RATES OF ADVERTISING. All advertisements fur leu then 3 months 19 cents per line for each insertion. Specie Inolieet oro-helf addition*!. All resolutions of Associa tions, communications of a limited or isdiridal interest and notices of marriages and deaths, ex ceeding fire lines, 19 ets. per line. All legal noti ces of every kind, and all Orphans' Court and othet Judicial rales, are required by law to be pub lished U both paacrs. Editorial Notices 13 cents per lino. Ail Advertising due afterfirst insertion. A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers. 3 moots. 8 months, 1 year One square.. * 4.50 $ 6.C0 $10.06 Twe squares - 6.09 9.09 16.00 Three squares...,. 8.00 11.00 30.00 One-fourth coluttn 14.00 20.00 33.00 Half column 18.00 23,00 43.00 One column 30.00 43.00 80.00 NBWSPBPBB LAWS. —We would call the special attention of Post Masters and subscribers to the LxqcißK to the following synopsis of the Kews papet laws: 1. A Postmaster is required to give notice by .etttr, (returning a paper docs not answer the law) when a subscriber does not take his paper ont of the office, and state the reasons tor its nut being taken; and a neglect to do so makes the Postmas ter rtpeoneible to the publishers lor the payment 2. Any person who takes a paper from the Post office, a aether directed to his name or another, or whether be has subscribed or not is responsible for the pay. 3. If ape.-son orders his paper discontinued, he must pay all arrearages, or the publisher may continue to send it until payment Is made, and ollect the whole amount, whether it be taken from the office or not. There dan be no iegul discontin uance until the payment is made. 4. If tbe subscriber order* his paper to be stopped at B certain time, and tbe publisher con tinues to send, the subscriber is bound to pay for it, i/ he take* '< out of the. Poet Office. The law proceeds upon tbe grout d that a man mast pay for what he uses. 3. The courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers and periodicals from the Post office, or removing and bavin;; them uncalled for, is prima facia evidence of intentional fraud. * tyusiutitis (farll SCKL L\ N K OPS. TACOB BKKNNEMAN. WOODBERRY, PA., SCRIVENER, CONVEYANCER, LICENSED CLAIM AGENT, Mid Ex-Officio JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, Will attend to allbn.inesa entrusted into his hands with promptness and despatch. Will remit mon ey V.y draft to any part ef the country. ITsely DANIEL BORDER, PITT STREET, TWO I>OORS WEST or THE ED roBD EOTET, BESFOBP, PA. WATCHMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL RY. SPECTACLES, AC. Be keeps on b r ud a stock of fine Gold and Sil ver Watches, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Refin ed Glasses, also Scotch Pebble Glasses. Gold Watch Chains, Breast Pins, Finger Rings, best quality of Gold Pens. He will supply to order any thing in his line not on hand. [spr.2B,'Bs. J) R. J. ROSS ANDERSON, Respectfully tenders his profest onal services to the citixens of Bedford and vicinity. Office three doors East of the Bedford House. .It 0" Night calls attended to with promptness. Apri! 8, 1878-tf n N. HIC K OK, DENTIST. Office at the old stand in BARK BCII-DIXO, Juliana St.. BEDFORD. AU operations pertaining to Surgical and Af echanica I Dtntutry performed with care and WARRANTED. Anceetketict adminiriered, when derived. Ar tificial teeth inserted at, per tet, 98.00 and up. tcard. AT I am deteimined to do a CASH BUSINESS or none, I have reduced the prices for Artificial Tee'h of the various kinds, 20 per cent., and of Gold Fillings 33 per cent. This redaction will be made only to strictly Cash Patients, and all such will receive prompt attentiou. 7febfiß WM. LLOYD BANKER. Transacts a General Banking Business, and makes collections on all accessible points ia the United States. GOVERNMENT SECURITIES. GOLD, SIL VER, STERLING and CONTINENTAL EXCHANGE bought and sold. U.S. REVENUE STAMPS of all deeoriptione always on band. Accounts of Merchants, Mechanics, Farmers AND all other solicited. INTEREST ALLOWED ON TIME DEPOSITS. Ja. f, '7#. MARRLAGE CERTIFCATES.—On hand and for sale at the INQUIRER office, a fine assort moot of Marriage Certificates. Clergymen and JuiUeea thou'd Lure tbem. Wbt IBcMorb 3humirtr. L.UTZ & JORDAN, Editors and Proprietors. gnquim Column, rpo ADVERTISERS: THE BEDFORD INQUIRER. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY L U T Z A JORDAN, OFFICE ON JULIANA STREET, BEDFORD, PA. THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM IN SOUTH■ WESTERN rENNS YL VAN IA. CIRCULATION OVER 1500. HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE MENTS INSERTED ON REA SONABLE TERMS. A FIRST CLASS NEWS TAPER. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION: $2,00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. JOB PRINTING: ALL KINDS OF JOB WORK DONE wrrn NEATNESS AND DISPATCH, AND IN THE LATEST & MOST APPROVED STYLE, SUCIIAB POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIRCULARS, BUSINESS CARDT WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS. BALL TICKETS, PROGRAMMES, CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS, SSGAR LABELS, RECEIPTS, LEGAL BLANKS, PHOTO JRAPHER'S CARDS, BILL HEADS, LETTER HEADS, PAMPHLETS, PAPER BOOKS, ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC Our facilities for doing ell kinds of Job Printing are equalled by very few establishments in the country. Order* by mail promptly filled. AO letters should be addressed to LUTZ A JORDAN. 