m iUNDFApIoat » „ BarrUburg, p a Igt iajhU&y devoted to mmM HSSS2PS ffiS&SSrsait ft#s::Sisss 33S ~™TS“i!u~ m~ *-&™aSSSr~ Jfenrtti»rn. fe j*. th » OOoei an «, Sr all who «U.lut [Marcha.l^fj ■ V-/ CC ts « W? * a 2 Sais!* ■ *ihK4 W ;«! i HI * ! !a||l Mil. g •:■(:■ X| .\£%v K o.s s ;t K 8 6 H %g*£fi *i;ljj J|fe : : _a ta isi’ 5 J m op* ii. : ' - ffil-S S* AND BAKERY! RSIGNED ANNOUtf i of Altoona and-rtelolty that he O iUOIM of HONARIBS, NUTS, SPICKS A&,*xt»w|p Aar tbaßoUdan. iftr-oßlhaada- nod (tuck*? >UId am MamtlW«*MA ' JNfiS, RAISINS, AC, ■oouoftbe jaar. gar, Molasses, Boll#*r, HITS WHEAT FLOUR. LODA CORK MEAL, *C„ nl> In largo or unall qtumUtto.. ioo mjr stock and yok- will find iny la town. JACOB WIML .CTIONERY TER SiLOON, HIRER WOULD IN i of Altoona and vicinity that his JTand FRUIT STORE, U always beet Articles to and in great iii saloon which he willaerre up OYSTERS 6 MUOD. tdX>' S PIES alwajf,* on head. red to supply cafces.candks, Sc. tie*. He invite* a share of public he can render full satisfaction to id saloon Is onYirglniasttseMwo I OTTO ROSSI. fTINGER’S Jews Agency, b. .7, MAIN STREET BLAHK IBOOKS. eONEECTIONAHIES $ T t OßA<2<X>, OH ASKS. I-.; - -.:... YD A <20., AW, JV, Sf. JAGK Sc CO., > : Uek # Co.”) N THE PRINCIPAL >J|ACffICAL ttoiwaflw**’*' •ad* m Mofrrm*. .*W ■ga^te f'jwK *S»T) ~-C MM h jp^r: ■H -» /s *£3 ■ 1 75/ tr i . McCBtM & DEEN, roL. 7. THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE. tjcCHUM,.*. H * C. DBBK, PCKUBHSBB AMD MBOPBIMTOBi. . ta oum. P*y*W eiuV<kri * W y * dTanc *») lUO. t i‘»continued at the expiration of the time TERM* or APVIETIUKO 1 insertion IMV - * “ * f.H I W ‘ i S lines) ** 1 00 (16 “ ) l«0 140, 200 * J ... (21 •• j 140 200 240 ■ Ill[W weeks mud ten than three months. 24 cents f or each insertion. ■ M ! 8 months. 0 months. 1 year. sl 60 t 3 00 $4 00 2 40 4 00 7 00 4 00 6 00 10 00 ..... 600 800 12 00 ..... 600 10 00 14 00 , , 10 00 14 00 20 00 ' M 00 26 00 40 00 KxecnWte Settees 1 74 1 rchmut" advertising by the jrtmr. three .qnar.., I l ""Mnics'ttons of « political jhnrneierorindieMunl In -1 Zirn charged according to the shore rates, urertisemen.« not marked with the number of loser 0, desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac "riisew the shore terms. access notices See cents per line for erery insertion. iwtoin notices exceeding ten line* fifty centaasqaa i ,iq«s or !••• ..ivure,- BALTIMORE LOCK HOSPITAL "t UJLI3UKD AS A lUSFDOB FROM QUACKERY fie Only Place Where a (Jure Can be Obtained. Di{. JOHNSON has discovered the moil Certain, Speedy and only Effectual Remedy In _i r ii far all Private Diaeaaea. Weakne*. of the Back Limb. Strictures, Affections of the Kidneya and Blad - Involuntary Discharges, Itupoteney, General Debility, - \ ,utneas, Dyspepsy, Languor. Low Spirit*. Confusion ■ Uca* Palpitation of the Heart, Timidity, Tremblings, v , M ' 0 f Sight or Giddiness, Disease of the Head, ’nt Nose or Skin, Affections of the Liter, Lungs. Stom i ,r Bowels—ikoso Terrible disorders arising from the V, t«rv Uabita of Youth—those bicut and solitary prac acre fatal to theit yictims than the song of Syrens to • Mariners of Clysaea, blighting their most brilliant e. ar anticipations, rendering marriage -Ac, impoasi- YOUNG MEN 1 wiJlv. who hate become the victims of Solitary Vice, •’ii'jfa&fnl and desfuctite habit which annually sweeps "ii natimelygrate thouaands of Yonng Men of the most I lilted taleats and brilliant Intellect, who might bthrr •i- Kave entranced listening Senates with the tbnnders frequence, or waked to ecusy the living lyre, may call filk foil confidence. MARRIAGE. \larried Per»on», or Young lieu cotemplating marriage, a mare of physical weakness, organic debility, defer* .jrfT* ic., i{>eedily cured. f le who places himself under the care of Dr. J. may re* ..;Lu«ly coofide in bis honor as a gentleman, and confi relr upon hi-* skill as a nhysicinn. ORGANIC WEAKNESS r.;jediAt«ly Cured, and full Vigor Restored, fail DUtressiug Affect ion—which renders Life miserable -jl carriage impossible—is the penalty paid by the ■ ictiais of improper indulgences. Young persona are to i.icomiQit exces es from not being awaie of the dread* : t that may ensue. Now. who that under .;,rids the subject will pretend to deny that the power of ■ -Ration is lost Riviner by tho«e falling into improper itjjin than by the prudent? Besides being deprived the ,ri«res of healthy offspring, the most aeridua and de* symptoms to both body and mind arise. The <.,t?rn becomes Deranged, the Physical and Mental Fane* :.