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A Postmastor is required to give notice by tetter , (returning a paper dT CLASS HOTEL. Thanking the public for past favors, I respectfully solicit r. renewal of their patronage. N. B. Hacks will run constantly between the Hotel and the Springs, may 17,"69:1 j WM. DIBERT, Prop'r. PXIHASUE HOTEL, lj HUNTINGDON, PA. This old establishment having been leased by MORRISON, formerly proprietor of the Mor rison House, has been entirely renovated and re lurnithed arid supplied with all tbe modern im. j provemeuts and conveniences necessary to a flrst ciass Hotel. 1 be dming room has been removed to the first "•' and ig now spacious and otry,n l thei-ham <>E,• are all well ventilated, and the proprietor wit. endeavor to make his guests perfectly at home. —ddreaa, J. MORRISON, ~, , EICHASGB HOTEL, Huntingdon, Pa. JOHN I.t'TZ. Editor and Proprietor. er y- ung man can do better here than in the East. The chances are in his fvor. A-> Webster said, "There is room above. But there is no room here for tueu who expect a fortune o drop out of the skies or spring spontaneously out bf the earth. It is a good dtal here as elsewhere. We Lave to work for our owu bread, and those who work hardest get the most sod best." BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY, O T. 29- 1869. THE NEtV SLATE. See my -late I I dot it new, Cos 1 b'oke the other, Put my 'ittle foot right froo, Kunniir' after mother. I tan make you lots o' sings, Pass as you tan tell 'em, T's and B's and big O rings, Only I tan't spell 'em. 1 tan make a funny pig. Wid a turlv tail-y, 'lt le eyes, and snout so big iPokiu' in a pail-y I tan make a elephant, Wid his trunk a hartgiu' ; An' a boy—who says I tan't?— Wid his dun a baugiu'. Au' the smoke a tummiii' out (Wid my t'umb I do it. Itubbin' all the white about), Sparks a flyin' froo it. I tan make a pretty house Wid a irce behind it, An' a'ittle mousy mouse Butiuiu round to find it. I tan put my hand out flat I On the slate, and draw it (Ticklio' is the worst of that) I Did you ever saw it? I tan draw me runnin' 'bout— Mamma's 'ittle posset (Slate so dusty, rubbin' out, Dess oo'd better wass it). Now, and then, s'all I make a tree Wid a birdie on it? All my piciures you's ail see It you'll wait a minute. No, I dess I'll make a man Juss like Uncle Holly. See it tummiii, fass's il tan ' Bel my slate is jolly I gUsrdlitnnwiS. DKEAIL the Phenomenon of Dreams—Activity oj the Mental Faculties During Sleep—Nov et Ideas on the Subject—Remarkable In stances, etc., etc. 1 lie N'-w Yoik Keening Mail publishes a Very interesting article on "Dreams," from which wo take the following extracts : DREAMING. The uiind, now liberated from the shack le-of its earthly tenement, opens upon its career of fancy. It annihilates space and time. The earth is too narrow for its wan deiings and the infinite expanse is alone ca pable of furnishing a field for its rapid fl.ght. '•How strange is sleep ! when his dark spell lies On the drowsy lids of human eyes, The years of a life will fl,. a t along In the compass of a page's song ; And the mountain's peak and the ocean's VS ill scarce give food to his passing eye. ' The stage of dreaming is characterized by the perfect closure of one or more of the avenues of special some. When this oc curs, the harmony between the world and ourselves is broken. The mind is DO longer controlled by outward influences, but is struggling under the combined effects of it own innate powers end imperfectly trans mitted sensational impressions. We have lost the means whereby the perception o! an impression of our sense can be tested by the co operating scrutiny of any. Dr. Ab ererombie says that ''in dreams the impres sions which arise in the mind are believed to have a real and present existence ; and this belief is not corrected, as in the waking state, by comparing the conception with the things of the external world ; and that the ideas of images in the mind follow one an other, according to associations over which we have on control; we cannot, as in the wakiug state, vary the series or stop it at our will. The wonderful clearness at times ot the mind iu dreams, must have been ob served by all who have given attention to the subject. This lucidity is particularly observed in imaginary conversation, public speaking and composing, the memory ol wlich the individual seldom retains 011 awaking, but he is astonished at the exuber ance of his idea- as well as the ea-e with which he expressed theui. During sleep the mental organ presents the same phe nomena as when awake, for in dreams cer tain elements only are actively excited— t hose having reference to the object of the ! dream—but the mote passive organs are ready to change their -tate, as circumstances tiiay aipe to change the character of thi dream. On being suddenly aroused, we are generally conscious of having dreamed, with little or no recolk-etion, however, of the subject. But when we awake gradually— the necessity for longer sleep having cea-ed —the senses recover their functions one af ter another, until ail are fully awake. In such cases the dream is mo.