Bedford inquirer. (Bedford, Pa.) 1857-1884, May 22, 1868, Image 1

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Ail letters pertaining to business of the office
hon'.dhe addressed to
DL'RUOKROW & LI T'/., Uterolith PA.
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ter r€p*onj>i<>le to the publishers tor the payment.
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fr&ktaal & cards.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
I "IIS T. KKAGY,
ATTOBNKY-AT-LAW.
.... Of ; "LP itc Ilec-1 A Sclicll's Bank,
i-iscl give iiu English anil German. [ap!26]
j" 1M HELL AND LISGENFKLTE R,
ATTO > BY- AT LAW, IIEOFUBP, PA.
1 ;.vo formed a partnership in the practice of
Law, in new brick building near the Lutheran
. arch. [April I, 1864-tf
\ | . A. POINTS,
A rrORNEY AT LAW, Bedford, PA.
tc-fulljr tenders his professional services
j-j . Office with J. W. Lingenfelter,
, ■ n "üblie Square near Lutheran Church.
■ • i'..'b -tions promptly made. [Dee.9,'64-tf.
r ( AYES IRVINE,
i 1
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
il ill ilifully and promptly nttcud to all busi
i ■ ihiiHsled to bis care. Office withG. 11. Spang,
■ a .Juliana street, three doors south of the
Mr :ycl House. May 24:1y
rtSPY M. ALSip,
ill ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA.,
V.'il! faithfully and promptly attend to all busi
i - entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin
counties. Military claims, Pensions, back
Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with
on A Spang, on Juliana street, 2 doors south
.e .Merge! Home. apl 1, I Sfi-t. —tf.
J F. Jitvi.lis J. W. DICKERS-OS
NYLYERSA DICKERSON,
AL ATTORNFYS AT LAW,
BEDFORD, BESS'S.,
I ', p nearly opposite the Mangel House, will
I . (ice in the severul Courts of Bedford county.
lYnsi. 'is, bounties and back pay obtained and the
1 cof Real Estate attended to. [may 11 ,'66-1 y
13 B. STUCK EY,
it.
rOBNEY AXI) CORNS 1-ILLOR AT LAW,
and REAL E.STATE AGENT,
•> n Main Street, between Fourth and Fifth.
Opposite the Conrt House,
' KANSAS < ITY. MISSOURI,
e in the a if ining Counties of Mis-
Kansas. " * July 12:tf
. I . , , , CELL S- ■- LOXOENECKER
•>l SELL A LONG F.N E-'KEU,
ATTORSEVS A Cot NSELLORS AT LAW,
Bedford, Pa.,
Will attend promptly and faithfully to all busi
vitrusud to their care. Special attention
i n to collections and the prosecution of claims
Rack Pay, Bounty, Pensions, Ac.
,** Office on Juliana street, south of the Court
Aprilotlyr.
j. , n. SHARP-: *• '• KRXR
C? IIAIII'E A KERB.
p ■ A TTOISXE YS-A T-1 A. IE.
Will ;.-r f ein the Courts of Bedford and ad
ng counties. All business entrusted to their
will receive careful and prompt attention.
.... 1: unty, Back Pay, Ac., speedily col
b .-ted from the Government.
Office on Juliana street, opposite the hanking
1 nee of Reed A Sehell, Bedford, Pa. mar2:tf
J. p.. NRRBOKEOW JOHN I.UTZ.
Di RBORROW A li T/..
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BEBFORU, PA.,
Will ntte. 1 promptly to all business intrusted to
their care. Collections ma le on the Aortest no-
Thry are, also, regularly liccns: 1 Claim Agents
i wiH give sp i isi attention to the prosecution
• : '.rims (gainst the Government for Pensions,
Li Pay, Bounty, Bounty Lands, Ac.
tifli-. EOS Juliana street, one door South of the
■ii'rer See. and nearly opposite the 'Mangel
April 28. 18fi5:t
PH VS IC IAN 8 •
MM. W. JAMISON, X. !>.,
BLOODY Rt , P,v.,
lb si -(fully tenders bis professional services to
, people of that place and vicinity. [deB:lyr
> tit. B. F. HARRY,
r f '
Rc.-p.-tfully tenders his j-rofeasionnl scr
■ - t • the eitiicn- of Bedford and vicinity,
ice and residence on Pitt Street, in the building
erly occupied by Br. J. H. llotios. [Ap'l 1,64.
I \R. S. O. STATLEB, near S.-hellsb.trg. and
i ' l>r. J. J. < ! lUKE. formerly of Cmnbeilr-nd
unty, hiving as.-' ciated themselves in the prac
■ of Med -ine, re-pet-Ifully offer their profes
aa! -c: . i -o the citixeni of Schellsburg and
M ,I :y. Pr. Clarke's office and residence same
■ ■ rujerly occupied by J. White, Esq., dee'd.
S. G. STAT LLP.,
hellsburg, April!2:ly. J. J. C'LAKKE.
MlBCE LLAN KOUS.
/ i K- SH ANNON, RANKKB,
" BFOFORP, PA.
BANK OF Il, ; AND DEPOSIT,
dections n aAc K ,-t. Wet. North and
-oath, and the geigMt ••■•■.- tic-" of Exchange
transacted. Notes te d Accounts IVlWcied and
Rcmßtancea promptly made. REAL ESTATE
■ ought and sold. reh22
I \ \ XIEL BORDER,
! ' PITT sTr SET. TWO DOORS WEST or THE tr.n
I -in HOTEL, BEEFJRD, PA.
y.'AT nMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL
RY. SPECTACLES. iC.
. ect - on hand a stock of fine Gold and Sil
r Witches. Spectacles of Brilliant Double Refin.
tl Git-.-ea, also Sc 'tch Pebble <Jla*c.. Gold
CI: in*. IJrcast Fin*. Finder. Kings, best
*! Gold F*en?. He will supply t> order
- n hi* line not on bnnd. [• j r.2s,'fts.
Travelling Dealers in
N O T I O N S.
r o the county once every two months,
1 1- GOODS AT CITY PRICES.
Jet for the 01 itubersburg Woolen Manufac
' r ">B C tnparny. Apl 1.-ly
j ) w. caoosK
,, WHOLESALE TOBACCONIST,
'' l 1 treet two door- west of B. F. Harry's
'' L J" re, Bedford. Pa., is now prepared
by wholesale all kinds of CIGARS. All
v " r^" ' Promptly filled. Persons desiring anything
iu . - ill.. ~iij j„ (re]j ♦(, giv # him a call.
Bedford out 3d. '6i.,
DURBORROW & L.UTZ, proprietors.
g'ortvvt. :
THE SHADOW ON THE WALL.
