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V II RBORROW JFC LUTSS, BEDFORD, PA.
Xewsra ßSN LAWS.— We would call the special
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ter reptoutiblt to the publishers for the payment.
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tinues to sond, the subscriber is bound to pay for
it, if he take it out of the Pott Ojfice. The law
proceeds upon the ground that a man must pay
Cor what.be uses.
5. The courts have decided that refusing to take
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or removing and having them uncalled for, is
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Professional & jßushusiS (Sards.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
j nuN T. KEAGY,
ATTOKNEY-AT-LAW.
Office opposite Reed A Seholl's Bank.
Counsel given in Kngiisfc and German. [apl26]
jrr IMMELL AND LINGENFELTER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA.
Have formed a partnership in the practice of
the Law, in new brick building near the Lutheran
Church. [April 1, 1864-tf
Tyj. A. POINTS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA.
Respectfully tenders bis professional services
jo the public. Office with J. W. Lingcnfelter,
Esq., on Public Square near Lutheran Church.
promptly made. [Dec. y,'fit-tf.
J J AYES IRVINE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi
ness intrusted to his care. Office with G. 11. Spang,
Esq., on Juliana street, three doors south of the
Mengel House. May 24:1 y
I~JISPY M. ALSIP,
!I ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFOP.D, PA.,
Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi
ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin
a 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. apl 1, 1884.—tf.
B. F. MEYERS 1. W. DICKEBSOS
MEYERS A DICKERBON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BEDFORD, PEIX'A.,
Office nearly opposite the Mengel House, will
practice in the several Courts of Bedford county.
Pensions, bounties and hack pay obtained and the
purchase of Real Estate attended to. [may 11,'66-ly
P B. STUCKEY,
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW,
and REAL ESTATE AGENT,
Office on Main Street, between Fourth and Fifth,
Opposite the Court House,
KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI.
Will practice in the adjoining Counties of Mis
souri and Kansas. July 12:tf
G. L. RUSSELL. J. H. LOHGESKI KER
RUSSELL A LONGENECKER,
ATTORNEYS A COUNSELLORS AT LAW,
Bedford, Pa.,
Will attend promptly and faithfully to all busi
ness entrusted to their care. Special attention
given to collections and the prosecution of claims
for Back Pay, Bounty, Pensions, Ac.
J4S-Office on Juliana street, south of the Court
House. Aprils:lyr.
J* M'n. *• P- KERR
SHARPE A KERR.
A TTORSE YS-A T-LA W.
Will practice in the Courts of Bedford and ad
joining counties. All bnsiness 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 Scbcll, Bedford, Pa. mar2:tf
1. R. nURBORROW JOHN LUTI.
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
Inquirer office, and nearly opposite the ' Mengel
House" April 28, 1865:t
PHYSICIANS.
UfM. W. JAMISON, M. D.,
BLOODY RUN, PA.,
Respectfully tenders his professional services to
the people of that place and vicinity. [decß:lyr
QR. B. F. IIARRY,
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. Hofius. [Ap'l 1,64.
DK. S. G. STATLER, near Schellsburg, and
Dr. J. J. CLARKE, formerly of Cumberland
county, having associated themselves in the prac
tice of Medicine, respectfully offer their profes
sional services to the citizens of Schellsburg and
vicinity. Dr. Clarke's office and residence same
as formerly occupied by J. White, Esq.. dee'd.
S. G. STATLER,
Schellsburg, Aprill2:ly. J. J. CLARKE.
MISCELLANEOUS.
E. SHANNON, BANKER,
" 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 promptlymade. REAL ESTATE
bought and sold. feb22
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
v ' atch Chains. Breast Pins, Finger Rings, best
quality of Gold Pens. lie will supply to order
any thing in his line not on hand. [|jr.2B,'6s.
$ I'. HARBAUGH & SDN,
Travelling Dealers in
notions.
In the county once every two months.
"ELL GOODS AT <JITY PRICES.
Agents for the Chauibersburg Woolen Manufac
turing Company. APL |. Jy
I ) W. CROUSK
o„" i> .. WHOLESALE TOBACCONIST,
r. ® "treet two doors west of B. F. Harry's
, r ?> Bedford, Pa., is now prepared
-o sell by wholesale all kinds of CIGARS. All
•Tiers promptly filled. Persons desiring anything
in his Une will do well to give him a call.
Bedford Oct 20. '65.,
DURHORROW & Lil'TZ, Proprietors.
For the Bedford INQUIRER.
DOUBTING.
Oh is there * life whenj*e "go hence; "
A life of weal or woe?
Alas ! MO one has e'er returned froiu thence
To tell us this is so!
Are we frail mortals plodding on
To some uncertain fate,
With nothing turc to base upon
About that "future state?"
They talk of "mansions in the skies,"
And streets of "shining gold,"
W here tears are wiped from "weeping eves"
And rapturous joys unfold.
They tell of "never ending bliss;"
Of joys that "never Lie,"
In some "bright world" afar from this
Where ne'er is heard a sigh.
They speak of bands in "spotless white"
Who everlasting sing
Rapt antbemi in "perpetual light"
Before their God and King.
They say that aU is fragrance there;
That flowers never fade;
That faees a'l do suhshine wear
Without a tinge of shade.
That we shall meet the "loved and lost,"
Embrace them in that clime;
No more by angry surges tossed
As in this "gulf of time,"
So more parting; HO more pain;
I'nited there forever —
So grief ; no caie; no tinfnl ttain;
So deathly hand to never.
Can this be so?—O, tell me, SOUL!
I now appeal to thee;
Disperse the clouds that murky ro"
And make it clear to mo.
