Of Hfiltard gfmjnim
is PUBLISHED
EVERY FRIDAY MORNING
BY
I. R. DURBORROW AND JOHN LITZ,
ON
I ULIANA St., opposite the Mentre I II "use
BEDFORD, PENN A
TEKMA:
•2.00 a year if paid strictly m advance.
If not raid within si* niouihs
II not paid within Ibejear 5.t.00.
!_
grotaslmJ & stds
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
S. L. RUSSELL. '• "• LONGENET KER.
RUSSELL A LONGENECKER,
ATTORNEYS k COUNSELLORS AT LAW,
Bedford,
Will attend promptly and t0 all busi
ness entrusted to their attention
given to collections and the prosecution of claims
for Back Pay, Bounty, Pensions, Ac.
op Juliana street, south of the Court
House. April^lyr.
*. F. MEYERS '■ W. DICK'ERSON
MLYERS A DICKERSON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BEDFORD, PENN'A.,
Office same as formerly occupied by Hon. W. P.
Schell, two doors east of the Gazette office, will
practice in the several Courts of Bedford CoRnt y-
Pensions, bounties and back pay obtained and the
purchase of Real Estate attended to.
' May 11, '66— lyr.
JOHN T. KEAGY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BEDFORD, PENN'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.
STCESSNA,
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 attention. Military Claims, Pensions, Ac.,
speedily collected.
Bedford, June 9,1865.
J* M'D. SHARPS *• R - KERR
SHARPE A KERR,
A TTORNE YS-A T-LA W.
Will practice in the Courts of Bedford and 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 PALMER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Will promptly attend to all business entrusted to
his care.
Particular attention paid to the collection
of Military claims. Office on Julianna st., nearly
epposite the Mengel House.) june 23, 65.1y
J. R. JOHN LUTE.
DURBORROW A LUTZ,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BEBFORD, PA.,
Will attend promptly to all business intrusted to
their care. Collections made on the shortest no
tice. _ .
They are, also, regularly licensed Claim Agents
and will give special attention to the prosecution
of claims against the Government for Pensions,
Back Pay, Bounty, Bounty Lands, Ac.
Office on Juliana street, one door South of the
' MeneelHouse" and nearly opposite the Inquirer
office. _ April 28, 1865:t
ESPY M. ALSIP,
ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA.,
Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi
ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin
ing counties. Military claims, Pensions, back
pay, Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with
Mann A Spang, on Juliana street, 2 doors south
of the Mengel House. apll, 1804.—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.
KIMMELL AND LINGENFELTER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA.
Have formed a partnership in the practice of
the Law Office on Juliana Street, two doors South
of the Mengel House.
aprl, 1864—tf.
DENTISTS.
c. N. HICKOK. . J. G. MINNICH, 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.
Tooth Powders and Mouth W ash, excellent ar
tides, always on hand.
jan6'6s-ly.
DENTISTRY.
I. N. BOWSER, RESIDENT DENTIST, W OOD
BERRY, Pa., visits Bloody Run three days of each
month, commencing with the second Tuesday of
the month. Prepared to perform all Dental oper
ations with which he may be favored. 1 erms
within the reach of all and strictly cash except by
special contract. Work to be sent by mail or oth
wise, must be paid for when impressions are taken.
augs, '64:tf.
PHYSICIANS.
DR. GEORGE C. DOUGLAS
Respecttully tenders his professional services
to the people of Bedford and vicinity.
Residence at Maj. Washabaugh's.
Office two doors west of Bedford Hotel, up
stairs. aul '
WM. W. JAMISON, M. D.,
BLOODY RUN, PA.,
Respectfully tenders his professional services to
the people of that place and vicinity. [decB:lyr
DR. B F. HARRY,
Respectfully tenders his professional ser
vices to the citizens of Bedford and vicinity.
Office and residence on Pitt Street, in the building
formerly occupied by Dr. J. H. Hofins.
April 1, 1864—tf.
L. MARBOURG, M. D.,
. Having permanently located respectfully
tenders his pofessional services to the citizens
ofßedford and vicinity. Office or. Juliana street,
opposite the Bank, one door north of Hall A Pal
mer's office. April 1, 1864—tf.
JEWELER, &<'.
ABSALOM GARLICK,
CLOCK AND WATCH-MAKER,
BLOODY RUN, PA.
Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Ac., promptly re
paired. All work entrusted to his carc, warranted
to give satisfaction.
He also keeps on hand and for sale WATCH
ES, CLOCKS, and JEWELRY.
vsf*- Office with Dr. J. A. Mann. my 4
DANIEL BORDER,
PITT STREET, TWO DOORS WEST OF THE BED
FORD HOTEL, BEBFORD, 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.2B, 1865—zz.
RUPP A SHANNON, 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 prompt lymade. REAL ESTATE
bought and sold. feb22
DW. CROUSE
WHOLESALE TOBACCONIST,
On Penn street a few doors west of the Court
House, North side, Bedford, Pa., is now prepared
to set by wholesale all kinds of CIGARS. Ail
orders promptly filled. Persons desiring anything
in his line win do well to give him a call.
Bedford, Oct it '65.,
©cMorii aiumurev.
DURBORROW & LUTZ Editors and Proprietors.
SPIRIT VISITANTS.
BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.
When the hours of day are numbered,
And the voices of the night
Wake the better soul that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight ;
Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful fire-light
Dance upon the parlor wall ;
Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door ;
The beloved, the true hearted
Comes to visit me once more.
He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and pr ished,
Weary with the march of life.
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more !
And with them, the being beautious,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all those else that love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.
With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine —
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.
And she sits and gazes at me,
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies.
Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer ;
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.
0, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside ;
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died.
ENDURANCE.
How much the heart may bear and yet not
break 1
How much the flesh may suffer, yet not die !
I question much if any pain or ache
Of BOUI or body brings our end more nign :
Death chooses his own time; till that is sworn,
All evils may be borne.
We shrink and shudder at the surgeon's knife,
Each nerve recoiling from the cruel steel,
Whose edge seems searching for the quivering
life,
Yet to our sense the bitter pangs reveal,
That till the trembling flesh be piece-meal
torn,
This alone can be borne.
We see a sorrow rising in our way,
And try to flee from the approaching ill ;
We seek some small escape, we weep and
pray,
But when the blow falls, then our hearts are
still ;
Not that the pain is of its sharpness shorn,
But that it can be borne.
We wind our life about another life,
We hold it closer, dearer than our own ;
Anon it faints and falls in deadly strife,
Leaving us stunned, and stricken, and
alone ;
But ah ! we do not die with those we mourn;
This also can be borne.
Behold! we live through all things—famine,
thirst,
Bereavement, pain ; all grief and misery,
All woe and sorrow ; life inflicts its worst
On soul and body, but we cannot die,
Though we be sick, and tired, and faint and
worn,
Lo ! all things can be borne.
pißrrllaawuji.
"THE CALEDONIA TROUT POND.
One of the greatest curiosities of Western
New York —we may almost say one of the
greatest in the world —is the trout breeding
establishment of Seth Green, in Caledonia,
in Livingston county, to which we paid a
brief visit last week. His house and ponds
are on the border of the stream called the
Caledonia Springs, which flow in a vast vol
ume of the purest water from a small hol
low in the villiage of Caledonia, and after a
course of a mile unites in the villiage of
Mumford with Allen's creek, one of the
tributaries of the Genesee. The country
through which it flows is thickly settled,
and one of the richest and best farming
towns in the State. The surface of the land
is quite level, with banks but little above the
surface of the water. The stream, some
places, is very rapid, and in others - has a
gentle current of a mile or more per hour.
The Springs, as now situated, cover about
six acres, being dammed slightly for mining
purpose. They afford about eighty barrels
of water per second, and make a creek from
three to four rods wide, and from eighteen
inches to six feet deep, according to the cur
rent. The bottom was covered with small
white shells and gravel. The water is clear,
pure and perfectly transparent, so that any
object can be seen for three or four rods
very distinctly. Its temperature at the
Springs is forty-eight degrees the whole
year round, but down the creek, three-quar
ters of a mile, it rises in the hottest days in
summer to fifty-eight degrees by night, but
it is down in the morning to fifty-two de
grees. In winter it settles at times to forty
three degrees, but generally keeps up to
forty-five or forty-six degrees The temper
ature of the water to Allen's creek is very
even the year round, but very cold in sum
mer and quite warm in the winter, never
freezing in the coldest weather.
The water through the whole length of
the creek, as well as every stone, stick, weed
and blade of grass, is alive and literally cov
ered with numerous insects and larvae of
flies, summer and winter, so that the trout,
however numerous they are, easily obtain
all the food they want at all times of the
year. There is but very little surface water
that makes into tLe creek, hence the volume
of water is very even. The first settlers
of the country found the creek literally fill
ed with trout of great size and beauty, and
it has remained so to this day, notwithstand
ing it has ocen almost constantly fished,night
A LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS.
as well as day, from that time to this. The
largest and finest trout are taken in the eve
ning with a large artificial white or gray mil
ler.
The number of trout in this stream of a
mile in length is computed at upwards of
300,000, the largest of which are each four
or five pounds in weight. About four thou
sand pounds of trout are taken from the
creek yearly. Mr. Ainsworth, of West
Bloomfield, to whose excellent article pub
lished in the Tribune last winter we are in
debted for these statistics, says that on the
18th of December, 1865, he took with the
fly a hundred and ten fine trout in about
three hours, and on the next day took eigh
ty-five splendid fellows from one place.
These trout, he says, were as fat, active and
gamey as he ever saw them in any other
stream in May or June. Seth Green, the
celebrated marksman and fly-thrower of this
city, bought this creek in 1854, for the pur
pose of growing trout artificially, as well as
naturally, on an extended scale.