-a» Weakened. Los* of Procreative Power. Nervous Irri* i|ity, Dyspepsia, Palpitation of the Heart, Indigestion V.rtitutional Debility, a Wasting of the Frame, Cough, - sumption. Decay and Death. OFFICE.- NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, band side going from Baltimore street, a few doors ;.va the corner. Fail not name and number. L-tPr* mast be paid and .contain a stamp. The Doc* ■r'i Dlj'to'f&as hang in his office A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS. So Mercury or Siueom Drugt. OR. JOHNSON, ■i'uibrr of the Royal College of Surgeons, London, Grad* •:*;* from one of the most eminent Colleges in the United tad the greater part of whose life has been spent in bMpiial* of Lsndon, Paris, Philadelphia and else* L*re, has effected some of the most astonishing cares : ut were ever known; many troubled with ringing in the >ii sad ears when asleep, great nervousness, being • «r:aed at sudden Bounds, bashfulness, with frequent "iushibg, attended sometimes with derangement of mind, •rf* cared immediately. r . TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE - ur.J. addresses all those who haws injured themselves :• indulgence and solitary habits, which ruin ’A body and mind, unfitting them for either basin***, ‘liir.tuciety or marriage. Tatk are some of the sad and melancholy effects pro k>i'by early habits of yonth, vlt: Wearness of the Limbs, Palos in the Head, Dimness of Sight, af Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart, Dye* Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Diges* ; Fuuctiunt, General Debility, Symptoms of Consump 'hsiiiLT.— The fearful effects of the mind are much to - dreaded—Loss of Memory, Confusion of Ideas; De : of spirits, Kvil-Forebodingi, Aversion to Society,, -'■rDiitrtwt, Love of Solitude, Timidity, Ac., are some of T -' veils produced. --:'CUsds of persons of all ages can now judge what is cnQßt of their declining health, losing their vigor, be* : aiaj weak, palei nervous and emaciated, having a sin* c: ' 4r appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of •moptioo. YOUNG MEN 'J ‘ hare injured thomeelree by a certain practice in ;;:s«i in when alone, a habit frequently learned from' l ; toQpanione, or at ecliool, the effect! of which are "'■ir fall, eren when aileep. and if not cured rendere -‘"late impoeible, and deatroye both mind and body, apply immediately. "hat a pity that a young man, the hope of hie country, ' darling of hit parente, ahonld be snatched from all ‘ tl«ta and enjoyment* of life, by the consequence of 'hdis; from the path of nature, end indulging in a ;ti;o secret habit. Such pencils HOST, before content ;.f„ng , MARRIAGE, --ct that a sound mind and body are the moat necessary '■iaiaites to promote connubial happiness. Indeed, with these, the journey through life becomes a weary pil ■;a'tge; the prospect hourly darkens to theriew; the ~ becomes shadowed with despair and filled with the -tiiacholy reflection that the happiness.ot another be cirr blighted with our own. k DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE. .., “• misguided and Imprudent rotary of pleaaure -J-tthathe has imbibed the eeede of this painful dis often happens that ah ill-timed sense of shame, _ tread of discovery, deters him from applying to those . . from education and respectability, can alone be , : j “!», delayihg til! the • constitutional symptoms of .;j ““rnd disease make their appearance, such as nlcera iVt'r t a I rolt ’ diseaeed nose, nocturnal pain tin the head i hubs, dimness of sight, (leafneee, nodes on the shin . tt<aQdtrras, blotches oh the head, free andeztremi i - with frigfatfhl rapidity, till at last the ”f' the mouth or the banes of the noee fall in, and • of this awful disease becomes a horrid oWect of ~i^ iKr4ti on, till death puts a period to his dreadful *■ T2?