ifMmosL •~ttr-:* ■ • ?,p*. devoted to &&sssa*& P^^SSiJSs g.sW»«K?«ytf> «ad fl«E; B^ssag^i fp.MlfMal)ii|, SdB»»Z r BtSsf^Ssttei?' |&S3Kg3& IjSasagß^ I *ad manTtook, P-T] ** K-s 3* 11/s I. M ~ *3 *5; a » I W a ? ySS *: Oj S. '^‘Bsi -9 I 2111 I S i|?i s f §Mlt mm ;|IM mm •ig^ll til i BTt-tS AND BAKEBY! RSIGNBD ANNOUS • of Altoona and vicinity that he ■eraoNAßiea nets, spices Wile-ejtuyeaaly for the Holidays. ■««*» on hand a goodalock of plain KJWn mannfactnre. . •ONES, RAISINS, &C. •saadna of thayear. Sugar* Molasses, BnUer. WHITE WHEAT FLOUR. EpODR, CORK MEAL, AC. ■finite In term or amall quantities, pride my aloek and yon-will Bad la any in town. JACOB WISE, - TIONERY STEK SALrOON, iCRIBKII’ WOULD IX- *n»pf Altoona and vicinity that hU .MJT and FKCIT STORE, Ualwsj. 9 Mat articles to be hud, And itrgrcat Jan 1 SR SALOON , ia (Whkh lie will serve up OTBTEES ! \ BJSJSAJ) c£ PIES oUoays on hand. PPpwtta supply cafcefl* candles, ic., irtiee. He invitee a share of public £he can render foil satisflurtion to land wioon i* on Tirefafa>tt*et.tvD *aJ»- OTTO BOBSI. 8-W INGER’S sews Agency, No. 7, MAIN STREET »OKS. BLANK BOOKS, CONFECTIONARIES i Sc TOBACCO, »NSIN GEEA? VARIETY tXfIX OS BAND. >YD & CO., - ALTOONA, AL 'N, JACK & CO., ' BOLLmATSBCItO, PA STEERS, : Jahtulon, Jadc^Co”) m Tfiß iPJBINGIPAL rer]«nd -BltA€Tl€ tinrfnrw, and *6^55^% « una ' agajgggjgs^ police g-azett®'"" nf- flflSMiflMfifc*' •* fSajfiSS^" ssifer r°4«n<to. fDS WX)^IJ)JS£ «fr-«?W are B ! 0 ” mm: Ipp:*. McCRUM & DERN, VOL. 7 THE ALTOONA TRIBUNE U- C: BKRN PUBUBHBRB ASB PROPEIITORS. . , payable invariably in advance,) $1,60. Vr'.-ii-cf' li"continueii at the expiration of the time ,1 j'.T W.« i «- » » 40 *' .mi*- ; s line*) -*0 I 00 " ' (10 il ) 1 00 1 50 2 00 . ,04 - J .. 1 50 3 00 v 2 50 ’“"Jr three week* and lew (ton three month*, 26 cent* for each inwtlop: ’’ r 1 Smooth*. 0 month*. 1 year ,|''i so $ s oo $ 5 oo . 2 50 4 00 7 00 . 4 00 6 00 10 00 . 5 00 S 00 12 00 6 00 10 00 14 00 ’. 10 00 14 00 20 00 lum“ '.46 00 40 00 6M uaracter or IndiVidual in. will be eliar-ted according to the chore rate*. • VlvertUemen ,* not marked with the number of ln»er .ieiired. will be continued till forbid and charged no- Hincr t.. tho shore term*. r notices five cents per line for every in*ertlon. Obituary notice exceeding ten line* «fty cent* a aqna f iiiK* ur ♦a* i‘*o r-; r t?« BALTIMORE LOCK HOSPITAL tNt4»US««O ASA REFUGE FROM QUACKEttIT faa Only Place Where a Cure Can 1 be Obtained. ' , L » vll JOHNSON has discovered the ■ } !u .„t Certain. Speedy and only Effectual oVwnrld for all Private Disease., W eakness of i Strictur,-.. Affections ol the Kidneya and Blad- Discharges. Impoiency. General Deldlity. v a«nt--i. Dyupcpiiv. Languor. Low bpint*. Confusion .Vu.".,T'«U.itttlon of the" Heart. Tim.dity, TremWinw, , „f Sieht or Giddiness. Disease of the Head. , V-.,,.. .."skill. Affection. the Liver. Lungs. Stoin -1 "■i,\»vi.ltlio«e Terrible disorders arising from the . ' iurv Habits of Youth-those secret and solltaryqirac . .. mir ,. fatal to theii victims than the song of ..yrens to Mariners of Ulysses, blighting their most brilliant i,- or anticipation!!, rendering myriage .Ac , impossi- YOUNG MEN , llv w ho have become thp victims of Solitary > ice. ,Jtt‘r--idfu! mid dentuctive habit which annually sweeps ■ ! .I'/uiitiiiifly glare thousand* of Young Men pfth« most v r,h- A t il••utf* and brilliant jiit.-Uect. who might othei i . t v entranced listening Senates with tb* thunders ..r waked to ectasy the living lyre, may call > \]< tail confidence marriage , . 'lirrifl P-reom. "r Young M>-n cotemplatins niurtiage, ,av;.r.' ~f physical trcmkoi**. organic iWuiity. debt i-.. --pet-diU cun-.L „,, , ‘i- All.. hinn-ll under Lh- cure uf Dr. J. may re ,-i .U.lv cn!i.l- in his lionur us u gentleman, and -conn* i-.-iiv n lv uniui Ills skill as u liliysiciiin. ORGANIC WEAKNESS i lim-.liiu-lv Cunnl. mill full Vigor Itestorcil. _ T.ii- Di-tressiiig Affection—wliich rrrulers Lif- imserulile ml rriu S e impossiliU—i* tin- neUHlty puitl by lh.- »-etim* of improper 4«liils«np-s. .Young [.'r,cns are to ,i ■ , - nninil exres es from inn being nwnie of the drc.nl iil i .useijil-noos that may ensu-. Now. who that under : mi, the subject will pretend to .b uy that the power of .. r-uli -n is lost's-i ini-r bv those falling into improper ~l„l, than by tin- prudent? Besides being deprived the -asm-os of healthy, offspring, the most serious and ‘if -T-.i-iiV symptoms to both body and mind arise. The system hecmies Deranged, the Physical and .Mental func- I'.ina Weakened. Loss recreative Power, V-rsous lir.- t ibility. Dyspepsia, Palpitation of the Heart. Indigestion -institutional Debility, a Wasting ofthe frame. Cough, .uismcpiioii. Decay and Death. OFFICE. NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET. i ..!■ »inn.| from Baltimore street, a few doois n.m the* -MHUT. Fail not nanv* and ni "" hv * L'tc-T- must b- paid and contain* stamp. The Doc •irVDmlomus hang in his office A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS, V, Mercury or *V««o«r Drug*. DR. JOHNSON. , ’vi i •[••mbc-r of the Royal College of Surgeons, London, Urad ial- from one oUhe most eminent Colleges in thpiUnlted and the greater part of whose life has been isf*ent In Mi-- hospitals of Lsndon. Paris, Philadelphia and eh»e -Tht-rf, has effected some of the most astonishing cure* :tnt wiTe ever known; raanv troubled with ringing in the and ears when asleep, great nervousness, being darnied at sudden sounds, bashfolness. with frequent Mushing, attended sometimes with derangement of mind -0 re cured immediately. TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE Dr. J. addresses all those who have injured them»«Uee ;>v impropeir; Indulgence and solitary habits, which ruin h-.th b hly and mind, unfitting them for either business. ,:adv. society or marriage. , „ These are some of tlje sad and melancholy effects pro likM by carlv habits of youth, viz: Weakness of: tUf ll.uk and Limbs, Pains iu.lho .Head, Dimness of night. !. .•*> uf Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart, pys- P*mv. Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Dlge»- :iv r Functions, Genet*! Debility, Symptoms of Conswnp 1 Mentally. —The fearful effects of the mind are modh to •• dreaded—L»«s of Memory, Confusion of Ideas,. De- of spirits,.Evil-Forebodings, Aversion to Society. '••If-DUtrusL Love of Solitude, Tiraidit), are some of me evils produced. . • „ {c TaocSANDR of persons of all ages can now j ndge what is ih» cause of their declining health, losing their vigor, be aming weak, pale, nervous and emulated, having a sin gular appearance about the eyes, cough and symptom* ol v.ngumption YOUNG MEN . vYUo Ikftve Injured themselves by a certain practice ip* lulz«d in when alone, a habit frequently learned from vii companions, or at school, the effects uf •a’htlv felt, even when asleep, and if not cured 'QarrUga and destroys both mind and bpdy. diould apply immediately. - What a pity that*‘young man, the hope of his country. ih. darling of his parent#, should bo snatched from all prospects and enjoyments of life, by the consequence o ■b rUiiuir from the path of nature, and indulging .in a . :*rtaln secret habit. Such persons MUST, before cohteip plating • . MARRIAGE. reflect that a f*oun»l mind Mini bmly are the most to promote connuJjiHl happiness. Indeed, -wltli out these, the journey through life becomes a weary.pll primage; the prospect hourly darkens to the riewj the mio«l becomes shadowed vrith despair and filled with the n» ,‘laocholy reflection that the happiness ot another be* ‘‘■•men blighted with our dwn. DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE. ]■ When the misguided and Imprudent votary of plwure and* that he has imbibed the seeds of this painful cus it too often happens that an 111-timed sense of shatne, >r dread of discovery, deters him from applying to ;fboae «h », from education and respectability, can alone bp fii-ud him. delaying till the constitutional symptoms of triis horrid disease make their appearance, such as ulcera te I wre throatvdiseased nose, nocturnal pain s in the head aad limbs, dimness of sight, deafness, nodes on the Shin b-jues and arms, blotches on the head, and cxtteml progressing- with frightful rapidity, till at last the palate of the'mouth or the bones of the nose fall In» and the victim of this awfurdisease becomes a horrid object of HumUeratlbn, till death puts a period to his dreadful 'ufferings, by sending him to “ that Undiscovered Country from whence no traveller/returns” „ . . . It Is » mdancholu fact that thousands fall victims to tu-<j t**rrible disease, oUdog to the anskillfulness of|gno* ’.'Uit prrt'mders, who,.»3fJtbe use of that Deadly Fpttoiu ruitTthe constitution and make the residue of Uff mineable. ■ 1,1 • ' r.StRANGERS , _ Trust not health to the cfire ,of the way I’nlearned’ and Wort&Afi& Pretender*, destitute of knowl- Mire. n;ime or char«r»ft| Wlv> copy I>r. Johnaton’fljMver tis-meiin. or atvlo thpnwelves, in the newspaper®*; regu larly Educated Physician®. incapable of Coring, they keep yon trifling month . after'morith, taking their fluky anq {iolionona compounds, or as lone as the smallest fee can obtained, and in despair, leave you with ruined health to sigh over yonr gallingidUappointmeut. I>r. Juhniton is the only Physician advertising. Hia credential or diplomas always hang in his office, Uw remedies or treatment are unknown to all others, prepared from a life spent In the great hospitals of JSurope, th® first in the country and a more extensive Private JprM* h’ce than any other Physician in the world. , L indorsement of THE PRESS. : The many thousands cured at this institution. y«tf after year, and the numerous important Surgical operations performed by Johnston, witnessed by the reporter* jof the ‘-Sun,” Clipper, 5 ’ and many -other papers, notices of which have appearedlagain and again before the ipnbllC, besides hisstanding m a gentlemen of character and ro* iponslbiUty, is a sufficient guarantee to the afflicted. ; v SKIN DISEASES SPEEDILY CURED h o letters received, unless post-paid and containing a stampto be nsedonthe reply persons writing shook! slate •|®*nd send portion of advertisement describing symptoms Person* writing should be particular in directing their Utters to this Institution, in the following manner.?: JOHN M. JOHNSTON. M. 6., Of th. Baltimore Lock Hoipiul, Herjl. A 0 ttlic Aitoomi Irilmnt f EKM* or ADVSfcTiSIHO 2 do. 3 do.' 1 insertion ibe mdse’s §ctm. THE CARRIER'S AHITUAL ADDRESS TO THE FRIENDS & PATRONS or THE AlUom Tpibaae. Kind patrons, did von hearthat alarm last night? It startled me up in a wild affright— Twas the dread alarm of that creating old bell That rings for each year a funeral knell. 1 was sleeping sweetly in my room alone. When, mingling its sound with a wail and a groan, Its notes so discordantly fell on my ear, That—although a bravelad—l trembled with fear; And gazing around 'mid the darkness so dread, I beheld what seemed like a ghost from the dead, With a face all ]xtllid, and deep linos of care, And long bony fingers, hnd snowy-white hair. A moment I gazed then much calmer I grow. For that face so pallid I very well knew. And, thongh now he no longer seemed in his prime Yet I could ; not mistake—'twas old Father Time, That same dear old friend, who oft mot me in yore, But more pallid and sad than ever before; More trembling his form and more gloomy hi- mien, More tattered his garb than I ever had seen ; A tear-drop seemed starting afresh from his eve. ““And fond hopes” he said “are bonf only to die.” “All! how fondly I hoped on last New-Year's day, That fair Sixty-two, then so youthful and gay, In mera’ry might stand, when she had long gone, With much less of gloom than the year Sixty-one. That hope from my brow, took the sadness it bore When that dear one had gone t’return never more And then, Oh! howfcfondly I clasped to my breast The new-given year, that I hoped would be bless'd— Blesa'd with th' bright dawnings of plenty & peace; Bless'd with th’ glad hour when war's havoc should cease. I watched for this as her life sped away; j 1 watched at the morn and the close of each day; i Swift, I saw her dark wintry hours passing by, : And in Spring-time the sun painting life on her sky: j Then I saw her put on her bright robes ot green— j A garment more lovely than that of a queen — And X wove in her hair midth' first summer show'rs A beautiful garland of Earth's fairest tlow’rs. And then wrapp’d around her in plenteous fold A harvest adorned with the richness of gold. Over all the mantle of Autumn I threw. | The forest all tinted—the sky bright and blue; j Vet with all this lustre, this beauty aud pride, I Sixty-two with sorrowful visage has died— Aye! has laid her down in her brown leafy bed, Is numbered with those that forever are dead." Thus he spake; and again he said with a sigh— “ The fond hopes of earth are born only to die." , Just then he turned to pass out at my door. But I asked him to stay and converse with me more. He shook his white head and he answered me “ No, But if more you fvould hear, with me yon must go.” So I drew on my coat and button’d if tight. And journeyed with him mid the giooiß of the night, Across the dark- heath, away over the stream. I went, half awake andiialf in a dream. Until we at last, In the dark forest drear, Stood side by side with the corpse of; the year. And there as we stood in the silence and gloom Beside the dead year's dark and newly made tomb, With faltering accents Old Time said to me: “ Now hear what vou mar and see what you can see.” - • - . i . -. And thus he continued to talk to me there While on his brow, deeper grew each line of care: “My dear child that is gone—the dead Sixty-two To each one was.kind—to each one was true. She gare to the sad both a smile and a tear, And she gave to the weary glad words of cheer; She scattered the sunshine throughout her brief hours, ' J And she brought in her: hands bright boquets of flowers. Yet what contrasted sounds have greeted the ear In the days that are gone., of the fond old year! On contrasted scenes has she gazed with her eye, Ere she laid her down on her brown ,conch to die. She has heard blessed words in the; temple of God As men dwelt in his love, or bow’d ,‘neath his rod; She has beard words of cursing, fearful to tell— Words which were born in the dark vaults of hell; And she has heard mirthful songs, passing by, In bright halls where wine-cops Were sparkling high, And ’mid scenes of glee where the gay bridal throng All united in strains of gladness and song; And she has heard'the cry that ha 4 gone abroad From the altar-stone of the living God, When the walls of Zion seemed ready to fall. And sin o’er her beauty drew a dafk pall. She has heard the wind at the opting of day As it brushed the dew from the grass away; She has .heard the fierce shriek of jwikl despair As it rent with anguish the darkened air; And she has heard the shouts of wild.delight As to the homeward bound, land same in sight; She has heard the cry of horror and dread As the vessel’s freight joined the sheeted dead, When the stormy sky and the briny foam Watched o’er and wrapp’d them in their long, last home; She has heard sweet songs of the “ Shining Shore”— And th’ musketry rattle and the cannon roar; : And, falling to sleep with her own parting breath, ’ She has heard deep moans from-the pule lips'of death. She looked on th’darkness when night held its sway, Nor slept while aWaiting th’ approach of th’ day; She has seen in her course the dawning of morn When the day from the womb of this night was bom j She has looked on the Snn shedding forth his light When painting the Earth so gorgeously bright; She looked on die robes pale Winter had spread When nature seemed almost to sleisp with the dead; She saw Earth again awake from its sleep, Smiling with joy or with gladness to weep; ALTOONA, PA., TUESDAY, JANUARY 6, 1863. She has seen the flowers in bright beauty bloom I But were I the hist ry of last year to write. And decay, then carry tjhem back to the tomb; j When a thousand pages were unroll'd to your sight, She has «*n joy’s fountain in purity flow, ; I still would hate use for my pages and pen, While happiness brilliatW lighted the brow; j For the history still would be imperfect then. She has seen the desert* d while tears dimm’d her j Bet us fondly hope and pray unto God, sight ' That soon He will raise his chastening rod ; Still watching in vain 'mid the gloom of the night; j Cause war, with its horrors and havoc to cease. Honest toil she has seen retire to its rest, ! And shed o’er Sixty-three bright beams of peace. . While the head but a pillow of strew has press’d; | But, friends, do not wait till that joyous time come And designing rogues, near by, she has known, jl° pay U P the printer and gladden his home— Besting bn satin—but aias! not their own; 1 And Oh! don’t mix my bright hours with alloy, The soldier has slept ojthe cold moist ground, |By entirely forgetting the CARRIER BOY. And contractors on beds neath blankets were found! | Jamahv Ist, 1863 But snch scenes as these have often before Mark’d years that have jone to return never more. But ah! scenes much me re mournful—scenes much more dread Have marked the last year as onward it sped ; Th’ political, sky has beau clouded all o’er, And the setts of conflict Itave seemed without shore; Nations upheaving-bn bvery hand, And governments toppling, while thrones merely stand, And the God that created can only know What next may occur—where fall the next blow. In our once happy land, the brightest and best On which did the Sun's gAlen beams ever rest. The clouds have been gathering more fearful to view— Reverses 100 numerous—successes too few. When the vo;i r Sixty-two was tirst ushered in, Wc hoped ere its close co hear the host din Of the contiie; which tjhen drenched the fields in red gore: We hoped that war’s evils would all have pass'd o'er; And successes there were which seemed to throw light All over the clouds of treason’s dark night. Fort Donelson fell, but loyal men bled, And many, ah I many, were found with the dead; And Old Floyd, who's been stealing this many a day, Thought best to steal his own carcass away 1 He left Gen'rul Buckner to do a< he could, But as for himself, he did as he would.' The next thing of note was at Isle Number Ten, Where Pope captured glms, ammunition and men. Like at Babylon once—they there turned aside The w aters that How injiin on-rushing tide, And nnule it, an instrument mightily strong. To forward the work Of! Freedom along. At Winchester, too, we the battle-field gained. But with many hearts saddened —many garbs stained. j Then Pea Ridge in history first wrote its name, j And gave to its heroes a world-wide fame. * At Shiloh again the contest we won, Bnt 'twas only by deeds of valor twas done. For thousands had sunk- with an upheaving sigh— The dead ones to sleep, and thq wounded to die. And Yorktown, that spot in our history so dear, Was the scene of a convict within th’ last year. McClellan then before Richmond sat down. While his deep-mouth’d guns in anger did frown ; But malaria swept through his camps its fierce tide, And warriors un-lain. from diseases there died. Till disappointment did his plans disarrange, And he was compelled his position to change. Seven days did he fall most skillfully back, But crimson ami gore was left in his track. Aye! there thousands fell, from their homes far away — No mothers to soothe and no fathers to pray. Fort Jackson, Fort Phillips and New Orleans fell, Anti Butler threw over) the “ Crescent ” a spell, For in th’ proud city he made proclamation Which created a noise all over the nation; But still, all unmoved, (the old hero stands forth And battles his foes both in South and the North. At Roanoke Island Burnside was best. Although in a very rough garb he was dress’d ; He led his men forth in battle array, And Wise thought it best to hasten away. Banks down Virginia’:! fair vale did retreat. Lest, outnumliered, he there might suffer defeat. Rapidly backward his movement he made, j Vet many were left in death lowly laid, From their homes far away, on Virginia’s plain, On the many red fields where were heaped up the slain. -Both Corinth and Bull Run were re-bathed in blood— The first with success, the last not so good! We were forced again with reluctance to yield, And fell back from Bull Run’s twice crimsoned field. Then Rebellion, lifting its Satanic form, , - Determined fair Liberty’s Temple to storm. With haste they cross’d over Potomac's swift tide, And landed their troops on the Maryland side; \ They threatened the Keystone to pluck from the arch, it, if you’ll give me a quart o’ beer a day as long as I’m in the mills—you’ll save that ten.” Mr. Peel rather thought he should, and quickly agreed to the terms. “ You shall have it Dick.” “ Well, then,” said Dick, first looking cautiously round to see that no one was near—“ this it be,” and putting his lips close to Mr. Peel’S ear, he whispered ; “Chalk your bobbins!” That was indeed the great secret. Dick i had been in the habit of furtively chalk -1 ing his bobbins; which simple contrivance had effectualy prevented the adherence of I the cotton. As die bobbins were white, ; the chalking had escaped detection. Mr. Peel was a sagacious man, and saw through the affair at glance. He at ; once patented the invention, had “ chalk | ing” machinery contrived, and soon took i the lead in the cotton spinning depart i ment. This was the foundation of his ' princely fortune. It is but right to add ing waves, , i that he pensioned off Dick handsomely, And many bravo hearts on her deck found their gram;: e How the Mcrrimac then was encompass’d around, And in th’ same wat'r i shroud a resting place fonnd. And straight into Boston their legions to march 1 But “Mac” was sent out their divisions to meet, And he made them back to Virginia retreat— But not till Antietara was written in gore I On history’s page for time ever more. j Then into Pennsylvania Stewart made a dash, j With movement as brave as to us it seemed rash; I And as the militia bad all marched away, A few of our towns Under tribute did lay, 1 “Little Mac” was removed and Burnside com- | mands, i And soon the surrender of Pred’ric demands! | i But rebellion was yet junwilling to yield, | And hotly with Burnside contested the field. ‘ Brave battle was done on that blood-crimsom’d plain, i But efforts were spent and blood shed in vain. ! Great discussion arose on whom blame should fall, I But Burnside has nobly taken it all. | On the water, the Merrimac's deeds I might tell, ; How the Monitor met her, timely and well; ■ How the Lawrence went down ’mid the dark rnsh- fINDEPENDENT IN EVERYTHING.] frtwt f||is«Uanj». Every one knows that Sir Robert Peel, father of the late Prime Minister of Eng land, and grandfather of the present bar onet. made his money by cotton-spinning. 1 n the early part of his career his business was not remarkable extensive, but sud denly he made a tremendous start, and soon distanced all bis rivals. He grew immensely rich, as we all know, but we do not ail know the lucky accident to which he tVas indebted for his enormous wealth. In the early days of cotton-spinning ma chinery, a great deal of trouble used to be caused by filaments of cotton adhering to the bobbins or tapes, which then formed portions of the looms. These filaments accumulating, soon clogged the wheels and other parts of the machinery, and ren dered it necessary that they should be cleared, which involved frequent stoppages and much Joss of time. The great desideratum was to find out some plan of preventing this clogging by the cotton, and Sir Robert, or Mr. Peel, as he then was, spent vast sums in expe riments. He employed some of the ablest machinists in the kingdom—among them James Watt —who suggested various cor rections, but in spite of all they could do, the inconvenience remained—the cotton would adhere to the bobbins, and the evil appeared to be insurmountable. Of course these delays seriously affected the wages of the operatives, who, on Sat urdays, generally came short in proportion to the stoppages during the previous days. ! It was noticed, however, that one man I always drew his full pay—his work was 1 always accomplished—in fact, his loom never had to stop, while every other in the factory was idle. Mr. Peel was in formed of this, and knew there must be a secret somewhere. It was important that it should be discovered, if possible. The man was watched but all to no purpose; his fellow-workmen tried to “ pump” him, but they couldn’t; at last Mr. Peele sent for the man into his pri vate office. He was a rough Lancashire man —un- able to read or write—little better than a mere animal. He entered the “ Presence” pulling his forelock ; and shuffling on the ground with his great clumsy wooden shoes. “ Dick,” said Mr. Peel, “ Ferguson, the overlooker, tells me that your bobbins are always clean—is that so !” “Ee’s, Master, ’t be.’.’ “ Well, Dick, how do you manage it— have you any objection to let me knowt” “ Why, Master Pill, ’t be a soart o' loike, ye see, and if oi told, t’others'd know’s much as oi,” replied Dick, with a cunning grin. “Of course, Dick, I’d give you some thing if you’ll tell me—and if you can make all the looms in the factory work as smoothly as yours.” “ Ev’ry one’n them, Master Pill.” “ Well, what shall I give you ? Name your price, Dick, and let me have your secret.” Dick grinned, scratched and shook his great head, shuffled for a few minutes, while Mr. Peel anxiously awaited his re ply. The cotton lord thought his servant would probably ask a hundred pounds or so, which he would most willingly have given him. Presently Dick said: “ Well, Master Pill, I’ll tell ’ee all about Boldness with discretion securethan ultimate success. ‘ CHALK YOKE BOBBINS ” MAEY MALONEY'S idea of a LOVEB. “ What are you singing for t” said I to Mary Maloney. “ Oh, I don’t know ma’am, without its because my heart feels) happy.” “ Happy are you, Maty Maloney ? Let me see, you don’t own a foot of land in the world.” “ Foot of Land is itt” she cried, with a hearty Irish laugh. “Oh what a hand ye be after joking! why, I haven’t a penny, let alone the land.” “ Yoifr mother is dead.” “ God rest her soul, yes,” replied Mary Maloney with a touch of the genuine pathos. “ May the angels make her bed in heaven.” “Your brother is still a hard case, I suppose.” “Ah, you may well say that It is nothing but drink, drink, and.beating Ms poor wife, that she is poor creature.” “ You have to pay your sister’s board.” “ Sure, the bit creature, and she is a good little girl, is Hinner, willing to do whatever I axes her; I don’t grudge the money that goes for that." “You haven’t many fashionable dresses, either, Mary Maloney?” “ Fashionable, is it? Oh, I put a piece of whalebone in my skirt, and the calico gown looks as big as the great ladies. But then ye say true, I haven’t but two gowns to me back, two shoes to me feet, and one bonnet to me head, baring the old hood ye gave me.” “ You haven’t any lover, Mary Ma- loney ?” “Oh be off wid ye!—ketch Mary Ma loney getting a lover these days when the hard times is come. No, thank hoav on, I ain’t got that to trouble me yet. Nor I don’t want it.” “ What on earth, then, have you got to make you happy? A drunken brother, a poor helpless sister, no mother, no father, no loyer—why, where do you get all your happiness from ? “ The Lord be praised, miss, it growed up in me. Give me a bit of sunshine, a clean dure, and I'm made. That makes me laugh and sing. And then if deep troubles come, why, God helpin’ me. I’ll try to keep my heart up. Sure it would be a sad thing if Patrick McGuire should take it into his head to ax me, but the Lord willin’ I’d try to bear up under it.” The last speech upset my gravity.— The idea of looking upon a lover as an affliction was so droll. But she was evi dently sincere, having the example of her sister’s husband and her drunken brother. HOW HE GOT HIS WIFE. John W was, or is, a genius.— He made quite a pile in the Mexican war, and invested it in a canal boat running on the Ohio Canal. John was a batehelor, but in course of time was smitten by the little god. An old farmer, who lived in the “ heal” path, near Masillon, had two rosy-cheeked daughters, but all attempts to gain an introduction by their admirers, were foiled by the old man. But John was nut discouraged. A large chunk of beef bought off the mastiff, and John pro ceeded to deliberately appropriate the va rious articles hanging bn the clothes line. Chemizetts and stockings, breeches, shirts and things were crowded in inglorious confusion into the capacious bag earned by John pn this occasion. They were brought aboard the boat and placed in the l> bow cabin,” to pave the way for an in troduction on the return trip. A week after the boat passed the farm house on its way south; and John jumped ashore and went to the house. He rep resented that one of his drivers had stolen the clothing V that he had discharged him, and desired to restore the articles. The ladies were delighted, as the sack con tained all their “ Sunday fixings,” The old man said: “ 1 always thought that all the boatmen would steal; and I am delighted to find one honest one. You must call, again, captain/’ The captain did call again, and soon after married the “youngest.” On the wedding night, he told his wife the rwehe had used to gain an introduc tion, and the old man gave orders that no more clothing should be left * out o’ nights.’ A Clever Chap,— A gentleman from the country, stopping at one of the hotels in Cincinnati, entered into conversation* with one of the boarders, asking questions about the fere, etc. After a tew minutes’ conversation, the boarder drew his cigar case, saying—■ “ Will you take a cigar, sir f” “ Well,-I don’t mind if I do,” was the reply. The cigar was handed to him; also the one which our boarder was smbking, for the purpose of giving him light. He carefully placed the cigar first handed him in his pocket, and took his knife and cut off the end of the lighted one which had been in the month of his friend, and com mjenced smoking, saying—’ “It ain’t often a man from the country runs afoul of as clever a fellow in the city as you arc.” EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. A KIND ACT AND ITS REWARD. The Cleveland fkmdeakr sketches an incident that lately occurred on one of the railroads running through Ohio. The sketch is interesting though it is imper sonal : The car is fall of weQ-dreesed aristo cratic passengers. 'The; conductor enters, and proceeds to collect the accustomed fare. Presently he comes to a lady in deep mourning, traveling with three chil dren, and calls tor her ticket The lady quickly pots her hand in her pocket for the same, but it was gone, with the wallet ’’'containing all her money, within which the ticket had been placed for safe, keep ing, The ladyis of an exceedingly modest, retiring disposition, and in an agitated manner explains why she cannot pay the fare. The conductor is one of your hard hearted kind—one of those men without a particle of feeling—and without taking into consideration any of the palliating circumstances of the case, rung the bell, stopped the train, and the young woman and her little ones were ordered from the car. The engineer had not, been ah un interested spectator of the scene. He had left the engine and advanced to where "the lady was standing, looking so distressed and friendless. The engineer had a big warm heart. Patting his hand in his pocket he produced a fifty dollar gold piece, and handing it to the lady, remarked: “ Here, madam, take this and get into the car. It is shameful that you should be thus treated.” The lady hesitated about receiving it,, but was in 4 desperate strait; and after showering numberless thanks on the noble engineer, insisted on receiving his .name and address. She then returned to her seat in the car, and went on her way. About a month from this time the en gineer received a note requesting him to call at the express office, and take from thence a package addressed to him. He ! did so. Upon opening the package he found it contained fifty dollars and qn ele gant gold watch, seals and chain, Upon the inside of the case was inscribed the Golden Rule,' the substance of which is, “To do unto others as ye would wish others to do unto you.” A HEAVY OFFICES. The otlier day, coming in from Mil waukee, Olin was conductor of the train, which bore, besides a large load of passen gers, a gold-laced chap belonging to Pope’s staff. He was a dapper little fellow, with style, but he couldn’t rest at ease. As the conductor was passing through the cars, said Mr. Staff Officer: “ Look heah, conducts w! I paid for a first-class caw! purchased a first-class tick et, and want a better caw than this to ride in!” “ This is a first-class ear, sir.” “Well, I don’t see it 1 This is a second class caw. I have tunneled!” “ Did you ever see a second-class car cushioned and carpeted—occupied by gen tlemen and ladies, before 1” - “ Don’t know—but I want two seats— these are all fast, so 1 can’t turn them. It is not a first-class caw.” “■Who are yon, sir?” “laiponeof Gen. Pope’s sir!” ? “ Well, sir, I am sorry you are not pleased. Had the Bailroad Company known yon were craning, yon should have had a new car built expressly for you— with something very toft to lean your bead on. If you don’t like this train, I will let you step off and wait for a Jirst-clasa caw —which will be on the next freight!” This being a staff officer is a big thing —where a fellow can take style, and draw more pay than blood. —La Crosse Demo crat. Luminous. —“ He made a few desultory remarks,” said the schoolmaster. Mrs. Partington stopped suddenly in the bustle she was making around the table for tea, and gazed over her specks thoughtfully at him. Leaning on a plate edgewise, as if to enforce her views by the support it gave her, “I suppose it was because be was weak,” said she; “but Ayre’s pills will cure him. I never knew ’em to fail. They are very solitary in such., cases.”: “ Really, madam,” replied hie, “Icannot guess your meaning.” “ You said dysentery,” said she, laying down the plate and putting a spodn in the preserves. “I said desultory,” said he, smiling; “quite a different thing.” “No matter,” said she, looking up in time to box Ike’s ears, who. was putting paper down the chimney of the kerosene lamp. “The pills are good for both 1 dare say, for they cure almost all the dis eases in the cornucopia^ 9* “ My son,” said Spriggles, senior, to Spriggles,junior, thinking to enlighten the boy on the propagation of the hen species, “my son, do you know that chickens come put of eggs!” “Do theyl” said Sprigglee, junior, “ I thought eggs came put of chickens.” Thus ended the first lesson.' . «i>We sbould entertain no thoughts which we would blush at in words. / NO. 47.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers