flic |).n<]niw IS PUBLISHED I'.VERY FRIDAY MORNING, 1 Y I. R. DIRBORIUW AND JwlIN LU7, OS JULIANA St., opposite the Mcngci House REDFOHD, PENN'A TEH MS: §2.00 a year it" paid strictly in advtuice. ft not paid within Mix months 5230. It not paid within the year 53.01). (Sards. ATTORNETS AT LAW. J 11. LONGENECKER, . ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA., All business entrusted to his earc will receive prompt attention. JfS" Office with S. L. RCSSED, Esq., nearly ui'P >site the Court House. Oct. 16, 'Cfi.-Bm. K. J- w. PICKKKSON. \ J EYERS .t DTCKERSON, iVI ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PBKN'A., Office same as formerly occupied by Hon. W. P. s hell, two doors east of the Gazette office, will practice in the several Courts of Bedford county. Tensions, bounlie- and back pay obtained and the ■\ri base of Real Estate attended to. May 11, 'o6—lyr. I OH X T. KEAGY, . j ATTORNEY AT LAW. BEDFORD, PBHN'A., Offers to give satisfaction to all who may en trust their legal business to hint. Will collect i oneys on evidences of debt, and speedily pro irc bounties and pensions to soldiers, their wid , , or heirs. Office two doors west of Telegraph office. aprll:'66-ly. I B. CESSNA. J . ATTORNEY AT LAW, Office with JOHN CESSNA, on Julianna street, in ;he offiec formerly occupied by King -t Jordan, and recently by Filler pcrn!iona pertaining to Surgical or Mo hiinieai Dentistry carefully and faithfully per formed and warranted. TERMS CASH. Tooth Powders and Month W ash, excellent ar ticles, always on hand. jan6'6s-ly. I GiNTISTKY. U I. X. BOWSER, RESIDENT DENTIST, Woon- BJIITKT, Pa., visits Bloody Run three days ot each month, commencing with the second Tuesday of the month. Prepared to perforin all D< nt.il oper i ns with whiidi he may be favored. Term " ithin the reach of nil and strictly cuek except by i'il contract. Work to he sent by mail oroth wi.-e, must ho paid for when impression* are taken. augs, '64:tf. PHYSICIANS. I vR, GEO. C. DOUGLAS I ) Kespecttully tenders his profession*! services to the people of Bedford and vicinity. Residence at Maj. Washaba>:gh's. Office two doors west of Bedford Hotel, up stairs. aul7:tf \\7M. W. JAMISON, M. D., V\ BLOODY 'RUN, PA., Respectfully tenders his professional services to the people of that place and vicinity. [deeVlyr INK. B. F. HARRY, U Respectfully tenders his professional ser vices to the citizens of Bedford and ieinity. Office and residence on Pitt Street, in tho building formerly occnpicd by I>r. J. il. Ilofius. April 1, 1864—tf. I 1,. MAURI >I KG, M. !>.. *) . Having permanently located respectfully tenders his pofessional services to (he citizens of Bedford and vicinity. Office or. Juliana street, opposite the Bank, one door north ol Hall A Pal mer's office. April 1, 1864—tf. JEWELER, <&<•. \ BSALOM GARLICK, xY (lot k A Watchmaker and Jeweller, BLOODY RVN, PA. Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Ac., promptly rc ; aired. All work entrusted to bis care, warranted to give satisfaction. lie also keeps on hand and for sale WA TCIJ ES, CLOCKS, and JE W EL It Y. ip®* Office with Dr. J. A. Mann. my 4 I OHN REIMI ND, ►J CLOCK AND WATCH-MAKER, in the United States Telepraph Office, BEDFORD, PA. Clocks, watches, and all kind* of jewelry 1 roraptly repaired. All work entrusted to hi* care warranted to give entire satisfaction. [novS-lyr nANIEL BORDER, PITT STIIBET, TWO POORS WEST or THE REP I MI HOTEL, UEBKJRJV, PA. watchmaker and dealer in jewel UV. [SPECTACLES. AC. He kecpg on hund ft stock of flue Hold and Sil ver Watches, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Refin ! Classes, also Scotch Pebble Glasses. Gold W.ir.-h Chains, Breast Pins, Finger Rings, best quality of Gold Pens. He will supply to order any thing in his line not on band, apr. 28, 1865—zz. CANS AND SEALING WAX, at I' B. Mc. BLYMYKR A CO'S. ANTI-DUST PARLOR STOVES, (SPCARV .Patent) at R. Mc BLYMYKR A CO.'S ißcbCoro afuqntrcr. DI'RBORROW & LUTZ Editors and Proprietors. PENNSYLVANIA FOR THE UNION. SI" A. J. M. DOGAKXE. Hurrah for Pennsylvania! she's blazing up at last, Like a red furnace, molten with Freedom's rushing blast ! From all her mines the war-light shines, and out of her iron hills The glorious lire leaps higher and higher, till all the land it tills ; From valleys green and mountains blue her yeomanry arouse, And leave the forges burning, and the oxen at their ploughs: Up' from highland and headland they muster in forest and plain, By the blaze of their tiery beacons, in the land of Anthony Wayne. Hurrah .for Pennsylvania! her sons are clamp ing hands, Down from the Alleghanies, and up front Jer sey's sands; Juniata fair to the Delaware is winding her bugle bars ; And the Susquehanna, like warlike banner, is bright with Stripes and Stars ; And the huater sconrs his rifle, and the boat man grinds his knife, And the lover leaves his sweetheart, • aud the husband leaves his wife ; And the women go out in the harvest, and gather the golden grain, While the bearded men are marching in the land of Anthony Wayne. Hurrah for Pennsylvania ! through every vale and glen, Beating like resolute pulses, she feels the tread of men : From Erie's lake her legions break—from Tuscarora's gorge— And with ringing shout they are tramping out from brave old \ alley Eorge ; And up from the plains of I'aoli the minute* men march once more, And they carry the swords