My home a stately dwelling is,
With lofty arching doors ;
There is carving on the ceiling high,
And velvet on the floors:
A rich and costly building,
\Y here noiseless servants wait,
And ' neath the escutcheon's gilding,
N one enter but the great.
But a happier home is near it, a humble cot- !
tage small,
And I envy its sweet mistress the shadows on
the wall.
My pictures are the pride of Art,
And drawn by cunning hands;
But the painted figures never move,
Nor change, the painted lands;
Before the poorest window
■lore gorgeous pageants glide,
Within the lowliest household,
More lifelike groups abide;
And I turn from sonless symbols, that crowd
my gloomy hall,
To watch the shifting shadows upon the cot
j 'age wall.
■ My stately husband never bends
To kiss me on the lips;
His heart is in his iron safe,
His thoughts are with his ships;
But when the twilight gathers
Adown the dusky street,
The little housewife listens
For the sounds of coming feet:
And by the gleaming firelight I see a figure i
| tall
Bend down to kiss a shadow, a shadow on the
wall.
My garden palings, broad aud high,
Shut in its costly spoils,
And through the ordered paths all day i
The silent gardener toils;
My neighbor's is a grass-plat,
With a hardy buttercup,
Where children's dimpled fingers
Pull dandelious up,
Where on a baby's silken head, all day the i
sunbeams fall,
fill evening throws its shadows upon the cot- j
tage wall.
My netted lap-dog, warm and soft,
Nestles upon my knee:
My birds have shut their diamond eyes |
That love to look for me;
Lonely, I watch my neighbor.
And watching can but weep,
To see her rock her darlings
I'pou her breast asleep.
Alas! my doves are gentle, my dog comes at
my call,
But there is no childish shadow upon my !
chamber wall.
My beauty is the talk of fools,
Anil by the gaslight's glare,
In glittering dress and gleaming gems,
1 know that I am fair:
But there is something fairer,
Whose charm in leving lies,
And there is something dearer,
The light of happy eyes,
i So I return triumphant, queen of the brilliant '
ball,
To envy the sweet shadow of the housewife
on the wall.
The earthly lot is rich and high,
And hers is poor and low:
Yet I would give my heritage
Her deeper joys to know:
For husbands that are lovers
Are rare in all the lands,
And hearts grow fit for heaven.
Moulded by childish hands:
And while I go up lonely, before the Judge ;
of all,
A cherub troop will usher the shadow on the
wall. — Galaxy.
rTiiapaphicnL
JOHN QUINCE ADAMS.
BY JAMES BARTON.
IF it were possible to make a man great
! aud wise by giving the best advantages of
| education ami training, then John Quincy
Adatns would have been one of the great j
est and wisest of human beings. Few per
sons have ever enjoyed early advantages so |
uumeroti- and desirous as his. His mother,
one of the few intellectual women of her
lime, would have been distinguished for
| her talents and worth at auy time. His
father's position gave him opportunities
for study, reading, travel, and intercourse
with the best minds of both continents, such
as no other young American has ever had.
Moreover, he was in the public service, in
various capacities, from his fifteenth year,
with occasional intervals, until his eighty
fir-t, a period of sixty six years.
He was born in 1767, at Braintree, iu
Massachusetts, and at eleven years of age
accompanied his father to France, in the
American frigate Boston. The voyage was
as beneficial to the boy as it was interest
ing.
i "M y son," records the envoy, in his
I diary, "it treated very complaisantly by I>r.
Noel, and by a captain and lieutenant of ar
tillery who are a board —all French gentle
men. They arc very assiduous in teaching
: him French." And again: "I set a les
son to my son in tuc French grammar, and
.asked the favor of Dr. Noel to show him
i the precise critical pronunciation ot all the
French word.-; syllables and letters, which
the Doctor very politely did, and Mr. John
is getting bis lessons accordingly, very much
pleased.
The frigate had many adventures and nar
row escapes. It gave chase to ships of the
enemy, made some valuable prizes, and
encountered most violent storms. In the
midst of one fearful gale, a flash of light
ning prostrated thtee of the crew, and in
jured twenty more, besides splitting the
main topmast.
"I thought myself in the way of my du
' ty," wrote the robust and valiant ambassa
dor, and I did not repent of my voyage. I
confess I often regretted that I had brought
my son. I was not so clear that it was my
duty to expose hnn as myself; but I had
heen led to it by the child's inclination, and
by the advice of ail my friends. Mr. John
ny's behavior gave mo a satisfaction that I
| cannot express; fully sensible of our dan
: ger, he was constantly endeavoring to bear
it with a manly patience: very attentive to
| mo, and his thoughts constantly rnnning in
a serious strain."
On arriving in Paris, ".Mr. Johnny," was
placed by his fath- r in a French boarding
school, with several other American boj's,
j the sons and nephews of American resi
| dents in the service of Congress. Kvery
-Sunday ail these boys were invited by Doc
tor Franklin to dinner, which was attended
also by all the principal Americans then in
J Paris. The boy, as hoys u.-ually do, learn
ed the language of this foreign country
much more rapidly than his father, so that
when they returned homo after a year's res
idence, the lad became hini-elfa teacher of
English to the French gentleman on hoard
the ship. There is one other passage of!
Mr. Adams's diary which exhibits to us a
pleasant scene in the cabin of the return
ing ship.
"The Chevalier de la Luzerne ami M.
i Marhois are in raptures with my son. They
get him to teach them the (English) lan
guage, I found this morning the ambas ß a
dor seated on the cushion in our stato-rooui.
3 Jloral ant) (Grnrval flrtospaprv, DrbotrtJ to politics, ißtJucation, literature anti i&otals.
M. Marbois in his cot on his left hand, and
uiy son stretched out in his at his right.
The ambassador reading out loud in Black- i
stone, and my son correcting the pronuncia
tion of every word and syllable and letter. I
The atnbassadoi said he was astonished at
my son's kuowledgothat he was a master
of his own language, like a professor. M
Marbois said; 'your son teaches us more
than you; he shows us no uieroy; he pays
lus no compliments. We must have Mr. j
John.' "
After a residence of a few months at
home, John Quincy Adams again went with
| his father to Europe, where he attended ;
schools in France and Holland, and finally \
j went to the University at Leyden. At the j
age of fifteen years he received the appoint
ment of Secretary of Legation to the Amer- j
ican Minister at St. Petersburg, and from
that time to the end of his life ne was eel- I
doui out of office more than a few months
at a time, lleturning to America, he com
| pleted his education at Harvard College,
and, immdeiateiy alter graduating, he began
the study of the law in the office of a dis
tinguished practitioner. With all thcadvan
tages of his father's celebrity, and his own
recognized ability, it was only after practic
ing at the bar for four years that he earned ;
. money enough for his maintenance.