Is there for "weary souls" a rest,
An Immortality,
Where thou shale he " tupremrly hlrtt "
Through all ETERNITY?
Oh ! tell me shall we live fore'er —
0, SOUL ! shirk not the test;
Forestall this bitter, briny tear
And hearken this request!
Say ! have they told me truly, SOUL,
About that golden land,
Where chants in endlett chorus ro"
And saints immortal stand?
Oh .' mortal I trill auntcer plain—
"There it akome on high
li'feere Spring keeps up a ceatelctt reign,
WAere / thall never die.
Atk of NATURE—REASON—REVELATION,
The tame to yon they'll teach,
And tell you that through CHRIST'S SALVATION,
Seeking souls that Home will reach.
w. J. M
WHY ARE THE IRISH DEMOCRATS!
It would require a history of the rise and
progress and decay of American political par
ties for the last seventy years to answer the
above query satisfactorily.
* # *_ * • * * *
When Jefferson and Jackon were the re
presentatives of Democracy, in was a party
worthy ofthis Republic. But when "Brick"
Pomeroy essays the role of Jefferson, and
Johnson, with his treacherous stubbornness,
imagines himself acting the role of Jackson,
Democracy is but a "comedy" put on the
boards to please the prejudices of the igno
rant and the false. It is but draggiug the
mantle of the olden gods through the pur
lieus of crime, and drinking bob-nob with
pothouse Doliticians, for the purpose of
overthrowing intelligent justice and well
regulated liberty, and setting up crime and
license and saturnalia in their stead.
When the "Little Giant" of the West
breathed his last, counselling his children to
be true to the nation, then Democracy should
have died. What was left was but the body,
filled with the worst passions, the soul hav
ing departed. Then the mantle of the great
leaders of Democracy should have folded the
giant of the West in his grave, instead of
being torn into shreds by hungry hucksters
to be flaunted over the planks of the old
platform, broken up by the conflicting ele
ments into a dozen rafts, one raft steering
30Uth with ticoDoo for its bannur; anotbor
steering North with riot and murder for its
ensign; another, tho smallest, but the one
that had the live oak timbers and the
hickory flagstaff of the old craft, from which
flew the "War Democracy."
It was for its early virtues the Irish peo
ple joined it, and themselves being change
less, they have failed to understand how the
principles of one generation become effete
and will not suit for the next, especially in a
progressive age like this, and among a pro
gressive people like the Americans. Un
fortunately for Ireland and her people, we
are always content with things as our fath
ers have left them. We associate all old
things with sacredness, and look upon men
who are not content with a Constitution
framed in another age, and by a generation
surrounded by old institutions as fanatics.
Iconoclasts who are going around smashing
the brazen images of the past we look upon
with awe and hatred, even though those
idols are pressing down the world, and we
ourselves are groaning beneath their weight
while protecting their sacred uglinesses.
*********
"As it was, so it is," with our people.
They cannot see that the Republican party
is the first-born of the old Democracy, in
heriting all its parent virtues, and laying in
a plentiful stock of its own to suit the ad
vanced days in which we live. Convince
the Irish of this fact, and you make them
Republicans. Until so convinced, they will
be the honest "old guard" of Democracy,
around which treason and corruption will
rally, to use our honest countrymen to de
stroy the Republic and ride into power.
We ask the members of the Republican
party, and the editors of Republican jour
nals, whether they have taken the proper
means to reach the Irish people?
: * * * * * * * *
The principles of the "Republican party"
are for no sect, but for all men. It becomes
the duty of every member of the party to
invite all men to share in its councils and
avail themselves of its privileges. On the
other hand, the man who stands upon its
universal platform, and hoists his banner of
proscription, should be hurled from it un
ceremoniously. By what right will some
narrow bigot stand under the protecting
a?gis of Republicanism, and cry, VVe want
no Irish here? We want no Catholics here?
etc.
* * * * •* •
The majority of Irish people of America
arc Democrats beeause they believe that
party is right. They are led and used by
knaves, but the people arc honest. Con
vince them of their error. Act up to the
professions of Republicanism. Show them
that you believe in the rights of man. That
.3 floral aufc (general flrtospaprr, DrbotrD to i>olitirs, (Gtmration, Hitrrature anh fttorals.
you are of no creed. That the Catholic and
■ the Protestant and all others are equally
| dear to you as men. Kindness and sym
pathy will reach the hearts of our people.
But revile and abuse them, and your ene
mies catch up your words, and whisper them
into every Irish ear in the land.
Let men not flatter themselves that
Catholicity in its true interpretation is op
posed to Republicanism and universal suff
rage. The bishops and priests to a large
extent may be opposed to those things.
This is not owing to the Church so much as
to the fact that they are Irish and share the
prejudices and feelings common to our
race.
At the altar of God tho Church makes
men equal. The most violent Copperhead
in the land, if a Catholic, mutt —for the
Church says so—kneel liesidc the blackest
and lowliest African, and receive the "body
and blood of Christ," from the same hands.
What is this but setting the seal of equality
before God on all men?
It makes us sigh to behold the littleness
of some Republicans who cramp the spirit
of their great party to suit their own small
com prehensiveness.
The very unchangeableness of the Irish
should induce the Republican party to put
forth ail their efforts to gain them over.
They are not of those who have to be
coaxed to stand by principle. You cannot
drive them from you by abuse if they are
satisfied that they are right on principle.
The manner in which they are insulted and
abused by the Democracy fully proves the
correctness of this assertion.
In a word, the Irish are true to liberty,
as they understand it. Convince them that
they arc tor sectional in its application, and
they will enlarge their action.