He has since prepared ponds, races, hatch
houses and hatching boxes and troughs for
3,000,000 of spawn. The pond containing
the largest fish and principal spawners was
first constructed. A strong volume of water
passes through it from the mainstream, the
quantity received and discharged being so
regulated that there is no danger of over
flowing. it enters under a wbeel which is
so exactly fitted to its place that not the
smallest fish can escape, and maintains a
regular motion. This pond is seventy-five
feet long, twelve feet wide and four or five
feet deep. Mr. Green's dwelling is over the
lower end of this pond, which affords shade
and a hiding place for the trout when they
choose to retire from view.
There are from eight to ten thousand fish
in this pond, and water enough for fifty
times that number. A great deal of food
passes through to them from the stream, but
they are fed every day with beef liver chop
ped, to which they rush in the most excited
manner, leaping out of the water, and tug
ging voraciously two or three at a time at
the same piece. They are so tame that they
will take the liver from a spoon or even from
the hand, and will even bite the hand itself,
as we can testify from the sharp experience
of their teeth.
To a lover of fish no finer sight can be
presented than the sight of this pond, swar
ming with splendid trout, as plainly visable,
so clear is the water, as if they were in the
open air. It is a gigantic aquarium, which
probably has no rival in the world, and the
mere sight of which will repay the trouble
and expense of a long journej'. But besides
this main pond Mr. Green has another close
by it fifty by thirty feet, which contains
about 20,000 two year old trout and still an
other, filled with countless multitudes of
yearnlings, and lastly, a long pond or brook,
in which are hundreds of thousands of this
year's hatching.
The hatching house is a simple, inexpen
sive structure of wood, forty by twenty feet
high. It has three screened windows, ad
mitting a soft light, and excluding the glare
of the sun. Being roofed, the spawn and
young trout are perfectly protected from
storms or hail, which in shallow water might
in one minute destroy thousands of vnunc
or a ncavy and sudden fall of rain
might wash them from the troughs where
they are kept for several weeks after leaving
the hatching troughs. These are three in
number.
The water is brought from the main
stream through bored logs and received into
a tank six feet long, two feet eight inches
wide, and a foot and a half deep, from
whence it passes through six strainers into
a trough running entirely across the end of
the house, and from thence by small gates
(which are regulated at pleasure to increase
or diminish the flow of water) it passes into
the several hatching troughs, &c. These
troughs are subdivided, or rather two are
placed together, and between them are pas
sages for conveniently distributing the
spawn, inspecting the. operation of feeding
and hatching the young fish. By wooden
bars the troughs are partitioned into small
squares.
By this arrangement the force of the cur
rent is checked at each bar, and the front are
prevented from huddling in a mass and be
coming suffocated. The space on one side
is a platform, having a stove and the various
conveniences for feeding, k". At one end
is a pond eighteen feet square, with about
two feet depth of water. If by any means
trout escape from the troughs, they cannot
get beyond the pond, and the room is ample
for keeping millions until they are two or
three inches long. From this pond the wa
ter passes into the main stream. The hatch
ing house and troughs, though not exten
sive, are fulfilling the highest anticipations
of their persevering and enterprising pro
prietor. The bottom of the trough is cover
i ed with small, thin gravel, over which the
water passes by gentle flow.
Thus prepared, they are ready for the re
ception of the impregnated spawn, which
are spread evenly over the gravel by a dex
trous movement of the water, the spawn
not being touched or allowed to come in con
tact with anything but the water and gravel.
Impregnated spawn sink to the bottom, in
water running with considerable force, and
will remain stationary, if undisturbed, until
the young fish begin their efforts for a re
lease from confinement. In from fifteen to
twenty-six days after the spawn is deposit
ed, the young fish is discernible with the
j naked eye.— Syracuse Journal.
THE SUNNY SIDE.
We advise everybody to live on the sunny
! side of their houses. The room in which the
family spends most of its time should be on
the side on which the sun can find its way
into it. Let the parlor, if it be seldom used,
be on the shady side. We observe that there
is not a cottager so ignorant that she will not
set her plants, if she has taste enough to
grow them, in the east window in the morn
ing, and at noon carry them to a south win
dow, and in the afternoon put them in the
west window. But perhaps she is careful
to keep her children in the shade, and her
precious self, so far as possible, out of the
rays of the sun. The plants, in obedience
to natural law, are kept healthy, while the
children and mother, being kept in the
shade, suffer in consequence.
Light is beginning to be considered a great
curative agent. The chief advantage in go
ing to the country is to get into the sunshine,
and to be in the pure breezes. If we desire
merely to keep cool, we should stay in the
shady city. People talk of "hot walls" and
"burning pavements it is much hotter in
the country, for the breezes that play there
in midday only bring heated air in from out
doors. But in the city the breeze brings
air in from the shady side of the street, and
the lower rooms of a city house are much
cooler in midday than the exposed houses
of the country.
Parents can do nothing better for their pu
ny, sick boys than to put them on a farm for
two or three summers, and let the sunbathe
them the livelong day. They will, by such
a life, grow rapidly, and become tough,
brawny and broad. We have seen this tried
to the highest advantage in more .than one
i instance under our advice.
BEDFORD. Pa.. FRIDAY. APRIL JL9, 1867.
CHILDREN AND WEALTH.
Many are deterrec from marriage for the
fear of the expenseof supporting a family.
It is a great mistake. A single man spends
more in suppers aal cigars that would sup
port a wife. Few men lay by much until
they have attaincdithe object to lay by for,
and thus it comes 10 pass that a family is
now, as anciently, the best of hostages to
fortune: and none ire so much to be trusted
as those who have the large families. Still
as a family increaies aiound a man, he is
very apt to feel as f five or six children were
a constant drain ujon his efforts at accumu
lation, and that children were poverty in
sted of wealth. Bit it is not so, at least in
every respect, or iven on the largest, and
broadest sort of sctle.
Thus for instance, in a national point of
view, our first method of estimating the
greatness of States, is by the number and
rapid increase of its inhabitants. Every
child born in the tnited States makes the
nation so much the .-JMJre respected abroad
and powerful at tome, so much the more
wealthy and intellgent, for on the average
each citizen produces more of wealth than
he consumes, and ii some department or
other adds to the accumulating stock of wis
dom and experience. Now a nation is but
a great family, so may we best test our views
of what is best for a'family by what is good
for a nation.
Children are weak, and need support
when the parents arc strong to support
them, iu order that they may be strong when
parents are weak, and be able to support
them; and thus is made up that bundle of
strength which a large family ever generates.
Each wisely brought up and well educated
child is the best or all investments of a pa
rents wealth of money, of affection, and of
effort. "Happy is the man that hath his
quiver full of them. " They are "as arrows
in the hands of a mighty man.'"
Children keep a man youug. He who
mingles only with those older than himself
soon grows old; but he who accustoms him
self to mingle large';' and freely with those
younger than he, as suprisingly retains his
youth.
It is a remark of Bulwer, a close observer
of human nature, that it is a good sign for a
young man to love the society of men who
are older than himself, and for an old man
to love the company of those younger. It
is thus that youth acquires the experience
and wisdom of age. ana that age retains the
vigor, freshness and elacticity of youth.
Children have in themselves a fund of wealth
in the overflowing affections which God has
given them, which they impart to all who
come near or have much to do with them.
If they call out the energy of a man, and
make him work hard in the hours of busi
ness, they relax and refresh him with their
warmth and geniality and absence of care in
the hours of relaxation, and of throwing it
off.
THE BENEFIT OF BEING KNOCKED
ABOUT IN THE WORLD.
It is a good thing for a young man to be
"knocked about in the world," though his
soft hearted parents may not think so. All
youths, or if not all, certainly moeteen-twen
tiothc of the audi total, enter life with a sur
plusage of self conceit. The sooner they
are relieved of it the better. If, in measur
ing themselves with wiser and older men
than themselves, they discover that it is un
warranted, and get rid of it gracefully, of
their own accord, well and good; if not, it is
desirable, for their own sakes, that it be
knocked out of them. A boy who is sent to
a large school soon finds his level. His will
may have been paramount at home, but
school boys are democratic in their ideas,
and if arrogant, he is sure to be thrashed
into recognition of the golden rule. The
world is a great public school, and it soon
teaches a new pupil his proper place. If
he has the attributes that belong'to a leader
he will be installed in the position of a
leader; if not, whatever his own opinion of
his abilities may be, he will be compelled to
fall in with the rank and file. If not des
tined to greatness, the next best thing to
which he can aspire is respectability; but
no man can either be truly great or truly re
spectable who is vain, pompous and over
bearing.
By the time the novice has found his
legitimate social status, be the same high or
low, the probability is that the disagreeable
traits of his character will be softened down
or worn away. Most likely the process of
abrasion will be rough, perhaps very rough,
but when it is all over, and he begins to see
himself as others see him, and not as reflec
ted in the mirror of self-conceit, he wi 11 be
thankful that he has run the gauntlet, and
ai rived, though by a rough road, at self
knowledge. Upon the whole, whatever
loving mothers may think to the contrary,
it is a good thing for youths to be knocked
about in the world; it makes men of them.
GET ENOUGH SLEEP.
We have often heard young men remark
that four or five hours, sleep was all they
wanted, and all that the human system re
quired. The habit of going without suffi
cient sleep is injurious. Thousands, no
doubt, permanently injure their health in
that way. We live in a fast age, when every
body seems to he trying to pervert the order
of Nature. If fo'ks-will persist in turning
night into day, it is not to be wondered at
that few last out the allotted term of life.
No matter what may be a man's occupation
—physical or mental, or like Othello's,
"gone," and living in idleness —the consti
tution cannot last, depend upon it, without
a sufficiency of regular and refreshing sleep.
John Hunter, the great surgeon, died sud
denly of spasmodic affection of the heart, a
disease greatly encouraged by the want of
sleep. In a volume just pubhlised by a
medical man there is one gieat lesson that
hard students and literary men may learn,
and that is, that Hunter probably lulled
himself by taking too little sleep. "Four
hours rest at night, and one after dinner,
cannot be deemed sufficient to recruit the
exhausted powers of the body and mind."
Certainly not; and the consequence was that
Hunter died early. If men will insist on
cheating sleep, her "twin sister, death,"
will avenge the insult.
OVERWORKED WOMEN.— An over work
ed woman is always a sad sight—sadder, a
great deal, than an over worked man, be
cause she is much more fertile in capacities
of suffering than a man. She has so many
varieties of headache —sometimes as if Jael
were driving the nail that killed Sisera into
her temples—sometimes letting her work
with half her brain, while the other half
throbs as if it would go to pieces -some
times tightening around the brows as if her
cap band were Luke's iron crown —and then
her neuralgias, and her backaches, and her
fits of depression, in which she thinks she
is nothing, and those paroxysms which men
speak lightly of as hysterical—convulsions,
that is all, only not commonly fatal ones —so
many trials which belong to her fine and
mobile structure, that she is always entitled
to pity, when she is placed in conditions
which develop her nervous tendencies. — Dr.
0. W. Holmes.
NIGHT WORK.
Many of the most brutal murders and
greatest crimes committed in the city of
New York, are perpetrated by persons un
der twenty-five years of age. This shows a
very early corruption of morals, and as an
eminent jurist once said, is easy traceable
to the habit of being from home alter dark.
Lord Shaftsbury stated that in nearly all the
cases of great crimes which came before the
courts of evidence showed that the moral
character became vitiated between the ages
of eight an sixteen. These terrible facts
put together should make every city parent,
especially, tremble ; and if it should lead to
the adoption of the following suggestions, it
would save many a heart from going down
in sorrow to the grave, or from embittered
old age.
Do not allow your children to form the
habit of "going home" to spend the night
with their companions—no, not once in a
year.
Keep them off the streets after sun-down
unless you are with them.
Do all that is possible to have a loving,
cheerful and happy fireside, as a means of
weaning them from the street. Much can
be done in this direction by providing
amusements, and having the children occu
pied in something interesting, profitable or
now.
Keep the birthdays, let them be occasions
of harmless festivities ; arrange that all hol
idays, too, shall be observed appropiiately.
Let the father and mother remember that
the exhibition before their children of a
loving, affectionate, and quiet deportment
towards one another in the home circle is a
powerful bond of union in a family ; the
very sight of it wakes affectionate sympa
thies in the hearts of children, and cherish
es the same delightful feelings in themselves
and soon the house becomes the,home of
love and qtiiet delight. Within half a mile
of us there are quite a number of families
of this sort, some of them among the weal
thiest in the city, but it is singular to ob
serve that in almost every case it is in con
sequence of the mother's all pervading in
fluence —mothers who are quiet, gentle, la
dy-like, but firm in the right, always. Ma
ny homes are made distasteful to children
by incessant restrictions and criticisms, by
innumerable rules and regulations. A house
hold is better regulated by an affectionate
pliancy than by an inflexible rigidity ; yield
ing in non-essentials, but firm as a rock in
all questions of right and wrong. The night
work from eight to sixteen determines the
life character of millions. —Hall's Journal.
A LETTER TO HIS
WATCHMAKER.
FRIEND WOOSTER:— I herewith send
thee my pocket clock which greatly stand
cth in need of thy friendly correction ; the
last time he was at thy friend's school he
was no ways reformed, nor even in the least
benefitted thereby ; for I perceive by the in
dex of his mind, that he is a liar, and the
truth is not in him ; that his motions are
wavering and irregular ; that his pulse is
sometime quick, betokening not an even
temper ; at times he waxeth sluggish, not-
TritHotftmimg 1 frcqueucly hiu. ,
he should be on his duty, as thou knoweeh
his name denoteth, I find him slumbering
and sleeping, or as the vanity of human rea
son phraseth it, I catch him napping. Hence
I think he is not right, in the inward man.
Examine him therefore, and prove him, I
beseech thee, thoroughly, that thou may'st
being well acquainted with his inward frame
and disposition, draw from him the error of
his ways ; and show him the path wherein
he should go. It grieves me to think, and
when 1 ponder thereon, I am verily of opin
ion that his body is foul, and the whole
mass is corrupted. Cleanse him. therefore,
with thy charming physic from all pollution,
that he may vibrate and circulate according
to truth. I will place him a few days under
thy care, and pay for his hoard as thou re
quirest it. I entreat thee, friend Henry,
to demean thyself on this occasion with a
right judgment according to the gift which
is in thee, and prove thyself a workman
that need not be ashamed. And when thou
layest the correcting hand on him, let it be
without passion, lest thou drive him to de
struction. Do thou regulate his motion for
the time to come, by the motion of that
light that ruleth the day, and when thou
findest him converted from the error of his
ways, and more conformable to the above
mentioned rules, do thou send him home,
with just bill of charges, drawn out by the
spirit of moderation, arid the root of evil
shall be 6ent unto thee.
A CURSE TO THE COUNTRY
Next to the inordinate use of intoxicating
beverages we may probably class the haste
to become rich as a deplorable evil —the de
sire and expectation of getting something
for nothing, or for a very inadequate equiva
lent, if we may use the word in such a sense
—which lead so many of our youth to aban
don trades in order to swell the crowds of
clerks, lawyers, doctors, Ac., now and always
so largely in excess of the demand for their
services. A desire to he rich is not in itself
wrong, but the tendency is not to scruple at
the means, and to end in disgrace and ruin.
There are cases where a young man is
justifiable in getting into debt —there are
cases where a few years of a struggle with
indebtedness may do him good—but these
are "the exceptions which prove the rule"
correct that debt is incompatible with inde
pendence, and should be avoided. Borrow
ing money on interest is a curse to any young
man, eating up his earnings and keeping
him poor. The man who saves even a few
dollars a year, and invests it at interest,
will eventually become rich, whilst the one
who borrows to make up the deficit occa
sioned by extravagance, or venturing beyond
his means, will undoubtedly struggle all his
life to keep his head above water.
- Avoid "speculation," mistrust all schemes
promising enormous returns, whether lotter
ies, faro banks, or more respectable modes
of gambling, be assured that any gains that
may accrue from them are more than lost by
the taste they give for inordinate risks. It
you call to mind the lucky individuals who
have become wealthy in this way in the past
twenty years, you will find nearly all of them
poor now —the money has gone as rapidly as
it came, and is teaching the same lesson to
its present possessors. A dollar earned by
honest industry, mental or physical, is worth
more to the man who earns it than tenfold
gained by speculation, and is not near so
likely to be expended foolishly or risked
recklessly. He who can save such a dollar
will more probably accumulate wealth in life
than the one without industry who makes
more money with less work. It is deplora
ble how many of our young unmarried men
waste their earnings in folly and dissipation,
and are "to poor to get married" —or, if
they marry, have acquired such tastes and
habits as tend to render that relation any
thing hut an agreeable one. There can be
no good reason for a young lady and healthy
single man, having no one dependent upon
him, not saviog something every year for in
vestment, and it is to be regretted so few do
so.
VOLUME 40; NO. 15.
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE,
We have heard of President Finney's
sermon from the text, "!Jheir feet shall
slide," and how as he preached his perora
tion, people would clutch the seats to keep
from going over into the pit of eternal de
spair, while some would shriek, and others
would cry "don't." We have heard also of
Gougli's wonderful power over audiences—
raising them up from their seats, affecting
them to tears, or compelling them to laugh
at his will. But we have never heard of any
speaker making the deception so perfect, or
the matter so real, as in the recitation of
the little poem, "Twenty years ago," bythe
elocutionist, Prof. Griffith. The poem in
troduces two friends and schoolmates, one of
whom has been recently visiting the old
homestead, school house and play grounds
—and he gives his impressions to his friend.
We quote a few lines :
"I've wandered to the village, Tom, I sat beneath
the tree,
Upon tho school house playing ground, which
sheltered you and me ;
But nono were there to greet me, Tom, and few
were left to know
Who played with us upon the green, some twen
ty years ago.
The grass was just as green, Tom, bare-footed
boys at play
Were sporting just as wc did then, with spirits
just as gay:
But master sleeps upon the hill, which, coated
o'er with snow,
Afforded us a sliding place, just twenty years
ago."
When the elocutionist reached the stanza
following, his utterance was slow and
thoughtful, as if trying to recall the name
of the old game :
"The boys were playing souie old game—beneath
that same old tree,
I—Jo—forget—the name—just now, —you've
played the same with me
On that same spot. —'Twas played with knives
by throwing—so—and—so—"
As the speaker made gestures and mo
tions describing the game, an old gentleman
in the back part of the house arose and said
distinctly, " Mumblety peg, sir, mumblety
peg." It was so real to the old man that
he* thought he would help the speaker out
of his difficulty by suggesting the name.
Of course it brought down the house. —
Charlotte Republican. _
UNFORTUNATE—VERV.
A young medical student from Michigan,
who had been attending lectures in New
York for some time, and who considered
himself exceedingly good-looking and fas
cinating, in ade a deadly onslaught on the
heart and fortune of a blooming young lady
in the same family with him. After a long
seige the lady surrendered. They were mar
ried on Wednesday, in the morning. The
same afternoon the young wife sent for and
exhibited to the astonished student a ''beau
tiful little daughter aged three years and a
half.
"Good heavens !" then you was a wid
ow ?" exclaimed the student.
"Yes, my dear, and this is Amelia, my
youngest; to-morrow, Augustus, James and
Reuben will arrive from the country, and
tueu 1 cWall have my children together once
more."
The unhappy student replied not a worn,
his feeling were too deep for utterance. The
"other little darlings" arrived. Reuben
was six years, James nine, and Augustus a
saucy boy of twelve. They were delighted
to hear they had a new papa, because they
could now live at home, and have all the
playthings they wanted. The "new papa,"
as soon as he could speak, remarked that
Augustus and James did not much resemble
Reuben and Amelia.
"Well, no," said the happy mother; "my
first husband was quite a different style of
man from my second —complexion, temper
ament, the color of hair and eyes—all dif
ferent."
This was too much. He had not only
married a widow, but was her third hus
band, and the astonished stepfather of four
children.
But the fortune, thought he ; that will
make amends. He spoke of her fortune.
"These are my treasures," said she, in
the Roman matron style, pointing to her
children.
The conceit was quite out of the Michi
gander, who, finding that he had made a
complete goose of himself, retired to a farm
in his own native State, where he could
have a chance of making "his" boys useful,
and make them sweat for the deceit practi
ced upon him by their mother.
A TRUE GENTLEMAN.
He is above a mean thing. He cannot
stoop to a mean fraud. He invades no se
cret in the keeping of another. He takes
selfish advantage 01 no man's mistake. He
is ashamed of inuendoes. He uses no igno
ble weapons in controversy. He never stabs
in the dark. He is not one thing to a man's
face and another to his back. If by accident
he comes into possession of his neighbor's
counsels, be passes upon them instant obliv
ion. He bears sealed packages without
tampering with the wax. Papers not meant
for his eye, whether they flutter in at his
window or lie open before him in unregarded
exposure, are sacred to him. He profanes
no privacy of others, however the lentry
sleeps. Bolts and bars, locks and kevs,
bonds and securities, notice to trespassers,
are not for him. He may be trusted out of
sight—near the thinnest partition—any
where. He buys no office, he sells none, in
trigues for none. He would rather fail of
his rights than win them through dishonor.
He will eat honest bread. He tramples on
no sensitive feeling. He insults no man.
If he has a rebuke for another, he is straight
forward, open and manly. He cannot de
scend to scurrility. Billingsgate don't lie on
his track. Of woman, and to her, he speaks
with decency and respect. In short, what
ever he judges honorable he practices to
ward every man.
BE ECONOMICAL. —If the poor house has
any terrors for you never buy what you
don't need. Before you pay seventy-five
dollars for a coat, young man, find out wheth
er your lady would not be just as glad to
see you in one that cost half the money. If
she would not let her crack her own hazle
nuts aud buy her own clothes. When you
see a man spending two or three dollars a
week foolishly, the chances are five to one
that he will live long enough to know how
many cents there are in a dollar, if he don't
he's pretty sure to bequeath that privilege
to his widow. When a man asks you to
buy that for which you have no use, no
matter how cheap it is, don't say yes until
you are sure that some one else wants it in
advance. Money burns in some folks' pock
ets, and makes such a big hole that every
thing that is put in drops through past find
ing.
Louisville newspaper, in noticing
the return of Humphrey Marshall to that
Elace, adds that "the bar of Louisville is to
e congratulated on the accession to its
strength." The Chicago Time* wants to
know which bar ?
RATES
cents per for
communications
of
cecding five 10 cts.
ccs of every kind, and all
other Judicial sales, are required Vylffw to b puoMI
lished in both papers. Editorial Notices 15 cents'
per line. All Advertising due after first insertion.
A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers.
3 months. 6 months. 1 year
One square $ 4.50 $ 6.00 $lO.OO
Two squares... 6,00 9.00 16.00
Three squres 8.00 12.00 20.00
One-fourth column 14.00 20.00 85.00
Half column 18.00 25.00 15.00
One column 30.00 45.00 80.00
TIME PASSING.
Have you ever seen tlto.se marble Tatues
in some public square or garden, which wt
has so finished with a perennial fountain,
that through the lips, or through the hands,
the clear water flows in a perpetual stream,
on, on, on forever; and the , marble stands
there —passive, cold, making ho effort to ar
rest the gliding water? It ©so that time
flows through the hands of mfcn. Awift, never
pausing till it has run itself out. and there
is the man, petrified ito alha
not feeling what it is which is passiB t awsy
forever. ; : .
It is so, just so, that the destiny of nine
men out of ten accomplishes itself, slipping
away from them, aimless, useless, till it UP
too late. And we are asked, with all thfi
solemn thoughts which crowd around aq
approaching eternity, what lias been oar life'
and what do we intend it shall be? Yestef
day, last week, last year— they are gone.
Yesterday, for example, was such a day
never was before, and never can he again.
Out of darkness and eternity it was born,
new. fresh day; into darkness and eternity
it sank again forever. It had a voice calling
to us, of its own. Its own work, its own
duties, what were we doing yesterday? Id
ling, whiling away the time in idleness and
luxurious literature —not as life's relaxation
but as life's business? thrilling our heart
with the excitement of life? continuing
now to spend the day most pleasantly?
Was that our duty? Sleep, brethren: all
that is but sleep. And now jet us retitea~
ber this, there is a day coming when-that
sleep will be rudely broken with a shock;
there is a day in our future lives whea our
time will he counted, not by years, nor by
months, nor yet by hours, but by minutes,
the day when unmistakable symptoms shall
announce that the messengers of death have
come to us. — F. W. Robertson.
NEVER GIVE UP. FC } §&/:
Many a premature death has oceured in
consequence of up. The sfektrc;
becomes discouraged, thinks he U going to
die, and dies. Friends think they Save
done all they could, death is inevitable, nd _j
let disease take its course. There can be no
doubt but that in many such cases hope .
still cherished, and the persevering use of :
means, might have saved useful life.
So also in the struggles of active life. The
first speech of Disraeli in the House of Com- *
mons, was a complete failure, his speech it
is said being stifled in the derisive laughter
of the House. He thus closed: l 'l shall sit -
down now, but the time will come
will hear me." Numbers have sunk into ®
insignificance under a less rebuff. Disraeli
was made of sterner stuff. Though it took (1
him seven years to recover from his disas- Nj
ter, he redeemed his promise, anion bee ui- n
ing chancellor of the exchequer, "ehi injj
the same garments he had worn at the umC
of his renowned failure, delivered to a close
ly crowded assemblage the most brißiant
and the ablest budget speech that had isien |
heard there since the days of William Pittr*' (
Every one should feel that he is immortal i
till his work is done. "Try again," is-aa 1
good for the adult as for the child. If con
vinced that our cause is wrong, the soeujer i
it is renounced the better. Cease toAo
evil; but when contending for !--; Igah .
admit no defeat a* final. We learnflCflßjfcffl
times more from a failure than a
and turn it to better account. Such shotntt J
ever be our aim. Use all honorable means* 1
rely on the ultimate triumph of right, -
severe in the effort to deserve success* and', I
failure will never be inscribed on 3'£jl£-4 r ?.'-1
work. The irresolute and half-hearted hwjjfj
no good to expect, for that would only ue a
premium of imbecility.
THE UNCHANGING FRIEND.
Is there a more frequent cause of com
plaint than the changes which come over ,
our earthly affairs? Where is the bring
who, in the course of his life, has not found
reason to reiterate the words, "Whon\ can ,
we trust?" We know not, when we give our
respect, our friendship, our confidence to a
human being that the compact may last for
an hour. A change of fortune, a rise in
rank, a slight fault, or even a whim, may
send our affections back into our wounded J
hearts. _ Ji
A concurrence of circumstances which
could not have been foreseen by us is alwawudj
ready to betray our dependence on arraroj&l
ments which we fancied had been -
reflection and sagacity, as we walked oit in 1
the fond belief of having done well for our
selves. So that, though sorely needing a
safe anchorage, frail and exposed beings as U
we are, we often find ourselves on shifting
sands or nearing fatal rocks. a
To whom, then, shall we go, when oil* y
own resources fail to meet our newsaU(ss, yj
. and our friends sympathize, but are power
less to avert failure?
To whom, then, shall we go, but tobwty-<
who is touched with the feeling of our iufir- J
mities, and who alone can offer a security of <fl
refuge which meets our helplessness to the I
utmost; an unchanging and unchangeable 1
friend—"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, }
and to day and forever?" ZELL.
FROZEN KINDNESS.—The world is full of
kindness that never was spoken, and that is
much better than no kindness at all. The
fuel of the stove make the wood warm, but
there are great piles of fallen trees lying
among rocks on the top of the hill, where
nobody can get them ; these do not im*kr:;,j
anybody warm. You might freeze to deith. <
in plain sight of these trees, if you had not*
means of getting the wood and making a fire- '*
with it. Just so in a family ; love is what ,
makes the parents and children, thfi
crs and sisters, happy ; but if they foke care
never to say a word about it, if they keep it
a profound secret, as if it were a crin; \ / i
they will not be much happier thaoffi-thi J
was not any love among them ; the ho: * **|
will-seem cold even in summer, ana if you $
live there you will envy the dog when any ,
one calls him "poor fellow."
Oaf An exchange tells the following char- ;
acteristic story of the poet writer ; On a I
recent occasion he was traveling with a *
friend over a New Hampshire Railroad, aod
during the conversation, Whittier's friend— '
who is also a member of the Society f
Friends —told the poet that he was on loij;
way to contract for a lot of oak timber*-*
which he knew would be used in buil 'ing
gunboats at Portsmouth, and asked him 1
whether he thought it was exactly in con- J|
sistance with the peace doctrine.) of the
Quaker denomination. Without saying any- *
thing calculated to decide the question, the I
two friends arrived at their parting accc*.*l
when Whittier shaking his friend's hand*;
said; "Moses if thee doea furnish any of ,
that oak timber thee spoke of, be sare_iliak .J
it is all sound." ®
MANY persons, especially ladies, are
rant of the proper place in which to dx|ve a j
nail in a wall wnen desiring to hang a
ture. &c. Examine the wainscoting around 1
the bottom of the wall, and when you fWFH
the head of the nail that has secured it t o I
the wall, immediately over it, from the hot- J
i torn upwards, will be the only
i to fina a firm footing for the uaii.