; the trustees hesi tated, and the mechanic retained the pew, attending the church as usual. Being somewhat democratic in his notions of so ciety, and a believer in the doctrine of human equality, he introduced into his softly cushioned pew two colored brethren. This last act was the feather which broke the camel’s bade. So grave an outrage demanded redress at the hands.of the law as a “disturber of public worship”—an act of annoyance to God’s people “ under their own vine and fig tree.” The mechanic still continues his devo tions, is passionately fond of music, and delights to look up at the choir while praise is going on in that locality. Mean while the trustees have preferred a charge against him before the police justice for “disturbing public worship,” on which Mr. Mechanic had to find bail, and the Grand Jury have found a bill against him. His case will be tried soon, in the court of General Sessions. The church demands that they prosecute the case. They con femplate forcing him to sell the pew at a sacrifice, which’ he considers would not be an equitable Ifinancial transaction. 6* Imagination should be modest and retiring; like the heart emotions extorted from it are always less forcible than those that spring spontaneously. fV At what time of the day was Adam created? A little.before Eve. HOW TO MAKE SELFISH PEOPLE. The way to spoil a child is to give it all it wants and require nothing in return. The way to make a child grow up to be sensible and unselfish, is to give it little and require of it much. For, it is'not what others do. for us that benefits us, but what we do for ourselves and others. We know parents whose only study is to grati fy their children, and this they think is generosity. It is riot generosity; it is self fishness. To gratify a child is a keen de light, but to make it do its duty is often troublesome. To let it off a lesson cqjpts only a word, to give it a toy is an affair of only a few cents; to say to it some fond and battering word is no trouble at all.— Hut the moment you begin to enforce a duty, or compel the faithful performance of a task, you encounter difficulties, you have to take trouble, and practice some of the cardinal virtues; you have to be pa tient firm and wise. The difference be tween a good parent and a bad dne is this: a good parent treats his child in the way that will be most beneficial to it when it is grown up;. a bad parent thinks Only of the child’s enjoymerit of to-day. We ought to be more charitable toward selfish people than we are. Selfishness is an exceedingly unpopular vice. But when we consider how many fond and foolish parents spend years in doing nothing but trying to please their children, and never exercise their sense of duty, never call attention to the rights of others, or perform service for others, we ought not to wonder that so many persons are wholly devoted to the gratification of self. The limb that is not used becomes; weak and soft, and will at length dwindle and wither, but the mighty right arm of the .black smith still thickens and hardens, the longer he uses the sledge hammer. Well, it is just so with all the faculties of body and mind. Who are the generous and public spir ited ? Who are the first to. rush to the defence of an imperilled country! Who bestir themselves for the improvement of their village or town! Go back to the early homes of these people, and you will find they were brought up to lighten their parents’ load, not to make it ; lieavier. — They learned self-denial and good sense by being obliged to perfom at least as much work as they caused.’ The boys were hoeing corn, bringing in wood and hunting the cows, the girls were helping their mothers. In this way, ; they ac quired a certain invaluable something, which prevented them from being either selfish or very foolish. This something we know not what to name, but it is the difference between a person of sense and a fool.—A r . Y. Ledger. A Knowing Blackbird.— When a blackbird once learns a tune, he;never for gets it nor any part of it. I once knew a bird that could whistle “I'olly Hopkins” . with wonderful accuracy. His owner sold him, at the same time making the purcha ser acquainted with the bird’s favorite tune. As soon as the gentleman got him home, he at once hung up the blackbird, and go ing to the piano, struck up “Polly Hop kins.” The bird’s new master, however, introduced parts into the tune that he had never heard before, so, after listening for a while, he began hissing, fluttering his wings, and otherwise signifying his dis taste of the whole performance. Much surprised, the gentleman left off playing, and then the blackbird opened his throat, ahd favored his new master with his ver sion of “Polly Hopkins,” nor would he ever, listen with any patience to any other version. This same blackbird, after stay ing in the service, of the above named gen tleman for two years, was adopted hy a serious family, where “Polfy Hopkins” and all such profanity were sedulously avoided. Whenever poor “ Joe” (the blackbird’s name) attempted to strike up the old tune, a cloth was thrown over his cage, and he was silenced. The faihily con sisted of an old lady and two daughters, and every night at 7 o’clock, prayers were read, and the “Evening hymn” siting; and Joe, wbb was an obedient bird, sind I anxious to conform to the habits of the house, speed ily learned the tune, and regularly whis tled it while the old lady and her daugh ters sang it. This went on for six or seven years, when the mother died,. and the daughters' separated, and Joe fell into new hands; but to his dying day, ho never gave up the “ Evening Hymn.” • Punctually as the clock struck seven he- tuned up, and went straight through with the gravity of a parish clerk.