As has often been said, the Irish are all
right at heart, but their heads are wrong.
Their hearts have been cultivated by their
kindly natures, but their heads have been
"cut oft ' by the English.— lr'th Republic.
gUarrHaums.
KATE'S PROPOSAL.
"You don't dare do it, Kate," laughed
Mag Reynolds.
"I'll wager my pearl ring that you'll
"back out" of it at the last moment," cried
Sue Dalcvin, slippingthe ring offher finger
and holding it up to view.
"Done!" exclaimed Kate; "and here is
my gold locket in the balance against your
ring." She unfastened the locket from the
cord around her throat as she spoke, and
the ring and locket were laid in the hands
of Mag Reynolds, to be held until claimed
by the winner.
"Ob, of course, you will say you will but
then we know you won't," they said in
chorus.
Kate Adams thrust her hand in her apron
pockets, pursed up her mouth in defiance,
and replied :
' I dare, and what is more, I will ask him
between this and to morrow afternoon."
live young ladies were standing in a vine
clad arbor in the garden at Judge Adams'
residence. Four of them had dared the
judge's daughter, Kate, the wildest romp
that ever wore gaiters and tore dresses, to
take advantage of the privileges leap year
affords, and propose to Dick Walton, a
rather stately, and, as the girls declared,
"altogether unapproachable" young geutle
man, then visiting, for a few weeks, her
father. As the girls matured their plans,
they failed to see a pair of grey eyes look
ing down upon them, nor did they hear the
suppressed laugh which proceeded from be
hind the tangled shrubbery.
"But how are wc to know?" queried the
girls.
' Meet me here at half-past five to-morrow
afternoon," replied Kate; and then, with
merry leave taking, they separated for their
several homes. Kate walked slowly towards
the house, resolving in her mind the best
mode of attack. Should she beard the lion
in his den, or should she come upon him
unawares, In some corner t Bbc concluded
that the latter was the best plan. As her
form disappeared in the distance, the vines
parted, and a young gentleman stepped
through the aperture into the arbor. His
eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Ah ! bonuic Kate, you'll get caught in
a trap of your own setting ;" and he laugh
ed outright.
Among four children, Kate was the ouly
girl, and was spoiled in consequence. Not
one of her three brothers could hunt, ride,
fish, or whistle better than she. And yet,
when she was in the parlor, there was not
one of her young lady friends one whit pret
tier or more accomplished than mistress
Kate. She danced beautifully, had a mag
nificent voice, and played and sung superb
ly ; but at the bottom of it all she was a
natural born coquette, and flirted wickedly
with her male friends. Dick VV'altou, after
a three weeks residence under her father's
roof, had become desperately smitten, but,
knowing her flirting propensities declined
adding himself to her already long string of
disconsolate adorers. Once in particular,
when her father desired her to look uncom
monly well, because of a certain elderly per
sonage, whom he wished to call "son in law,"
she astonished them both by appearing be
fore them with her arms akimbo, and a ci
gar between her lips. The old beau was so
disenchanted that he then and thercdcclined
the honor of an alliance with Miss Kate,
which so curaged the father that he ordered
the suiter from the house.
That same day the young lady began her
operations on Diek, but he eluded her.
It she found him in the parlor, he made
some pretext to leave the room. If, by
chance, she met him in the garden, he
immediately fled to the house. To go to
his room she did not dare. So wearied
out, she went to bed, determining to try
again the next morning. She did not, for a
moment, suppose he would even answer
her. She imagined he would turn up his
aristocratic proboscis and leave the house
in disgust. Kate did not like the latter
idea very well for, way down in the bottom
mest part of her heart, lay Dick's image.
The next morning she arose and dressed
herself with scrupulous care. She had
some misgivings about it though. It did not
seem half as easy then as it did the day be
fore. She let pass many opportunities, and
it was one o'clock on the fatal afternoon be
fore she mustered up corragc to "do" the
rather delicate business. Her father and
mother away, her brothers were
taking a comfortable siesta, or gone hunt
ing; the "lion" was lolling on the parlor
sofa. Kate crept softly to the parlor door.
There the enemy was, certainly not at all
HEDFORI), PA., FRIDAY,
formidable looking. Perhaps she thought ,
so. for she walked calmly in. The proprie
tor of the sofa looked up anil bowed politely,
but there was a roguish twinkle in his eyes,
and he seemed to be trying to conceal a >
smile, for the comers of his mouth tw itched j
and he made a motion to knock off an tuia
gina / fly, which he thought had settled on
his nose. But Kate did nut observe this,
for she was industriously studyng the pat
tern of the carjiet.
"Mr. Watson —" said Kate.
"That's me," .-slid the occupant of the
sofa, looking innocently unconscious.
Kate ignored his remark, and continued
in an almost inaudible tone, but which he
heard nevertheless.
"Mr. Walton, lam come—"' Poor Kate
stopped, unable to proceed.
"I am aware that you have. Proceed to
business, my dear." and the creature actu
: lly tubbed his hands briskly together.
She looked up and faced him boldly, her
cheeks blazing with shame and rage.
"1 am come, sir, to take advantage of
leap year: that is, being impressed with a
sense of your superiority over my other nude
friends, and also being smitten with your
fine manners and persona] beauty, I have
conic to offer you my haud, and hojie you
wi'l think enough of the offer to accept,
she stammered.
"You may tusk my pardon,' said Dick,
drawing his handkerchief before his eyes,
and speaking in a subdued whisper.
Kate was thunderstiuck. She had ex
pected an indignant refusal. She proposed
to him for the fun of the thing, and because
the girls had dared her to do it.