-t fully remem bered. To this general fact, however, there are exceptions, for when suddenly aroused either by intensity of mental excitement, or from external cause-, we retain vividly the strong impression then existing, beeau-e the senses of external relation are taken by sur- j prise, and. even though awakened, the train * of thought cannot be in all cases so quickly j arrested. The mind is at all times subject I to its proper stimuli; but during sound sleep j that of external relation is cut off by the tor por of the special senses, and it is therefore less liable to be activtly engaged than when all of its sourc s of communication are open \ C'tin be says: "The senses themselves do not form ideas." We do not, milker can ' we, dream of what we possess no knowledge. But memory may, on the impression of a sen-c, recall to mind a fact or circumstance and the imagination may t ike it up and niuitip'y it into a thousand forms and invest them with an endless variety of fanciful cre ations, for Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain. Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain, Awake but one, and, lo! what myriads rise, Each stamps his other as the image flies." Dr. Parr says: "In dreams we seem to reason, to argue, to compose, and iu all these circumstances, during sleep, we are highly gratify d, and think we excel. If, however, we remember our dreams, our reasonings we find to be weak, our argu ments inconclusive, and our compositions trifling and absurd." The powerful intel lect will reason just as correctly when asleep, upon the premises given, as when awake; but uufortunaiely the data are iu many in stances iudistiuct aud erroneous when the uii&d is debarred the influence* of those means through which facts are presented, and the judgment regulated. The imper fiction of memory, also, in sleep, is a prolific source of error in regard to what the actual i powers of the mind are iu this condition. JUDGMENT IN DREAMS. Rut the power of judging is probably as good as when awake, for it decides only up on the premises presented in either eas*", and duiing sleep and in dreams the premises are u uaily scanty and at fault. When Dr. Johnson, in referring to a dream in which he had a contest of wit with another indi vidual -aid : "Now one may mark here the - flee: of sleep in wakening the power of re flecti.m; for, had not my judgment failed me, I should hare seen that the wit of this .-uppo-ed antagonist, by whose superiority | I Lit myself depressed, was as much furnisb j ed by uie as that which I thought I had been uttering in my own character." No doubt the error of judgment and weakening of the rcfl- etlve powers arose from a lack of all the c rerun stances in the ca-e being pre sent dt - fos mind. Certainly he has lost | identify, because in his dreams he furnished I argument for another person without com prehen-1 ing that he was doing so, and there fore, a ju-t conclusion could not be arrived et. Rut the feeling of chagrin or mortifiea tion which he experienced was a legitimate result of his judgment founded on the jrre mires. ACTION OF THE MIND IN DREAMS. The action of the mental organs will ac count for many of the singular associations during seep and in the language of the fair Poetess wdl show that "It is Thought at work amidst buried hours, it is Love keeping vigilo er perished flowers! Oh! we bear wuhiri us mysterious things, Ot Memory ami Anguish unfatbomed spring. And Passion, those gulfs of the heart to fill With bitter waves which it ue'er may still." 10 illustrate the as-nciatc action of the mind iu sleep we will transcribe the dream of Professor Mass, of Halle, aui his arraly.-i --oi its pheuotuena. The Professor says that "Idreamed once that the Pope visited me. lie commanded uie to open my desk, aui carefully examined all the papers it contain ed. While he was thus employed, a very sptikliog diamond fell out of his nipple crown into my de k, of which, however, u> ii her of us took any notice. As soon a.- ih Pope had withdrawn I retired to bed, hut was soon obliged to tiscon account ot a thick smoke, the cause of which 1 had yei to learn. Upon examination, I discovered that the diamond had set tire to the papers in mv desk, and burned them to a.-ihes." In explanation he observes, that "On the pre oeding evening I was visited by a friend, with whom I had a lively conversation up II Joseph the Second's su| pression of mon asteries and convents. \\ :th this idea, though I did not become conscious of it in the dream, was associated the visit which the Pupa publicly paid to the Emperor Jo seph at V tenna. in consequence of ihemeas ure taken against the clergy ; and with this again was combined, however faintlv. the representation of the visit which had been ■ -id to rue by tuy friend. These two events acre, by the sub reasoning faculty, conr joundtd into one, according to the e-tab iihed rule, that things which agree in their parts also correspond as to the whole, hence the Pope's visit was changed into a visit made to me. The sub-reasoning faculty ilien, in order t > account for the most ex trtoidii.ary visit, fixed upon that which wa tte most important object in my rooms, namely, the d sk, or rather the papers it eon tsined. That a diamond fell out of the triple crown was a collateral association, which was owing merely to the reprc-enta tion of the do k. Some dtys before, when opening the desk, I had broken the gla-s ol my watch, which I held in my hand, and the fragment fell among the papers, hence uofurther attention wa- paid to the dii itiond. But afterward the rcprc-entation ol the snark'ting stone was again excited, and became the prevailing idea, hence it dcter totu-d succeeding association. On account of its similarity, it excited the represents tion of fire, with which it was confounded, hence arose fire and smoke. But, in the event the writings only were burned, nor the de.