of their fathers, and the flags their fathers bore: And they swear as they rush to battle, that never shall cowardly stain Dishonor a blade or a banner in the land of Anthony Wayne. Hurrah for Pennsylvania! she fears no trait or hordes; Bulwarked on all her borders by loyal souls and swords, From Delaware's strand to Maryland, and bright Ohio's marge, Each freeman's hand is ber battle-brand, each freeman's heart her targe; And she stauds like an ocean breakwater in fierce Rebellion's path, And shivfrs its angry surges, and baffles its frantic wrath ; And the tide of Slavery's treason shall dash on her in vain— Rolling back from the ramparts of freedom— from the land of Anthony V ayne. . Hurrah for Pennsylvania! We hear her soun ding call, Ringing out Liberty's summons from inde pendence Hall! That tocsin rang with iron clang in the Rcvo * lution's hour, And 'tis ringing again, through the hearts of men, with a terrible glory and power: And all the people hear it—that mandate old iind grand : "Proclaim to the utmost nation that Liberty rules the laud !" And all the people chant it—that brave and loyal strain — On the borders of Pennsylvania —the land of Anthony Wayne. Hurrah for Pennsylvania! And let her sol diers inarch Under the Arch of triumph—the I nion's star lit Arch ! With banners proud, and trumpets loud, they come from border fray— From the battle-fields where hearts were shields to bar the invader's way 1 Hurrah for Pennsylvania! Her soldiers well may march Beneath her ancient banner— the Keystone of our Arch ! And all the mighty Northland will swell the triumph train From the land of Pennsylvania—the land of Anthony Wayne. THE VOICELESS. ])Y OLIVES WENDELI. HOLMES. We count the broken lyres that rest Where the sweet wailing singers slumber, Bui o'er their silent sister's breast, The wild flowers who will stoop to number? A few touch tin: magic string, And noisy frame is proud to win theni ; Alas tor those who never sing, But die with all their music in them ? Nay, grieve not for the dead alone, Whose song has told their hearts sad story. Weep for the voiceless who have known The cross without the crown of glory ! Not where Leueadian breezes sweep O'er Sappho's memory-haunted pillow ; But where the glistening night dews weep O'er nameless sorrow's church yard pillow. 0 hearts that break and give no sign, Save whitening lip and fading tresses, Till death pours out his cordinl, Slow-dropped from misery's crushing presses, If .Tinging breath or echoing chord To every hidden pang were given" What endless melodies were proved As sad as earth as sweet as heaven ! • A TRUTHFUL ANSWER —Bunkum, in the old North State is undoubtedly the health iest spot on earth, and it was on that ac; count that t-otue "lower country gentlemen were surprised one day to see aßunkumite at work upon an ominous looking "hole in the ground." Of'course they inquired what he was about? "Digging a grave, sir. " "Digging a grave? Why, I thought peo ple didn't die often here, do they?" "Oh no, sir, they never die but. once!" They never asked that question "but once.' A LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS The Residence o( llobcit Browning the . Poet—Visit to Ciotfried liinkcl and Other Celebrities. The foreign correspondent of the Cincin nati Commercial writes from London the following interesting literary gossip .• A POETICAL NEIGHBORHOOD. In the northern corner of London, near he beautiful open fields of Lvensal Green and Kilburn, there is formed by the junc tion of two Canals a very pretty lakelet, on one side of which is a noble row of houses forming Warwick Crescent, while the oth er side is built in villas and called Bloomfield Road. One of the finest houses in Warwick Crescent was the London residence of the gifted BROWNING, and is at ill occupied by her husband, the poet ROBERT BROWNING. Friends in passing, point to an upper win dow of the elegant mansion and say, ''that was the room in which Mrs. Browning stud ied and wrote." Almost any fine day, the past three years, you would have seen a crowd of people collected on the bridge and watching the magnificent rowing of a young fellotv on the little lake. That young fellow is the son, of Florentine birth, so of ten and so exquisitely referred to in the poems of Mrs. BROWNING. Whether or not he will overdevelop any of the literary genius of his parents, ho is unquestionably a splendid boatman. lie is now about seventeen ; goe3 to Oxford this year ; and will be a good "muscular christian," even if he does not excel as a poet and scholar. Just across the lakelet, in one of the villas of Bloomfield Road, lives another man of mark and fame in the world —a poet, an orator, a patriot and an exile. It is GOTFRIED KINK EE, the story of whose release from the Prussian prison by the daring ingenuity of Carl Shurz was recently told in a Paris paper, "L' JJir.n/mcnt," thence translated for the New York Times by its Paris correspondent and thence copied into the Commercial. As 1 have livcu for three years a neighbor of Dr. KLNLEL, and have had the honor of his acquaintance, I presented to him the num ber of the Commercial which contained the account of his escape. I had my doubts about its truth— for other versions of the story are in circulation here. Of course I did not obtain from him any verdict upouthis subject The exact truth will never be re vealed during the