Meanwhile, he attracted atteution by his i
contributions to tho public press, in which
he defended, with much vigor, the foreign
policy of' President Washington. General ,
Washington was particularly susceptible
both to the applause and bathe censure of
the press; and these articles gave him so \
much pleasure, that, in the year 17144,
when Mr. Adams was but twenty-seven
years of age, be appointed him Minister to .
Holland. This was the beginning of a long
and successful diplomatic carcqj-. On the j
accession of his father to the Presidency, he |
: was appointed Minister to Berlin, where he I
continued to reside until the election of Mr.
Jefferson recalled him to his country.
Some men, without being dishonest, have j
a particular knack at changing their party ;
opinions at precisely the moment when
i such a change will most promote their own
advantage. No one has ever possessed this
■ faculty in a more eminent degree than John ;
Quincy Adams. Toward the close of Mr.
Jefferson's administration, he could not but
be aware that there were only two courses
| open to a federalist; namely, to get into the
republican party, or abandon all hope of j
j further political employment. He sustained ;
1 Mr. Jefferson on the embargo question
j against the majority of the people of New
England. Inheriting an amjilc share of his
i father's habit of distrust, he went so far as
| to say President Jefferson, that, in his
opinion, the federalists of New England,
were traitors to their country, and were pre- I
! pared to assist Great Brittain in the design
j attributed to her of reconquering America, j
Tu persons unacquainted with the peculiar;
j disposition of tbia family, such conduct
j eould only appear in tho light of carrying j
favor with power. In all probability, how
ever, Mr. Adams as firmly believed this j
charge as the democrats of a later day be
lieved in the charge of bargain and corrup
tion agaiust himself.
Mr. Madison rewarded his services to
i the republican party by nominating him as j
Minister to' Russia: whence he came in ISI4 i
to assist in negotiating peace between the
United States and Great Britain. On his j
return, after an absence of eight years, he j
at once took possession of the office of Sec
retary of State, to which Mr. Monroe had;
appointed him, and which he held during
the whole period, eight years, of President
Monroe's service. It fell to his lot, as Sec
rectary of State, to defend all the irregular
proceeding- of General Jackson in Florida,
which he ail as forcibly as though he really
approved them —which, I happen to know,
I lie did not. He also negotiated the treaty
with Spain by which Florida was ceded to |
I the 1 tilted States.
In the Presidential campaign of 1824, the
leading candidates were six in number;
Crawford of Georgia, John Quincy Adams,
Andrew Jackson, John C. Calhoun, Henry
i Clay, and l)e Witt Clinton. The people
failing to elect either of' these gentlemen,
the choice devolved upon the House of Rep
resentatives. Through the influence of Mr.
Clay, who had been for many years the ad
mired and popular speaker of the House,
General Jackson, who had received by far
the greatest popular vote, was set aside and
Mr. Adams was elected. It soon appeared,
from the messages of the new President,
that though he had joined the republican
[■arty, he was as truly a federalist in 1825
as he had been in 1800, when he was in full
opposition to the republican party. I have \
read all the messages of all the Presidents
of the United States, and in none of them
is there such extravagant toryism as in the
uic-sages of John Quincy Adams. He veri
I ly seems to have thought that the govern
ment ought to do everything for the peo
ple, and the people everything for the gov
ernment.
Swept from power in 1829, be went home
to Massachusetts, to find the Northern
people intensely oxeit 1 by what is known
' as Anti-Masonry, which was caused by the
mysterious disappearance of a young prin
; ter, who had betrayed the secrets, such as
they are, of the Free-Masons. Mr. Adatns,
then sixty three years of age, threw himself
into this movement, and <-ame very near
being elected Governor of Massachusetts by
ti c Anti Mason party. The same party
elected hitu a member of the House of
Representatives, in which he continued to
serve for the remaining seventeen years of
I hi- life. Now it was tliat the heroic part of
hi- life heean. When the attempt Was
made to deprive the people of the right of i
petition, and to silence members of Con- i
cress on the great topic of the day, he led
the Opposition to these iniquitous measures, I
i and startled the country by the vigor of I
his eloquence in the midst of a storm of
j obloquy.
On the 21st of February, 1848, while sit
ting in his usual seat in the House of Rep
rescntativee, he was suddenly deprived of
the power of speecli and motion by a kind
of paralysis, of which he had had some expe- j
riencc previously. He was conveyed insehsi- j
ble to the Speaker's room, where be linger j
ed for nearly two days, never regaining the
possession of his senses, though occasional
ly uttering incomplete or incoherent words.
The la-t words uttered by him, of which he
knew the meaning, were:
"This is the la.-t of earth; I am content."
It was the habit of this able and eminent
man, during the whole of his long life, to
record the eveDts of every day in a diary.
This is still preserved; and I aui informed, j
that the time is not very distant when the
tno-t material and interesting parts of it
will he given to the public. The only child
of Mr. Adatns who survived him, was
Chat les Francis Adams, now sixty years of
age, aud till recently Minister of the United
States at the British Court, an office first
filled by his grandfather just after the revo
lutionary war. Two members of this fami
ly have occupied the Presidential chair, and
many things less unlikely have occurred
than that a third of the name should fill
j the office.
WAYS OF COMMITTING SUICIDE.— Wear- J
ing thin shoes on damp nights in rainy
weather.
Building on the"air-tight" principle,
i Leading a life of enfeebling stupid laziness,
and keeping the mind in a round of un
natural excitement by reading trashy novels.
Going to halls in all sorts of weather in
the thinnest possible dress. Dancing till
in a complete perspiration, and then go home
through the damp air.
Sleeping on feather beds in seven by nine j
: beil-rooins.
Surfeiting on hot and very highly stimulat
ing suppers.
Eating without time to masticate tho
foot].
Allowing love of gain to so absorb our
minds as to leave no time to attend to our
health.
Gormandizing between meals.
Giving way to fits of anger.
Neglecting to take proper care of ourselves
when a simple disease first appears.
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY, MAY 22, 1868.
sU:<cdUiu.
THIS WORTH OK MEN AMI OF
THINOS.
A policy of productive industry dun is
ruled by prices—that would limit a whole
people to the products which they can make
cheaper than another or any other with
I whom they can exchange, may seem theo
: retically true; but it unfortunately attaches
■ itself so closely to the consideration ol things,
| that it wholly overlooks the men for whom
j these things are made. The question of
i human welfare is not quite covered by the
• price of the things that men eat and wear.
| Men are not made for products, but pro
j ducts for men. Or, if price must run all
1 through the argument, we ask leave to sug
' gest that men shall be treated as having
; value, and that in proportion to quality—
| just like other thing*. They have bones
and muscles that are hired or rented; whose
| use is bought and sold in every field and
j workshop. The men differing from things
, in respect that it is a legitimate object to
! produce the cheapest things, for that makes
| the mastery of men over things, while 011
; the other hand it is the main object in the
I production and growth of men to make con
; stunt increase of their value. Ixtw-priccd
tilings, but high-priced men.
Mow, if any difference in the value of
men can be made by different modes of
: training and treating them, the choice
! should fie to make them dearest, in all sen
ses of the word. A cheap slave used to
bring about a thousand dollars in our mar
ket; some, however, went above two thou
sand. Why this difference? The one had
more and better productive power than the
; other. The one was a stupid field baud,
needing a driver; the other was a mechanic
; skill and strength against unskilled
strength. We have even known other qual
ities to have value in the market —for in
stance, a slave blacksmith in Greenbrier
j County. Virginia, who was a first-rate work
| man, was advertised as scrupulously honest
and unaffectedly pious, ami his master in
voiced these virtues us worth a surplus
i price. He got three thousand dollars for
; him. Yes, one man may be worth more
money to anybody, to the world, and to
himself than another; and that man will be
; found a producer of greater values than the
other. He will l>e a eheapeuer of
1 priced things, but never of things of the
lowest value. Inventors in the arts, discov
erers in the sciences, educators, and iinprov
| ers of men generally, are of this high-priced
class of laborers. They could drive oxen
' and dig potatoes as well as others, but they
can do better.
; The total of the occupations of a people
are all capable of higher things, and better
for themselves and for all men, than confin
ing themselves to the cheapest commodities
■ which they can produce, and surrendering
j all other forms of labor to another jieople,
; simply because that other people s work is
relatively cheap in money price. In some
\ departments of labor, more mind is worked
into muscle than in others. Some work
i shops are the best schools in the world, and
turn out the best scholars; that is. the liigh
-1 est-nriecd men.
Then, again, there are many people of a
high possible value, who cannot work at j
cheap things at all. There arc a great ma
ny of these. Women, for instance, are very
unfit for hod-carrving or ox driving; and all
such persons, embracing half-grown persons
of both sexes, all women, and a good half of
: the men of every country, physically disqual
-1 ificd for drudging—the ]>ecial work of new
j countries—are thrown into the supported
classes by this policy of cheap commodities
or. are dreadfully cheapened themselves, by
j being limited and compelled into submission
i to tin cheap trade policy.
Brains and hearts, hopes and aspirations. ,
' ought to lie taken into account in projecting j
a system of industry for a nation. Provi
sion for the highest development should lie
made, and this requires that every worker
should be invited by higher reward to move
constantly toward higher and better forms
of labor. For these higher forms of work
are worth infinitely more than any difference
of market price of commodities can measure,
to the individual and to the country. Ev
ery higher stage is better than the next be
low it. for giving value to uieu. which isthe
thing to be accomplished.— Natianal Aider
| ican.
THE VALUE OF SKILLED LABOR.
It is unpleasant to read in our daily jour
nals of the destitution among our laboring
| classes because of the lack ol work. Yet it
j is the factthat thousands are actually snffer
-1 ing for want of employment, and still itisno
; less the fact that skilled labor is in as great
demand now as ever. The thorough master
: of his business, unless that business is cn
| tirely prostrated, will never find himself, for
i any long time, unemployed, if he desires
employment, ll'a workman at any business
—mechanical or intellectual—is not a coui
; petcnt worker the place he desires will be
sure to be filled by his superior, the master
of his business. Men, like the particles of
fluids, must dnd their level, and neither can
rise above it without outside aid. The man
in any business whose sole use and value is
i to fill a hole accidentally left open, does not
amount to much. He only is valuable
whose services are eagerly sought, and, be
ing secured, are retained. When the em
pioyer seeks the worker it may be consider
ed that the latter is worth the seeking; but
: there are thousands who might be sought,
but who never would take the trouble to
make themselves worth the seeking. These
"slumps" of mechanics, making pretense
to a name to which they have no right, are
stumbling blocks in the way of really worthy
! men. We speak not of the apprentice and
learner who have never had a sufficient op
: portunity to acquire a full knowledge of
' their business, but of those who, being
! either unfitted by taste or talent for their
chosen business, look upon it solely as a
means of earning their bread and butter
and never imagined such a thing as enthusi
asm or interest in their work. iSueli men,
even in the best of times, are suffered and
borne with, rather than valued in the shop.
They may do the work set before them, but
never care enough about its character when
finished or their own reputation as workmen
to take care and pains, use thought and
brains, as well as muscle, in its prosecution.
Being only automatons —breathing machines
i —their places are filled by work men as soon
as business becomes slack.
Yet it is not difficult for the worker to ar
rive at the head of his profession, whatever
it may lie, if first be has any aptitude and
taste for it. All that is needed is applica
tion and an iuterest in his work. It may
take years to accomplish the result, but the
time will have been profitably spent. Once
a workman, in the highest sense of the
term, his future is secure. His efforts will
be appreciated and his proper position as
sured 011 a very brief trial, even by a
j stranger.
These remarks apply equally well to those
who live by their brain rather than their
muscle; many a 60 called editor is such
simply by the circumstance that no proper
man has found and occupied the position
assumed by him who cannot properly fill
it. And possibly there is no more bare
faced assumption of responsibilities and
duties for which the pretender is totally
unfitted than that of some would be literary
people; yet the mechanical branches of in
industry are thronged with such apologies
for workmen; men who have no love for
their work, no respect for themselves, and
no regard for the interests of their cm
ployers. Such men should turn their at
j tendon to work requiring scarcely more
i bruins than that of the ox.
The skilled workman is to be envied.
He knows his own value, and feels thereby
a pride in his business and a respect for
himself. He is, in a measure, independent
lor his services are needed and will always
receive their full market value. It is bet
ter to be a thorough workman in the lowest
! branch of mechanical business than a mere
hanger on in a popular or genteel oceupa
tion. Will our young men and mechanics
eonsider this matter Scientific American.
THE PUNISHMENT OF CHILDREN.
Not long ago an editor in the northern!
part of the State of New Yotk told his son,
about eleven years old, that he would whip
him in the course of a few hours, and locked
him in an upper room until he had leisure
to do so. \\ lien the boy heard the father j
coming, he became so alartued that hejump- :
ed out of the window aud broke his neck.
About a year ago a mother puni.-hed Iter
little daughter, about eight years, by shot
ting her up in a dark closet; the child be
came so frightened that convulsions were
induced, which resulted in death. In an !
other ease of similar character, the result j
was atill more calamitous, for the child be 1
came epileptic and so remained for a long
life afterward. I'he object of parental cor
rection should be the ultimate g o od of the
child; and to make it effective.
1. The character of the punishment should
be according to the disposition and temper
ament of the child.
2. The punishment be in proportion to
the nature of the offence.
3. The punishment should be inflicted ;
with the utmost self-possession; for if done
in a towering pa-ion it takes the character
of revenge; the child sees it and resists it
with defiance, stubbornness, or with a feel
ing of being the injured or oppressed party.
4. Punishment should never be threaten
ed, for one of two results, both unfortunate
are certain; either the promise will not lie
kept, and the child lose confidence in paren
tal assertions; or the child's mind, dwelling
upon what is cxpected, suffers a lengthened
torture, imagination always aggravating the
severity of the chastisement, and the child
gradually learns to startle at every event
which is likely to usher in the correction,
and the foundation is laid for that fearfulness
of the luture which is the bane of all human
happiness; and in some cases the severity of
the expected suffering looms up so largely
under the iufluence of a distompered imagt
nation, as iu the case of the editor's child,
that suicide is'considered the lesser evil. It
is nothing less than a savage barbarity for
any parent to hold the mind of a child in a
state of terrorism for a single hour, let alone
for days and weeks.
5. Never correct a child by scolding, ad
monition, or castigation, in the presence of
any other person whatever. It is an attack
on its self esteem, which provokes resistance
and passion. Let grown persons recollect
how ill they bear even deserved reproof in
the presence of others.
0. Never punish a child twice lor one of
fence; it is a great injustice, a relic of bar
barism, and always discourages or hardens.
Make each settlement final in itself, and
don't he forever harping on what is past.
7. Punishment should not be effected in
any case without placing clearly before the
child's mind the nature of the aggravation,
and that the sole design of the chastisement
or reproof is his present and future welfare.
8. In all cases where punish mentis decided
upon, it should be prompt, or deferred, ac
cording to the degree of aggravation or pal
pable wrong. It is almost always better to
defer it, but in such cases threaten nothing,
say nothing; do nothing which indicates in
the slightest degree that auything is to come.
And when the time does come, ao not alarm
the child with anv show of preparation, but
gradually and affectionately bring up the
whole matter; place it in its true, just, and
clear light, and act accordingly; and always,
as much as possible, appeal to the child's
conscience, to its sense of right, to its mag
nanimity, to its benevolence towards man,
and gratitude towards God. Hull's Jour
nal.
STARVED TO DEATH.
In the autumn of 1846, a party of emi
grants, left Independence, Missouri, to
make the trip to California, overland.
Many of them passed on and arrived at
j their destination before the winter com
nienced; hut a party, under the lead of Cap
-1 tain Bonner, numbering eighty persons, in
cluding women and children, travelled at
thvii cisure, and turned off from the accus
tomed track. to see, to explore, and to make
the mast of the trip, thereby not reaching
the pais of the Sierra Nevada until the last
of October. They found the pass so block
aded by snow as to be impassable; and here,
■ near the beautiful Truekee Lake, alias,
| Donnei Lake, they encamped for the night,
j Next uorning they awoke to find that sev
eral feet of snow had fallen while they
rested, anil that still it snowed. They
erected cabins, and made preparations to
spend the winter here. Their cattle had
strayed away, and by reason of the deep
snow, they could get DO trace of them.
The snow fell rapidly, and their case was
■ - well nigh a hopeless one. With little to
sustain life, no habitation within hundred
of miles, and with mountains ofsnowaround
them, nothing more desolate can well be
conceived. Still, there were heroic Chris
tians among the number, who repined not,
hut earnesty and persistently prajed for de
; iiverance from what daily threatened to be
; couie to them a living tomb. I have seen
stumps on the site of their encampment,
! from which tbey cut trees for fuel; and
| these stumps were from fifteen to twenty
feet high . so very deep was the snow.
Parties were sent to push through, if pos
! sible, and gain relief- Many of these par
tics were lost entirely, and others were
greatly reduced by starvation and exposure.
At last a party of fifteen—eight men, four
! hrave-bearted women, and two Indians —set
out, and after untold sufferine, eight of
i thetn reached a settlement on Bear Creek.
The other seven, among whom were the
two red men, had perished, and their bodies
I been consumed for food by their comrades.
For several of the last days, the undaunted
i eight had subsisted upon hits of leather
taken front their boots. Of this number
' was a Mr. White, who hastened back to
the relief of his wife and child, accompanied
by men and supplies from the settlement,
j But, in his absence, both had died. We
saw their place of rest, and from the grave
of the mother picked some fragrant sweet
briars that had been planted there by the
hand of affection.
Mr. Donner was unable to be moved; he
i urged his wife to leave him, but she de
clined. One Reseberg insisted on remain
ing; and when the second rescue party ar
rived, he was the only one living. 51 r.
Donner had died, and it was generally be
lieved that llesebcrg had killed slrs. Don
tier. He had some of her flesh boiling in a
| kettle, and looked like a wild man.
The Donner party consisted of about
eighty, only forty of whom remained to tell
the heart-rending tale of this terrible win
ter. Two of Mr. Di nner's children—a son
i and a daughter—are now living. slary
Donner, the daughter, was a schoolmate of
1 one of my intimate friends, and from her I
learned much of this story.—A etc York
\ Ledger. M- >'•
CHARACTER AND REPUTATION.—A Wes
tern pastor having written a reply to some
malignant newspaper attacks, sent it to a
friend to be submitted to Dr. Wayland for
his advice. The doctor read the article, con
sidered it for a few moments, and said, in
su&stance, "fell brother—to take no notice
of the attacks. A man's character will take
care of his reputation , anti he need not fear
the malicious attacks of his enemies. It is
never well for a man puhliely to vindicate
himself fronYeharge which the whole tenor
of his life contradicts. Those who know the
man do not need tho vindication, and those
who don't know him will not care enough
about it to read what he may write." Our
ministering friend said he had lived lone
! enough to be more thankful than he could
express for the advice then given.
EACH true Christian is a night trav
■ ; eler his life his walk. Christ his way
| and heaven his home ; bis walk m pain
, ful, his way is perfect, his home *pleas
■ ing. I will not loiter, lest I come short;
: I will not wander, lest I coine wide of home;
• but ho content to travel hard and be sure I
! walk right; so shall my safe way find its end
; at home, and my painful walk make ty
home welcome.
ANECDOTES OF GENERAL GRANT.
"A W oman ' writes to the Philadelphia
I'rest, from Ashland, Pa., the following
stories about General Grant:
In the winlei of 1862-3, when the army
arrived at Memphis, aftcrlong, weary march
ing and trials that sicken the heart to think
of, two-thirds of the officers and soldiers
were in hospitals. General Grant was lying
sick at the Gayoso House. One morning
Mrs. Grant came in the ladies' parlor, very
much depressed, and said the medical direc
tor had just been to see Mr. Grant, and
j though the would not be able to go any •
j further if he did not stimulate. Said she:
1 "And I cannot persuade him to do so; he
says he will not die, and he will not touch a ;
drop upon auy consideration." In less than !
a week he was on board the advance boat on
the way to Vicksturg.
"Again, a few months after, I was on !
board the headquarters boat at sliiliken's !
Bend, where quite a lively gathering of
officers aud ladies had assembled. Cards and
music were the order of the evening. Gen- j
eral Grant sat in the ladies' cabin, leaning
upon a table covered with innumerable
mapsand routes to Vicksburg, wholly absord- i
ed in cotntemplation of the great matter be
fore him. • He paid no attention whatever to
what was going on around, neither did any
one dare to interrupt him. For hours he I
sat thus, until the loved and lamented .Mc-
Pherson stepped up to him with a glass of
liquor in his hand, and said; "General, this '
won't do; you are injuring yourself; join |
with us in a few toasts, and throw this bur- ;
deti off your mind." Looking up and suiil
ling, be replied: "Mac, you know your ;
whiskey won't help me to think; give me a j
dozen of the best cigars you can find, and,
if the ladies will excuse me for smoking, I i
think by the time I have finished them I
shall have this job pretty nearly planned."!
Thus he sat; and when the company retired, I
we left hini there, still smooking and think- 1
ing, not having touched one drop of liquor, j
" When the arnty lay around Vicksburg i
during that long siege, the time that tried ;
men's souls, T watched every movement it
was possible for me to do, feeling almost
| certain that he would eventually succumb j
to the custom, alas! too universal among the
officers. I was in company with a gentle
man from Chicago, who, while calling upon
the General, remarked, "I have some very j
fine brandy on the boat, and if you will
send an orderly with me to the river I will
send you a ease or two." "I am greatly ;
oblige.d," replied the General, "but I do
not use the article. I have a big job on
baud, and though I know I shall win, 1
know I must do it with a cool head. Send
all the liquor you intend for me to my hos
pital in the rear; I don't think a little will
hurt the poor fellows down there."
"At a celebration on the 22d February |
before the surrender of Vicksburg, while
all around were drinking toasts in sparkling j
cbampaigne, I saw General Grant pushaside j
a glass ol wine, and, taking up a glass ofj
51issi>sippi water, with the remark, "This j
suits the matter in hand; drink to the toast, |
'God gave ns Lincoln and liberty; let us 1
fight for both.'"
ANECDOTES OF REN. WADE.
The following we derive from a prominent I
citixen of Jefferson, a fellow church ir.em- i
ber with Joshua It. Giddings, and they are j
authentic:
About the time Mr. Wade opened a law !
office in Jefferson, a traveling preacher j
stopped at that village and delivered a lec
ture on the sinfulness of slavery. slr.
Giddings and the pastor of the church, of
which he was a member, deemed this
highly wicked and incendiary. And to
counteract any evil which the abolition lec
ture might have done, these two men !
drew up a plan for a society which was to j
hold stated "meetings for the purpose of j
proving the divinity of slavery from the j
Bible. In canvassing for members to j
search the Scriptures for this purpose, j
they called at Wade's office, who, after |
hearing them patiently, remarked:_ "If I
was an infidel, and thought it desirable to
make the people believe the Bible a fable,
I would begin not by openly discrediting
it, but I would organize just such societies
as you propose, and set out to prove that
(he God of the Bible was a being that
sanctioned slavery and all its iniquities."
The pastor spent a few moments in deep j
thought, and exclaimed: "You are right, j
Mr. Wade; [ now see this thing inadif- j
fercnt light: I will have nothing further to
do with it." Not long after this the scales
fell from 51r. Gidding s eyes, and he, too
became an apostle of liberty.
While Wade and Giddings were law part
ners, they sold a horse to a preacher and
took bis note. Mr. G. made the trade, and
drove a hard bargain, although he belonged
to the same church with the preacher. They
shortly after dissolved pattnership and divi
ded the notes, Mr. G. assorting them out,
and somehow the poor and doubtful were
counted into slr. W.'s half. slr. W. made !
no objection to this, doubtless thinking this ]
would afford a good opportunity to exercise j
some of that large hearted practical benevo- |
lence for which he is noted. The preacher's ;
note fell to >lr. Wade, and when it came i
due he was informed by slr. G. that Mr. ;
W. had bought the note. On calling to ■
pay it, Mr. Wade asked him how much :
money he had, and was informed "just i
enough to pay this note and get back home I
on." Mr. Wade replied, "well, in the first
■ place, had I heen selling the horse, my con- j
science would not have allowed me to exact [
of you more than he was worth, and in the i
second place, you preachers have a hard |
time of it, and I am the last man that would :
have a desire for your money. Here is your |
note, I make you a present of it." The ■
minister was affected to tears, and remarked ]
to a brother member shortly after, while re i
iating the occurrence, "that man's rough
exterior covers a noble heart." — Chiliicothe ]
Gazette.
YOUNG UNMARRIED LADIES OF
ITALY.
The idea of a girl in Italy Is indissolublv
conceeted with that of being devoid of all
: moral sense, infallibly preferring wrong to j
right, and who can only be kept from harm :
| ami evil by the most incessant watchfulness. ■
A mother's whole maternal dutics_ toward
her daughter seem considered in Itaty- ]
to be comprehended in the one act of vigi- j
! lance. .
"My daughter has never been, since she
was nine years old, for more than twenty
minutes out of my sight," said an Italian
countess, boastfully; and by this declaration
she appeared to think that she merited to \
take rank in the world's esteem with the;
• : mother of the Gracchi. !
A girl belonging to the upper ranks of life ,
j iu Italy is practically a prisoner until she
marries. The girl belonging to the humbler
! classes of society shares also, in a great de- j
i gree, in the same restrictions on her libertv.
' The grown-up daughter of a woman keeping
a lodging-house in Florence could not profit
by my offer to take her to see the ceremony 1
1 of the ' Lavanda" at the FittiPalace, solely
: 1 because she was unable to procure a proper
1 escort to accompany her in a ten minutes' ;
walk through the best part of the town, to
1 the place where I resided. A work girl
! going to her employer's house has to pro
vide heiself with some companion; and in
1 emergencies I have souietims seen a little
; child do duty as duenna for the occasion.
[ • In the country the same rule prevails; no
! peasant girl is ever alone; and equally in
j the higher as in the lower classes of society
' would any infringement of the social code,
in this respect, be fatal to matrimonial ex
pectations. Under these circumstances, the
- j proceedings of unmarried English ladie*
,- excite the wonder and envy of their sex in
- Italv. Often have I been amused at the
■- 1 way in which the most common-place ex
; ploits have been magnified into heroic ac
■; tions; and not unfrequently did I find myself
I elevated to the dignity of a heroine, when
d ; utterly unconscious that I had in any way
y i merited the nanyj assigned mo. from a
Lady's Journal.
VOL. 41: SO. 19.
j
A VERY OLD LAUV.
[ recollect returning from school one eve- [
ning when a child, and finding myself, as I ;
entered the "door yard," at home, in the
: mid.-t of a group of visitors, who were tak
ing leave of the family. A very old lady, in
a neat block "scoop-shovel" bonnet, was
j leaning on the arm of her daughter, who
was also an aged woman. Several others
were standing about—my own dear old
grandmother among the rest—and all of
them seemed to be old enough to be daugh
ters of .Methuselah.
I stood peering at them curiously, sun-
Ironnet in band, when .the very old Jady
came slowly toward me.
"flow old are you, little girl?" she asked. !
"Sixyears old."
"Are you? I was six years oid a hund
red years ago."
flow I started and looked up wonderiugly
under the deep black bonnet. She smiled
as she added, "My dear child, I am a hund
red years older than you are;" and as she
kissed my forehead, and laid her thin hand
: tenderly on my bare bead, I felt even then
; that it was a benediction.
r How honored wo all felt by her presence! j
No one else was spoken of for a week ; arid |
we children all felt that it would be very !
lleasant to li7c a hundred years longer, and
to lie still good-natured, and have everybody
very proud of us. Let me live to an old age,
but let me not outlive the free use of all my
| faculties, should be the prayer and aspira
tion of every child. Let us poinr him to
| that goal and bid him seek to win the race.
Heaven often forces us to answer our own
prayers ; and wc must undoubtedly do so in
this case, or they will remain unanswered.
We ought to live for old age just in the
' spirit we are constantly exhorted to live
for heaven, that is, to think of it, take i
; measures to attain it, and provision for I
I it.
I do not mean merely the laying up of!
"much goods" for the "many years." An j
| honest old age has a right to be independent, i
and to be no more cumbered with "much !
serving." It often Deeds change. Let the ,
u!d man be free to leave his home occasion- I
ally, and with his old wife, hand in hand, I
let him go travelling to see the world and
enjoy it. They may thus add years to their |
length of days, much to their stock of |
happiness, and more still to their vigor and j
restoration of their decaying faculties, I
After three score years and ten of robust i
work, either with brains or hands, society )
owes the veteran a competence, and every
, rational enjoyment it will procure; and it is !
; all wrong if he has not been able to obtain j
; tbis.— Atlantic Monthly.
'SHE LOOKS MOST LIKE MOTHER.'
A Paris letter tells the following story of
a Twelfth night fete in that city:
A wealthy family in the aristocratic
I Boulevard Malesherbes were amusing tbem
j selves in seeking the King's portion, or the
ring in the festival cake, when a lady of the
| company says to the hostess:
i 'I wish my portion to be given to the ■
poorest little boy we can find in the street." !
The servant was dispatched on this freez- •
' ing night, and not far from the bouse he
i found a ragged urchin, trembling, with
: cold and huoger. He brought him up, was ;
j ordered into the saloon, where a thousand
lights glittered, and a sparkling fire glad
j dened and surprised him. lie drew his por
tion which the benevolent lady bad promis ,
ed, and as luck would have it, the little fel- j
low found the "ring" (beans they use in ;
| Paris instead), and, of coarse, he was I
i "King." They all shouted out that, being i
a King, he must choose a Queen. He was
! asked so to do, and, looking round the com- i
i pany, he chose the very lady who had pro- |
posed to cede her portion of cake. He was j
asked why he chose her. He said:
"I don't know: she looks the most like
; mother?"
"Mother! whose mother?"
"My mother! I never knew her, but was
I stolen away from her, and here is her por- j
j trait!"
With this he drew from out his ragged [
coat a likeness, which proved to be that of
the very lady herself, who, in Italy had her
child stolen from her, and now he turns up
a poor little ragged Savoyard, dragging
along a miserable existence in Paris, while 1
his mother, by an iDtuttion, perhaps, felt ;
that in the air near to where she was, was
one so dear to her.
STRONG MEN.
Strength of character consists of two
things—power of will and power of self
restraint. It requires two things, therefore,
for its existence —strong feelings and strong
command over them. Now we all very often
mistake strong feelings for strong character.
A man who bears all before him, before
whose frown domestics tremble, and whose
i bursts of fury make the children of the
household quake, because he bos his own
1 way in all things, we call him a strong man.
The truth is, that he is the weak man; it is
his passions that arc strong; he, mastered
by them, is weak. You must measure the
: strength of a man by the power of the
- feelings he subdues, not by the power of
those that sundue him. And hence com
posure is very often the highest result of
strength. Hid we ever see a man receive a
flagrant injury, and then reply quietly ? That :
;is a man spiritually strong. Or did we ever
see a man in anguish stand as if carved out
j of a solid rock, mastering himself? or one
bearing a hopeless daily trial remain silent,
and never tell the world what conquored
his home peace ? That is strength. He
who, with strcng passions, remains chaste;
he who, keenly sensitive, with manly powers
of indignation in him, can be provoked and
yet restrain himself and forgive, those are
the strong men, the spiritual heroes.
MISUNDERSTOOD THE TEXT.—A worthy
deacon hired a journeyman farmer from a
neighboring town for the summer, and in
duced him—although he was unaccustomed
to church going—to accompany the family
i to church on the first Sabbath of his stay.
• Upon their return to the deacon s house, he
asked his hired man how he liked the
preaching. He replied:
"I don't like to hear any minister preach
! politics"
"I am very sure you heard no politics to
j day, "said the deacon.
"I am sure that I did," said_ the man.
"Mentionthe passages," said the deacon.
"I will. He said, "If the Republicans
scarcely are saved, where will the Democrats
arpear?" "Ah, ' said the deacon, you
mistake. These were the words—'lf the
righteous scarcely are saved, how will the
ungodly and wicked appear?'"
"O, yes," said the man, "he might have
used those words, but I knew deuced well
: ichat fie meant\"
"THEN I'LL SEND HIM A KJSS." —Lit-
tle Mary was sitting with her mother on a
Cleasant evening, while the stars came
rightly out, and, looking up, she said :
"Mamma, who made all those beautiful
stars in the sky?"
The mother replied: "Our Heavenly
Father, my child."
"Then, mammy, I'll send Htm a kisa,
Mary answered; and suiting the action to
the words, she kissed her hand, and threw
> it upward toward the sky.
Was not the offering accepted by the lov
ing Father, who has said to all who do not
trust and obey Hint, "Kiss the bon, lest
He bo angry, and yc perish by the way,
when His wrath is kindled but a little? '
A CONDUCTOR on a railroad running from
Hartford, agreed in the kindness of his heart
> to pass a poor penniless fellow on his train.
„ An officer of the road sitting in the same cai
a with the man, observed that the conductor
e took no fare of him, and called him to ac
- count for it. "Why do you pass that man?