-k it.-eif; to whieh being of compar atively less value, the attention was not at all directed." SHORTNESS OF TIME IN DREAMS. One of the most remarkable pi enomena connected with dreams is the shortness of time needed for their consnmatioD. Lira Brougham says '"'hat in dictating, a man may frequently fall asleep after uttering a lew words, and be awakened by the amanu ensis repeating the last word to show that he his written the whole; bnt though fiv or six s-conds only have escaped between the delivery of the sentence and its trans fer to paper, the speaker may have passed through a dream extending through half a Me tiin Lord II >lland and Mr. Babbage both confessed this theory. The one was li-tening to friend reading aloud, and lept from the beginning of the sentence to the latter part of the sentence immediately succeeding; yet during this time he had a dream, the particulars of which it would have taken more than a quarter of an hour to write. Mr. Babbage dreamed a succession of eveots, awoke in time to hear the con elusion of a friend's answer to a question be had just put to him. One man was liable to a feeling of suffocation accompanied by a dream of a skeleton graspine Ids throat whenever he slept in a lying position, and hoi tn attendant to wake him the moment he sank down. But though awakened, the moment he began to sink, the time sufficed for a long struggle wit mv feet should slip and precipitate me down she dark chasm beneath. After re fleeting long upon my perilous situation, I commenced feeling around the platform surrounding the top, and finally succeeded in fastening my fingers in a crevice between the planks, by which means I drew myself up. The dream ordinarily would have • uded here, but my mind now turned upon the subject which had occupied my attention the preceding evening until a late hour. 1 hought in my dreams that what had just ■ranspired was a prophetic dream, and to what it might point my reflections were di rected, as to what would be the best course to elude the impending danger. During these reflections I awoke excessively ex hausted. In this instance, in a dream, I dreamed that 1 was dreaming. It was a singular mental phenomenon, and of rare occurrence, but not alone on record. CHARGING THE JURY.—A Dutch judge ! io the Western country presided at a trail for murder, and Ton rising to deliver the charge, observed that the prisoner wa* playing chequers with his cusstodian, while the foreman of the jury was fast asleep. De plenishing the ample judical chair with his broadcast person, he thus addressed the jury : 'Mister voreman and t'oder jurymans, der brisoner, Hans Vickter, is finished his game u.it der Sheriff, and has peat him, but I shall dake care he don't peat me, Hans has been tried for murder before you, and you must pring in der vardick, but it must be cording to der law. De man ain't kilt at all. as was proved he was in jail for sheep stealing. But dat ish no madder. Der law says vender ish a tou't you give 'em to der brisoner, but der ish no tou't— so you see der brisoner ish guilty. Pcrsides. he ish a great loafer, I haf kno'd bitn vivty year, and he hasn't tone a atitch of work in all dat dimes, and der is no one depending upon him for deir livin', and he is no use to no boty. 1 dink it would be a good plans to hang (or the example. I dink Mr. Fore i man's, dat he better be hung next fourt' : of July, as der militia ish going to drain io anoder county, and dere 'll be DO fun goin' I on here.' MEN' often go into business as though they had the most implicit faith that God ! in some way would prosper laziness. VOL. 12: XO 40. FOILED BY A WOMAN. "Madame, it is my duty to arrest you ?" "You dare not!" The lips were white with passion rather than fear, and the lady stood before me like a lione.-s at bay. Even then I could not help but note the splendid beauty of this grand lady. Tall and slender, eyes black and flashing; almost lurid now, the specta cle she presented, standing there in the middle of the apartment, was more the appearanec of a queen than a haunted crirui nal. "I must," I replied; "I do not doubt your innocence. Looking into your face, it is strange ihat any one could couple it with guilr; but lam constrained to do my duty; Madame, however inimical it may be to my feelings." "Will you allow me to change my dre6s?" she said, in a tone almost pleasant. The hard lines around her mouth had relaxed, and tie passionate glow on the face gave way to a pleasant smile. "Certainly, I will wait for you here." "I wish also to send a message for a friend ; will you permit bins to pass ?" •'Certainly." This was my first interview with Eugenia C'ornille. I had seen her here for months, the leader of our gayest and most fashiona ble society. In her splendid mansion she dispensed with the most profuse and ele gant hospitality. A Spanish Lady—a widow she had repre sented herself, and had been a resident here almost a year. No one ever suspected hei of being aught than what she seemed, until one day I was otdered to arrest her as a murderess. It was now alleged, said Mr. F., that this lieauty was no other than the woman who had poisoned her husband in Havana, and tied with all his wealth. An immense re ward was offered lor her apprehension, and the circumstances that had come to our knowledge pointed her out beyond all doubt as the person we were in search of. Yet the person who recognized her the evening before at the theatre advised us to be care ful lest she should escape us. I laughed at the idea. Mr. I. and myself were surely sufficient to arrest a lady. We were old enough in the wavs of cunning to defeat au> ruch attempt. When the lady left me I stepped to the window, and said to Mr. L, who was waiting at the door: "The lady desires to send a messenger for a friend; suffer him to pass." Almost at the same instant, the door o' the apartment opened, and a youth, appa rently a mulatto boy, came out and passed hurriedly through the room into the hall, and from thence into the street. It was, n> doubt, the messenger, I thought, and I picked up a book and commenced reading. Nearly an hoar passed, and still the lady lid not make her appearance, nor did thi boy return. The friend she sent for must live at some distance, I thought, or the lad> is unusually careful about her toilet, and so another hour went by. At last I grew irn P*ftpnt. IrTtftckrftt] at tla© door. "Madame, I can wait no longer." There was no reply. I knocked repeat y, and at last determined to force an en < ranee. Strange fears harrassed me. I be gan to suspect, I know not what. It took but a moment to drive in the door, and. iince in the room, the mystery was revealed. The robes of the lady lay upon the floor ; scattered over the floor were suits of boys' wearing apparel, similar to that worn by the mulatto boy. On the table was a cosmetic that would stain the skin to a light delicate brown. I was foiled, for a surety. The lady escaped in the disguise of the messen ger. I should have detected the ruse; I t'elt humiliated, and determined to redress my error. I knew she would not remain in the city an instant longer than she could get away. I hurried to her bankers, but found that she had drawn the amount due her an hour before. "Who presented the check ?" I asked of ihe clerk. "A mulatto boy. It was made payable to bearer." There was yet a chance. The French steamer left within an hour. It was possi ble she would seek that means of escape. I jumped in a cab and arrived there ten minutes before she left the wharf—just in time to assist an aged, decrepit gentleman into the cabin. There were a few passen gers ; none of them answered the description of the person I sought. I stood on the wharf watching the receding vessel until it disappeared. I was in the act of turning away when a hackman approached me with the remark: "Mr. F., did you see that old man on board ? lie had a long white beard, and hair that fell on his shoulders." "Yes." "Well, there's something curious about him." "Why?" "Why, sir, when he got into my carriage be was a mulatto boy, and when he got out he was an old man !" I will not repeat the expression I used then—it was neither reflned nor polite, for I knew the vessel would be far out to sea bfore she could be overtaken. I was foiled by a woman. Nor could I help rejoicing, now that the chase was over, that she bad escaped. Innocent or guilty, there was a charm abtui larnne could resist. Th -pe'ndor of her wondrous beauty affected all who ap proaehed her. It lingers in my memory yet, and I could not have the sin of her blood upon my conscience. THE LITTLE ONES.—DO you ever think what work a child does in a day ? How, from sunrise to sunset, the dear little feet patter around —to us —so aimlessly ; climb ing op here, kneeling down there, running to another place, but never still, twisting and turning, rolling and reaching, and doubling, as if testing every bone and muscle for their future uses. It is very curious to watch it. One who does so may well and easily under stand the deep breaihiDg of the little sleep er, as, with one arm tossed over its curly head, it prepares for next days gymnastics. A busy creature is a little child. "Sir: BBS," said one of his debtors, isn't it about time you paid me that little bill? "My dear sir," was the consoling reply, it is not a question of time, it is a question of money." A pupil in declamation, having keen told to gesticulate accordding to the sense, in commencing a piece with "The comet lifts its fiery tail," innooentiy lifted iho tail of his coat, and looked aroand for applause. SUBSCRIPTION TERKB, &C The Is peULlwdetry Friisav morn •ag be following ratal.: O*E TEAR, (in advance,) $2.00 " " iii not paid witbin sis mos.}„ $2.50 " (if not paid within the year,)... SS.W All papers ontrideof the county discontinued without notice, at the expiration of the time for which the aabtseription has been paid. bingieeopiesof the pnperfarnished, in srrapr.ers it five centa each. C-iuicuDicatio.n on anbjeeU of local or genera) oterest, are respectfully solicited. To ensure ait caution favors of this hind must invariably be accompanied by the name of the author, not for publication, but as a guaranty against imposition. Ail Setter* pertaining to buin