*’ '’F tending him to “ that Undiscovered Country I I :/" 0 " no Irareller returns.” "'■duaekoly fact that thousands fall rictime to Irt-.* , ■.dneaee, owing to the nnskillfntneee of igno- I who, by the nee of that Deadly /bison, I'■>.tdin the conetitntion and make the residue of I “ Oilerable. W flA , STRANGERS *°‘/oor Hr**, or health to the care of the man; rtz-* *" lnt * Worth **** Pretenders, destitute of knowl* ~' me or character, who copy t>r. Johnston’s ftdver* !Wi?i ® rrt^c themvelve*. In the newspapers, reeu- I r;i iSI? 0 ' 1 *' 1 Physicians, Incapable of Curing, they keep PiaoMn *» month after month, taking their filthy and |b« )' J u; t L s^ m P° and *» or ** long as the smallest fee can aa<lin despair, leave yon with ruined health Df j ,j, €r 7 on . r Ruling disappointment. Ui, ;* Q,tO P w the only Physician advertising. HU or Hlptoma* always hang in his office. ! torrid f* 1 * 1 °. r treatment are unknown to all others, the Sr,. (/JIP a IH** *P?ht in the great hospitals of Knrope, h*st th«n .^° untry an( * a more extensive Private Prae i Jfw*** ker Physician lu the world. T k*i2??hs SEl ! EMT ., or THE PRESS. ’Hr. tad J’thousands cored at this institution, year after !*''rffi*d h» T°w m ! roa * .important Surgical operations “Sua* CHi ohn r. ton ‘/ ,tTleaMd by th * reporters of the raan y oth 7 papers, notices of r sile *V ls B uS^ da^U * n ? before the public, i. • a gentlemen of character and re- J, u a «omdent guarantee to the Holm,l!J, O| SEASES speedily cured. “I*** wd con tuning . rl’iUilf-n i )n *• "p'y Pouom writing aboald «t»t« i p «wm writlirlklllSi* frti**m.n,d.«rlblDg»,mptoini l, «*r, to thu T B *Sf?, U b r PwtlcnUrHn directing th.lr .ilVj tlon ' In the following nunner : OT .jf°MN M. JOHNSTON. M. D . ° ,tt * BOUanrelock , flTfemre fojttrf. THE DYING VOLUNTEER. “ 0 w»»P tftfuod dm, boy*,” And Uy no down to die, Where the cannon roam around ne And the carnage rage* high. Whilo theUtt thooght’iofmx country And my mother—oh, my God, Let thy atrong right arm cappurt her Whilo oho plea ’ncath thy rod.. 2 do. S do. Thermo a cottage on the WH side Of the noble " Prairie Btate* Where a golden willow droppcth O’er a little rustic gate, And my grey-haired sire is sitting With his bible on his knee By its hearth stone, while be prayeth Bren now, perhaps for me* And forther on, another still. But, oli, themad’oing thought. What misery to thee, beloved, Treason's black hand hath wrought; But thine is not the onlyheart ■ That bows in woe to-night., Xor thine the only stricken soiil That looks above for light. But be ye strong, and' bear ye up— We have not bled in vt*in— The fetters we have stricken off. Will ne’er be forged again. And had I now a thousand livta. I’d give them all for thee, My native land, my precious home, If they plight make thee free. Then w wrap the Flag around me boya.” The Red, the White and Blue, In every thought and every act. To them I have been true; Living, 1 f»nght beneath Its folds. Dying, my prayer shall be, s That every star may typify, A country truly free. JM*rt fpswliaag. Frompderson't Magazine. THE HIDEOUS MAH. CHAPTER 1. ‘You know it is your father’s wish, Lu ly.’ £ ,Only a wish, auntie, not a‘ command, and I think it is cruel for you !to try to force me to marry that hideous man !’ ‘He has been very ill, dear, and of course—he—that is——— ’ ‘ You can’t make an Adonis of him, auntie, so don’t try. And if you could be would not be much improved,' in my estimation. Such an uncouth mortal never crossed my path! If I speak to him he colors to the hue of a boiled lobster, and fidgets his hands and feet aS if he was afraid I wanted to run away with them; and his ‘ yes ma’am’ and ‘no ma’am, are as broad and constrained as if I were his grandmother.’ ‘ And yet your uncle says he .is very ac complished.’ * Oh Auntie'!’ ‘ Quite true, my dear. Youmust take into consideration his disadvantages.—— His mother, one of the liveliest women whom 1 ever knew, died when Lionel was but five years old ; and his father, in consolable, shut himself up in that out of the way country place of his and never went into society again. Lionel's educa tion has been his whole care, and, a pro found scholar himself, be has probably spared.ho pains to make his sob his equal. Still the entirely recluse fife was calculated •to make the boy shy and nervous, and the long, severe illness which followed his lather's death accounts for his pale face.’ ‘I hope his trip to France will restore ■Jlis health,' said Luly, rather coldly. ‘ And you V ‘ I cannot go with him,’ cried the young girl passionately. ‘My father’s will only requests us to look upon each other as the children of life-Jong friends as; he and Mr. Carle ton should do so. He hopes we .may lov£ each other well enough to;marry hap pily ; otherwise, he does not |even desire OUr union. Ido not love him and I can not flatter myself with the idea that he even admires me, so we had ( best part as good friends, but no more.’ At that instant the subject of conversa tion entered the room. A few common place remarks passed beteen him and Mrs. Baymond and she pleaded some house hold engagement and left the room.— The lovers, per contract, sat in silence for some moments, and a greater contrast can scarcely be imagined than the two pre sented. I ■ ’ ; Luly Hazleton wes a blonde of the most exquisite type. Of medium size, her form was graceful and symmetrical, and her fair curls and large blue eyes suited t|ie Grecian profile and fair: delicately tinted complexion. An expression of an imation and high intellect saved her face from insipidity; and as she bent now over her sewing, the rich color mantling her cheeks proved her embarrassment. She was but seventeen, and not at 'her ease with the lover die intended to discard. : And Lionel Carleton, raising his dark eyes from the floor, saw in the large mir ror this perfect form and face, and his own figure. He was very tall, and his height was exaggerated fay the. attenuation of long illness. The large features, which Would have been manly and handsome in health were actually monstrous in the BY EMILY J. MACINTOSH. ALTOONA, PA., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1862 i thin sallow face ; and his dark eyes looked ! hollow and unnatural with the dark rims i which suffering had penciled around them. : They were weak too, and the pink tinge of ; the lids, and a certain; straining look did : not improve their beauty. ' A close fitting black scull cap, which concealed the loss ! of hair, sacrificed in his illness, added to : the grotesque appearance of the young I man. He smiled sadly, as he studied the ; group in the mirror ; and then with the I nervous tremor in his voice, and flutter* | ing of his fingers, which betokened his bash i fulness, he said in a low tone: • Miss Hazleton, I have come to you, at your unde’s request, to tell you that I leave to-morrow, to ask you if I may take with me .the hope thtit the engagement which your father made with mine will be fulfilled when I return.’ He tried to speak camly ; yet, had Luly studied bis face, she could have read in every line the longing hope, the deep love which mide his voice tremble and blanch ed his sallow cheek. ‘ T regret,’ she said, quietly, yet not raising her eyes,. 4 that we were so strange-, ly bound to each other, before we were old enough to know what the contract impos ed. You feel yourself obliged- ’ 4 You mistake,’ said he eagerly ; ‘ there was no obligations on either side. I—l’ She had raised her eyes to his faceques tioningly, and while he colored deeply, he stammered and let his voice die away in silence. Something in the'look he gave her, in the attitude he took, told the woman’s heart his love. This lonely boy in his orphanhood suddenly brought, for the first time into familiar intercourse with a beau tiful girl,: loved her with the passionate ardor of first love, intensified by his pre vious life. Touched with a feeling of pity, Luly aroSe and came to his side. 4 We are both very' young, Mr. Caiieton, and it is better that we should be free for some years at least. I will speak ‘ freely. Ido not love you !’ The ghastly white ness ofhis face almost frightened her, but she was acting a noble, true part, and con tinued, ‘I will not trifle with you; and when you have met others with more pow er to ■win your love than I possess, you will thank me for it. Let us part as good flrends, and, believe me, you will carry my most earnest wishes for your speedy re covery and happiness.’ 