- said Mr. Treasurer. "Oh, he's a couduc
If tor on the railroad." "He a conductor!
n why what makes him dress so shabbily T'J
y ' "Oh, he's trying to live on his salary 1
a 1 was the quick reply. Mr. Treasurer saw
the puiut aud dropped the subject at once.
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Tare squares 0.00 9.00 16.00
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Half column 18.00 25.00 45.00
One column 30.00 45.00 80,00
A LIST OF I'ESi NAMES WITH REAL
NAMES ATTACIIEU.
Gail Hamilton —Miss AbigailE. Dcslgc.
Florence Percy—Mrs. Elizabeth Aikors.
Timothy Titcooib —Dr. J . G. Holland.
Orpheus C. Kerr— Robert H. Newell.
Mrs. Partington—P. B. Sbillaber.
Doesrieks P. It. —Mortimer Thompson.
K. N. Pepper—.James M. Morris.
Mtester Karl and Mace Sloper, Esq. v.
G. Iceland.
Josh Billings—Henry M • Shaw.
Jeems Pipes—Stephen Masset.
Nod Buntline—E. Z. C. Judson.
Edmund Kirk —J. K. Giimore.
Country Parson —A. K. 11. Boyd.
Mary Clavers —Mrs. C. M. Kirkland.
Currer Boll— Chailotte Bronte.
Village Sbhoolmaster —Charles M. Dick
inson.
Owen Meredith—Bulwer,jr.
Barry Cornwall —William i'roetor
Author of John Halifax", Gentleman
M iss Muloch.
Ike Marvel —Donald G. Mitchell.
Jennie June—Mrs. Jenny Croly.
Fanny Fern —Wife of James G. Parton,
(the historian,) and sister of N. P. W illis.
Petroleum V. Nas by—D. 11. Locke.
Howard Glynden—Miss Laura C. Red
den.
Some of these names are not. however,
assumed as aliases, but are simply those
of characters in the writings of the ladies
and gentlemen in question. That of Arte
mu.- Ward reminds us that there have been
two Congressmen of that name. The first
was in 1 TT-> appointed Maj. General of the
American army, and was much esteemed
by General Washington. The other who
died in 1847. was for nineteen years Chief
Justice of the Court of Common Pleas in
Boston.
THE Boston Traveller says: "To an in
quiry how one of the Bank Presidents in
this Commonwealth had made his fortune,
the reply was: 'Mainly by economy.
When rendering an income return, this gen
tleman's attention was called to an apparent
omission. 'Have you more than one gold
watch?' asked the official. 'Not one —a
useless expense.' 'Any carriages, sir?' *1
don't indulge in one.' 'A piano I think yon
have?' 'Sir, I wish you to understand I
own nothing that does not draw interest.
(OIUTS m\
WHICH of Mr. Dickens' works is hardest to
get through? No thoroughfare.
WHY is a coquette like a minister? Because
she never gives assent.
WHY is the Pope like a faithful goose ? Be
cause he sticks to his own Propaganda.
MRS. E. T. Carter has been elected county
superintendent of public schools for Maury
county, Tenn.
Hox. THOMAS B FI-OREXCE, an extreme
Democrat, is out is fuvor of conferring suf
frage on all races and sexes.
All the towns throughout the State com
plain of the high price of butter, which ranges
from 50 to 75 cents per pound.
SHAD have been caught in the Susquehanna
this spring above the dam of Columbia, caus
ed by a break in the dam.
THE Pittsburg Fust, declares General Han
cock willjnot receive a single vote ;n the Dem
ocratic National Convention.
WHERE should one always expect to find a
bountiful supply of the milk of human kind
ness ? Within the pate of the cbnrch.
THE Ku-Klux-Klan burned the new School
i house in Carthage, Tenn., on Saturday night,
fta offVmoo tka in sheltered coloredl
pupils.
No less than six of the most influential
Republican newspapers of Missouri have run
up the name of Colfax for Vice President.
A STEAM ferry boat is to be placed on the
; Susquehanna river at Peach Bottom Ferry to
ply between the Lancaster and York county
shores.
FARMERS have been busy sowing oats dur
i ing the past week and planting potataes. Com
planti eg is next in order. The farmers are
hard pushed.
MR. SEWARD is going on au extended for
eign tour it the impeachment results in con
viction. It has been suggested that he will
endeavor to find out, if possible, where some
of his resent purchases are located.
A corr of Eliot's Indian Bible, a work
which no living mac can read, was sold at
auction at New York on last Tuesday, for
the extraordinary sum of SI,J 30, the high
est price ever paid for a printed book is this
country.
THE rolling mill of Messrs. Light is now in
working order. They roll cut plates to the
length of twenty-five feet, and make all kinds
of boiler and locomotive iron. They have a
fine prospect of success before them.—Leba
non Courier.
"THE pen is mightier than the sword.''
Gen. It. E. Lee believes this to be true, as
i he killed more Union soldiers in the Ander
sonville pen, than he did in any battle of the
war, by the sword or rifle.
THE new telegraph line between Denver
and Sante Fe will be completed by the Ist of
June. A new mail route will be opened be
tween the latter city and Hays city by the
j 15th of May.
THE Mayor of Philadelphia has licensed
one hundred and eleven places of amusement
this year, including theatres, concert halls,
lager beer saloons, with music and dance
houses.
THE only counties ia Pennsylvania through
which no railroad passes, and the limits of
which are not likely to be soon toncbed by a
railroad, are Fulton, Forest, Potter and
Greene.
C. W. MILLER, farmer, near Manheim,
Lancaster county, ha 3 a young chicken with
four legs. It only uses two of them in runn
ing and goes about quite briskly.
Is Greenland the young people who woo
each other, eat ten pound of tallow every.day
to prove their devotion. Scandleous.
A SMII.E may be bright while the heart .s
sad. The rainbow is beautiful in the air
while beneath is the moaning of the sea.
THE poor pittance of seventy years is not
worth being a vidian for. What matters it if
your neighbor lies >n a splendid tomb? Sleep
you in innocence.
GCILT is that which quclla the courage of
the blood, ties the tongue of the eloquent,
and makes greatness itself sneak and lurk and
behave itself poor— Shut/t.
PERSONS plowing and digging garden al
ready begin to turn up the locusts. The land
will soon be swarming with "Pburohs," come
to see the modern Moses!'"
POTTSTOWN has no water woiks. Tho
Ledger is urgiug the formation of a Compa
ny. for the purpose of supplying that growing
. town with water.
I A STEAM boiler exploded at Marshal,
i Phillips & Co.'s rolling mill, in Philadelphia,
on Monday of last week, )killiug one man and
1 injuring twelve others.
I THE new- bridgo over the Su.-quehauDa at
Columbia, Petnis., is to be erected on the
piers of the old one. and will be completed
l,y the tirt ot J next.