"Barkis appears to be w : ' : n',' said she,
desperately.
"Barkis A-willin'," was the reply "tnii
the depths of the handkerchief.
"She may tie, but I'm not,' she cried
fiercely.
"Yes, you are. Oh, dear, you ve broke
my virgin heart," cried Dick, in a tragic
tone.
"Virgin fiddlesticks, quoth she, eyeing
him suspiciously, and edging toward the
parlor door.
"You've offered me your hand, and I'd
take' em both if they weren't in your apron
pockets," he howled.
A bright idea struck Kate. She would
make love to him furiously, and he would
retreat and leave the field.
"But 1 don't want you to marry me."
wept Dick, his handkerchief still before bis
eyes.
"Why?" queried she.
"You re a-a-a.a romp," he gasped.
"I am a lady," she replied, indignantly.
"You whistle, and jump, and fish, and ac
tually, yes, actually shoot" Dick appeared
to be having a hysteric fit.
"I'll shoot you!" and she made a dash
for the door. But Dick was ahead of her,
and, as her hand grasped the door knob he
seized her wrists.
"You have already shot my heart fu'l of
Cupid's arrows," ho exclaimed, giving her
a look that caused her cheek to burn, and
made her eyes drop in confu.-ion,
"lie led her unwillingly to the sofa, and
sat down beside her. "Kate, I love you
with my whole heart, and I ask you, in all
sincerity to become Mrs Dick Walton." His
yoice was low and eager.
"But my urimaidcnly conduct. I—l
—" her lips quivered, and two great tears
rolled down her face.
"If you were like other girls I would not
care one whit for you; but. Kate, I love you
because you dare do things others dare not
do," he said, persuasively.
"You you-you said I was a romp;" she
was crying in earnest.
"Well, didn't you tell Sue Dcvclin that
I was a 'bear?"
"How do you know ?" She stopped
crying, and gazed at him in utter amaze
ment.
"I listened, Miss," was the courageous
reply.
"Indeed, and you heard —"
"The whole plot. I was behind the
arbor, and, hearing my name mentioned,
could not resist the desire of hearing your
opinions about my illustrious self," Dick
smiled, unconcernedly; then he continued.
"You may tell your companions that you
ar engaged to that "horrid creature," and
expect to become Mrs. Dick Walton in one
month from to day." Kate blushed and
attempted to release her hands, for .Mr. and
Mrs. Adams were coming, and that instant
entered the parlor. Dick got up and an
nounced Kate's surrender.
Mr. und Mrs. Adams congratulated them,
kissed their daughter, shook hands, and,
upon the whole seemed perfectly overjoyed
at the way things had turned out.
Next day Kate met her companions and
engaged them for bridesmaids, and a few
weeks later everv one of her friends received
her wedding cards. Kate's advice to her
companions is : "My proposal ended well;
go and do likewise." To wh'ch we say,
Amen!
ARNOLD'S TREASON.
We extract from the address of Professor
Coppee, delivered to the graduating class of
West Point, a graphic veration of the trea
son of Benedict Arnold, which, asone of the
most impressive lessons of hist >ry, cannot
be too frequently reviewed by American
youth, or hearkened to by men of mature
years: And now, gentlemen, let me spend
the very short time allotted to me in elabo
rating one thought of common interest to
cadets. I find the text in the words of our
immortal Washington, and a few statistics
of the Revolutionary history, doubtless well
known to you all, must be given to elucidate
it. On the 22d of September, 1780, General
Arnold returned from his iuterview with
Major Andrew, at and near the house of
Joshua II ett Smith, to Beverly, and he
made all preliminary arrangement for the
surrender of this post, but without, as far as
is known, taking any one into his confidence.
On the 2-ith, the British were to confte up
the river and take West Point. This was
well timed, as Washington wasnot expected
to return from Hartford unt'l the 26tb.
Most unexpectedly, however, he changed
his plans and returned through Duchess
county to Fishkill on the 2-kh. He stayed
that night with the French Ambassador,
who was there, and in happy ignorance of
the snaky treason, whose final coil was being
wound; he took saddle before dawn of the
25th, in order to reach General Arnold's
headquarters in time to breakfast with the
General and Mrs. Jftnold, and then to iu
speet the works at West Point.
Some soldiershad gone before with Wash
ington's baggage, to announce his purpose
to Arnold; but as he approached Arnold's
house, he turned off toward the river.
Lafayette, who was riding with him, ex
claimed: "General, that is the wrong way;
you know Mrs. Arnold is waitine for us."
IV ashington replied, in a pleasant way, "All
the youog men are in love with Mrs. Ar
nold, and added, "Go and take your
breakfast, and tell Mrs. Arnold not to wait
for me; that I will be there by and by." So
the staff went to Arnold's house and took
breakfast, the countenance of the host,
cld blooded as .he mart, being unable to
conceal his secret trouble and misgivings.
Ibe British had not come, and there were
no tidings. Washington had arrived two
davs sooner than he was expected. While
at breakfast, Lieutenant Allen, of Arnold's
commaud, came in with a letter. It was
from below. He tore it open, expecting to
read news of the enemy's movement up the
river. Horror and astonishment; the tidings
were from Major Jameson, that Major
Andre was in his hands, a prisoner and a
spy. Leaping from his seat, he announced
to his guests that an urgent message called
for his presence at West Point; and he left
hat as a message, should General Washing
ton arrived before his return, he would re
;urn, he said, as soon as possible. He then
vent to his wife's room, artd ecnt foi her.