—■ Beeton's lime Pets. far An editor in- the village of Mitchell, C. W., says:— 1 “One little garden patch of ours was very profitable last season.— The snails eat up the cucumbers; the chickens eat up the snails; the neighbors’ cats eat up the chickens; and now, if we can only get hold of something that will eat up the cats, we’ll try it again.” far A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense; more accomplishments than learning; more chartnil of person than grace of mind; more admirers than friends; more fools than wise men fin* at tendants. EDITORS- AND PI A CAPTAIH DISGRACES. , “On Tuesday, I, with our regiment and all of the division not on duty, wit nessed a very interesting but very solemn ceremony—that of disgracing a Captain publicly. It appears at West Point, Va , Company lof the Thirty-fourth N.' Y. Volunteers, was color company, and the disgraced officer was captain. The colonel wanted to assign the colors to another company, and at dress-parade the captain refused to parade his company, and even stacked arms and told the men,, to refuse to take them. He was arrested and tried by a court martial for mutiny, con victed, and. would have been shot, had not General McClellan commuted his sen tence. “ The cerenjony took place in a large field. The regiments were formed in col umns of divisions; each column was close to the next, so that it made an un broken front. They were then formed into a hollow square; the commanders of regiments, brigades and division and stalls were in the centre. The prisoner was brought in under a heavy guard, and hand-cuffed. They marched to the centre of the square. The prisoner stepped two paces to the front of the guard; the officer commanding the guard then came forward and told the prisoner to take off his hat. He then read in a loud voice, the charges, specifications, and the sentence of the court martial, which was: “that his sword be broken before his face, that he be publicly disgraced before the division, and serve one year in the District of Co lumbia jail; and that it shall be disgrace ful for any soldier of the army of th'e Po tomac to associate with him hereafter.” After this was read a sergeant came for ward and cut all the brass buttons from his coat/and then took his sword and brake it in half, saying as he did so: “1 hereby declare it disgraceful for all men of the army of the Potomac to associate with this man hereafter,” and then threw the pieces on the ground. The prisoner was marched off under the same guard, and we were marched back to our camp.” A Chaplain’s Mistake. —One moan ing when visiting the hospital and speak ing an encouraging word, to each individ ual, I came to one who had been severely wounded, and whose sufferings the day be fore, while having his wounds dressed, were very severe. He was deathly pale, and had a very sad, desponding expression of countenance. 1 immediately went to work to comfort and encourage him, and among other things said: That he very likely go home a cripple—that he would have but one leg on which to jour ney along through life—that he might, perhaps, have some serious difficulties to contend with, but it would always be a great comfort for him to reflect that he had suffered in a good cause; —that he had shouldered his musket in defence of his country—that his wounds were honorable, and that God would bless him—and so on. “ He’s a secesh! chaplain, he’s a secesh!” said a wounded boy occupying the next cot. 1 “Ah! hem! well! yes—hem!” stam mered I, feeling somewhat up A stump. “ Secesh! ah —mistaken,” said I trying to recover my equilibrium, and as politely as possible remove the underpinning of the consolary edifice I had been so industri ously and hopefully building. “ But he is sorry for what he has done, and says he did wrong in joining the reb els,” said the boy apologizing as much as possible for the wrong-doer, and magnan imously trying to take the edge off his keen accusation. —Chickahominy Corres pondence. A Timely Bbpkoop. —Humor and sharp wit are never put to better use than in an swering a fool according to his folly, and we could wish that reproofs like the fol lowing were more frequent: Some five or six years ago, in one of the trains of cars running between Newark and Jersey City, N. J., there was a young feaval officer, who was constantly inter- Singling his conversation with the most profane oaths- A young lady was so sit uatetl that she could not but hear every time he swore. At first she bore it with equanimity; then as it contained, and rather; increased in the shocking character of his imprecation, she began to grow fidgety and her eyes flashed. We knew a bolt would be shot, and that it would strike huh. “ Sir, can you converse in the Hebrew tongue?” . “ Yes,” was the reply, in a half uhcon scioußaligbtiy sneering tone “Then,” was the reply, “if you wish to swear any more, you will greatly oblige me and probably the rest of the passengers also, if you dp it in Hebrew.” I watched,him. It bad hit. Hiscdlor came and went —now red, now white.— He looked at the young lady, then at his boots, then at the ceiling of the cars; but he did not swear any more, either in He brew or English, ami he probably remem bered that younglady. t retnirp eht yap syawla npy oD.jp ♦ ' NO. 24.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers