lb? Jnijaim
IS PUBLISHED
KVERY FRIDAY MORNING,
BY
I. R. DURBORROH AJIO tiTZ.
ON
JULIANA S. opposite the Mongol House
BEDFORD, PENN'A
TERMS:
92.00 a year if paid strictly in advance.
If not |nid within *l* months SS.SO.
If not paid within the year SS.tiO.
CARDS.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
I, p. MEYERS..... • RICKERSOA.
MEYERS A DICKERSON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BEDFORD, PENN'A.,
Office same as formerly occupied by Hon. -W. P.
ScheU, two doors east of the Gazette office, will
practice in the several Courts of Bedford county.
Pensions, bounties and back pay obtained and the
purchase of Real Estate attended, to.
May 11, 'B6—lyr.
I OHN T. KEAGY,
J ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BEDFORD, PHX'A.,
Offers to give satisfaction to all who may en
trust their legal business to him. Will collect
moneys on evidences of debt, and speedily pro
cure bounties and pensions to soldiers, their wid
ows or heirs. Office two doors west of Telegraph
office. aprll:'66-ly-
T B. CESSNA,
J . ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Office with JOHN CESSNA, on Julianna street, in
the office formerly occupied by King A Jordan,
and recently by Filler A Keagy. All business
entrusted to his care will receive faithful and
prompt attentiou. Military Claims, Pensions, Ac.,
speedily collected.
Bedford, June 9,1865.
J" M'D- E- V- KERR
HIIARPE A KERB,
O A TTORNE YS-A T-LA W.
Will practice in the Courts of Bedford aad ad
joining counties. All business entrusted to their
care will receive careful and prompt attention.
Pensions, Bounty, Back Pay, Ac., speedily col
lected from the Government.
Office on Juliana street, opposite the banking
house of Reed A Schell, Bedford, Pa. mar2:tf
JOHN PALMEK,
Attorney at l,nw, Bedford. Pn..
Will promptly attend to all business entrusted to
his cars.
Particular attention paid to the collection
of Military claims. Office on Julianna st., nearly
opposite the Mengel House.) june 23, '65.1y
J. R. DCRBORROW JOHN I.UTZ.
UURBORROW A LiUTZ,
./ rroR.VE i*s ./ r n\
BEDFORD, FA.,
Will attend promptly to all bcainess intrusted to
their care, fcolleetions made on the shortest no
tice. *
They are, also, regularly licensed Claim Agents
and will give special attention'to the prosecution
of claims against tha Government for Pensions,
Back Pay, Bounty, Bounty Lands. Ac.
Office on Juliana street, one door South of the
'Mengel House" and nearly opposite the Inquirer
office. April 2S, 18f>5:t
ESFYM. AXISIP, ~
I ATTORNEY AT LAW, BssDronn, PA.,
Will faithfnlly and pr mptly attend to all busi
ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin
ing counties. Military claims, Pensions, buck
pay, Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with
Mann A Spang, on Julian a street, 2 doors south
of the Mengel House. , apl 1, 1884.—tf.
- A pomTS>
ATTORNEY' AT LAW, Bedford, PA.
Respectfully tenders his professional ecrvices
to the public. Office with J. W. Lingenfelter,
Esq., on Juliana street, two doors South of the
"Mccgle Jtoase." Dec. 9, ISB4-tf.
ATTOUKEVC AT w,vr, .......
Have formed a partnership in the practice ol
the Law Office or. Juliana Street, two doors South
of the Mengel House,
aprl, 1864 —tf.
JOHN MOWER.
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BEDFORD, PA.
April*!, 1864.—tf.
DENTISTS.
C. H. *• R> S " CH . JR
DENTISTS, BEDFORD, PA. *
Office in the Sauk Bml&nf, Ji'lutun Street.
All operations pertaining to Surgical or Me
chanical Dentistry carefully and faithfully per
formed and warranted. TERMS CAbIL
Tooth Powders aud Mouth Wash, excellent ar
ticle!", al'Aays "hand.
jan6'6s-ly.
DENTISTRY. • _
I N BOWSER, RESIDENT DENTIST, WOOD
BKRRT, Pa., visits Bloody Run three days of each
month, commencing with the second Tuesday of
the month. Prepared to perform all Dental oper
at ions with which he may he favored. Tervit |
icithin the reach of all and etrictly cash except by
special contract. 'Work to be sent by mail oroth- j
wise, must be paid for when impressions are taken, j
augs, '64rtL I
PHYSII'IASS.
DR. GEO. C. DOUGLAS
Respecttully tenders his professional services
to the people of Bedford and vicinity.
flZfr-Resi denee at Maj. Washaba*gh s.
Office two doors west of Bedford Hotel, up
stairs. _ aal7:tf
WM. W. JAMISON, M. D.,
Bloody Bus, Pa.,
Respectfully tenders his professional services to
the people of that place and vicinity. [decS:lyr
DR. B. F. IIARRY,
Respectfully tenders his professional ser
vices to the citizens of Bedford and viointty.
Office and residence on Pitt Street, in the building
formerly occupied by Dr. J. H. lfofins.
April 1, 1884—tl.
JL. MARBOURG, M. I)..
, Having permanently locnted rcspcctfnily
tenders his pofessional services to the citizens
of Bedford and vicinity. Office on Juliana street,
opposite the Bank, one door north ot Hall A Pal-
JJ,-B r.ffioe *'•
RA.YKKRS.