4 Stay—one moment,’ he gasped, catch ing her hand : ‘ you love no one else V 4 No one ! I have just left school; I scarcely know what love means,’ she said blushing. ‘ Then,' he said, earnestly, ‘ will you let the engagement stand as it is for a year ? I shall then return, and, trust me, if you still feel as yoU do now, no word of mine shall again urge you to alter your decision.— We are, as you say, young, and two weeks is but a short time to make a decision which affects a whole life time. Let me write to you as a friend only, if you desire it, and perhaps in a year ’ He raised his eyes again wi th a pleading almost childish look, which moved her deeply. His-love conquered his shy man ner, and the hope of his whole heart was mirrored in his large dark eyes. ‘Be it so,’ she said gently. ‘I will answer your letters, and in a year we shall meet again. Only,’ she said ear l nestly, ‘if my heart remains untouched, you mustacquit me of any charge of co quetry.’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘ Believe me,’ he said, *no thought that is not boni of love and respect can ever cross my mind regarding you,’ and rising, he left her alone. CHAPTER H. ‘ And pray, Uncle William, who is this irresistible Adonis ? I quite long to meet hin.’ Your desire will be granted then, for I have invited him. to pass some weeks at Milton, and he has accepted my invitation. He will be here to-day or to-morrow. — Take care of your heart, or poor Lionel will soon have cause to be jealous.’ ‘ Mr. Carleton has no right to be jealous,’ said Louisa Hazleton, quickly, ‘ nor is my heart as Susceptible as you insinuate.— By the .way, it is now eighteen months since Lionel went abroad ; and it is several weeks since he has written. Can he be coming home V ‘ Not at all unlikely. He writes well. Luly!’ : ‘Well! He writes the most charming etters 1 ever read. No published account of a European trip that I ever read com pares with the letters for interest, wit, or grace. - His familiarity with the modern language gives jnm an insight into the manners of each -country; while his ready pen, his keen observation, and alternations of gravity and wit, make his letters per fect models of composition, interesting narrative |and graceful address.’ .‘Well done, Lou!’ cried her unde laughing.; She blushed a little, and then said. ‘lf he was not such |a fright!’ ‘ Well you can’t make that chage against the guest i I expect to-morrow. He is one of the handsomest men! I ever seen. I am not very expert at portrait punting, Lou, but I can give you somje idea of him. He fINDEPENDENT Df JJVEKTTHING.] is tall, with broad shoulders, full chest, and an erect manly carriage. A symmetri cal Hercules. His features are regular and he has the most expressive dark eyes. His hair is very dark, almost black, and curls all over his head, and his mouth and teeth are faultless. His smile is the most winning I ever saw.’ ‘Mr. Murray, sir,’ said a servant enter ing the drawing room. ‘Ah ! Show him in James. He hoped to get here to-day, but was afraid he would be detained until to-morrow,’ he added, turning to Mrs. Raymond: ‘ We are glad to welcome him at any time,’ said that lady, smiling, and rising at the same moment to meet the stranger as hie entered. i Louisa acknowledged that her uncle had ; not over done the portrait, as she raised ■ her eyes to return his graceful courteous j greeting. ‘Well might my uncle William warn ;me to guard my heart!’ she said to herself, ias the afternoon wore om 4 1 never saw such fascinating manners.’ ‘ Now, Luly, some music,’ said her uncle, as they returned to the drawing room after tea. i _ 4 But uncle ’ i ‘Oh !: Mr. Murray is a musician him j. self ; so open the piano !’ I 4 Permit me,’ said the gentleman, taking : Louisa’s place at the heavy lid of the | grand piano.’ 4 And now that it is open,’ she said | gaily 4 let me hear you prove my uncle’s as- I sertions.’ ' 4 Willingly ! This is just the light for j the dreamy German music which I prefer ! above all others:- Have you ever heard this, Miss Hazleton ?’ and he began to play : a waltz which exactly answered his des ! cription. | Lousia listened to it with crimson cheeks J for the air was one which she herself had i often played for Lionel, and which he had always asked for, when the choice of the music lay with him Mr. Murray had not been many days at Milton, when Louisa perceived that the young gentleman was making love to her. There was not the slightest doubt about it. Every hour was filled with the thousand attentions which a lover offers to the fair lady whose heart he hpoes to win ; and delicacy of his manner, his grace, and cour tesy, and the mixture of devoted respect with manly protection, made every hour in bis presence delightful: and Louisa whispered to herself, that, if her conjectures were true, and he loved her, he should be no despairing swain. She sighed some times when Lionel's letters came under .her notice; but one thought of his face and manner brought the contrasting Mr. Murray, and she was glad, the year being over without his return, to feel that she was-free. They were in the library one morning, Mr. Murray reading aloud, while Louisa and her aunt were sewing, when Mr. Ray mond came in. ‘ Luly, I have a letter here which I want copied, and lam very busy. Will you do it for me ?’ ‘lf I can be useful,’ said Mr. Murray, ‘ pray command me.’ ‘Thank you, my dear fellow. Louey get Mr. Murray some paper.’ She lingered a moment near him, as he commenced his task, and as he wrote, she followed the motion of his head as if fasci nated. Her uncle and aunt both left the room; still he wrote and she watched him. The letter was a short one, . and as he wrote the last word, he pushed away the paper, and for the first time looked up. ‘ Miss Hazleton! I thought you went out with Mr. Raymond. You—l -’ She was looking at him earnestly, and he colored, hesitated, and finally stopped speaking. After a moment of; silence, he raised his eyes again with a mute, implor ing expression. ‘ I thought that the handwriting was familiar,’ she said; and now your eyes betray you. ‘Yet you are much altered, Lionel!’ ‘ Only inasmuch as I have regained my health and become more accustomed to society. Believe me Louisa, my heart is unchanged, true always to you. You have discovered,me. Your uncle and aunt kne# who was their guest before he landed, and gave their consent to his try ing to win his wife, unprejudiced by her old indifference or dislike* Louey, you know you have long known my love. — Can you now give me, what you refused, a word of hope?’ There reader, you and I will leave, only re-entering with Mrs. Raymond, an hour later, to find Louey, all smiles and blushes, the promised wife of that hideous man* Mbs. Lincoln’s Sisters. —On Monday last we observed three beautiful ladies promenading Whitehall street, and were informed that two of them were sisters of Mrs. President Abe Lincoln. The ladies we saw, we are pleased to know are sec ond to none in patriotic devotion to the South. They reside in Selma, Ala. If Old Abe’s wife is half as handsome as her fair ; eiders of the Sunny South it is not strange that she is so much admired by the Yankeas. —A tlania Confederacy. THE FRENCHMAH’B SHEAP. If, unluckily, you should happen to get j into a dispute,- the best way is to stop ! short arid ask your antagonist to i enter | into a consideration of what the point is. ■ This is apt to , have : a cooling effect on ! both parties, and to result in a clear under j standing of the real question. A" few | years since we happened to be riding in a I stage, where, among half a dozen pas i sengers, there was a Frenchman ahd an j Englishman. There seemed to be a cat i and-dog feeling bewteen them, for if one : opened his lips the' other was sure toi fly at | the observation with the teeth and daws iof a dispute. As we -were driving along,, j the Englishman spoke of a sheep lie had I seen in somp foreign land with a tail so j long as to drag upon the ground., There- I upon the Frenchman shrugged up his. | shoulders, curled his lip, lifted his eye , brows, and took a pinch of snuff. | “ What do you mean by that? ” ' said j the Englishman, not a little nettled at the 1 contemptuous air of his rival. | “-Vatdo I mean?” said the latter.