.n a few words he announced the necessity
f going at once to the British lines. Leav
ing her in a swoon on the floor, he rushed
cut, mounted one of the horses of Washing
ton's cavalcade in waiting at the door, gal
loped down a steep pathway to Beveriy
tbek, got into his six-oared barge, aud
ordered the hoarsmen to pull with a will for
Teller's Point, prontissing them au cxtra-ra.
tion of ruui and a reward in money, and
telling them that he was hurrying that he
. might transact bis business there and re
; turn without delay to meet General Wash
| Ington.
j As they passed Teller's Point, and neared
I l he ultureman of-war, he spread his white
handkerchief as a flag of truce, and reached
the British ship,a traitor, in safety—a villain
under protection which could not fail. It
was a race for life, and he won it. Just af
! ter Arnold's flight Washington arrived at
Beverly. On being told that Arnold had
! gone to West Point, he took a hasty break
fast, and hurried over to meet him there,
j As the boat approached the landing, Wash
ington was surprised to find that there was
no salute, and no guard turned out to receive
him. Indeed, the commanding officer,
Colonel Lamb, of the artillery, was leisur
\ !v strolling down the path as thebarge land
od. Confusid when he saw the General
i i Chief, he stammered out: "Ilad I any
idea your Excellency was comning, I would
have given your Excellency a proper recep
tion." "Sir," exclaimed Washington, "is
not General Arnold here?" "No, sir. He
has not been here these two days, and I
have not heard from him in that time."
Astonished, and recurrihg to his old suspi
cions, Washington inspected the works and
returned about noon to Arnold's house.
There Hamilton met him with the proofs of
the treason, all the papers taken in
Andre's boot, which had by this time arriv
ed. The messenger had arrived just four
hours after Arnold's escape. Looking
around him he turned to Knox and Lafayet
te and said in a solemn, almost heart-bro
ken manner: "Whom can we trust now?"
UKUNK.
Drunk ! Drunk! merciful heavens, what a
fearful fact! O, man ! did you ever pause
and think how terrible that word sounds and
what a world of unutterable anguish and
misery it conjures up before the tniod ?
Drunk ! some, go with me to that beautiful
cottage home yonder. The happy wife is
busy with her household cares, and the
,-weet little children are all glee and hap
piness. The evening draws on apace, and
mother and children begin to look out and
watch for the approach of the noble husband
and tender father; but, strange to say, he
comes not. Night ascends herebor. throne,
and spreads her dark mantle over the earth,
and all nature sinks into the calm repose of
slumber. The birds cease their songs, and
; the weary sons of toil for rest in
"Tir'd nature's" sweet restorer, balmy sleep,"
and yet the husband comes not. Anxious
thoughts crowd unbidden into the mind of
the wife, and her heart trembles with fear,
She despatches a messenger to find and
bring home her husband. In a short time
he returns home and hesitatingly informs
ber that he is drunk. God only knows the
fearful agony that rends her heart, and fills
her eyes with tears. No tongue can tell, nor
language describe it. Had he been brought
home a mangled, corpse, killed by some un
foreseen accident, she could have bowed in
humble reverence and resignation to the
mysterious will of Divine Providence: but
the awful announcement—drunk —pierces
her he art as with a dagger, and a fearful cry
j of agony, wrung from her inmost soul, goes
up to the Infinite Father for help. The night
of anguish passes slowly away, and ever
and anon the word drunk comes up as a
| fearful spectre and fills the soul with agony.
O, man ! when the tempter holds out the
wine cup, and invites you to drink and be
merry, pause and think of the dear wife
and little ones at home. Think what woe
! and misery it will bring to them, and how
the fearful word drunk will rend their
hearts with anguish too deep for utterance,
and cause them to hide their faces in shame.
For the sake of the loved ones at home,
j say to the tempter, "Get behind me Satan."
A few days ago I met a noble looking
young man on the street reeling under the
power of rum. The light of intelligence had
faded from his eyes, and there was only the
idiotic stare of drunkenness. I thought of
his mother and sisters at home, and bow the
word drunk would startle them —how it
would ring in the mother's ear as the death
; knell of her fondest hopes; how it would
| make her heart bleed! Drunk! See him,
j as he leans against a friendly house for sup
port; he stands ready to fail into the open
> jaws of death and hell, unconscious of his
> approaching fate. Drunk ! If the angels in
heaven are capable of weeping they cover
their faces in sorrow and weep over such a
scene. Oh, young man, before you put the
fearful beverage of hell to your lips, pause
and think of the tender mother who watch
ed over your helpless innocence, and of the
fond sisters who love you as only a sister
can love. Think of the anguish the word
drunk will bring to their fond hearts, and
dash the intoxicating cup from you. Shun
it as you would avoid hell.
Friendly reader, come and look upon an
other picture. It is midnight. A hasty pull
at the door bell arouses the inmates and
1 brings them to the door. It is thrown open,
and a company of men enter and lay the un- j
conscious form of a man on the lounge. His
eyes roll wildly, and every labored breath
sends the foam from his mouth. The moth
er s heart is chilled with fear as she recog
nizes the form of a loved son. But oh, hor
rors ! what anguish rends her soul, and how
her heart sinks within her mind. DRUNK !
Ob, the agony of thai moment of sorrow!
She would give a thousand worlds, if they
were at her command, if she could blot out
the fact, but this is impossible. Oh, youDg
man, remember that it is a fearful thing
thus to trauiplo under foot the claims that
God and man have upon you. Drunk! Let
that never be said of you again.
BULLS AND BLUNDERS OF NEWS
PAPERS.
The Adverthrrt Gazette makes the fol
lowing collection of this class of literary
curiosities:
A Wisconsin paper says • During a
fierce thunder storm near Mount Desert,
the lightning came down through the roof
of a house and a bed, upon which lay a
husband and wife, throwing the man out of
bed, thence into the cellar and out through
the drain, and then plowed up the ground
to the barn-yard, where it killed a cow."
A Connecticut editor gives an account of
a man who "blew out his brains after bid
ding his wife good-bye with a shot gun."
The Salt Lake Vidctte has the following:
"Correction—lnstead of 'people all very
lousy,' in a letter from Crystal Park the
other day, read, 'people are very busy.'"
The strongest man has just been heard
from. He was lecturing to a female assem
bly at the West, and an editor thus de
scribes the scene: "Three thousand ladies
hanging on the lips of one man."
The Independent , in speaking of a new
steam brewery in the town, remarks: "We
are glad to see important articles manufac
tured at home, at greatly reduced prices."
An account of the fire at Barnum's, which
was telegraphed from New York, congratu
lates the country on "the escape of the fe
male giantess." We think a male giantess
would be a still greater curiosity.
A Western editor in one of his papers,
says: "For the effects of intcmperance )
see our inside.''
The Springfield Republican tells of a
horse which ran away in that city, "throw
. ing the driver out and cutting a severe gash
in one of his hind legs."
The World says that "cx-Governor An
; drew was born in 1818, previous to which e
vent he had two strokes of appoplexy, one
in 1804 and the other in 1800."
The classio London gpectator makes a cu
rious slip when it speaks of Matilda Griggs,
; who "was stabbed by a lover to whom she
had borne a child in thirteen places.
A notice of a recent steamboat explosion
in a Western papers ends as follows: "The
I Captain swam ashore. So did the cham
ber maid; she was insured for $15,000, and
loaded with iron."
An editor, referring to a patent metallic
air-tight coffin, says: "No person having
once tried one of these coffins will ever use
I any other."
A political paper in Minnesota, in advo
I eating the election of its candidate, says that
j its "standard bearer, Charles E. Flandrau,
j has twice laid down his life to save Western
Minnesota from being devastated by the In
dians." Its opponents thinks a dead
' corpse (!) after all a suitable candidate for a
dead party."
From the Nevada Tresis* we clip an ac
count of a meeting held in San Francisco by
the poor citizens who were trying to obtain
free grants of land from the State: "Judge
Turner, of Nevada, in addressing the meet
ing, had occasion to say that 'if the bold
hearted, landless men of San Francisco would
work together and exercise the right of pe
tition and discussion, they would each of
them, ere long, have a little home for his
children.' Imagine Judge Turner's con
sternation on reading in the Bulletin the
next morning, that he said : 'lf the bald
headed landlords of San Francisco would
work together, they would each of them,
ere long, heave a little more land for their
children."
A Syracuse printer, in setting up a book
publisher's advertisement, construed one of
Dickens' works thus: "'Barney," by Itudge
—sl 50."
Benjamin Franklin, once putting to press
a form of the Common Prayer, the letter
"e" in the following passage dropped out
unperceived by him: "We shall be chang
ed in the twinkling of an eye." When the
book appeared, to the horror of the devout
worshippers, the passage read : "We shall
all be hanged in the twinkling of an eye."
A religious paper noticed, by an odd typo
graphical error, that "a new church has
been founded at Elizabeth, N. J., under
suspicious circumstances." The suspicious
was a misprint for auspicious.
A reporter for a London paper wrote the
verdict of a coroner's jury : "Died from
hemorrhage," and the public gained the
information the next day that the deceased
"died from her marriage."
akistockatic pkide.
Among all the varied forms and phases
in which pride exhibits itself to the public,
there is none more disgusting and ridiculous
than that aristocratic or dandied form which
it assumes in the persons of those who seem
to consider it an indignity to be seen labor
ing with their hands, or performing any of
the drudgeries of life. They think it above
the dignity of a gentleman, in which char
acter they would like to be considered, to
soil their delicate fingers with a 'mean em
ployment,' as they would call such employ
ment as most men engage in to earn, with
honesty, their daily bread. These men of
starch and perfume, would look upon it as
an everlasting disgrace to be surprised by
their consequential acquaintances in the act
of rolling a wheelbarrow through the streets
in the transaction of necessary business, as
the immortal Franklin used to do through
the streets of Philadelphia, or in carrying
provisions from the market, or in tilling the
land. This foolish pride is often a heavy
tax, levied upon the purse of its possessor,
for, often do we see such a person, in order
to keep up appearances, expend his money,
and subjecting himself almost to starvation,
and to every domestic inconvenience, to
prevent his pride being mortified, and to
support his fancied dignity. Such dandied
fops arc the mere insects of society, as per
fectly useless as the guilded butterfly which
hovers about the flowers in the sunshine of
summer, but is swept away by the cold
blasts of autumn.
VOla. 41: NO. 26.
MEN WITHOUT TRADED.
Li a recent conversation with Doctor Git
on, private Secretary of Gov. Geary, we
learned a curious fact concerning crime and
men without trades and professions. Dr.
Gibon has been paying particular attention
lately, to the application daily and almost
hourly made for Executive clemency and
pardon. Those not acquainted with the
burdensome routine of Executive duty in
this respect, cannot possibly form any idea
of the embarrassment, the harrowing solici
tude and the overwhelming responsibility of
properly wielding the pardoning power.
The curious part of Dr. Gibon's statement
is, that in nineteen cases out of twenty,
young convicts arc men without trades or
professions, who have been left by their pa
rents to reach maturity without having un
dergone the discipline and the training ac
quired while learning a trade or studying a
profession When parents or friends ap
plying for pardon for such offenders, have
been asked why they were not taught trades
the reply has been vouchsafed —" Be was
too weak;" "Be KS too sensitive," or "Be
thought it VMS beneath him." Too weakly,
too sensitive, too proud to learn a trade, but
not too proud to keep out of the penitentia
ry ! Of course we do not pretend to assert
that learning a trade or profession is the sure
way to keep out of doing wrong. There are
great rascals among mechanics and profes
sional men. But the man who has a trade
or profession, is always the most indepen
dent, and lias fairer prospects at hand of
permen n' success in life. And what is also
true, in this connection, in a prqptieal way,
is the lack of skilled labor in the United
States. American boys for the last ten
years have been loath to learn trades. Too
many of them desire to wield yard sticks in
stead of saws and planes. The
consequence now is, that skilled labor is
scarce, and that the best places in our work
shops are filled by foreigners. By some
kiud of teaching we must reform this evil.
There must be more encouragement for boys
to learn trades —and the mechanical voca
tion must be dignified and elevated, by be
ing recognized as worthy the study and the
acquirement of the most intelligent and the
most favored in every community. We met
a lad a day or two since from a neighboring
village, who was on his way to enter one of
the large machine shops in Philadelphia to
learn a trade. He had an education to fit
him for any profession, and when he reaches
his majority he will become the possessor of
a competency; nevertheless, the native good
sense of the boy, backed by the practical ad
vice of an older brother, induced him to
learn a trade, and we predict that that boy
will become a man of responsibility and in
fluence in any community blessed hereafter,
with his citizenship.
Doctor Gibon's observations and conclu
sions on this subject are sound and practical.
He thinks if more boys learn trades, future
Governors of the Commonwealth will have
less applications for pardons to dispose of.—
State Guard.
NEVER TOO OLD TO LFARN.— Socrates,
at an extreme age, learned to j'Jay musical
instruments.
Cato, at eighty years of age thought prop
er to learn the Greek language.
Plutarch, when between seventy and eigh
ty, commenced the study of Latin.
Boecaueia was thirty-five years of age
when he commenced his studies in light lit
erature; yet he became one of the great mas
ters of the Tuscan dialect—Dante and Pet
rarch being the other two.
Sir Henry Spelman neglected the sciences
in his youth, but commenced the study of
them when he was between fifty and sixty
years of age. After this he became a most
learned antiquarian and lawyer.
Colbert, the famous French minister, at
sixty years of age returned to his Latin and
Law studies.
Ludovico, at the great age of one hun
dred and fifteen, wrote the memories of his
own times.
Ogilby, the translator of Homer and Vir
gil, was unacquainted with Latin and Greek
until he was past the age of fifty.
Franklin did not fully commence his phil
osophical pursuits until he had reached his
fiftieth year.
Aceroso, a great lawyer, being asked Why
he began the study of law so late, answered,
that if indeed he began it late, he could,
therefore, master it the sooner.
_ Dryden in his sixty-eighth year commen
ced the translation of the Illiad, and his
most pleasing productions were written in
his old age.
EASILY SIITED.— The other day a young
gentlemen from the country stepped into
Landis' Jewelry store in Bhippensburg, and
informed the proprietor that his occupation
was that of a carpenter, and he desired to
get a bosom pin emblematical of that pro
fession. The obliging jeweller looked over
his stock, and finding nothing else, showed
him a very fine masonic pin. The young
man looked at it carefully. "Yes,"he said,
"that is it. There is the compass and the
square; I use both of them, but why didn't
they put a saw in it? It's first rate as far
as it goes. Ilellow! there's a G there, what
does that stand for?"
The jeweler didn't know.
The man studied it carefhl'y f or a moment,
and a bright thought struck him. His face
flashed as if he had made a discovery.
"I have it," he said; "it's all right; G
stands for gimlet. That will do. I'll take
it."
There was a little touch of sadness in his
voice as he pinned the emblem on his coat
and went away muttering:
"Square, compass and gimlet. Ido wish
there was a saw, though."
PITHOLE ANGELS,— The Tionesta Bee
gets off the following: "In a neighboring
village lives a family who recently emigrated
from Pithole, and which contains among
other members two little girls, Annie and
Minnie, aged respectively four and eight
years. One night, a short time since, as
her mother put Annie to bed, she told her
'to be a good girl, go to sleep, and the an
gels would come and watch her all through
the night.' Little Annie's sleep was as
sound as the nature of the case would ad
mit, her tender flesh being a rare feast for
the miniature snapping turtles that infested
her bed. The next morning when her moth
er came up to take her out of bed, she gave
the following opinion of the angels: 'Mother
I don't like them angels. I don t want
them to watch me any more, they bite me
so.' 'Oh, mother! mother!' exclaimed Min
nie, 'I know what kind of angels them is;
them is Pithole angels,'
KATES OF ADVERTISING.
Ail advertisement* for lew than 3 months 10
cent* per line for each insertion. Special rojee#
one-half additional. All reaolntiomt oMocia
tion, communication* of a limited or individ' 1
interest and notice* of marriage* and tie*.hi, ex
ceeding fire lines, 10 et*. per line. All legal noti
ces of every kind, and all Orphans' Court sod
other Judicial sales, are required by law to be pub
lished in both papers. Editorial Notices 15 C- ts
per lice. AU Advertising due afterfirat insertion.
A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers.
3 monts. 6 months. 1 year
One square $ 4,40 i 8.00 s'o,oo
Twe squares - 8.00 Si.oo 18.10
Three square* 3.00 12.00 20.00
One-fourth c01umn........ 11.00 20,00 35.00
Half column 18.00 25.00 *5.00
One c01umn.................. 30,00 45.00 80.00
PERFECT PRINTING.