6. W. Rl'Pl* O. K. SHASNOH F. BENEDICT
RUPP, SHANNON A CO., BANKERS,
Bedford, Pa.
BANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT.
COLLECTIONS made for the East, West, North
and St nth, 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.
ABSALOM GARLICK,
Clock A Watchmaker and Jeweller,
Bloody Ris, Pa.
Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, <tc., promptly re
paired. All work entrusted to his care, warranted
to give satisfaction.
He also keeps on hand and for sale WATCH
ES, CLOCKS, and J EWE Lit V.
J&f Office with Dr. J. A. Mann. my 4
JOHN REIMUND,
CLOCK AND WATCH MAKER,
in tite United States Teteprapb office,
BEDFORD, Pa.
Clocks, watches, and all kinds of jewelry
promptly rejiulred. All work entrusted to his eare
wurranted to gjve entire satisfacti n. fnov.'blyr
DANIETL BORDER,
Pitt street, two doors west or the beo
FORD HOTEL, BeFJRD, PA
TCHMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL
RY. SPECTACLES. AC.
He keeps on hand a stock of line Gold and Sil
ver Watches, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Rcfin
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 bis line not on hand,
apr. 28. 1805—zz.
ft3ciitor& 3fuqnirer.
DIRBOKROW & LIFTZ Editors and Proprietors.
gtoftrjj.
THE CLOSING SCENE.
BT T. BUCHANAN RBAB.
The following is pronounced by the 'Westmin
ster Review" to be unquestionably the finest
American poem ever written:
Within the sober realms of leafless trees,
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air,
Like some tanned reaper in bis hour of ease,
When all the fields are lying brown and bare.
The gray barns looking from thoir hazy hills,
O'er the dun waters winding in the vales,
Sert down the air a greeting to the mills,
On the dull thunder of alternate flails.
All sights are mellowed, and all sounds subdued,
The hills seemed further and the streams sang
low,
As in a dream the distant woodman hewed
His wintry log, with many a muffled blow.
The embattled forests, erewhile armed with gold,
Their banners bright with every martial hue,
Now stood like some sad, beaten host of old,
Y.'ithdrairn afar in Time's remotest blue.
On sombre wings the vulture tried his flight;
The dove scarce heard his Eighing mate's com
plain t;
And, like a star slow drowning in the light,
The village ehurch-vane seemed to pale and
faint.
The sentinel eock upon the hill-side crew—
Crew thrice —and all was stiller than before;
Silent, till some replying warder blew
His alien horn and then was hearc no more.
Where erst the jay, within the elm's tall crest,
Made garrulous trouble round her unfledged '<
young:
And where the oriole hung her swaying nest,
By every light wind like a censer swung.
Where sung the noisy martins of the caves,
The busy swallows circling ever near—
Foreboding, as the rustic mind believes,
An early harvest and a plenteous year.
Where every bird that waked the vernal feast
Shook the sweet slumber from its wings at
inorn;
To warn the reaper of the rosy east;
All was now sunless, empty and forlorn.
Alone, from out the stubble, piped the quail
And croaked the crow thro' all the dreary gloom;
Alone, the pheasant, drumming in the valo,
Made echo in the distant cottage loom.
There was no bud, no bloom upon the bowers;
The spiders wove their thin shrouds night by
night:
I The thistle down, the only ghost of flowers,
Sailed slowly by—passed noiseless out of sight.
Amid all this—in this most dreary air,
And where the woodbine shed upon the porch
Its crimson leaves, as if the year stood there.
Firing tbu ali nUH inverted torch.
Amid ail this, the centre of the scene,
whito-liaircd matron with monotone"" i
tread
Plied the swift wheel, and with her joyless mien,
Sat like a fate, and watched the flying thread.
She had known sorrow. He had walked with her.
Oft 6uppcd, and broke with her the ashen crust,
And in the dead leaves still she heard the stir,
Of his thick mantle trailing in the dust.
While yet her cheek was bright with summer
bloom, •
Her country Fumiuoned and she gave her all:
And twice war bowed to bar in sable plume —
Re-gave the sword to rust upon the wall.
! Bc-rave the sword, but not the hand that drew
And struck for liberty the dying blow:
Nor him who, to his sire and country true,
Fell mid the ranks of the iuvading foe.
Long, but not loud, the drooping wheel went on,
Like the low murmur of h hive at noon;
Long, but not loud, the memory of the gone
Breathed through her lips a sad and tremulous
tone.
At last the thread was snappad—her head was
bowed,
Life dropped the distaff thro' her hands serene:
And lovingncighbors smoothed her careful shroud;
While death and winter closed the autumn
see ne.
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING.
BY CLARA AUGUSTA.
There is one thing in which I think uov
clits make a great mistake. If they par
ticularly desire to enlist the sympathies of
their readers for their hero or heroine, they
represent him or her alone in the world,
destitute of relatives or friends, with no
uncle or aunt, or even a country cousin to
fall back upon.
Now to my mind, such a situation is
tbc acme KJC thin.
Everybody whoTcads this wil! call me a
brute; hut I wish before he judges me, he
wait until he is the youngest of sixteen chil
dren : born of a mother who was afflicted
witli twelve brothers and sisters, and son of
a father who has ten sisters living.