lifetime of the present generation—for it would cost the lives of many who aided the gallant Shurz, and who are still living within the grasp of German despotism. I remember as a boy. seeing Dr. Kink EE on his visit to the United States. What a magnificent specimen of manlv beauty, and even of majesty, he was, When, after the lapse of so many years, L met him again in London, I found the same noble dignity and lofty grace ; yet there were traces of time, of toil, of anxiety, disappointment and grief. His hair which once was as black as the raven's plume is now white ; he is get ting bald ; and that athletic frame, which Prussian ere Ity could not bow, is beginning to yield to the weight of years and sorrow. He has had deep dcmiostic sorrows, of which I need not speak ; and the great grief of his heart must b • the blighting of the patriot's hope lor Germany. He has toiled most industriously, first in F.dinhurg then in London. He has achieved the highest position as a lecturer on art and literature, and now the crown of honor and of success in his recenl appointment to a professorship in the renowned University of Zurich. He has accepted the position, and will enter upon its duties in S ptember. In that office of dignity he will probably spend his last days. Let u. hope that in the calmness of the University his muse will be roused to its old strains, and that ho will give to the world works worthy of his fame and the promise of his dawning nmuhood. Before taking my read !' 'rhi - beau tiful spot by the little London Lak< . let me mention the nam"-of some other celebri ties who live near. Just round a corner and down a street, you oomc into West bourne Tenraco. where lives the Hon. and Rev. BAPTIST NOEL, and where the great RICHARD COBDEN used to dwell. Seen front the back windows of Dr. K.INKEL S house, is the residence of CAMPANKLLA, the Italian exile, to call upon whom (RAR.IIJAL DA, two years ago. startled our quiet neigh borhood by his more than regal presence. A little way from CAMPANKLLA S house is s, street called St. John's Wood Road, where lives the artist Sir EDWIN LANDSEER. In the little churchyard of St. Mary's, which is near our lakelet on another side, are the graves of Mrs. SIPHONS ami of poor TOM IIAYPKN, the artist TUB. It EST DAY. We have long been satisfied that the best popular argument in favor of a strict Sab hath is, that to open the day to amusement and dissipation, would in the cud cause it to ! be given up to industrial pursuits, like other days, and so work immense injury to the operative classes, who would find them selves compelled to give seven days' work for six days' wage We are to see that this view has been taken in England. Mr. Hughes not only gave his own view, but said that the intelligent portion, the majority of the working classes sided with him. In England, as lately in this country, a laborious effort has been made to break | down the strictness of the current Sabbath observance, and throw open museums, pic- ; ture-galleries and libraries on the Lord's j day. The reason urged for this has been , that the working clas os, busy throughout thejweek, required such recreation on tho Sabbath. The movement has, happily, met j with a check from the right the working people themselves having common sense enough to see that Sunday recreation would soon lead to Sunday labor : that cab men, omnibus men and railroad employees would have to give up their Sunday rest, to carry crowds to places of amusement — that the custodians of these places would need to be on hand all day—and that, the sanctity of the Sabbath being invaded, its opportunities for refreshment and serene repose would be 1 >st. The very men for whose benefit the indulgence was demanded, have, therefore, raised their voice against it, and declared to the authorities that they desire nothing of the kind. Mr. Hughes, M. P. ("Tom Brown at Oxford,") at first an advocate for Sunday opening, has accord ingly now cast his weight against it, and even the Times intensely worldly as it usu ally is, raises its voice in favor of a quiet Sabbath, as affording by its sudden change of thought and pause in business, a refresh ment to the mind scarcely less than that of sleep to the body, and as giving opportuni ties for family intercourse and calm reflec tion, which it would Ie impossible other wise to obtain. — Christian Intelligencer. Ik you are looking gt a picture, you try to give it the advantage of a good light. Be as courteous to your fellow beings as you are to a picture. BEDFORD. Pa.. FRIDAY. NOVEMBER 3. 186 G. AN EDITORS QUALIFICATIONS. It is to he a mirror to give reflection of the outer world to your readers and to reeeivo reflection of all uncomplimentary sorts from them. It is to cater to their amusement, minister to their consolation, satisfy their curiosity, gratify their tastes for the mar velous, teach them morals, religion and pol itics, form their sentiments, lead them in wisdom's and folly's ways, show them to each other, record their good deeds and their bad deeds, publish their incomes, ad vertise their inventions, guide them in youth, tell their friends and enemies when they marry, and write their epitaphs. It is to make small men great and great men small, to build up and pull down, to puff quacks and to expose humbugs, crack up theatrical reputations and get full houses for nigger minstrels. It is to paint every day's picture on the canvass of the present, and when the figures are scarce to-produce the past. It is to be anybody's servant and everybody's master. It is to wield a mighty power and to be under its control. It is to make the public believe what you please, and to exercise the same privilege yourself. It is to publish canards and their contradictions. It is to make and unmake cabinets, to coerce presidents, raise armies, levy taxes, fight battles, make treaties, dissolve unions, man age reconstructions, pardon and condemn traitors, and run government generally. It is to work harder, more hours in a day, with less recreation, on less sleep and poorer pay, than any of your fellow-mortals. It is to be busy when your neighbors are idle, busier when they sleep, and busiest while they are enjoying a good time. It is to be always in a hurry, always under a press of business, always "setting up" when others are lying down, and always charitably "distributing" the result of our daily labor. It is to have your opinions always put to "proof" and seldom into practice. It is to advertise oth er people's wants, wishes and wares, to an nounce facilities for pleasure, to herald the approach of disease and the invention of cures for them, to make known who has been robbed, where, of how much, who is the robber, his personal history, his trial, sentence and its execution. It is to receive nice fruit and notice it, to he shown natural curiosities and describe them, to be every where at ail times, and be able to answer all questions on all subjects. It is to publish too much sentiment for one, too much poli tics for another, and too little news for all. It is to make a dozen enemies to one friend, and to be pitched into by anybody who choos es to consider himself aggrieved. It is to belabor your brother editor across the way on paper, aud shake hands cordially when you meet. It is to publish a paper for two dollars in advance that costs three, to wait for your pay till a collector has gotten fifty per cent, for getting it, and make a living by the operation. It is to take complimen tary tickets to everything and pay for them in complimentary notices. It is to be bored by friends suggesting how you should carry on your business, aud bullied by those whom you have hit in vulnerable spots. It is to win every libel suit commenced against you, and to lose money on your publishing that you sit up at nights with a job press to earn. It is a lifts of mingled good aud ill, trial and triumph, never-ending toil and never-beginning felicity, wherein you work out your allotted time with the "devil" al ways at your elbow, calling for your sole end in this life—a litle more copy — The Printer. MEANNESS IN BUSINESS. There is no greater mistake that a busi ne— man can make, than to be mean in his business, always taking the half cent, and nevef returning a cent for the dollars he has made or is making. Such a policy is vety | much like the fanner's who sows three peck of ,-ccd when lie ought to have sown live, and as a recompense for the leanness of his soul only gets ten when he ought to have got fifteen bushels of grain. Everybody has heard the proverb of '•penny wise and pound foolish. A liber al expenditure in the way of business is always sure to be a capital investment. There are people iu the world who are si: rt sighted enough fo believe that their interests can be best promoted by grasping! and clinging to all they can get, and never j letting a cent slip through their fingers. As a general thing it will be found —other I things being eipial—that he who is most j liberal is most successful in business. Of course we do not mean it to be inferred that a man should be prodigal in bis expendi- j tures, but that he should show to his cus tomers, if he is a trader, or to those he may i be doing business of any kind with, that in j all his transactions, as well as social relations j he acknowledges the everlasting fact v that j there can be no permanent prosperity or j good feeling "in a community where benefits j are not reciprocal, We know of instances where traders have j enjoyed the profits of hundreds of dollars , worth of trade, and yet have exhibited not ! the slightest disposition to reciprocate even to the smallest amount. Now what must ! necessarily result from such a course? Sim ply the loss of large profits per annum, in j the loss of trade which, under a more liberal ! system, might have been retained. The practice of some men seem to be to j make as little show in the way of business, as possible. Such a one, if a trader, takes no pains with the appearance of his store. Everyihing around him is in a worn out, dilapidated and dirty condition. To have it j otherwise would cost adollar for whitewash, and perhaps five for painting, and a few dollars besides, for cleaning up and putting I things in order. And so he plods on and ; loses hundreds of dollars worth of custom, ; for want of attention to these matters, while his more sagacious neighbor, keeping up with the times and having an eye to appear ances, does a prosperous business. Another will spend no money in any way to make business, for fear he should not get it back again.—-Consequently he sends out j no circulars, distributes no handbills, pub lishes no advertisements; hut sits down croaking about hard times —moaning over the future prospect ofnotes to pay, no money and no tiade; and comesout just where he might expect to come—short, while .his neighbor, following a different track —doing all that is necessary to be done to make busi ness, has business, isn't short, but has money to loan; and it would be just like him to get 12 per ct., perhaps, for the use of it; and we should not blame him for so The fact is, times have changed.—The manner of doing business is different now from what it used to be. It would be just as foolish to insist upon doing business in the old fashioned way, as it would be to in sist on travelling on an ox team instead of a rail road, to get news by old fashioned stages, instead of lightning telegraph. The times demand nun of enlarged, liberal, ener -1 gctic spuls —men who will keep up with the world as it goes; men of hearts too, who not only desire to go ahead themselves, but take ideasure in seeing others succeed; and who lave public spirit enough to do something for, and rcioiee in the prosperity of the people.— Worth and Wealth. ENGLISH AUTHORESSES. In a letter from London to the Round Ta ble, M. D. Conway gives the following graphic description of the personal appear ance of softie of the leading female writers of England : What Margaret Fuller's faHter ta d of her when she was a girl— in ccdil eejina —may be said of the mature woman who writes under the name of George Elliot. She is a finely shaped woman, and quite large, though not in the tense in which Hawthorne describes English female largeness. She is by no means corpulent, nor are there any suggestions of steaks and sirloins about her; but she is of large skeleton. She is not meagre either, but has the look cf being made out of fine clay. She is blonde, with very light auburn hair, clear, serene smiling eyes, with beautilul teeth. She has also gracious and easy manners, with an indefin able air of unworldliness—of having been made for large and fine societies, but never entered them. In a word, she is a woman who, though not handsome, would person ally satisfy her most ardent admirers. In remarkable contrast every way to Geo. Elliot is Miss Braddon, the great sensation al novelist. One would, seeing. her, natu rally doubt whether she could write her name. Mixed of lower clay, the exact em bodiment of the southern phrase "commo ny," with a color which looks like rouge, but is not, she is really indescribable here ; bat my reader may see her anywhere along Broadway at any time of the day. Miss Francis Power Oobbe is huge. The first impression she makes is that of a great mass ofmerry flesh and blood, weighing nearly three hundred and fifty pounds. She too often has to walk on crutches, which gives one a sad feeling that this enormous size is far from being the result of, or accompanied by health. But when one converses with Miss Cobbe he finds that the chief characteristic of her face and expression is delicacy. There is a lambent humor about her mouth, a sub tle perceptiveness blended with sweetness about the eye, a sensitiveness and sensibili ty in her manner, under which—as conver sation and acquaintance go on —the corpu lency seems to shrink, and the most charm ing physiognomy to be unsheathed. Miss Cobbe has an extraordinary power of con versation, is one of the wittiest of mortals, and wherever she appears has about her a group of fascinated young people—partieu larly of her own sex —by whose hursts of merriment one may know on entering a company where the authoress of "Intuitive Morals" is seated. Very likely there will be not far off Miss Isa Craig, editress of the Argosy, leading Secretary of the Social Science Society, who has a literary position in England quite be yond what one might imagine, and which is much more the result of her personal attrac tiveness than any of her published works. She is not pretty, is something of a German, has a net retrousse, is not blooming ; but she is young, has a pure, childlike expres sion, an eye full of delicate and refined feel ing, and a gentle voice that every one likes to hear. She is one of a few persons of" cul ture, and of a talent verging on genius, whom 1 have seen devoting themselves more to the work that will Jo good than to that which will bring the public gaze upon them. She is a near friend of George Elli ot, G. 11. Lewis, Herb rt Spencer, and oth ers "of that ilk," who admire her warmly. She will soon be married. One cannot do any justice to these letters in a brief i iter, nor can he even mention many of the ladle.- known to the literary world. There, for instance, is the soul of mystic meditation in the substantial and good looking person of Zschokke's best translator, Frederika-Rowan : there is the strange and vigorous, but not altogether at tractive. 31 rs. E. Lynn Linton ; and now and then, in a few companies, one may see the .-till brilliant eye and eager, scornful face of toe lion. Mrs. Morton. For some well boioved laces one must now, alas! look in vain ; they look down upon us from the walls. It would be hard to say how many hearts in England are still draped and lin gering comfortless about the graves of Mrs. (iaskell and Mrs. Browning.— The Printer. THE KKIHALi HACK IN ASIA. The conditions of the bridal race are these : The maiden has a eertain start giv en which she avails herself of to gain a suf ficient distance from the crowd to enable her to manage her steed with freedom, so as to assist in the pursuit of the suitor whom she prefers. On a signal from the father all the horses gallop after the fair one, and which ever first succeeds in encircling her waist with his arm, no matter whether disagreea ble or not to her choice, is entitled to claim her as his wife. After the usual delay inci dent upon sncli occasions, the maiden quits the circle of her relations, and putting her steed into a hand gallop, darts into an open plain. When satisfied with her position, she turns round to the impatient youths, and stretches out her arms toward them as if to woo their approach. This is the moment for giving the signal to commence the chase, and each of the impatient youths, dashing his. pointed heels into his courser's sides, darts like the unbonded hawk in pursuit of his fugitive dove. The savannah was exten sive. full twenty miles long and three in width, and as the horsemen sped across the plain the favored lover became soon appa rent by the efforts of the maiden to avoid all others who might approach her. At length, after nearly two hours' racing, the number of pursuers is reduced to four who are all together, and gradually gaining on the pursued. With them is the favorite ; but alas! his horse suddenly fails in his speed ; and, as she anxiously turns her head, she perceives with dismay the hapless position of her lover. Each of the more fortunate leaders, eager with anticipated tri umph, bending his head on his horse's mane, shouts at the top of his voice, 'T come, aiy I'eri ! I'm your lover." But she, making a sudden turn, and lashing her horse almost to fury, darts across their path, and makes for that part of the place where her lover is vainly endeavoring to goad on his weary steed. The three others instantly check their career ; but, in the hurry to turn back, two of the horses are dashed furiously against each other so that both steeds and ri ders roll over the plain. The maiden laughed (for she well knew she could elude the single horseman) and flew to the point where her lover was. But her only pursuer was rarely mounted, and not easily shaken off. Making a last and desperate effort, he dashed along-side the maiden, and stretching out his arm almost won the unwilling prize ; but she, bending her head to the horse's neck, eluded his grasp, and wheeled off. Ere the discomfit ted horseman could again approach her, her lover's arm was around her waist, and, amidst the shouts of the spectators, they turned towards the fort. WANT less than you have, and you will always have more than you want. VOLUME 39: XO 48 A FAST STOIIY. An Englishman was bragging'of the speed on English railroads, to a Yankee traveller seated at his side, in one of the cars of a "fast train' in England. The engine bell was rung*s the ears neared a station. It suggested to the Yankee an opportunity of "taking down his companion a peg or two." "What's that noise?" innocently inquired the Yankee. _ "We are approaching a town," said the Englishman; "they have to commence ring ing about ten miles before they get to a sta tion, or else the train would run by it before the bell could be heard! Wonderful, isn't it? I suppose they havn't invented bells in America yet?" "Why, yes," replied the Yankee, we've got bells, but can't use them on our railroad. We run so fast that the train always keeps ahead of the sound; no use whatever; the sound never reaches the village till after the train gets by." "Indeed! " said the Englishman. "Fact," said the Yankee, "had to give up bells. Then we tried steam whistles, out they wouldn't answer either. 1 was on a locomotive when the whistle was tried. We were going at a tremendous rate; hurricanes were nowhar, and I had to hold my hair on. We saw a two-horse wagon crossing the track, about five miles ahead, and the engin eer let the whistle on, screeching like a troo per. It screamed awfully, but it wasn't no use. The next thing I knew, I was picking myself out of a pond by the roadside, amid the fragments of the locomotive, dead horses broken wagon, and dead engineer lying be side me. Just then the whistle came along mixed up with some frightful oaths that I had heard the engineer use when he first saw the horses. Poor fellow! he was dead be fore his voice got to him. After that we tried lights, supposing these would travel faster than sound. We got one so powerful that the chickens woke up all along the road when we came by, suppo sing it to be morning. But the locomotive kept ahead of it still, and was in the dark ness with the light close on behind it. The inhabitants petitioned against it; they couldn't sleep with so much light in the night-time. Finally we had to station elec tric telegraphs along the road with signal men to telegraph when the train was in sight; and I have heard that some of the fast trains beat the lightning fifteen minutes every forty miles, but I can't say as that is true: the rest I know to be so." WIIAT THE AGE WANTS. A writer says; "The great want of this age is men. Men who are not for sale. Men who are honest, sound from the centre to the cireuuiferennee true to the hearts core. Men who fear the Lord and covetous ness. Men who will condemn wrong in friend or foe, in themselves as well as in others. Men whose consciences are steady as the noedlc to the pole. Men who will stand for the right if the heavens totter and the earth reels. Men who can tell the truth and look the world and the devil right in the eve. —Men that neither brag nor run. Men that neither swagger nor flinch. Men who can have courage^without whistling for it, and joy without shouting to bring it. Men >n whom the current of everlasting life runs still an 1 deep, and strong. Men caretul of God's honor and careless of men's applause. Men too larjre for sectarian -limits and too strong fur sectarian bands. Men who do not strive, nor cry, nor cause tlieir voices to bo heard in the street, but who will not fail, nor be discouraged, till judgment be set in the earth. Men who know the message and tell it. Men who know their place and fill it. Men who know their duty and do it Men who mind their own busines. Men who will not lie. Men who are not too lazy to work,nor too proud to be poor. Men who are willing to eat what they have earned, and wear what they have paid for. Men who know in whom they have believed. Men whose feet are on the everlasting rock. Men whe are not ashamed of their hope. Men who are strong with divine strength, wise with the wisdom that comcth from above, and loving with the love, of Christ. Men of God. " GIYF, US BACK OUR DEAD. —The discon solate Copperheads keep murmuring "Give us the Union as it was !" Let the answer of patriots he, "Give us back our dead !" Into the glassy eyes of Lyon put the elictric light that shone when he led the heroic charge. Restore to Ellsworth his young life and manly beauty. Give vigor to the wasted limbs oi Kearney. Bring back the war-worn veteran Sumner. Revive the McCooks, twin brothers of valor. Heal the savage wounds of Dalghrcn. Re animate the commanding form of Ellet. Call Sedg wick lroui his grave and Wadswortii from the silent republic of the dead. Breathe the breath of life into the nostrils of the gentle Lander. Return new strength to the sinewy arm of Ileno. Give back its music al cadence to the tongue of Baker, and cleanse his gray hair from the gore which our fellow Democrats shed upon it. Restore the enlivening smile of humanity to the care-worn face of Lincoln, now pallid under the bloody hand of a Democratic assassin, and bring back daylight to those glassy eye? that were so sleepless for the Union and Freedom. Take down the bereavement that hangs in the sorrowful dwellings of the peo ple, and bring back to life and homo the thousands of devoted men who dyed the land of treason red with blood to make it pure. Do this, 0 thou thrice damned spirit of rebellion, and thou mayest again have the Union as it was. Sadness and Literature One of the anamolies of literary history is that it has often been the lot of those men who have contributed largely to the mirth or recreation of others, to endure a more than ordinary share of misery and want in their own lives. The most entertaining portions of literature have been written by men whose hearts have been bowed down by sorrow, and at moments when that sor row has been heaviest. It was in the gloom of a mother's death, deepened by his own poverty, that Johnson penned the charming tale of "Rasselas;" it was inthechill deso lation of a bare and fireles garret that poor Goldsmith, the beloved vagrant of literature Hketclied the brightest pictures of homes and happiness the world has ever had, it was from a sick bed, in sore distress, and in a necessitous exile, that Torn Hood shook all England with laughter. The enchantment of Scoot, the satire of Jerrold, all the gems of English wit and humor, have been tin own ; out by gcuius in its most sorowful mo ments. INFLUENCE OF A TBI-E WIFE.— A sensible affectiouate, refined, practical woman makes a man,B nature all the stronger by making it more tender —puts a new heart into all his strivings—and gives dignity to all his pros perity, and comfort for his adversity. Every true life wields a still greater power j when it feels a living heart drawing it with I irresistible force into every position of duty. RATES OF ADVERTISING All advertisements for less than 3 months 10 cents per line for each insertion. Special notices onenalf additional. All resolutions of Associa tion, of a limited or individual intcrets and notices of marriages and deaths, ex ceeding five liner, 10 cts. per lipe. All legal noti ces of every kind, and all Orphans' Court and other Judicial sales, are required by law to be pub lished in both papers. Editorial Notices 15 cent per line. AH Advertising due after first insertion A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers. 3 months. 8 months. 1 year. One square $ 1.50 $ 8.00 SIO.OO Two squares fi.OO 9.00 16.00 Three squres 8.00 12.00 20.00 One-fourth column 11.00 20.00 35.00 Half column 18.00 25.00 45.00 Ono column 30.00 45.00 80.00 All sorts of Paragraphs. It is beauty's privilege to kill time, and time's privilege to kill beauty. The veil which covers the face of futurity is woven by the band of beauty. If we are loved by those around us, we can bear the hostility of all the rest of the world ; just as if we were before a farm fire, we need not care for all the ice in the Polar regions. We should give as we receive—cheerfully, quickly, and without hesitation, for there is no grace in a benefit that sticks to the fin gers. The truly illustrious are they who do not court the praise of the world, but? perform the actions which deserve it. Some sensible chap says, truly, that a person who undertakes to raise himself scandalizing others, might iust as well sit down on a wheelbarrow and undertake to | wheel himself. Dentist to his patient—"Hem, very odd. I must have made some mistake ; there's nothing the matter with this tooth. Never mind, 111 try again. Of course, I won't charge you for pulling more than one of them, no matter how many I take out." THE BEAUTY OP OLI> PEOPLE.— Men and women make their own beauty or their own ugliness. Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton speaks in one of his novels of a man "who was uglier than he had any business to be:" and if he could but read it, every human being carries his life in his face, and is good look ing or the reverse as that life has been good or evil. On our features the fine chisels of thought and emotion are eternally at work. Beauty is not tl e monopoly of blooming young men and white pink maids. There is a slow growing beauty which only comes to perfection in old age. Grace belongs to no period of life, and goodness improves the longer it exists. I have seen sweeter smiles on a lip of seventy than I ever saw on a lip of seventeen. There is the beauty of youth, and the holiness —a beauty much more sel dom met; and more frequently fonnd in the armchair by the fire, with grand children around itskuee, than in the hall-room or the promenade. Husband and wife who have fought the world side by side, who have made common stock of joy and sorrow, and grown aged together, are not unfrequently found curiously alike in personal appearance and in pitch and tone of voice—just as twin pebbles on the beach exposed to the same tidal influences, are each other's alter ego. He has gained a feminine something which brings his manhood into full relief. She has gained a masculine something which acts as a foil to her womanhood. A WOMAN'S FRIENDSHIP.— It is a won drous advantage to a man. in every pursuit or vocation, to secure an adviser in a sensi ble woman. In woman there is at once a subtile delicacy oftaet and a plain soundness of judgment, which are rarely combined to an equal degree in man. A woman, if she be really your friend, will have a sensitive regard for your character, honor and repute. She will seldom counsel you to do a shabby thing, for a woman-friend always desires to be proud of you. At the same time her constitutional timidity makes her more cau tious than youi malo friend. She, there fore, seldom counsels you to do an impudent thing. A man's best female friend is a wife of good sense and heart, whom he loves and who loves him. But, supposing the man to be without such a helpmate, female friendehip lie must still have, or his intellect will be without a garden, and there will be maDy an unheeded gap, even in its strongest fence. Better and safer, of course, such friendships where disparities of years or cir cumstances put the idea of love out of the question. Middle life has rarely this ad vantage ; youth and old age have. We may have female friendships with those much older, and those much youDger. than ourselves. Female friendship is to a man the bulwark, sweetener,' ornament of his existence. PUNGENT SERMON. —Jerouie, in one of his sermons, rebuked the women of his day in words so apropos to those of modern times that we cannot forbear copying them : "Ah ! I shall tell you who are the women that Scandalize Christians. Tbey are those who daub their cheeks with red, and their eyes with black —those who piaster their faces too white to be human—reminding us of idols—those who cannot shed a tear with out its tracing a farrow on the painted sur face of their faces—those whose ripe years fail to teach them that they are growing old —those whoso head-dresses are made up of other people's hair—those who chalk wrink les into the countcrlit presentiment of youth and those who affect the demeanor of bash ful maidens in the midst of troops of grand children." If he had added those who wear "tilting skirts," the picture would have been com plete. men killed each other in Mobile recently, for .a "lovely woman."— Home Journal. The Journal ought to have told the whole story. They not only killed, but ate each other up. The survivor was married next day to the "lovely woman" whom he had so deservedly won. — Mobile Register. "Xone liut the brave deserve the fair." A CLELIK in a merchantile establishment writes to a friend at home: "I have a nice time of it now a days—very little work to do —our firm don't advertise." A BRUTE. —One asked his friend why he married so little a wife? "Why," said he. "I thought you had known that of all evils you should choose the least!" NOT VERY DEFINITE.—An exchange says: "Peaches arc selling in New York at filly cents a pier." The price of a whole one is not stated. WHY is a newspaper like a toothbrush? D'ye give it up! Because everybody should have one of his own and not borrow his neighbor's. ea?*Booth the tragedian, had a broken nose. A lady once remarked to him : "I like your acting, Mr. Booth, but to be frank with you, I can't get overyour nose!" "No wonder, madam,' replied he, "the bridge is gone." WHEN you see a man on a moonlight n ght trying to convince his shadow that it's highly improper to follow a gentleman, you m.y be certain it is time for him to join a temperance society. "Is anybody waiting on you?" said a po lite dry goods clerk to a girl from the coun try. "i'es sir," said the blushing damsel, "that's my feller outside, he won't come in." •4$ - ' ■ -