Some people of extremely sensitive per
ceptions are made nervous by a typographi
cal error in their newspaper. They regard
the printer as a machine whose fingers should
be made of steel and whose physical condi
tion should be always perfect, and accord
ingly they expect perfection, nothing less,
as the result of his labors. A wrong letter
makes them fidgetty—an "out" or a "doub
let" throws them into convulsions of rage
and disgust. Now wc beg leave to say to
any of our readers who may possess such an
extremity of sensitiveness, that perfection in
typography is rarely, if ever attained, and in
proof of the statement, submit the following
which wc clip from a late foreign paper:
It has been doubted whether an absolute
ly perfect copy of a classical author has ever
been printed. A wealthy amateur tried to
mak a perfect copy of 'Os Luciados,' of
Camoens; and, with the aid of the accom
plished printer, Didot, got up a magnificent
edition of it at an enormous expense, which
was not to contain a single error. All
thought that he had succeeded, but when
tie book was printed, an error was discov
ered in some of the copies, by one of the let
ters of the word luzituno being displaced by
some accident while working the sheets.
The same experiment was made by a fa
mous firm in Glasgow. Every precaution
was taken to procure typographical accura
cy. Six experienced proof readers were
employed, who devoted many hours to each
page, and when they had done with it, it
was posted up in the hall of the university,
with a notice offering a reward of fifty
pounds to any person who discovered an er
ror. Each page was thus posted for two
weeks before it went to press. No error
was discovered , but when the work was
printed, several errors were detected, one of
which was in the first line of the first page.
THE BENEFITS OF USINU TEA.— The
Boston Journal of Chcmiitry publishes a
lengthy article on the properties of tea, in
the course of which the ts, Iter says that it is
no matter of wonder with him that the
brain-workers, in all the years since tea was
introduced, hat e regarded it with highest
favor. It has a power to subdue irritabili
ty, refresh the spirits, and renew the ener
gies, such as is possessed by no other agent.
When 'the system of man is exhausted by
labor or study a cup of tea re-invigorates
and restores as no other form of food or bev
erage can. He thinks it promotive of lon
gevity, and adds:
"Tea saves food by lessening the waste of
the body, soothes the vascular system, and
affords stimulus to the brain. Ihe young
do not need it, and it is worthy of note that
they do not crave or like it. Chi'dren wid
frequently ask for coffee, but seldom for tea.
To aged people whose powers of digestion
and whose bodily substance have to fad to
gether, it is almost a necessity."
HON. RKYERDY JOHNSON'S appointment
as Minister to England, apparently, gives
(great aatii fiwiion in that country, judging
from the flattering reception with which the
announcement has been received by the Lon
don press. The JYmes says that "no envoy
could be sent that would lie hailed with more
confidence as the honored spokesman of a
great nation. His intellect is admirably
trained to discuss the pending or probable
issues with precision, impartiality, dignity of
character, breadth of learning and eharm of
manner." The Daily \cics says that the
"long experience and training of Mr. John
son guarantees that he will represent the
United States as a whole, and not section
ally." Our Washington despatches state
that the principal object of Mr. Johnson's
mission will be the settlement of the Ala
bama claims, and that he will leave for liis
new field of duly about the middle of July.
It is announced that no change is to be made
in the Secretaries of Legation.— Bait. Amer.
A PLUCKY old fellow whose son was a stu
dent at one of our New England colleges,
spent tbe day with him and stopped to tea.—
When his cnp"Va3 filled he seized a bowl of
salt, which he supposed to be sugar, and pnt
the usual quantity in his tea. Sly glances
and suppressed "snickering" led him to sus
pect that something was wrong, but the old
fellow, who didn't liked to be laughed at,
worried it down, and putting on a face that
was intended to make everybody think that
be liked his "dose of salts," he called for
another cup, and upon receiving it, said to the
head snickerer:—"Young man, will you be
kind enough to pass that bowl of salt?" The
salt was passed, and amid the most breath
less silence, he dipped a couple of spoonfuls
into his tea, stirred it up, and ta3ted it with
a look of apparent satisfaction. "Why, Mr.
said the young man opposite to him,
"do you drink salt in your tea?" "Always,"
answered the old man, with great emphasis,
and in his pleasantest manner.
KINO THEODORE, it is stated, advised his
captains to attack the British by night, but
they declined, and descended to their deaths
by daylight. Had they obeyed, they would
have had a new proof of the power which
science can bring to bear in aid of slaughter.
Sir Robert Napier had with him an appar
atus for employing the magnesium light on
a grand scale. At a distance of 600 yards a
bewildering blaze of light WOT Id have boon
thrown into the eyes of the Abysinlans,
and the British, themselves in impenetrable
shadow, would have shot down their ene
mies at leisure.
IT IS not until the flower has fallen off that
the fruit begins to ripen. So in life it is
when the romance is past that the practical
usefulness begins.
THE more a woman's waist is shaped like
an hour glass the quicker will the sands of
her life ran out.
IT is the work of a philosopher to be every
day subduing his passions, and laying aside
liis prejudices.
CONSCIENCE, be it ever so little a worm
while we live, grows suddenly to a serpent on
the death-bed.
YOUTH writes hopes upon the sand, and
age advances like the sea and wipes them
out.
THE man who got up a sensation grew
dizzy and tumbled down.
THE man who was brought upstanding
must have wore' out many shoes and boots.
TRANSPORTED FOR LIFE—A man who
marries happily.