— I “ I mean dat a sheap has not von tail at all.” “ A sheep’ haint got a tail, ha ?” said the Englishman. “ No: not von bit!” said the French- man. 44 Well, this comes of eating frogs,” said John Bull. 44 What can you expect of a man that eats frogs ? You Say a sheep hasn’t got a tail?” *■; “Pardon, monseur,” said the other, with a polite bow, yet with a very sneer ing expression, 44 1 say a sheep has rio tail —not von bit.” By this time the parties were greatly excited, and we cannot say what might have happened had not ond of the passen gers asked the Frenchman what he-meant by sheep. 44 Vat do I mean by sheep ? Vy I mean von large ting vit sails and vat goes upon the sea.” 44 Oh, oh !” said the Englishman, 44 you mean a ship.” 44 Yes monseur,” was the reply, 44 1 mean von sheep dat. has de captain, aind de Sailors, vat goes upon the waters.” 44 Very well, sir,” said the Englishman: “I mean a sheep—a creature with: four legs, covered with wool.” 44 Ah, you mean one sheep vit ze vool,” said the other. 44 Yes. yes, monseur, ze sheep vit ze vool has ze tail.” After this explanation the parties Shook hands. What is a Darling ? —lt is the dear, little, beaming girl who meets one on the doorsteps ,who flings her fair arms arbund one’s neck and kisses one with her whole soul of love; who seizes one’s hat, who relieves one of one’s coat, and hands the tea and toast so prettily ; who places her, elfish form at the piano, and warbles forth, unsolicited, such a delicious song; who casts herself at one’s footstool, and clasps one’s hands and asks eager, unheard-of questions, with such bright eyes and flush ing face; and on whose light, flossy curls one places one’s hand and breathes “ God bless her,” as the fair form departs. !'■ Share ox the Insurance. —Jacob Baker, of New Orleans, was a generation or two ago, a merchant in New York.— The reputation for shrewdness which he now bares is no late assumption, as those who had dealings with him well remember. The following story, it is believed,has never, until recntly, been in print: ; About the time referred to, which i was before the time of insurance companies, he applied to another Quaker named H—, who Was accustomed to insure individual policies, for insurance on a ship then home ward bound on a distant voyage. There were great doubts of the vessel’s safety, and the premium asked was probably higl ; and even with a large premium, H-t- did not wish to make the risk. However, he promised to consider the, matter, and, if satisfactory, tp sign the policy the next day. Early the next morning, Barker, sent him & note in the following words: “ Friend H—■ —, if thee has not signed the policy thee need not, for 1 have heard of the vessel.” H——, thinking the vessel was of course safe, hastily signed the policy and returned it with the messenger, with expressibnjs of regret that he could not undo the business. Barker had indeed heard of the vessel, and had heal’d that she was lost A Young Editor.: —In Penfield N. Y., there is § precious little.- girl of 12 years, who publishes a sprightly weekly paper, much of which is her own composition every line of which is set by her own fingers. She was bom on the 21st day of Novem ber, 1849. Her father an invalid and almost blind, was formerly a printer. 1 In this way she came into possession' of her type and press, Since the death of ; her mother she has supported her father; and three younger sisters by her talent; and industry. i ' or A nothero paper says an Irishman enlisted in ibe 76th regiment so as jobs heir bis brother who was in the 75th. EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS- A Knotty Text.— There was once an itinerant preacher in “ West Tennessee,” who, possessing considerable natural elo quence, had gradually become possessed of the idea that he was also an extraordina ry biblical scholar. Under this delusion, he would frequently at the dose of bia ser mons, ask any member of his congregation who might have a “ knoty text” to un ravel, to speak it, and he would explain it at once, however much it might Ifinre* troubled “less' distinguished divines.” On one occasion, in a large! audience, he was particularly pressing for some one to propound a text, but no one presuming to do so, he was about to sit down without an opportunity of showing “his learning,” when a chap “ back by the door” an nounced he had a Bible matter of great “ concern,” which he desired to be en lightened upon. The preacher, quite ani mated, professed his willingness and abili ty, and the congregation was in great ex citement. “ What I want to know," saidi the outsider, “is whether Job’s turkey was a hen or a gobbler?” The “ex pounder” looked <rnifpsed, and the con gregation tittered, sia the questioner capped the climax by exclaiming, in a loud voice, “ I fetched him down on the first ques tion !” From that time forward the prac tice of asking.for “ difficult passages” was abandoned. Whistling. —We believe in whistling —we love to do it end to hear it. The boy or man at the plow who whistles in dicates that he is contented, and he will plow more than your silent, grum one, who has no music in his soul or on his lips. The Albany Times is right when it says: “The man who don’t believe in whistling should go one step further, and put a muzzle on the bobolink and mock ing bird. Whistling is a great institution. It oils the wheels of care, and supplies the place of sunshine. A man that whistles has a good heart under his shirt front. Such a man not only works more willingly than other men, but he works more con stantly. A whistling cobbler will earn as much money again ns a cord digester. Mean and avaricious men never whistle. The man who attacks whistling throws a stone at the head of hilarity, and would if he could, rob June of -its roses and Au gust of its meadow larks. Such a man should' be looked to.” Save Bags, Paper Scraps, ect.— People should save their rags, scraps of paper, ect., as they are all of value now, and can be sold to advantage. If persons throughout the country were careful in this respect, the price of printing paper would in a measure be kept down. Boys can make their holiday money by attention to this matter. Old account books, by tak ing off the covers, envelopes, &c., can be sold. This is an important matter. Gambling. —Let every man avoid all sorts of gambling as he would poison. A poor man or boy should not allow him, self even to toss up for a half-penny, for this is often the beginning of the habit of gambling ; and this ruinous crime comes on by slow degrees. Whilst a man is minding his own work he is playing the best, game, and he is sure to win. A gambler never makes good use of his money, even if he should win. Rather Foxt. —-A Scotch paper speaks of a fox having been seen trying to spring a steel trap by means of a stick which he carried in his mouth. We know a fox that took the welt-pole from the well and pushed the turkey off from the lower limb of the tree with it, and put the pole back in its place. At least hi got the turkey', and the pole was found all right in .the morning. I ©■A negro preacher was holding forth one Sunday, and, in the course of bis re marks, said; V “Dere be two roads. De fust is a broad straight road leading to death and brimstone. The other is a straight and narrow road, leading to lull, fire and dam nation.” “If dem be de fact,” shouted Sambo, ■ rising from his seat,' “ dis yere nigger’s for 1 de woods.” A Horticulturist advertised that he would supply all kinds of trees and plants, especially ‘pie-plants of all kinds.’ A gentleman thereupon sent him an order for “one package of custard-pie seed, and a dozen mince-pie plants.” The gard ener promptly filled the order by sending him four goose eggs and a small dog. O' “ Father,” said a hopeful urchin to his paternal relative, “ why don’t oar schoolmaster send the editor of the news paper an aepount of the tannings he gives the boys ?” : “ I don’t know.” said the fond parent:.. “ but why do you ask such *, queattenl’’ “ Why. the paper says that Mr. Brcrpt has tanned dine thousand hides at tna establishment daring the past year, and I knot? that old Fumey has tanned, our hides more 1 n twice as many times the editor onght to khow it” • .-i NO. 43.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers