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.