lb; fjSiflford jfttquiw is PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, On JULIANA ST., opposite the Mengal House, BEDFORD, BEDFORD CO., FA. TERMS: •2.00 a year if paid strictly in advance, $2.25 if not paid within three months, $2.50 if not paid within the year. RATES OF ADVERTISING. Onesquare,eneinsertion...., SI.OO One square, three insertions 1.50 Each additional insertion less than 3 months, 50 3 months. 6 months. 1 year. One sqnare $ 4.50 $ 0.00 SIO.OO Two squares 0,00 * 9.00 10.00 Three squares 8.00 12.00 20.00 Half column 18.00 25.00 45.00 One column 30.00 45.00 SO.OO Administrators and Executors' notices, $3.00. Auditors' notices, if under 10 lines, $2.00; if orer 10 lines, $2.50. Sheriffs's sales, $1.75 per tract. Ta ble work, double the above rates; figure work 25 per cent, additional. Estrays, Cautions and Noti ces to Trespassers, $2.00 for three insertions, if not above ten lines. Marriage notices, 50 cts. each, payable iu advance. Obituaries over five lines in length, and Resolutions of Beneficial Associations, at half advertising rates, payable in advance. Aunouncements of deaths, gratis. Notices in edi torial column, 15 cents ner line. deduc tion to advertisers of Patent Medecines, or Ad vertising Agents. „ grofoirtgnal & ffarflg. TTTORXEYS AT LAW. JOHN T. KEAGY, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA., Will promptly attend to all legal business entruxt ed to his care. Will gire special attention to claims against the Government. Office on Juliana street, formerly occupied by Hon. A. King. aprll:'6s-*ly. ESPY M. ALSIP, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA., Will faithfnlly and promptly attend to all busi ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin iug counties. Military claims, Pensions, back pay, Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with Mann A Spang, on Juliana stresC, 2 doors south of the Mengel House. apll, 1844.—tf. M. A. POINTS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Respectfully tenders his professional services to the public. Office with J. W. Lingenfelter, Esq., on Juliana street, two doors South of the "Mengle House." Dec. 9, 1864-tf. JOHN LUTE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, And regularly licensed agent for the collection of Government claims, bounties, hack pay, pensions, Ac., will give prompt attention to all business en trusted to his care. Office with J. R. Durborrow, Esq-, on Juliana Street, Bedford Pa. August 19th, 1864.—tf. JR. DURBORROW, . ATTORMBT AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Office one door south of the ''Mengel House."— Will attend promptly to all business intrusted to his care. Collections made on the shortest notice.— Having, also, been regularly licensed to prose cute Claims against the Government, particular attention will be given to the eolleotion of Milita ry claims of all kinds; Pensions, Back Pay, Boun ty, Bounty Loans, Ac. Bedford, epr. 8,1864 —tf. IMMELL AND LINGENFELTER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Have formed a partnership in the practice of the Law Offica on Juliana Street, two doors South of the Mengel House, aprl, 1864—tf. JOHN MOWER, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BEDFORD, PA. April 1,1864.—tf. DENTISTS. C. H. J- O. HIRRICH, JR. DENTISTS, BEDFORD, PA. Office in the Bank Building, Juliana Street, All operations pertaining to Surgical or Me chanical Dentistry carefully and faithfully per formed and warranted. TERMS CASH. jan6'6s-ly. DENTISTRY. I. N. BOWSER, RBSIDEST DESTIST, WOOD BBRRT, PA., will spend the second Monday, Tues day, and Wednesday, of each month at Hopewell, the remaining three days at Bloody Run, attend ing to the duties of his profession. At all other times he can be found in his office at Woodbury, excepting the last Monday and Tuesday of the same month, which he will spend in Martinsburg, Blair county, Penna. Persons desiring operations should call early, as time is limited. Ail opera tions warranted. Aug. 5,1864,-tf. PHYSICIANS. DR. B. F. HARRY, Respectfully tenders his professional ser vices to the citixens of Bedford and vicinity. Office and residence on Pitt Street, in the building formerly occupied by Dr. J. H. Hofius. April 1, 1864—tf. JL. MARBOURG, M. D., . Having permanently located respectfully tenders his pofessional services to the citixens of Bedford and vicinity. Office on Juliana street, opposite the Bank, one door north of Hall A Pal mer's office. April 1, 1864—tf. HOTELS. BEDFORD HOUSE, AT HOPEWELL, BEDFORD COIJRTT, PA., BY HARRY DROLLINGER. Every attention given to make guests comfortable, who stop at this House. Hopewell, July 29, 1864. US. HOTEL, HARRISBURG, PA. CORNER SIXTH AND MARKET STREETS, OPPOSITE READING R. R. DEPOT. D. H. HUTCHINSON, Proprietor. jin6:6s. EXCHANGE HOTEL, HUNTINGDON, PA., JOHN 8. MILLER, Proprietor. April 29th, 1864.—ft. BANKERS. a. W. RCPP O. E. SHASNOS F. BENEDICT RUPP, SHANNON A CO., BANKERS, BEDFORD, PA. BANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT. COLLECTIONS made for the East, West, North and South, and the general business of Exchange, transacted. Notes and Accounts Collected and Remittances promptly made. REAL ESTATE bought and sold. apr.15,'64-tf. JEWELER, Ac. DANIEL BORDER, PITT STRBBT, TWO DOORS WEST OF THB RED FORD HOTEL, BEDFORD, PA. WATCHMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL RY, SPECTACLES, AC. He keeps on hand a stock of fine Gold and Sil ver Watches, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Refin ed Glasses, also Scotch Pebble Glasses. Gold Watch Chains, Breast Pins, Finger Rings, best quality of Gold Pens. He will supply to order any thing in his line not on hand, apr. 8, 1864 —xs. HENRY HARPER. _ No. 520 Arch St. above sth Fhila. Manufacturer and Dealer in WATCHES, FINE JEWELRY, SOLID SILVER WARE, and Su perior SILVER PLATED WARE. mar34:3m. JUSTICES OF THE PEACE. JOHN MAJOR, JUBTICE OF THE PEACE, HOFEWBLL, BEDFORD COCSTT. Collections and all business pertaining to his office will be attended to prompt ly. Will also attend to the sale or renting of real estate. Instrnments of writing carefully prepa red. Also settling up partnerships and other ac counts. April la 1864-tf, fB c bto vi> Jttcjmiret'. DIRBORROW & LUTZ, Editors and Proprietors. Mtrt foetus DRIVING HOME THE COWS. Out of the clover and blue eyed grass, He turned them into the river-lane; One after another he let them pass, Then fastened the meadow bars again. Under the willows and over the hili He patiently followed their sober pace, The merry whistle for once was still, And something shadowed the sunny face. Only a boy! and his father had said He never could let his youngest go ! Two already were lying dead, Under the feet of the trampling foe. But after the evening work was done, And the frogs were loud in the meadow swamp, Over his shoulder he slung his gun, And stealthily followed the foot-path damp. Across the clover and through the wheat, With resolute heart and purpose grim, Though cold was the dew on his hurrying feet, And the blind bats flitting startled him. Thrice since then had the lanes been white, And the orchards sweet with apple-bloom; And now, when the cows came back at night, The feeble father drove them home. For news had come to the lonely farm That three were lying where two had lain; And the old man's tremulous, palsied arm Could never lean on a son's again. The summer day grew cool and late, He went for the cows when his work was done— But down the lane, as he opened the gate, He saw them coming, one by one. Brindle, Ebony, Speckle and Bess, Shaking their horns in the evening wind, Cropping the butter-cups out of the grass— But who was it following close behind? Loosely swang in the idle air The empty sleeve of army blue; And worn and pale, from the crisping hair, Looked out a face that the father knew. For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn, And yield their dead unto life again; And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn In golden glory at last may wane. The great tears sprang to their meeting eyes; For the heart must speak when the lips are dump— And, under the silent evening skies, Together they followed the home. —Harper'* Magazine. Jmernl ORATION By Hon. George Bancroft at ttie Funeral Obaeoniea of President l.incoln in sfew York City. Our grief and horror at the crime which has clothed the Continent in mourning, find no adequate expression in words and no re lief in tears. The President of the United States of America has fallen by the hands of an assassin. Neither the office with which he was invested by the approved choice of a migbiy people, nor the most simple hearted Kindliness of natuie, could save nim from the fiendish passions of relentless fa naticism. The wailings of the millions at tend his remains as they are borne in solemn procession over our great rivers, along the seaside, beyond the mountains, across the prairie, to their final resting place in the valley of the Mississippi. The echoes of his funeral knell vibrate through the world, and the friends of freedom of every tongue and in every climate are his mourners, 100 few days have passed away since Abraham Lincoln stood in the flush of vigorous man- ■ hood to permit any attempt at an analysis of his character or an exposition of his ca reer. We find it hard to believe that his large eyes, which in their softness and beau ty expressed nothing but benevolence and gentleness, are closed in death ; we almost look for the pleasant smile that brought out more vividly the earnest cast of nis features, which were serious even to sad ness. A few years ago he was a village attorney, engaged in the support of a rising family, unknown to fame, scarcely named be yond his neighborhood; his administration made him the most conspicuous man in his country, and drew on him first the astonish ed gaze, and then thtr respect and admira tion of the world. Those who come after us will decide how much of the wonderful results of his public career is due to his own good common sense, his shrewd sagacity, readiness of wit, quick interpretation of the public mind, his rare combination of fixed ness and pliancy, his steady tendency of purpose; how much to the American people who, as he walked with them side by side, inspired him with their own wisdom and energy; and how much to the overruling laws of the moral world, by which the self ishness of evil is made to defeat itself. But after every allowance, it will remain that members of the Government which preced ed his administration opened the gates of tre;ison, and he closed them ; that when he went to Washington the ground on which he trod shook under his feet, and he left the Republic on a solid foundation ; that traitors had seized public forts and arsenals, and he recovered them for the United States, to whom they belonged; that the capital, which he found the abode of slaves, is now the home only of the free ; that the boundless domain which was grasped at, and, in a great measure, held for the difl'u sion of Slavery, is now irrevocably devoted to freedom; that then men talked a jargon of a balance of power in a Republic between Slave States and Free States, and now the foolish words are blown away forever by the breath of Maryland, Missouri and Tennes see; that a terrible cloud of political heresy rose from the abyss threatening to hide the light of the sun, and under its darkness a rebellion was rising into indefinable propor tions; now the atmosphere is purer than ever before, and the insurrection is vanish ing away; the country is cast into another mold, and the gigantic system of wrong, which had been the work of more than two centuries, is dashed down, we hope forever. And as to himself personally ; he was then scoffed at by the proud as unfit for his sta tion, and now against the usage of later years, and in spite of numerous compcti tors he was the unbiased and the undoubted choice of the American people for a second term of service. Through all the mad busi ness of treason he retained the sweetness of a most placable disposition; and the slaugh ter of myriads of the best on the battle field and the more terrible destruction of our men in captivity by the slow torture of ex posure and starvation, had never been able to provoke him into harboring one vengeful feeling or one purpose of cruelty. How shall the nation most completely show its sorrow at Mr. Lincoln's death ? How shall it best honor his memory ? There can be but one answer. He was struck down when he was highest its service, and in strict con formity with duty was engaged in carrying out principles affecting its life, its good name and its relations to the cause of freedom and the progress of mankind. Grief must take the character of actiou, and breathe itself forth in the assertion of the policy to which A LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS. he fell a sacrifice. The standard which he held in his hand must be uplifted again, higher and more firmly than before, and must be carried on to triumph. Above ev erything else, his proclamation of the first day of January, 1863, declaring throughout the parts of the country in rebellion the freedom of all persons who have been held as slaves, must be affirmed and maintained. Events, as they rolled onward, have remov ed every doubt of the legality and hinding force of that proclamation. The country and the Rebel Government have each laid claim to the public service of the slave, and yet but one of the two can have a rightful claim to such service. That rightful claim belongs to the United States, because every one born on their soil, with the few excep tions of travelers and transient residents, owes them a primary allegiance. Every one so born has been counted among those rep resented in Congress; every slave has ever been represented in Congress—imperfectly and wrongly it may—hut still has been coun ted and represented. The slave born on our soil owed allegiance to the general gov ernment. It may in time past have been a qualified allegiance manifested through his master, as the allegiance of a ward through its guardian or of an infant through its pa rent. But when the master became false to his allegiance, the slave stood face to face with his country and his allegiance, which may before have been a qualified one, be came direct and immediate. His chains fell off, and he stood at once in the presence of the nation, bound like the rest of us to its public defense. Mr. Lincoln's proclamation did but take notice of the already existing right of the bondman to freedom. The treason of the master made it a public crime for the slave to continue his obedience; the treason of a state set free the collective bondmen of that State. This doctrine is supported by the analogy of precedents.— In the times of feudalism the treason of the lord of the manor deprived him of his serfs; the spurious feudalism that existed among us differs in many respects from the feuda lism of the middle ages; hut so far the pre cedent runs parallel with the present case; for treason the master then, for treason the mas ter now. loses his slaves. In the middle a ges the sovereign appointed another lord over the serf's and the land which they cultivated; in our day, the sovereign makes them masters of their own persons, lords over themselves. It has been said that we are at war, and that emancipation is not a beligerent right. The objection disappears before analysis. In a war between independent powers the in vading foreigner invites to his standard all who will give him aid, whether bond or free, and lie rewards them according to his abili ty and his pleasure with gifts or freedom; but when at peace he withdraws from the invaded country he mutt take his aiders and comfarters with him; or if he leaves them behind, where he has no court to enforce his decrees, he can give them no security, unless it be by the stipulations of a treaty. In a civil war it is altogether different. There, when rebellion is crushed, the old Govern ment restored, and its Courts resume their jurisdiction. So it is with us;, tho United States have Courts of their own, that must punish the guilt of treason and vindicate the freedom of persons whom the fact of Rebel lion has set free. Nor may it be said that, because Slavery existed in most of the States when the Union was formed, it cannot right fully be interfered with now. A change has taken place, such as Madison foresaw, and for which he pointed out the remedy. The Constitutions of States had been transform ed before the plotters of treason carried them away into lie hellion. When the Fed eral Constitution was formed, general eman cipation was thought to near; and every where the respective Legislatures had au thority, in the exercise of their ordinary functions, to do away with Slavery; since that time the attempt has been made in what are called Slave States to make the condition of Slavery perpetual; and events have proved with the clearness of demon stration, that a constitute :: which seeks to continue a caste of hereditary bondmen through endless generations is inconsistent with the existence of Republican institutions. So, then, the new President and the people of the United States must insist that the proclamation of freedom shall stand as a reality. And, moreover, the people must never cease to insist that the Constitution shall be so amended as utterly to prohibit Slavery on any part of oursoil for evermore. Alas! that a State in our vicinity should withhold its assent to this last beneficent measure; its refusal was an encouragement to our enemies equal to the gain of a pitch ed battle; and delays the only hopeful meth od of pacification. The removal of the cause of the Rebellion is not only demanded by justice; it is the policy of mercy, making room for a wider clemency; it is the part of order against a chaos of controversy; its suc cess brings with it true reconcilement, a lasting peace, a continuous growth of confi dence through an assimilation of the social condition. Here is the fitting expression of the mourning of to-day. And let no lover of his country say that this warning is un called for. The cry is delusive that Slave ry is dead. Even now it is nerving itself for a fresh struggle for continuance. Tho last winds from the South waft to us the sad intelligence that a man, who had sur rounded himself with the glory of the most varied achievements, who but a week ago was name 1 with affectionate pride among the greatest benefactors of his country and the ablest generals of all time, has usurped more than the whole power of the Execu tive, and under the name of peace has reviv ed Slavery and given security and political power to traitors from the Chesapeake to the Rio Grande. Why could he not remember the dying advice of Washington, never to draw the sword but i'or self-defense or the rights of his country, and when drawn, nev er to sheath it till its work should be accom plished? And yetufrom this bad act, which the people with one united voice condemn, no great evil will follow save the shadow on his own fame. The individual, even in She greatness of military glory, sinks into insig nificance before the resistless movements in the history of man. No one can turn back or stay the march of Providence. No senti ment of despair may mix with our sorrow. We owe it to the memory of the dead, we owe it to the cause of popular liberty through out the world, that the sudden crime which has taken the life of the President of the United States shall not produce the least impediment in the smooth course of public affairs. This great city, in the midst of unexampled emblems of deeply-seated grief, has sustained itself with composure and magnanimity. It has nobly dene its part in guarding against the derangement of busi ness or the slightest shock to public credit. The enemies of the Republic put it to the severest trial; but the voice of faction has not been heard; doubt and despondency have been ununown. In serene maiesty the coun try risen in the beauty ana strength and hope of youth, and proves to the world the quiet energy and the durability of institu tions growing out of the rcasou and affec tions of the people. Heaven has willed it that the United States shall live. The nu BEDFORD, Pa., FRIDAY, MAY 5, 1865. tions of the earth cannot snare them. All the wornout aristocracies of Europe saw in the spurious feudalism of slaveholding their strongest outposts, and banded themselves together with the deadly enemies of our na tional life. If the Old World will discuss the respective advantages of oligarchy or evuality ; of the Union of Church and State, or the rightful freedom of religion; of land accessible to the many, or of land monopo lized by an ever-decreasing number of the few, the United States must live to control the decision by their quiet and unobtrusive example. It has often and truly been ob served that the trust and affection of the masses gather naturally around an individ ual. If the inquiry is made whether the man so trusted and beloved shall elicit from the reason of the people enduring institu tions of their own, or shall sequester politi cal power for a superintending dy nasty, the United States must live to solve the problem. If a question is raised on the respective merits of Timoleon or Julius Cae sar, of Washington or Napoleon, the United States must he there to call to mind that there were twelve Caesars, most of them the opprobrium of the human race, and to con trast with them the line of American Presi dents. The duty of the hour is incomplete, our mourning is insincere if, while we express unwavering trust in the great principles that underlie our government, we do not also give our support to the man to whom the people have entrusted its administration. Andrew Johnston is now. by the constitution the President of the United States, and he stands before the world as the most conspic uous representative of the industrial classes. Left an orphan at four years old. poverty and toil were his steps to honor. His youth was not passed in the halls of colleges; nev ertheless he has received a thorough politi cal education in statesmanship in the school of the people and by long experience of pub lic life. A village functionary; member suc cessessively of each branch of the Tennessee legislature, hearing with a thrill of joy, the words, "the Union, it must be preserved;" a representative in Congress for successive years; Governor of the great State of Ten nessee, approved as its Governor by re-elec tion; he was at the opening of the Rebellion a Senator from that State in Congress. Then at the Capitol, when Senators, unre buked by the Government, sent word by telegram to seize forts and arsenals, he alone from that Southern region told them what the Govarnment did not dare to tell them, that they were traitors, and deserved the punishment of treason. Undismayed by a perpetual purpose of public enemies to take his life, bearing up against the still greater trial of the persecu tion of his wife and children, in due time he went back to his State, determined to res tore it to the Union, or die with the Amer ican flag for his winding sheet. And now, at the call of the (. nited States, he has returned to Washington as a conquerer, with Tennessee as a free State for his tro phy. It remains for him to consummate the vindication of the Union. To that Union Abraham Lincoln has fallen a mar tyr. His death, which was meant to sever it beyond repair, binds it more closely and mure firmly *U y u evw Tire hlqw im©J at him, was aimed not at the native of Ken tucky, not at the citizen of Illinois, but at the man who, as President of the executive branch of the government, stood as the rep resentative of every mau in the United States. The object of the crime was the life of the whole people: and it wounds the affections of the whole people. From Maine to the south-west boundary of the Pacific, it makes us one. The country may have needed an imperishable grief to touch its inmost feeling. The grave .that receives the remains of Lincoln, receives the martyr to the Union; the monument which will rise over his body will bear witness to the Union: his enduring memory will assist du ring the countless ages to bind the states together, and to incite to the love of our one undivided, indivisible country. Peace to the ashes of our departed friend, the friend of his country ana his race. Happy was his life, for he was the restorer of the republic; he was happy in his death, for the manner of his end will plead forever for the Union of the States and the freedom of man. detect Jtojj. THE UNMEANT REBUKE. Charles Nelson had reached his thirty-fifth year, and at that ago he found himself going down hill. He had once been one of the happiest of mortals, and no blessing was wanted to complete the sum of his happi ness. He had one of the best wives, and his children were intelligent and comely. He was a carpenter by trade, and no man could command better wages, or be more sure of work. If any man attempted to build a house, Charles Nelson must "boss" the job and for miles around people sought him to work for them. But a change had come over his life. A demon had met him on his way, and he had turned back with the evil spirit, A new and experienced carpenter had been sent for by those who could no lon ger depend on Nelson, and he had settled in the village, and now took Nelson's place. On a back street where the great trees threw their green branches over the way, stood a small cottage, which had been the pride of the inmates. Before it stretched a wide garden, but tall, rank grass grew up among the choking flowers, and the paling of the fence was broken in many places. The house itself had once been white, but it was now dingy and dark. Bright green blinds had once adorned the windows, but now they had been taken off and sold. And the win dows themselves bespoke poverty and ne glect, for in many places the glass was gone and shingles, rags and old hats had taken its place. A single look at the house and its accompaniments told the story. It was the drunkard s home. Within, sat a woman in the early years of her life and thought ; she was still handsome to look upon, but the bloom had gone from her cheek, and brightness had faded from her eyes. Poor Mary Nelson ! Once she had been one of the happiest among the happy, but now none coulu be more misera ble 1 Near her sat two children, both beau tiful in form and feature ; but their garbs were all patched and worn, and their feet were shoeless. The eldest was thirteen ears of age, her sister a few years younger. The mother was hearing them recite a grarn mer lesson, for she had resolved that her children should never grow up in ignorance. They could not attend the common schools, for thoughtless children sneered at them, and made them the object of sport and ridi cule ; but in this respect they did not suffer for their mother was well educated, and she devoted such time as she could spare to their instruction. For more than two years, Mary Nelson had earned all the money that had been used in the house. People hired her to wash, iron and sew for them, and besides the money paid, they gave her many articles of food and clothing. So she lived on, and the only joys that dwelt with her now, were teaching her children and praying to God. Supper time came and Charles Nelson eaiue reeling home. He had worked the day before, at helping to move a building, and uad earned money enough to find han sel! 111 rum for several days. As he stum bled into the house, the children crouched close to their mother, and even she shrank awav, for sometimes her husband was ugly when intoxicated. Oh! how that man had changed within two years ! Once there wasnot a finer look ing man in the town. In frame he had been tall, stout, compact, and perfectly formed while his face bore the very beau ideal o! manly beauty. But all was changed now. His noble form was bent, his limbs shrun ken and tremulous, and his face all bloated and disfigured. lie was not the man who had once lieen the fond husband and doting father. The loving wife had prayed, and wept, and implored, but all to no purpose ; the husband was hound to the drinking com panions of the bar-room, and he would jiot break the bands. That evening Mary Nelson ate no supper, for of all the food in the house, there was not more than enough for her husband and children ; but when her husband was gone she went out and picked a few berries, and thus kept her vital energies alive. That night tne poor woman prayed long and ear nestly, and her little ones prayed with her. On the following morning Charles Nelson sought the bar-room as soon as he rose, but be was sick and faint, and the liquor would not revive him, for it would not remain on his stomach. lie drank very deeply the night before, and he feit miserable. At length, however he managed to keep down a few glasses of hot sling, but the close atmos phere of the bar-room seemed to stifle him, and he went out. The poor man had sense enough to know that if lie could sleep he should feel better, and he hail just feeling enough to wish to keep away from home ; so he wandered off to a wood nut far from the village, and sunk down by a stone wall aud was soon in a profound slumber. When he awoke the sun was shining down upon him, and raising himself to a sitting posture he gazed about him. He was just on the point of rising, when his motion was arrested by the sound of voices near at hand. He looked through a chink in the wall, and just upon the other side he saw his two children picking berries while a little farther off were two more girls, the children of the carpenter who had lately moved into the village. "Come, Katie," said one of these latter girls to her companion, "let's go away from here, because if anybody was to see us with those girls, they'd think we played with 'em. Come. ' "But the berries are so thick here," re monstrated the other. "Nevermind—we'll come out some time when these little ragged drunkard's children are not here.'' So the favored ones walked away hand in hand, and Nelly and Nancy Nelson sat down upon the ground and cried. "Don't cry, Nancy," said the eldest, throwing her arms around her sister's neck. "But you are crying. Nelly." "Oh, L can't beiD it," sobbed the stricken one. "Why do they blame us?" murmured Nancy, gazing up into her sister's face. ' 'Oh we are not to blame. We are good, and kind, and loving, and we never hurt any body. Oh, I wish somebody would love us; I should be so happy.'' "Aud we are loved. Nancy. Only think of our noble mother. Who could love us as she does ?'' "I know—-I know, Nelly ; but Ahat ain't all. Why don't papa love us as he used to do? Don "r you remember when he used to kiss us and make us so happy ? Oh, how I wish he could be so good to us once more. He is not —" " —sh, assy ! don't say anything more. He may be good to us again ; if he knew how we loved him, I know he would. And then I believe God is good, and surely he will help us sometime, for mother prays to him every day." "Yes," answered Nancy, "I know she does; and God must be our father some j time. " "Ho is our father now, sissy." "I know it, and he must be all we shall have by-and-hy, lor you don't you remem ber that mother told us that she might leave us one of these days ? She said a cold dag ger was upon her heart, and— " —sh ! Don't Nancy, ycu'il—" The words were choked up with sobs, and tears, and the sisters wept long together. At length they arose and went away, for they saw more children coming. As soon as the little ones were out of sight, Charles Nelson started to his feet. His hands were clenched, his eyes were fixed upon a vacant point with an eager gaze. "Mv God," he gasped, "what a villian I am. Look at me now. What a state lam in, anfi what I have sacrificed to bring my self to it. And they love me yet, and pray for me 1" lie said no more, but for a few moments he stood with his hands clenched, and his eyes fixed. At length his gaze was turned upward, and his clasped hands were raised above his head. A moment he remained so, and then his hand- dropped by his side, and he started homew ird. When he reached hi, home he found his wife and children in ti irs, but he affected to notice it not. He drc .? a shilling from his pocket —it was his last —and handing it to his wife, and asked her if she would send and get him some porridge. The wife was startled by the tone in which this was spoken, for it sounded as in days gone by. The porridge was made nice and nourish ing and Charles ate it all. He went to bed early, and early on the following day he was. up. He asked his wife if she had milk and flour enough to make him another bowl of porridge. "Yes, Charles," she said, "we have not touched it. " "Then if you are willing, I should like some more. The wife moved quickly about the wcrk, and ere long the food was prepared. He washed and dressed, and would have shaved had his hand been steady enough. He left his home and went at once to a man who had just commenced to frame a house. "Mr. Manly," he said, addressing the man alluded to, "I have drank the last drop of alchoholic beverage that ever passes my lips. Ask no more questions, but believe me now while you see me true. Will you give me work?" "Charles Nelson; are you in earnest?" asked Manly in surprise. "So much so, sir, that were death to stand upon my right hand, and yonder bar-room upon my left. I would go with the grim mes senger first.' "Then here is mv house lving about us in rough timber and noards. 1 place it all in your hands, and shall look to you to finish it. Come into my office and you shall see the plan I have drawn. We will not tell you how the stout man wept, nor how his noble friend shed tears to see hi® thu3; but Charles Nelsoq took the Vo] 38: N0.,19. plan, and having studied it for a while, he went out where the men were at work get ting the timber together, Mid Mr. Manly in troduced hi in as their master. That day he worked but little, for he was not strong yet but he arranged the timber, and gave direc tions for framing. At night he asked his employer if he dared trust him with a dol lar. "Why, you have earned three," returned Manly. "And will you pay me three dollars a day?" 'lf you are as faithful as you have been to-day, for you will save me money at that' The poor man could not speak his thanks in words, but his looks'spoke them for him, and Manly understood them. He received his three dollars, and on his way home he stopped and bought first a basket, then three loaves of bread, a pound of butter, some tea and sugar, and a piece of beef-steak, and he lrad just one dollar and seventy-five cento left. With this load he went home. It Was some time before he could compose him self to enter the house, but at length he went in, and sat the basket upon the table. "Come, Mary," he said, "1 have brought something home for supper. Here, Nelly, you take the pail and run over to Mr. Brown's and get two quarts cfmilk." He handea the child a shilling as he spoke and in a half-bewildered state she took it and hurried away. The wife started when she raised the cov er of the basket, but she dared not speak. She moved about like one in a dream, and ever and anon she would cast a furtive glance at her husband. He had not been drinking—she knew it—and yet he bad money to buy rum if he wanted it. What could it mean ? Had her prayers been answered ? Oh. how fervently she prayed then. Soon Nelly returned with the milk, and Mrs. Nelson set the table out After sup per. Charles arose and said to his wife : "I must go to Mr. Manly's office to help him to arrange some plans for his new house, but I will be at home early." A pang shot through the wife's heart as she saw niin turn away, but still she was far happier than she had been for a long time. There was something in his manner that as sured her, and gave ber hope. Just as the clock struck nine, the well kuown foot-fall was heard, strong and steady. The door opened and Charle * entered. His wife cast a quick and keen glance into his face,* and she almost uttered a cry of joy when she saw how he was changed for the better. He had been to tbe barber's and hatter's. Yet nothing was said upon the all-important subject Charles wished to retire early, and his wife went with him. In the morning the husband arose first and built the fire. Mary had not slept till long after midright, having been kept awake by the tumultous emotion that haa started up in her bosom, and she awoke not so early as usual. But she came out just as the tea kettle and potatoes began to boil, and break fast was soon ready. After the meal was eaten, Charles arose, Eut on his hat, and then turning to his wife e asked : "What do you do to-day?" "I must wash for Mrs. Bixby." "Are you willing to obey me once more ?" "Oh, yes." "Then work for me to-day. Send Nelly over to tell Mrs. Bixby that you are not well enough to wash, for you are not Here is a dollar, and you must do with it as you please. Buy something that will keep yon busy for yourself and children. Mr. Nelson turned toward the door and his hand was upon the latch. He hesitated and turned Dack. He did not speak, but he opened his arms ; and his wife sank upon his bosom. He kissed her, and then having placed her in a seat, he left the house. When he went to his work that morning he felt well, and very happy. Mr. Manly was by to cheer him, and this he did by talking and acting as though Charles had never been unfortunate at all. It was Sunday evening and Nelson had been almost a week without rum. He had earned fifteen dollars, ten of which he had in his pocket. "Mary," he said, after the supper table had been cleared away, "there are ten dol lars for you and I want you to expend it in clothing for yourself and children. I have earned fifteen dollars during the past five days. lam to build Squire Manly's great house, and he pays me three dollars a day. A good job, isn t it?" Mary looked up, and her lips moved, but she could not speak a word. She straggled a few moments, and then burst into tears. Her husband took her by the arm and drew her upon his lap, then pressed her to his bosom. "Mary," he whispered, while tears ran down his cheeks, "you are not deceived. I atu Charles Nelson once more, and will be while I live. Not by anv act of mine shall another cloud cross your brow." And then he told her of the words he had heard the previous Monday, while he lay be hind the wall. "Never before," he said, "did I fully re alize how low I had fallen, but the scales dropped Irom mv eyes then as though some one had struck them off with a sledge. My soul started up to a stand point from which all the tempters of earth can not move it. Yours prayers are answered." Time passed on, and the cottage assumed its garb of pure white, and its whole win dows and green blinds. The roses in the gar den smile, and in every way did the im provement work. Once again was Mary Nelson among the happiest of the happy, and her children choose their own associates now. How TRAITORS ARK TREATED IN CLEVE LAND. —W E cut the following from the Cleve land Lender. It needs no comment, as showing how strong is public sentiment in that city. Speaking of several cases in which persons rejoicing over the murder of the President were punished, it says :. "The case of J. J. Husband, the well known architect, who occupies an office and rooms over Fogg'sstore, was most prominent He was in high"glee over the news, remark ing to one man : "You have had your day of rejoicing, now I have mine," to another: "This is a good day for me," and to a third : "That Lincoln's death was a d d small loss." It seems that afterward he became sensible of the danger he had incurred by these remarks, for ne came sneaking to the newspaper offices t< i.deny that he had made them. We have, however, the authority of half a dozen reliable gentlemen, who heard his remarks, against his unsupported asser tion. On his way back to his office he was assaulted by the crowd, but escaped from them. His words were repeated from mouth to mouth, and the indignation of the multi tude knew no bounds. The crowd searched the building for him, at last, finding him on the roof of the building. He was caught, thrown through the skylight into his room, and knocked and kicked down stairs. The mob then set upon him, and would perhaps have pounded nim to death had he not been rescued by prominent citizens. He was ta ken to tbo court house and locked up in a room for safe keeping. He broke out and sneaked off during the day, and, we under stand, has once left town. He can never show hie face again in Cleveland. His name has already been clipped from the place on the court house where it was cut as the ar chitect. Another man named James Griffith, from Hamilton, Butler county, in this ar rived m town, Saturday morning, and on hearing of the news, said to a barber who was shaving him, i n the Weddell House bar ber shop, that "Lincoln was a d—d son of a b—h, and ought to have been shot long ago." Hearing of this, the mob started af ter him. He was taken charge of by Clark Warren and others who carried him to jail On tbe way there, however, the mob got. at him and pounded him badly. He is now in jail and ought to stay there for a term of months." GEO. DEMERIT 4 co., JEWELERS, 303 BROADWAY, N. Y., (ROBSKR DTLAKB STRUT.) 100,000 WATCHES, CHAINS, GOLD PENS ANB rENCIJiS. AC. WORTH 4500,000. To he Hold at OJVE DOLUM each with out regard to Value. AND SOT TO BE PAID UNTIL YOL' KSOW WHAT YOU WILL RECEIVE. SPLENDID LIST OP ARTICLES ALL TO BE SOLD FOR ONE DOLLAR EACH 100 Gold Hunting Case* Watches each $184.00 100 Gold Watches 00.00 200 Ladies' Watches 34.00 600 Silver Watches $15.00 to $25.00 600 Gold Neck and Vest Chains 13.00 to 15.00 1000 Chatelain and Guard Chains 5.00 to 15.00 3000 Vest and Neck Chains 4.00 to 13.00 4060 Solitaire Jet 4 Gold Brooches 4.00 to 8.00 4000 Coral, Lava, Garnet, Brooches 3.00 to 8.00 7000 Gold, Jet, Opal, Ac.Ear Drops 3.00 to 8.00 5000 Gents' Breast and Scarf Pins 3.00 to 8.00 6000 Oval Band Bracelets 3.00 to 8.00 2000 Chased Bracelets 5.06 to 10.00 3500 California Diamond Pins, Rings 2.50 to 8.00 2000 Gold Watch Keys 2.50 to 6.00 5000 Solitaire Sleeve Buttons, Studs 2.00 to 8.00 3000 Goid Thimbles 4.00 to 6.00 5000 Miniature Lockets 3.00 to 7.00 3000 Miniature Lockets, Magic 4.00 to 9.00 2500 Gold Toothpicks, Crosses, 4c. 2.00 to 6.00 3000 Fob and Ribbon Slides 2.00 to 5.00 5000 Chased Gold Rings 2.00 to 5.00 4000 Stone Set Rings 2.00 to 6DO 6500 Sets Ladies' Jewelry, jet, gold, 5.00 to 15.00 0000 Sets Ladies' Jewelry 3.00 to 10.60 8000 Gold Pens, silver case 4 pencil 4.00 to 8.00 4000 Gold Pens, ebony holder 4 ease 6.00 to 10.00 8000 Gold Pens, Mounted holder 2.00 to 0.00 All the goods in tbe above List will be sold, without reservation, for ONE DOLLAR EACH. Certificates of all the various articles are placed in similar envelopes sealed and mixed. These en velopes will be sent by mail, or delivered at our office, without regard to choice. On receiving a Certificate, you will see what artiele it represents and it is optional with you to send one dollar, and receive the article named, or any other in the list of same value. By this mode we give selections from a varied stock of fine goods, of the best make and latest styles, and of intrinsic worth, at a nominal price, while all have a chance of securing articles of the very highest value. In all transactions by mail we charge for for warding the Certificate, paying pestage, and do ing the business, 25 cents each. Five certificates will be sent for $1; Eleven for $2; Thirty for $5; Sixty five $10; and One Hundred for sls. SECURE A CERTIFICATE! There is no hazard or risk. There are no blanks. Every Certificate represents an article. As we aep none of the lower grades of Jewelry no per son ean receive less than the value of their money, and they may get an artiele worth five, ten, or a hundred fold! SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. Every person knows what they wiH receive be fore the article U paid for. On receipt of a Certi ficate yon see what article it represents, and it is, ef course, at your option to take it, or any other article in our List of the same value. We guarantee entire satisfaction to every pur chaser, ahd if there should be any person dissatis fied with any article received from us, they may immediately return it and the amount paid will be refunded. One trial will prove to any that this sale gives purchasers greater advantages than any other ever proposed. AGISTS.—We allow those acting as Agents Ten Cents on each Certificate ordered, provided their remittance amounts to One Dalian. They will collect 25 cents for every Certificate, and, retaining 10 cents, remit to us 15 cents for each. Address, GEO. DEMERIT 4 CO., apl4 303 Broadway, New York. IJUIE STUMP ISLAND OIL COMPANY. CAPITAL ... $120,000. Development Fund $21,G00 120,000 Shares, par value $1 No certificates of stock to be issued to the cor porators until 21,000 shall have been sold for the 1 benefit of all the stockholders, in the farther devel | opment of the Company's property. ' ■ PRESIDENT, WM. HARTLEY, Bedford, P*. SECRETARY k TREASURER, Hon. 8. L. RUSSELL, Bedford, Pa. DIRECTORS, Hon. T. B. SHASKON, M. C., California. W. D. MCKINSTRY, Mercersborg, Pa. Hon. SAUCED DAVIS, Bedford, Pa. J. M. SHOEMAKER, " " 6. W. RUFF, " The property of this company is all owned in fee simple and is all paid for, and consists of the following tracts: Ist. That valuable island, known as the "Lower Stump Creek Island," containing X acres and 93 perches, situated in the Allegheny river, at the mouth of the Clarion river. Chi this island a derrick was erected in the spring of 1841, and an engine placed on the grounds, bat the war breaking out, the parties sold off and enlisted. 2d. The "Upper Stamp Creek Island," is situ ate but a few rods above the lower island, con taining 4 acres and 20 perehes, 4 acres of which are owned by this company, on which are erected a house, stable, Ac. Neither of these islands is lia ble to overflow, and both are well protected by stone and trees against washing. By 'reference to the map of Pennsylvania, it will be'observed that the Clarion river empties into the Allegheny at a point due south from Oil Creek, and as oil is found at Freeport, on this line further south, we have every reason to believe that theee islands are in the very centre of the great oil belt of Pennsylva nia. Besides all this, they lie far below the coal measures. The ooffipany also owns 1 acre and 61 perches of land about 5J miles above the upper island, at the mouth of Ritchey Bus, near the town of Kn lenton, Venango Co., Pa., upon which is the cel ebrated Fox and Widel well, with new engine, derrick, building, Ac., Ac., And well Wed to the depth of 420 feet. This well was tubed at >6O feet, and in a few hours pumping yielded about one barrel of oil, but the proprietors determined to sink it deeper, and tbe company wili, as soon as possible, sink this well if necessary to the depth of 1000 feet or more. The "Stump Islands Com pany" ownes tbe tukol* interest in wall, fixtures and land, and "Development Fund" wLI be amply sufficient to complete this well and sink others in the Islands. There is besides, room enough on the Ritchey Bun tract for several more wells. The property owned by this company is all practical boring territory, and persons acquainted with the lands along the Allegheny and other oil streams, will bear testimony that we hare more practical boring surface than many of the .300 acre tracts contain. In addition to this, our basis will compare favor rably,with the large majority of Companies, whose Capital stock is five times as great. The service? of an efficient Superintendent have been obtained, and the Directors are determined to prosecute operations vigorously. Persons desirous of scouring a portion of the 21,000 shares of stock, must apply (soon, to Hon. 8. L. Russell, Bedford Penn'a. ; at whose office subscription boons hare been opened for the sale of Stocks, at *I.OO per share. Feb. 10, 1865. /~IALL AT 08-AMBR cfc oO.'B IF YOU WANT CHEAP GOODS! THERE YOU WILL FIND A Good flltoolsLp ALL OF WHICH IS OFFERED AT PRICES CORRESPONDING WITH THE GREAT April MSW,