This Is my situation —the situation of
James Brown, of Brownsville.
I cannot remember the time when my rel
atives were not a source of trouble to me.
All through my childhood I was afflicted
with aunts. They wanted to kiss me , and
though I never objected to being kissed by
the ladies in general. I objected to thismon
"bpoly of aunts. And,besides, all of my aunt*
but one took snuff; and she smoked.
As I grew oJderj#jiy uncles became my
trial. They wanted me to do chores. They
were all set tied down near my father's resi
dence—most "of them farmers ; if the sheep
got in the field, or the horses jumped out of
the pasture, or the cat eat up the chickens,
Jim was called to attend to the matter. It's
the greatest wonder in the world that I did
not run my*feet off before I reached the age
of young manhood.
When I reached the period of being tor
tured with the tie of my cravats, and
' agonized about the glossiness of my dickies,
then my cousins came down upon me with
tlufr wants. If' they wanted to go to a
concert, or singiug school, or lecture, or
dance, why there was cousin Jim. Of
course cousin Jim would be delighted to go.
And cousin Jim would go ; and they
would flirt with some other fellows," who
were not cousins, all the evening; and like
ly enough get to sleep going home, and leave
cousin Jim the pleasure of whistling to the
moon for amusement.
When I was about twenty, my father
removed to Boston. Twelve of my broth
ers and sisters were married ; two were at
A I '° CAl - AND OKNEHAI. NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS.
school ; and only Ellen and myself were at
home.
I was delighted with the change. We
should be relieved from our relatives. Most
of them were thoughtful of their money,
and would not be likely to spend fifteen or
twenty dollars in visiting us.
I began to make myself into a gentleman,
i patronized the barber and his unguents—
and cultivated a moustache, which was my
beau ideal of perfection. I wore bright
colored neckties, and sported a gold watch,
and invested three dollars in a rattan, and
six dollars in a beaver, which always gave
me the headache, and made me look precise
ly like an inverted candle mould. But no
matter for that, so long as I was fashiona
ble.
I made the acquaintance of several charm
ing young ladies, among whom was Miss
Flora Van Yoorhies, the belle of the street
on which we lived. Flora was a beauty,
and one of the most fastidious creatures in
the world. Nothing was quite good and
elegant enough for her. She would not
have breathed the common air if she could
conveniently have dispensed with it; and if
the soles of her dainty boots touched the
soil of mother earth, it affected Flora's
nerves so badly, that she had a headache for
hours afterward.
I was raised to the seventh heaven and
lemon colored kids by her preference ; and
every night I devoutly prayed that some of
my relatives would appear and nip the
whole thing in the bud.
Five months rolled away, and I began to
feel at ease. N one of them had troubled
us, and we had not heard from them in any
way. I indulged the hope that they had
forgotten us. So, I think, did my mother,
who had become quite genteel, and had
formed some very genteel acquaintances.
One morning when Mrs. St. Michael, and
Mrs. Loery, two of our most distinguished
acquaintances, were in the parlor with my
mother, one of the railway hacks stopped
at our front door. An indefinable dread
seized me. I felt myself growing as cold as
peeled frog. From the hack there issued
three bandboxes, two trunks, a butter box,
a handled basket, a bundle in brown paper,
an nmbrdella, and lastly a green poke bon
net, beneath which I distinguished the little
wizened face of my father's oldest sister—
Aunt Sally Nutter. The very black sheep
of the whole flock of relatives !
"Bring 'em all right into the entry.'' she
called, in a stentorian voice, "I'm to hum
here. This is brother Jason's house. La!
Jason's got up in this world sense he used
to peddle lobsters ! It was a lucky thing
for him when he went to making pills, and
got doctor hitched on before his panic ! I
ixpict Martha's so big you can't tech her
with a ten foot pole. But law ! she needn't
try to put on extras with me ! I know em
all, root and branch ! egg and bird !" and
she hurst into the room, carrying her bas
ket and bandboxes.
The blinds were drawn, and Aunt Sally'a
foot struck against an ottoman, which
brought her down, basket bundles and all
to the floor. The cover of the basket flew
open and out rolled seven dozen of eggs—
most of which were smashed by the fall,
but some ere in a good state of nro""- —
"IJonsarn it !'* cried aunt Sally, strug
gling from the ruins, "there goes, seven
dozen of eggs ! And I brung'em here to git
thirty cents a dozen; they hain't but fifteen
at Brownsville ! What on airth do you have
your house so dark for '? Anybody sick, or
dead or gwine to be ? It smells mouldy
here ! Do open a winder, so I can see an
inch before my nose! "
My mother red and discomposed, threw
open a blind. Aunt Sally rushed up to her.
"Why, Martha, how tickled I am to see
you ! You look as natural as life, only
"it seems to me, you begin to show your age !
Wall taint to be wondered at ! A wo
man that's brang up so many children as
you have, when she gets to be fifty year old,
will naturally begin to look old ! And
here's Jim, I declare! why how you're
erowd ! But I must say you hain't growd
handsome ! The brown family hain't apt
to. He's a going to be the express image
of hisgranther—hain't he Martha? Jest
the same drop to his under jaw ! But
who's these ere people here? Some of
your city friends, I reckon ?"
Mrs. Leroy lifted her eye glass, and sur
veyed aunt Sally with an illl concealed con
tempt.
"Ho ! ho ! I reckon your'e nigb sighted,
marm ; thought so the minit I seed your
eyes. Eyes that is kinder faded out, and
reddish like yourn, is ant to be weak. Ever
tried roseleaves steeped in milk ?"
Mrs. Leroy arose, and drew her skirt
around her. Her face was as red as her
eves. She spoke very pointedly.
"Ithink 1 will be gbing, Mrs. Brown ;
you have other company vastly more amu
sing."
My poor mother stammered out some
thing, and followed the ladies into the hall.
Aunt Sally brought up the rear, crying out:
"You'd better do something for your eyes
rite off ! They look dreadfully ! I can see
it clean here!"
My mother drew my aunt back.
"1 will show you up stairs now if you
please," said she.
"Oh no ! I don't keer aboutseeing your
house just yet. There'll be tirno enpff fr
mat ; toi ir I like Boston, i kalkerlate to
stay four or fivo weekf! I'm tired tow;
them pesky koers has eanamost shook me
alltopeices. And then your roads here is
so rocky, I got all jounced up ! If I lived
here, I'd have the rocks picked out of the
the roads if I had to do it nyrself.'
I seized my hat and left the house. I
was too much excited to stay in aunt Sally's
society any longer at present. Anything
was better than staying at home with her.
I rushed down the first little street that
offered ; but my course was soon stopped by
a crowd, among which the star of a police
man shone conspicuous.
"I say I didn't do it!" Cried a some
what familiar voice, pitched on an extreme
ly high key. "I'll tell you I didn't teehit;
and if you don'tlet me alone, I'll knock you
down by bokey ! Hallo ! there's my cousin
Jim ! Fie knows me. and he'll tell you that
I'm jest ashenest a feller as the day is long!"
I shuddered. Here was another of my
relatives ; and at a little distance 1 recogni
zed the glossy tile of Dick Van Voorhies,
Flora's brother.
"I say Jim !" cried my cousin, Tom
Brown, flourishing his arms at me, "come
here this minit, and tell this man I hain't a
pickpocket! I say, Jim !'
"I don't know you !" stammered 1 ; and
taking a step backward, I stumbled over the
stand of a candy and apple woman, upset*
ting the whole concern, and myself besides.
The woman was angry, as she had a right
to be ; and she called me some very hard
names in a very strong brogue, and nit me
two severe blows with a long handled, two
quart noggin ! .
I scrambled to my feet and fled, hearing
as I went, the flattering remark from a by
stander :
"He looks more like a pickpocket than
tother one! Should'nt wonder if he was the
BEDFORD. Pa.. FRIDAY. OCTOBER 13. 1866.
°- ne He s got a real hang-dog expres
sion !
I plunged into the first cross-street that
offered, and came upon George Seaward, a
young sprig of the aristocracy, with whom
I had an acquaintance. He gave me a segar,
anu we walked up the street together, smok
ing, and making remarks on the ladies we
met.
A coal cart came rattling along, and a
rusty voice sung out,
'"Hallo! if there hain't cousin Jim
Brown I Jim, I say, look up here mid see
bam Smith, won't you? Shake hands with
a feller, do ; and he extended toward me a
paw which, for size, would have fitted a
Hercules, and, for color, an Ethopian.
I made a dodge into the back yard of a
house, the inmates of which set a dog on
me, and inspired by the stimulus of his bark,
I managed to escape into another yard, by
climbing oyer the_fence, and leaving my hat
and coat-tails behind me as a souvenir !
In my mad flight through yard No 2. I
nearly overturned a young woman who was
hanging clothes on a line. I opened my
mouth to apologize, but she seized me by
the arm with an exclamation of delight
"Why, Jim Brown, I declare ! don,t you
know me ? Me, your cousin Nelly ?"
I broke from her; and no grass grew un
der my feet until I was safe in my own
chamber. I sunk down completely exhaus
ted, wondering if the entire population of
Boston consisted of my relations.
Suddenly, I remembered that I was going
to the theatre that night with Flora. I
must put my hair in papers, and perfume
my moustache.
At dinner, Aunt Sally eyed me curiously,
and asked me what I'd got my hair rolled
up for. She guessed there was a going to
be a quilting somewheres, she said. My
mother, unfortunately, informed her that I
was going to the theatre. From that tao
ment my doom was sealed.
That was the very place, of all others that
aunt Sally wanted to visit. And she "could
go with me jest as well as not, if not more
so," she said, complacently.
I dressed myself, when the time came,
and hurried out a side-door, determined to
baffle aunt Sally ; but the old lady was too
sharp for me. There she sat, composedly,
on one of the stoue lions that flanked the
gateway, dressed in a flounced, pink calico,
and a yellow bonnet, waiting for me.
"I'm all ready," she remarked, jumping
up ; and I've took my work bag along, with
some crackers in it. If it holds in till after
nine o'clock, we shall want a launchin."
We stepped into the street. The people
stared at u.s. I felt as red as a full blown
poppy. My face streamed with perspira
tion. I could not endure it; it was no use.
Politeness T ignored in this case. I took
advantage of the old lady's rapt, gaze at the
window of a print shop to bolt down a by
street; and in a lew moments I was in the
presence of my divine Flora. We walked
leisurely to the theatre; lat my ease —for I
knew the old lady never could find her way,
unassisted, to the theatre.
Judge, then, of my horror, when, on
reaching that place of amusament, the first
spcctUfile, Ajl>my eves WW.<U'I 8 L
her arm, her voice raised to its highest ten
sion, and her right hand gesticulating to the
crowd she had gathered around her.
"He went out of sight jest like a flash !"
she was saying, ' 'and I give a little boy a ten
cent piece to show me the way here —and
I'm waiting for him to come along. I'm
kinder afeared he's got lost, for he was alias
rather weak-headed ; but, seeing as if he
might have asked somebodv the way : he's
got a tongue in his head . Hallo !
there he's now, and the Queen of Ingland
with him, by her gound! Come along, Jim;
the meetin's jest a goin to begin ! They're
a tooting on tho bass-viol now! Where on
airth did you go to so quick ? Is that your
gal?"
Indignation and dismay held me silent.
Flora s face was like a blush-rose. The
crowd, by a great effort, restrained them
selves from cheering the old lady ; but it
was very evident to me that they would not
long exercise any such forbearance.
"Jim," said my ancient relative, in a con
fidential whisper, loud enough to be heard
by the whole assembly, "you've got some
smut on your upper lip ! I seed it before
we started, but I didn't like to say nothing.
You'd better wipe it off; it looks dreadful
ly!" .
The crowd fairly roared. Smut, indeed!
my cherished mustache, that I had scented
and oiled, and admired for three long
months ! If the old lady had been a man,
I should have challenged her on the spot.
With a desperate effort I addressed Flora.
"Flora, my dear, we will go in, and not
pay any regard to this insane old woman."
Flora turned toward me, an iron determi
nation in her blue eye.
"Frank," she said —she always called me
Frank —"tell me who that horrid old crea
ture is before I go another step !"
"Horrid critter! I hain't a horrid crit
ter!" cried aunt Sally, waving her work-bag.
''l'm a decent woman, and haint got no
paint onto my face, as some folks that I
know of has. And I'm Jim Brown's own
aunt —his father's sister, Sally, that married
a Nutter ; and I've mended his pinnyfores
iyid trowsers many a time !''
Klfirfl liofPPA/1 • wlion ount Colly fill"
isheu. she cast upon me such a look !
"Mr. Brown,' she said, quietly, "I have
the honor to wish you a very good evening,
with your estimable relative;" and then she
took the arm of Fitz Ludlow, and sailed
away.
I thought I should have fainted on the
spot; and, perhaps, I should, if I had not
felt my sleeve vehemently pulled. I turn
ed, and saw a lean-faced man.
"Jim," said he, "lend your uncle five
dollars, do. I've left my pocket-book to
hum!"
Good gracious ! it was uncle Solomon
French ! and behind him was my uncle Bill;
and behind him my aunt Mary, and cousin
Susan. I did riot stop to see how many
more there was. I took it for granted that
the whole audience was to be composed of
my relatives. I jumped down the steps, and
fled at the top of my speed. Aunt Sally
cried at the extent of her lungs.
"Stop him! Stop him! I'll give a quar
ter to the man that captivates him t" _
Community at large at once decided that
I must be a thief, or a murderer; and they
rushed after me at a railway speed. A
dozen dogs joined in the chase, making
night hideous with their howling. I was in
too much of a hurry to keep a very keen
look-out for obstacles; and the first thing I
knew, I ran headlong over a lady drawing a
baby carriage.
Of course, she was angry. She seized
the baby with one hand, and my shoulder
with the other, and began a lecture in lan
guage more forcible.than polite. I tore my
self loose and renewed my flight.
But they overtook me. I had committed
a crime whieh people never overlook ; I had
abused a woman with a baby—so they said.
I deserved death on the spot.
A couple of policemen came up oppor
tunely. They made a little flourish of au-
thority, and marched me off to the watch
house.
In that interesting school of morals I re
mained until the next morning, when my
examination took place ; and no one appear
ing against me, I was discharged.
But I would not go home.. Aunt Sally
was still there ; perhaps a dozen more of
my relatives ; since "it never rains but it
pours.''
A bright thought struck me. I would
Rut the ocean between us, A whaler was
_-in§ at one of the wharves, which was ad
vertised to sail that very day. 1 went dawn
there, entered my name on the book, got a
seaman's rig, and presented myselt to the
captain for inspection. He received me with
open arms.
"Good heavens!" cried I.
"Yes!" said he, "I am your own cousin,
David ; and your cousin Daniel, and George
are among the crew ; and your aunt Peggy
is going as far as Florida for her health."
I waited to hear no more. The vessel was
just putting off; but I could swim. Yes,
thank heaven ! I could swim ! And with
out so much as saying good-bye, I dashed
into the water, and struggled to the shore,
to be met by aunt Sally, who exclaimed,
"Better go right home, Jimmy, and
change your stockings. Wet feet is dread
ful apt to bring on the rheumatiz. Don't
mind him captain !" yelled she, after the
receding vessel; "he was allers a little weak
in the upper story !"
I broke from aunt Sally— went to a hotel
—dried my clothing—got into a railway car
—went to Philadelphia, and enlisted in the
army; and my captain is my uncle Saul ;
and I have three cousins in my company,
and five more in another regiment with
which ours is brigaded.
Did ever a poor fellow have such luck?
If I should ever be found, some fine morn
ing, at the end of a rope, it will all be the
fault of my relatives.
M m m
EUROPE FOLLOWS AMERICA.
'lt is seldom that American institutions
are appreciated and defended by English
philosophical writers. There is a marked
contrast in this regard between the political
philosophers of the European continent and
those of England. Some of the first Euro
pean minds of the present century have been
directed seriously toward us, and have
reached conclusions favorable to the truth
of those principles which we were the first
to establish, or at least the first to exemplify
with success.
The best essay on government which has
proceeded from a French pen for half a cen
tury, was the result of a careful contempla
tion of the American system, matured by
deep thought. De Tocqueville opened a
new light upon the western republic. He
unquestionably startled Europe; but all Eu
rope could not answer him, and shrank from
attempting it. By defending, with a per
spicacity and soundness never excelled, prin
ciples almost universally unpopular, princi
ples detested by the powerful and scarcely
known to the weak, he established an envia
ble reputation, and was sought for as a near
- tu iii,i v t uav, Dt'UCIS Ui IJIB
countrymen have pursued the subject, until
it may" be concluded that the French phi
losophical school is now arrayed on our side.
Gasparin has dealt with the topic in a man
ner such as has won him a place beside De
Tocqueville. Guizot, perhaps the best filled
and best arranged mind in the France of to
day, is known to have given his approval.
Orleanist as he is, to many of the vital prin
ciples of this republic. Thiers has evinced
his tendency toward us by many brilliant
sentences in the History of the Consulate
and Empire. And more lately. Laboulaye
member of the Institute of France, has pub
lb hed a volume of essays, putting himself
on tiie record in favor of free institutions
without equivocation: "L, Etat et ses
Liiuites. Suivi d. Essais politiques par E.
Laboulaye, niembre de l,lnstitut. Paris:
Charpentier."
The most recent work which marks the
liberial philosophy ot France, and the ten
dency of that school toward republican insti
tutions, is a volume on education (L.Ecole)
from the able pen of M. Jules Simon.
This essayist seems to have grasped his sub
ject with an intelligence which rivals that of
De Tocqueville. There is abundant evi
dence that, like De Tocqueville, he has had
before his eyes the example of the United
States, and has clearly discerned in general
education the reason why our republij 1) as
been successfully maintained. It is hardly
too much to s®3' that Simon is the first
Frenchman who has perceived clearly that
it was the want of educational institutions in
France that has stigmatised her revolutions
and that it is the presence of such institu
tions that has given our government a
strength consistent both with security and
liberty. With the enthusiasm of a zealous
devotee of intelligent liberty he urgently de
mands a reform in the educational system of
France, and points with just indignation to
the fact that public moneys, which should
be devoted to the intellectual elevation of
the masses, are spent in luxuries useless to
all, and from which the poorer classes are
debarred.
It is evident that these works, following
each other in rapid suooonaion, and not re
fn(cd by the intellects which concede alle
giance to the Napoleonic idea, are turning
the thoughts of intelligent Frenchmen in
the right direction; anil it is not presump
tuous to predict that the time is not far dis
tant when the Empire will be forced to con
cede education and political freedom to
France, or follow to obliteration the already
dead dynasties upon whose ruins it has rear
ed itself.
Several well-known German writers, espe
cially in the kingdom of Prussia, have taken
firm grouud in behalf of the principles of
popular liberty, and the dissemination of
German histories of our late struggle will do
much to conduct ptfbiic opinion into the
right channels. A history of the ' 'Causes
of the Civil War in America" is about to
aopear, from the pen of Professor Fredrick
Neumann.' William the Second and Bis
marck have now quite suffiicieutly taxed the
fatience of the good natured Fatherland,
tis quite ueedless to revert, to the appre
ciation in which our example is held by in
telligent Italians. Cavour taught Italy to
regard the institututions of America with
veneration, and to draw practical lessons
from our example. The whole spirit of the
new kingdom is liberal; and the intelligent
thought of Italy b in advance of its govern,
ment. Thus everywhere is discernible the
healthy influence of intellectual activity in
Europe —not the morbid ideas of the eigh
teenth century, but the calm and lucid com
prehension of the nineteenth. Was it ever
more clear than at present, that America,
emerging triumphantly from a war against
her unity and liberty, is the pioneer of pro
gress to all the woriu?— Evening Pott.
The best description of weakness we have
ever heard is the wag's query to his wife,
when she gave him some chicken broth, if
she would not try to coax the chicken juat
to wade through the soup once more.
YOLCME 39; SO 45.
AMONG THE PINES
Large sections of the South offer millions
oi ttcres ci primeval forest, easily accessible,
and furnishing the finest lumber and timber
in the world. The pine regions of North
Carolina, which, without further growth,
halt a century] s use could scarcely exhaust,
are surpassed if possible, by the vast pine
ries of Southern Georgia. In Appling, Ir
win, Coffee, Colguit, Worth, Berrien and
other counties of that state, some of them
larger than the state of Rhode Island, one
may travel for days, and for hundreds of
miies, and be always I 'among the pines.
On every side, orer the hills, in the ravines,
and on the wide-stretching plains, there is a
thick growth of huge, heaven-reaching
trees, shutting out the sky and darkening
the ground, a sombre sea of pines. This is
the poetical view of the practical fact that
these almost illimitable forests, yield good,
sound, merchantable yellow pine, waiting
for the cutting, and worth from twenty-five
to thirty dollars per thousand feet on ship
board at the nearest port, and much more
money in Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia
or New York.
AH that is needed to convert these stand
ing trees into timber and money is the enter-
Erise and capital which should fill these pine
arrens with men, mules, axes and saw
mills. The land and lumber thereon, "as it
stands, _ can be had for a trifling cost.
Brunswick, on the southeastern coast of
Georgia, is the outlet for this region. It
has a good harbor, where vessels can lie and
load for any port, north or south. From
Brunswick to \\ aresboro', in Ware county,
there is a railway crossing the Southeastern
Georgia Railroad, and other roads are pro
jected or building which will traverse the
whole pine region, carrying all needed sup
plies, and bringing back lumber to Bruns
wick or to Savannah.
The riches long unused in this region are
now to be brought into commerce. There
are six first-class saw mills already running
at Brunswick, a dozen more are building,
and the capital is raised to build at least
twenty more. Steam and water are both
employed to drive these mills, and on all the
streams running through the interior, rafts
of logs are floating towards the Brunswick
mills. A new and busy race is peopling the
pine woods, and the long-while silent woods
ring with the axe-stroke. The field is invi
ting to laborers who wish to emigrate to the
South. The labor is constant and remuner
ative, the cost of living is low, and wages
are high. Men of enterprise, with a small
capital will be enabled to become large pine
land owners and proprietors of welbpaying
mills, producing at cheap rates lumber com
manding always the highest prices at the
North, and for which the demand is literally
unlimited, while the supply itself is inex
haustible.
WRITING FOR THE PRESS.
There are thousands of excellent farmers
in our country, who are capable of penning
communications that would be read with
other implements of husbandry, will be able
to pen an article equal to the man who has
never done but little else in his whole life
but write.
We desire to have our young farmers try
their hand a little. If they fail, it can be
no worse for them. Writing one communi
cation will greatly facilitate the task of pen
ning another. Farmers have a great deal
of leisure during our long winter evenings;
and it would he an excellent way to spend a
portion of their time to write communica
tions on subjects connected with their busi
ness. Let us suggest a few thoughts to aid
young writers:
Write brieflv. Youcanpenacommunica
tion of good length on one page of foolscap
paper. Record facts which have been inter
esting and profitable to yourselves, and you
may rest assured that your writings will be
perused with interest by others. Young
writers sometimes think that if a communi
cation does not cover three or four pages of
foolscap paper, it will not be acceptable to
an editor. Nothing is more erroneous.
Editors usually prefer short articles to long
ones. Four short communications would be
much more likely to prove acceptable to edi
tors, and to be published, than one long one.
If there is any subject on which you have
made discoveries, or on which you have
thoughts that would be likely to be profita
ble to other farmers, sit down and write
Xn it, but confine yourself to that subject
ie—e. g. the management of cows, or
I sheep, or other animals.
Many farmers have certain modes of per
forming different kinds of labor, which if de
scribed in proper language, would be of
great value to beginners. Let our young
men improve their talents in communicating
their knowledge to others.
While engaged in manual labor the mind
may be employed in the investigation of
some subject to write on, after the labors of
the day have closed.
CANINE SAGACITY
During the summer of 18 , a gentle
man, bv the name of "Old Moao," who we
considerable of a wag. was traveling on a
steamboat up the Mississippi river. He
had with him an ugly cur, that he called
Major.
"Old Mose" was seated with a number
of men in the cabin, and was boasting what
bis dog could do. The captain, who was
standing near, remarked that what he said
might be true, but he did not beKcve it.
Mose replied, that he would bet the treat for
all the gentlemen present, that he would
make his dog do three things by telling him
to do them. The captain took the bet. Mose
then opened the door and went out on the
guards, followed by the captain and gentle
men present, who were anxious to see the
sport. Mose seized him by the nape of the
neck, and tossed him overboard. As soon
as he touched the water, Mose yelled out:
"Swim, Major, swim!'.'
The dog .-warn, of course. Moss kept his
eves on the dog. As soon as he perceived
that the dog could touch the ground, he
roared out:
"Wade, Major, wade!"
Mayor waded until he landed on dry
ground, when Mose shouted out :
"Shake yourself!"
Major shook himself. Mosa turned to the
captain, who with the gentlemen present,
•were convulsed with laughter, and exclaim
ed :
There 1 by the eternal living boots, l
have won the bet."
It is useless, perhaps, to say that the cap
tain paid the treat.
THOSE who have been once dear to ua,
whatever offence they may have alienated
onr affection when living, are generally re
membered with tenderness when dead; and
after the grave has sheltered them from our
resentment, and rendered reconciliation im,
possible, we often regret as severe that
auct, which before we approved as just
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THE RICH AND THE POOR—WHO
ENJOY THE MOST t
I will say, for example, that ydu are a
working man, earaing a few dollars a week,
and that I am an independent person with
an income of ten thousand a year. I wiJJ
not take the example of a king, because I
apprehend few persons in their senses would
aspire to that uncomiortable position. Well
then, we are both men, with the same sen
ses and the same appetites. As regards our
animal natures, you eat, drink and
sleep ; I can do no more. Provided we
both have sufficient, there is no real differ
ence in the satisfaction we derive from
iuese indulgences. My meal may be com
posed of the so-called "delicacies of the sea-
SOD," while yours may be simply a steak and
potatoes. When we have both laid down
our knives and forks and cried "enough,"
the sensation is the same in both cases. If
you hanker after my delicacies, you own to
a desire simply to give your palate a passing
gratification. Your food is really more
wholesome and nourishing than mine, and,
if you were content, you would enjoy it
quite as much. The real fact is, that these
"delicacies of the season" are invented and
concocted for me, not because they are good
for me, or because there is any great amount
of-enjoyment in the consumption of them,
but because I have a vast deal of money ta
thru?' ~way. I merely conform to a fashion
in ordering and paying for them.
I begin with salmon, for instance. You
thinx you would like to have salmon every
day for dinner. Try it three times running.
Why, in old days before railways established
a ready and rapid communication with the
London markets, the servants of country
gentlemen residing on the banks of the Sev
ern, Tey, the Dee. andSpey, made a stipu
lation in their terms of engagements tnat
they would not be fed upon salmon more
than three times a weet. Pheasant and
partridge are delicacies of the season ; but
always to dine on pheasant and partridge
would be less tolerable than perpetual tread
and water. There is nothing for which a
man should be more thankful than an ever
recurring appetite for plain beef and mutton
—nothing except the means of indulging
that appetite. Those highly-spiced dishes,
called by fine French names, which are set
upon the tables of the rich and great, are
mere cooks tricks to stimulate a languid ap
petite. To hanker after such things is to
have a longing for physic, not for wholesome
food. Many grand folks who habitually eat
them are miserable creatures, who have to
coax their stomachs at every meal—pitiable
victims of dyspepsia and gout
People who envy the luxurious feasts of
the rich should know that the wise men
who sit down to them only make a pretense
of partaking of the so-called, good things
that are placed before them. I nave heard
that the' cabinet ministers, before they go
into the city to the Lord Mayor's banquet,
dine quietly at home on some simple ana
wholesome viands, knowing that there will
be many_dishes on the groaning tables of
elaborate productions oFcußhary art; but
she herself makes her dinner off a cut of
simple mutton. Cook as you will, there is
noi exceeding the enioyment of that carter
sitting by the roadside thumping his bread
and cheese I—All1 — All the Year Around.
IgL-Artemus Ward, in a recent letter,
thus gives an idea of reorganization :
I have never attempted to reorganize my
wife hut once. I shall never attempt it
again. I'd bin toapublic dinner, and had
allowed myself into drinkin' several peo
ple's health; and wishing to make 'em as
robust as possible, I continued drinkin' their
health ; until my own became affected. The
consekens was, 1 presented myself at Bet
sy's bedside, late at night," with considera
ble liquor concealed about my person. I
had somehow got possessun of a hosswhip
on my way home. Rememberin] some
cranky observashuns of Mrs. Ward's in the
morning. I snapt the whip putty lively, and #
in a loud voice said, "Betsy you need reoi
gauizin.' "1 have come. Betsv,' I continu
ed—crackin the whip over the bed —' 'I have
oome toreOtganlze you !'*
That nite I dreamed that somebody had
laid a hosswhip over me sev'ril times ; and
when I woke up I found she had. I hain't
drunk much of anything since, and if I ever
have any reorganizip job on hand 111 let it
out"
certain green customer, who was a
stranger to mirrors, stepped into the cabin
of one of our ocean steamers, and, stepping
in front of a large pier glass, which he took
for a door, said:
"I say, mister, when does this here boat
start?"
Getting no reply from the dumb reflection
before him, he again repeated—
"l say, mister, when does this bete boat
start?"
Incensed at the still silent figure, he
brokeout: -
"Go to thunder, you darned sassafras
colored, shock-headed bull- calf! You don't
I look as though you knew much, anyhow. "
WAS IT A "WATERFALL!"—In that ad
mirable book "The Canoe and Saddle," by
the lamented Theodore Winthrpp, in the
description of the manner of c atching salmon
by the Klalani Indians up in Puget's Sound
we find the following: "They don a head
gear like a" rat's nest,' confeetcd of wool,
feathers, furry tails, ribbon and rags, con
sidered attractive to salmon and highly
magical." This sounds very like a descrip
tion of the modern waterfall. Perhaps our
belles took the hint from the Klalams aud
think their "head gear,'will make them
more successful "fishers of men."
WAAT JW AN EDITOR? —Why be' A an in
dividual who wads newspapers, writes arti
cles on any subject, sets type, reads proof,
folds and mails, runs on errands, saws wood,
works in the garden, talks to all who call,
receives blame for a hundred things that's
no one's business but his own, works from
5 A. M. to 10 P. M., helps people get into
office (who forget ail about it aftcHjhrd),
and frequently gets cheated out of hiuf his
earnings. Who wouldn't be.an editor ?
How bravely a man can walk the earth,
bear the heaviest burdens, perform the se
verest duties, and look all men square in the
face, if he oniy bears in his breast a'dear
conscience, void of offence toward bod or
man ! There is no spring, no spur, no in
spiration like this. To feel that we have
omitted no task, apd left no obligation un
fullfllled, this fills the heart with satisfac
tion. and the soul with strength.
There is no deception in a bull dog it ii
. only the cur that snaak? up and bites you
whe n your back j§ turned.