3 Joral anU ffirnttaf jlrtospaprr, Srtotrfc to riolitirs, ghucation, literature anh fHorals ITEMS. THE cotton crop or last year Is estimated | at 3,000,000 bales. LOUISIANA owes $14,000,000. The annual J interest on the bonds "nominally outstand j ing" is stated to be $044,000. I A CLERGYMAN consoling a young widow | on the death of her husband, remarked that she could not find his equal. "I don't know about that," remarked the sobbing fair one; "but I'll try." TIIE effect of the Fifteenth Amendment was focibly shown in Holland, Michigan, at the recent municipal election in that place. The town has Lut two ooloted rotors, yet they were sufficient to change its political complexion and elect the Republcan ticket by a majority of one. A SPECIAL cable dispatch says that the conspiracy discovered in Paris is more seri ous than was at first supposed. A largo supply of bombs had been provided and was seized by the police. The principal ring leaders b:i.ve not yot unJ the anxiety of the Government and citizens is intense. The strictest surveillance is eve ry where maintained, and the Tuiileries are carefully guarded. Orders hare been issued to the police to arrest all speakers who in sult the Imperial family or Constitution of France. FROM ALTOOXA TO IIARRISBURG WITHOUT STOPPING.— The Pacifiic Express train, on the Pennsylvania Central railroad, ran yes terday from Altoona to llarrisburg without stopping, and also from llarrisburg to Phil adelphia. This is the greatest distance ever I traveled in this country by a locomotive without taking, fuel or water. Owing to the great competition on the New Y'ork roads for the travel to the West, the Penn sylvania railroad has determined not to be behind, and now beats all competitors in ! time aud accommodations. When the train ' arrived in this city, from Altoona, the loco- ' motive had sufficient water in the tank to j run with perfect safety. — llarrixbnrg Trie graph. A PUBLIC sale of a lot of images, vases and water- : ars, made by the Aztec Indians i and imported from Mexico, receutly took place in San Francisco. Many of the vases ! resembled in style and ornamental finish j those found in Egypt. The groups of ban ditti, muleteers, beggars orange girls, drun ken men and women, and images of Maxi milian, Miramom and others are said to have been true to the life. All were of fine clay, and were made without the assistance of tools. WHAT BECOMES OF OLD SHOES.—Cos mos answers this question by stating that they arc cut up into small pieces, end these arc put for a few days in chloride of'sulphur which makes the leather very hard and brit tle. After this is effected tbe material is washed with water, dried, ground to pow der and mixed with some substance which makes the par'icles adhere together, a.sshel laek, good glue, or thick solution of gum It is then pressed into moulds, and shaped into combs, buttons, knife handles, and many oter articles. DON'T WHIP A FRIGHTENED IIOR.SE Never whip your horse for becoming fright ened at anv object by the road side ; for if he sees a stump, a log or a heop of tanbark in the road, and while he is eyeing it care fully, and about to pass it you strike him with the whip, it is tbe log, or stump or the bark that has hurt him in his reason ing and the next time he will be more fright ened. Give liiur time to examine and smell of all these objects, and use tbe war bridle to assist you in bringing him carefully to these objects of fear. Bring all objects, if possible, to his nose, and let him smell of them, and then you can commence to gen tly use him with them. To CLEAR PAINT.—The Coacbmakers' Journal recommends bouse wives to save themselves trouble by adopting the follow ing mode: —Provide a plate with some of the bcßt whiting to be had, and have ready some clean, warm water and a piece of flan nel, which dip into the water and squeeze nearly dry, then take as much whiting as will adhere to it, apply it to the painted sur face, when a little rubbing will instantly re move any dirt or grease. After which, wash the part well with clean water, rubbing it dry with a soft chamois. Paint thus cleaned looks as well as when first laid on, without any injury to the most delicate colors. It is far better than using soap, and does not re quire more than half the time and labor. WASHINGTON, April 28.— 1t is a matter of great doubt whether General Grant's ea ger desire for an interoceanic canal across the Daricn Isthmus Will be fully realized, as the numerous reports, both of official and private nature, from the Government sur veying expedition now there are not very encouraging. It is considered by many that the best course to pursue will be for the United Stacs to aid a New York company, with Marshall O. Roberts at its head, which has a conces sion from the Mexican Government for a ca nal across the Tehuao.e(jec route, but it is \ also a matter of doubt whether the Govern- ] moot would be willing to dividp the honors of such an undertaking with a private com pany. The great objection to this route has been a sand bar in front of the outlet into tho Gulf of Mexico, on which there wag only about thirteen feet of water. It has, how ever, been ascertained that below the bar is the muddy bottom of the harbor, and expe rienced navigators, including Admiral Por ter, are of opinion that the sand bar can be removed by digging. IN boring an artesian well at St. Louis, to a deph of 3,8431 feet, a curious circum stance in connection with the tempcretare was noted. The thermometer, which at 3,000 feet registered 106 deg. F., fell when that depth was passed, marking but 105 dcg. at 3.500 feet. THE DEVIL'S HARVEST. —Carefully com piled statistics show that 600,000 lives are annually destroyed by intemperance lb the United States. 1,000,000 men and women are yearly sent to prison in consequence of strong drink. 20.000 children are yearly sent to the poor house for the same reason. 300 murders are auother of the yearly fruits of intemperance. 400 suicides follow in this fearful cata louge of miseries. 200,000 orphans are bequeathed each year to the public and private charity. $200,000,000 are ycurly expended to pro duce this shocking amount of crime and misery, and as much more is lost in lime wasted from the same cause. BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY. MAY 13. 1870. gtortni. TRUE HEROISM. BY GRANT r. ROBINSON. Let others write of battles fought On bloody, ghastly fields, W'here honor greets the man who wios, And death ttie man who yeildi; But I will write of him who fights Aud vanquishes his sing, Who struggles on through weary years, Against himself, and wins. lie is a hero staunch and brave, Who fights an unseen foe, And puts at last baneath his feet Ilis passions base and low, And stands erect in manhood's might, Undaunted, undismayed— The bravest man that drew a sword la foray or in raid. It calls for something more than brawn Or muscle o'ercome An cnwmy wkn mmrebeth not With banner, plume, and drum— A foe forever lurking nigh, With silent, stealthy tread, Forever near your board by day, At night beside your bed. All honor, then, to that brave heart, Though poor or rich he be, Who struggles with bis baser part— Who conquers, and is free. He may not wear a hero's crown, Or fill a hero's grave ; But truth will place his name among The bravest of the brave, —Phrenological Journal. .NIG. IT-I'ALL. Slowly, slowly up the wail Steals the sunshine, steals the shade ; Evening damps begin to fall, Evening shadows are displayed. Round me, o'er me, everywhere, All the sky is grand with clouds, And athwart the evening air Wheel the swallows home in clouds. Shafts of sunshine from the west Paint the dusky windows red ; Darker shadows, deeper rest, Underneath, and overhead. Darker, darker, and more wan In my breast the shadows fall; Upward steals the lift of man As the sunshine from the wall. From the wall into the sky, From the roof along the spire ; Ah, the souls of those that die Are but sunbeams lifted higher —Longfellow. piiSwUanttmui. MERELY A MENIAL. "You arc altogether too harsh, Cornelia, in your mode of treating Laura Lyon since she became a member of our family. The poor girl has more than once noticed, I am very certain, your haughty, supercilious be havior." "Let her notice it, mamma," was Corne lia Stanhope's 6corofully-spokenl answer, while the young lady's handsome dark ores flashed imperiously enough. "For my pirrt, I find it quite impossible to restrain my dislike for that girl. As for her being a member of our family, I must say, insm ma, that I decidedly object to her being called anything of tbe sort. She is depen dent upon our kindness—an orphan to whom we have charitably given shelter—nothing more." "But she is jour cousin, Cornelia—the child of your dead father's dead sister." "Who made a horribly low marriage, by the way," retorted the young lady, "if re- ' port speak correctly. It is useless for you to scold me, mamma, about my manner of' conducting myself toward Laura. Between I ourselves, I think it very probable that I i shall treat hci much worse before I tfeat i her much better. She is an out-and-out nuisance." "You arc shockingly wicked to call her so," exclaimed Mrs. Stanhope, who, though what is termed a weak woman, was now and then given to transitory fits of strong-mind edness in her mode of defending those she loved. "There is nothing which you have asked Laura to do since her arrival in the house that she has refused, or even hesita ted " "Nonsense, mamma; I know what you are going to say 1" Miss Stanhope broke in. "Of course, Laura has arranged my hair for the opera and for balls whenever I have asked her. She Las also done several oth or menial services. I don't know that I am particularly obliged to her for perform ing them. She is certainly well-fed and clothed at the household expense; and she should consider our kindness in thus feed ing and cloth'ng her, ample payment for the slight favors which are required at her ! hands. And now, please, discontinue this argument on the subject of Laura. Apro pos of the opera, Lord Ellcry has sent word to know whether you and I desired to occu py bis box this evening, I immediately wrote an acceptance in reply to the note, feeling sure that you would like to see 'Fouse' once again." "Will he accompany us?" A faint tinge of color stole in Cornelia Stanhope's olive check. "Of course, mam ma," she answered. "I suppose so,' Mrs. Stanhope said. "Do you know. Cornelia, that I considered the attentions of Lord Ellery most marked and devoted toward yourself?" "Do yon, mamma?"—a short nervous laugh followed the words. "His father, the Marquis of Fancourt, is very rich, is he not?" "Worth two hundred thousand a year, I believe." "And you would marry him—if he asked I you, Cornelia?" The young lady bit her lip. The sen ! tence, "if he asked you," grated very disa -1 greeably upon her ear. During the past | two or three weeks, it had grown the ruling purpose of Cornelia Stanhope's thoughts to ' become the wife of Viscount Ellery, She ; bad resolved that no amount of stern, stead | fast endeavor should be lacking, on ber j part, in the matter of attaining this object i It is, indeed very probable that she had not ' yet fully satisfied herself as to whether love ' for Lord Ellery formed even a slight motive of her present course of action, ba it is al together SUTC that she was aware how domi nant a motive wordly interest formed. "How do you know that he has not al ready asked me, mamma?" she said, in an swer to her mother's question. "He calls here very often, and you seldom interfere with our tete-a-tetes." Then Cornelia gave a musical little laugh, that left her mother in doubt as to whether she was serious or in fun, and disappeared very abruptly from the room. But the truth was that she only hoped the viscount would propose; he really had not done so as yet. Meanwhile, on tlic afternoon of this con versation between mother and daughter, pretty blonde-hairei Laura Lyon sat in her small, out of the way chamber, on the third floor of Mrs. Stanhope's residence and won dered what special reason Providence had for sending her into the world, and why, since she seemed to Lave been created to be snubbed, and despised, and trampled on. it would not be much better if her thoroughly useless existence came to a close altogether. These were very wicked thoughts, of course; but then poor Laura, who had known a life far different from her present one, was excusable, perhaps, for thinking them. liar, bad, indeed, been a life of quiet, do mestic happiness, until that dark eighteenth year, in which death followed upon death with such fearful suddenness, and she was made an orphan almost before she had com prehended the bitter fact. Then had come the knowledge of her father's insolvent con dition and her own utter pennilessness. Silently to herself—while she looked that afternoon upon the anowy pavements of the i streets beneath her, aad felt the cold of a rapidly-strengthening December wind sweep j past tbe panes, and chill them more and more with every gust—silently to herself, I ; say, did Liura Lyon recall the handsome, genteel face of one whom she had kuown and loved four years ago. It was the old story. They had sworn very passionate vows"to each other; but the course of true love had run roughly, indeed, and her fath er, unwilling that Laura should become the wife of a poor man, had forbidden their meetings. And at last the lover had re solved to go and fight the world; and a final stolen meeting bad taken place between them, and he went to India, and—so it had ail ended. If he bad ever written to her, Laura had not received his letters. Quite lost in her sad thoughts, she let the day slowly darken until it had left her little fttow completely in shadow. At last a servant knocked at the door, saying, "Dinner is served, Miss Lyon and Laura presently descended to the dinning room. Mrs. Stanhope and her daughter were already seated at the table when their rela tive entered the room. The latter's face, Laura could not help observing, wore a sort of angry scowl. Miss Stanhope soon gave vocal proof that she was annoyed. "Laura," she exclaimed. "You have a horrid habit of coming down to dinner. You almost always enter the dining room after soup has been served. Perhaps you would be able to appear more punctually if we rang several peals of a huge bell." Laura volunteered no response, under standing how useless such a course would prove. She seated herself, and, with the exception of a few words to Mrs. Stanhope to excuse her, received that lady's acquies cence, and left the dining room. She knew that her calm, patient silence had in no manner shamed or humbled the haughty, supercilious nature of her cousin Cornelia. She knew that nothing could ever change that cousin's contemptuous, cruel treatment—nothing, except cither her own absence, or that of Cornelia, from Mrs- Stanhope's house. It was very hard, poor Laura tearfully meditated, being called upon almost daily and hourly to bear the covert sneers and scoffs of one she felt to be her moral inferior. How a pair of manly blue eyes, that she had once known and loved to gaze upon, would have flushed with indig nation, in the old days of courtship, bad she told that brave lover of hers any stosy of injustice and insolence like that which she could now tell. "Oh, let me bid good bye to all hopeless longings," the girl at leDgth murmcred. "He can not know— he is far, far away—be has, perhaps, forgot " She somehow could not tell herself that be had forgotten her. And so she sat in her little chamber, and dreamed that he loved her still very, very dearly, and that they would one day meet. Again there came a knock at the door. This time a servant said, "Miss Cornelia wishes, Miss Lyon, that you will please come down stairs and arrange her hair for the opera this evening." Five minutes later, Laura stood meekly behind her cousin's chair, arranging Corne lia's glossy tresses as somehow only her nimble fingers could arrange them. This work performed, in countless minor details of her toilet Cornelia did not hesitate un blushingly to ask Laura's taste and assist ance. "You really would make a capital maid," Miss Stanhope remarked, as she surveyed her costume in an opposite mirror, bring now thoroughly dressed for the opera. "Marie," glancing toward her French /em me de cKambre, "will have to look out for her laurels. Here, Liura, just carry my white merino cloak down stairs, won't you, while I follow ! I want you to pull out the folds of my dress when 1 reach the diniDg roorn, so that these flounces may not look tumbled as I receive Viscount Ellery." "Certainly," Laura said, receiving the cloak which her cous n offered. Miss Stanhope and ber cousin had been i in the dining room about five minutes, when j the former glanced impatiently toward a ; clock on the mantle, exclaiming, "It cer j tainly is very o3d that Lord Ellery doesn't make his appearance. He ought undoubt edly to be here by five minutes to eight o'- clock; besides, 'Faust' is my fur orate opera, and I don't want to miss a note of it. Mam ma"—to her mother, who bad just entered •—"isn't it strange that Irtrd Ellery is so late ?" Just as Cornelia finished speaking a doub le knock sounded at the front door. "That is he!" exclaimed the young lady. "I am so glad." Then, after about three minutes had elapsed, and the knock had again souoded. "What is the reason, mam ma that our door is not better attended to? The idea of Lord Ellery being obliged to knock twice ! It is perfectly scandalous." "I sent Robert on an erraod just after dinner," Sirs. Stanhope began, "and " "Oh, of course," snapped Miss Cornelia; j then, turning sharply toward her cousin, "Laura, go the door." But Laura Lyon stood as still as a statue. "Do you hear me, Laura?" exclaimed Miss Stanhope. "Perfectly," was the calm response. "I told you to go to the door." "I know it." "You mean to disobey me, I suppose, im pertinent creature.' "Cornelia!" interposed her mother's pleading voice. "Once again, Laura Lyon, I order you to answer tha knock." "Is my positico in this house no batter, Cornelia, than that of a servant?" Laura spoke the words in tones which a faint, almost imperceptible, quiver shook ; otherwise her demeanor was perfectly calm. "No," was the unhesitating answer. "You are merely a menial—nothing more." "Y r ery well; in that case, I wiil obey or ders." She left the room with a steady step though her wounded heart was beating pas sionately, rebelliously, in her bosom. With a steady hand, too, she unfastened tbe hall door. A gentleman was standing outside. "Are Mrs. and Miss Stanhope at home?" he asked, politely. And his voice made poor Laura's heart beat quicker than ever. "Runost," •!> mU no* help nwmw ing, " can it be you?" "Laura! ' The gentleman had caught her hands in both of his, and was gating eager ly upon her face. "Ob, Laura," he went on, in tremulous tones, "what miracle is this? I have sought for you ever since my return from India, but to no purpose. At tbe bouse where you formerly lived they know nothing of you. And now to find you here, in Cornelia Stanhope's house! lean scarcely believe my senses I" "You oould not hare cred much for me, Ernest Dale," poor said, through her tears, "because—because you have nev er written me a line since—since " "Written you, Laura? I wrote no less j than four times." "Then the letters miscarried, Ernest, for I never " "For heaven's sake, Lord EUery. what is the meaning of all this? 1 was not aware that you knew my cousin, Laura Lyon," Cornelia Stanbo|>e spoke, standing on the threshold of the dining-room door, her faoe a picture of consternation. Laura was not a bit awed by her cousin just then, however. "Ellcry!" she exclaimed, tuning toward her old lover. "'What does this mean, Ern est ? Your name is " "Dale just the same, darling, as the family name ; but Ellery is my title. The recent death of my unmarried uncle sudden ly made my father a marquis, and me, con sequently, a viscount. Riches came to us, also, unexpectedly at the same time, and by the same incident." "And so Cornelia's grand Viscount El lery was all the while my own dear Ernest?" Laura said, quite oblivious of her cousin's presence. " Y'es, darling," Lord Ellery said ; "and I am sure that you cousin Cornelia will con gratulate me on having found my long-lust sweet-heart." Did Cornelia Stanhope congratulate her cousin ? She was obliged to do so at Laura and the Viscount's wedding, a month later. But there are some smiles that mean frowns —some blessings that mask curses. SETTLING PROPERTY ON A WIFE. When men arc prosperous, and are mak ing money, and consider themselves rich, I wonder that it so seldom comes home to them that they are liable to reverses, which shall plunge their families into the utmost pecuniary distress. Men know that busi ness is subject to fluctuations, and '.bat nothing is more frequent than that men should in one year have all the comforts and advantages of wealth, and the next year be stripped bare. But a vicious hopefulness prevent* them from realizing that they shall ever be subject to this fate which befall others. Men expect to live; they do not anticipate bankruptcy. When times change, and the pinch comes, it is too late for them to make provision for the family. The wife, the chil dren, the whole household, are suddenly plunged into distress. Indeed, much as the business man suffers for himself, his own pangs are the least part of the suffering. I have lived long enough to see the over throw of a great maDy families because the father, believing that be should live and al ways keep them in comfortable circumstan ces, had neglected to make an independent provision for them. At the man's death the estate proves either insolvent or is reduced to a minimum. The wife, not trained to business, is obliged to settle the estate by agents. What with unskillful management, carelessness or even sometimes deliberate fraud, the residum melts in her hands, and the widow, with five or six young children to be fed, clothed and educated, finds herself alone and penni less! Habits cannot be changed in a day. She lias not been trained to business. She may have been a good housekeeper, but now she must earn money, which is a very different thing from ordering a household skillfully. Some, utterly overmatched break down under the trial, and the children arc scattered, like young partridges, whose mother the hawk has devoured. I believe it to be the duty of every man who is prosperous, out of deft, and making money, to settle upon his wife a certain amount of property, which shall not be ef fected by either his bankruptcy orhia death. This may be done by a life insurance—es pecially if it be a policy which is not forfeited by Deglect of payment. But a still better way is to settle upon the wife a good house and the furniture. Then, if misfortune comes, the man will still have a home. He will be secure at the root, and may begia again with some hope. If death takes away | the father, the nest remains. The children i do not need to be scattered. Some persons have questioned whether a ! scrupulous honesty would allow one to hold back from creditors any part of a husband's property. A settlement of property on another, while debt hangs over it, either for the sake of avoiding payment of debt, or ol securing the family, would be fraudulent, dishonest, and wicked. But if, while clear ed of debt, the husband settles property on his wife for the just maintenance of herself and children, his after debts hare no more claim upon that property than if he had sold and transferred it to a neighbor instead of to his own wife. No man has a right to leave a family whom he has accustomed to afflu ence liable to sudden and wasting poverty. A provision made betimes, in property, for the safety of his family in the case of death or bankruptcy, may be aocepted and em ployed, by the most sensitive conscience. 1 write strongly on this subject, because I have seen so much distress arising from the want of this precaution. — Henry Ward I Beecher. VOL.. 43i NO 19. A FISHERMAN'S STORY. ANGLING FOR A DOG. Wo were traveling on ground we had no right 08. The only excuse was like that of a military necessity—it was far better fish ing tbiough the farms where the trout had been preserved, than in open lota where ail could fish. It was early in the morning. We had risen at three, ridden ten miles and struck tbe creek as the trout were ready for break fast. Looking carefully for a sheltered plaee to hitch our horses, we slyly crept on be hind fences, etc., till we reached the part oi the stream not generally fished. A farm house stood not a quarter of a mile away. We saw the morning smoke curliog lightly from a stove-pipe; saw a man and two boys come out to do chores; saw a woman busy about the door, and a ferocious bull-dog wandering about the yard. If ever we fished close it was then. Not a whisper to disturb the birds or the owners lof the tmird. Wc through (V. (mw and dodged behind clumps of alders, lifting large speckled beauties out of Ibe water un til our baskets were full. This was the time to have gone; but tbe trout were so large and bit so readily that we decided to string and hide what we bad, and take another basketful. So at it we vent. No sooner would the hook touch the water than it had a trout We forgot the bouse, tbe man, the boys and tbe dog. Suddenly there was a rushing through an oat field as if a mad bull was coming. We looked toward the house, end saw the farm er and his two boys on a fence, the woman in the door, and the dog bounding toward us. We saw it all—we had been discovered! The well trained dog had been sent to hunt us out, and, as the matter appeared, it was safe to bet that he was doing that, thing right lively. To outrun tbe dog was not to be thought of. There was no time to lose. He cleared a fence and came for us just as we reached a tree, and by great activity took a front seat on a limb above his reach. Here was a precious go 1 A vicious bull dog under the tree, and the farmer and two big boys ready to move down upon our works. It was fiigbf, foot race, or fangs. Tbe farmer yelled to his dog, "Watch him, Tige!" Tige proposed to do that little thing, and keeping his eyes upon us, seated himself under the tree. Then spoke this ugly farmer man : "Just hold on thar, stranger, till we get breakfist; then wc will come and see you 1 If you are in a hurry, however, you can go now! Watch him, Tige!" We surmised trouble; quite too much, for thrice had that bold man of bull dogs and agriculture elegantly walloped innocent tourists for being seen on his suburban premises. His reputation as a peace man was not good and there arose a large heart toward our throat. is the essence of contracts, and the saving ordinance of those vn trouble. We had a stout line in our pocket, and a large hook intended for rock bass, if we failed to take trout. And as good luck would have it we had got a nice sandwich and a piece of boiled corn beef in our other pocket. We called the dog pet names, but he wasn't on it! Then wc tried to move down, when he moved up ! At last we trebled our bass line, fastened the limerick to it, baited it with the corn beef, tied the end of the line to a limb, and angled for a dog! Tige was in appetite. He swallowed it, and sat with his eyes on us for more; but with no friendly look beaming from his countenance. Not any! Then he pulled gently on the line—it was fast! Tige yanked and pulled; bat 'twas of no use! We quickly slid down the tree—almost blistering our back doing it—seized our pole, and straightway went thence somewhat lively. We found our string of fish, and reached the buggy and a commanding spot in the road it. time to sec the sturdy yeoman move forth. We saw him and bis cohorts, male snd female, move slowly, as if in no haste. We saw them look up the tree. kl e saw an anxious crowd engaged about the dog. \N e came quickly home and kindiy left the bass line and hook to the farmer. LABOK A NECESMT*. We are in this world to do. Did ever peo ple realize this—that we were put here to act? The curse put upon Adam effects us all—we must all work in some way. Idle ness is rust, deterioration is death; it is de fearing God's purpose; shirking one's du ly. We are made to work; eveiything in dicates this—our heads, our feet, our brain, our necessities, our enjoyments all point to the first great intent, labor. So the bee toils, the birds to perpetrate their specie.- provide, their food, to sing, to sit still, only to rest. Labor is motion. The whole world is motiort. That which is most active is the most healthy and enjoyable. S'agnant water is foul; living" water pure. So with the air; so with the man, pre eminently. Ah, what health comes from action! what strength ! what beauty!—beauty of expres sion, agility, and the power to pl-a-c and delight. This is what we want—we want it everywhere. We want it, mark you, not over done. We want it as God ordered it, according to human progress—not to exhaust and injure the body, and at the same time the mind as well, to say nothing of the most important of all, the morals for which we are all made. Work mentally, morally, physic ally; exercise the body, the mind, aod the affections; that is their cultivation. But do not strain thein, and thus hurt them; avoid extremes. It is as bad to be too active as too lazy. Act, then, as the wind acts, the brook flows, the stars cour>e. Here there is no clash, no hurt. — Ex. THE HUM A* BODY.—The musdrs ofihe human jaw exert a force of 534 lbs. The quantity of pure water which b'ood contains in its natural state is rery great, it amounts almost seren eighths. Kt> 1 estimates the surface of the lungs at 150 square feet, or ten times that of the external body. The blood is a fifth the weight of the body, i A ' man is taller in the moraine than at night to the extent of half an inch or more, owing to the relaxation of the cartilages. There is iron enough in the blood of forty-two men to make a ploughshare of twenty four pouods or thereabouts. The human brain is the twenty-eighth part of the body, but in the borne the brain is not wore thau the four hundredth.— Good HetiliK- SUBSCRIPTION TERMS, AC. Tb ruc!u U published every Fcidat morn log be following rote? : Own -Toae, (in advance,) " " (it not paid within fix m0t.)... $2.40 " (if not paid within the year,)... f3.56 All paper* outside of the county discontinued without notice, at tho expiration of the time for which the subscription has been paid. Single copies of the paperfnrcuhed.fn wrappers at fire eenvs each. Communications on unbjecU of local or general nterest, are reapoctfully solicited. To ensnr* at tention faTorsofthis kind must inrariably bn accompanied by the narre of the author, not for publication, but as a guaranty against imposition. should be*" d" I *^' 118 office 1 'in'?, k JORDAST, Brnroan, Pa. REED OF OPPORTUNITY. W hen a man fails in an enterprise how prone is his fellowman to ascribe his want of success to a tack of the qualities requisite to overcome the natural impediments that lie in the way of all men. And yet nearly every one knows how far such an assump tion is from the truth, 'cor nearly every one can recall acquaintances possessed of every qualification for surmounting the or diuary difficulties that beset the path of ad vancement who throughout their whole lives are unable to make headway. They have skill., industry, knowledge sod prudence, and, after all, cannot rise above the level of the general mass. Say what we may, des tiny has more to do in shaping the careers of men than men themselves have. Upon no other reasonable hypothesis can the marked difference observable in the measure of reward meted out to men he Accounted for. Nor, as might he coeoeivei-, does tins | WN. imply preordination. It only assumes | that the order of events, or what is better, the relation of means to ends is such that only a portion, and that a small one, of m an . kind can obtain a chance to success fn other words, that the chances of failure greatly outnumber the chances of success in ail departments of human endeavor It proves nothing to the contrary to cite the instances, of the merchant, the manufacturer, or the professional man who has risen in the same place and by the same lu-truuieotality that witnessed the wreck of predecessor. Circumstances may have differed in the one case from what they were in the other, want of patronage, perfidous friends, unfortunate investments, domestic afflictions, accidents, may have been the common lot of one, while ceaseless-prosper itv attmded the footsteps of his successor. Men nmy embrace but they cannot make opportunity; that is beyond the power of the most powerful. They can only seize it as it is presented, and for him who stands not near as it passes swiftly by there is naught to do but delve as cheerfully as he may, in the humble sphere that fate has assigned him. One man becomes rich and (treat, while another equally capable, equally deserving, continues poor and lowly, because opportu nity was ever within reach of the first, and never or rarely within reach or sight of the second. Had Stewart sunk his patrimony of ten thousand dollars in his first venture on Broadway, his palaces would not be the marval of tl at street to-day, yet would he have Leen inherently the greatest merchant of them a.I. Grant at Galena was an hum ble citizen. Grant at the White liousc and in history is at the summit of terrestial greatness. But for the war the world would not know his name, yet would he have been no less a great soldier than now. He who ia persistent, provident and prac tical will do better than he who is lacking in these qualifications, but without the aid , that comes from special opportunity no man, however gifted, will achieve what is called success. The vanity, therefore, that springs from the consciousness of successful effort, like the notion that failure implies inefficien cy partial or total always, has but a slight foundation to rest upon.— huhatriul Amer taw. Bkeathisu. —lt is a well known fact that people who habitually breath through the nose are less liable to infectious diseases and pulmonary complaints; one very com mon benefit derived by such who sleep with the mouth closed, is that they never awake with the painful and disagreeable sensation produced by a parched throat and cracked lips. This may be a small matter, but I think it ie deserving of attention. When we break Nature's laws we must pay the penalty.— Good Health. A family which was residing in Lynn, Mass., at last accounts, has, during the past sixteen years, lived in sixteen different towns 1 and cities, and has occupied twenty-eight different houses. During this moving period i the wife has become the mother of eleven children. "Tniuae re three hoars and a half lost by you this morning," a superintendent said to a tardy teacher. "I was only half an hour late," he replied. ' True," said the superintendent; ' but then there were seven scholars waiting all that time fot you." PUTTING FOOT IN ITALY.—A distinguish ed civilian was lately explaining to his sen, who was quite a boy, the outlines of Italy, and remarked, as usual, that they resem bled in form a man's boot." ''Well" said the little fellow, "if I live to be a man I'll put my foot in it!" TUB Hcprrst inquires, Why do nine out of every ten newspapers call fusel oil fusil oil ? It is probably because fusil being a > tuu.ket, the liqnor in which it largely pre dominates is warranted to kill at forty paces. A Ji'GUK being asked what contributed most to success at the bar, replied, "Some succeeded by great talent, some by a mira cle, but the majority by commencing with out a shilling." AN Irishman, byway of illustrating tho horrors of solitary confinement, s.sttd that out of one hundred pcr-ocs sentenced to en dure this punishment for fife, only fifteen suiVived It. I AN lowa editor acknowledges the receipt jof Congressional documents in advance of j the mail," in consequence of a flock of wolves and bears chasing the rider across the prairies. FAID a youngster in glee, displaying his purchase to a bosom friend on tlxe sidewalk, "Two cocoanute for ten cents! that will make me sick to morrow, and I won't have to go to school." Ttrr. lion snd horse disputed one day as to whose eyesight was the best. The lion saw in dark night a white hair in milk; the the horse saw a black hair in pitch. So the horse won. A YANKEB editor says : "The march of ■ civilisation is onward —onward —onwaid — I like the slow but intrepid tread of u jack j.-s towards a peek of oats !' ' A CINCINNATI horse ran orer a boy sc f oently, but according to the papers, "no ' bones were broken except his skull. The r boy died soon after. \ Mr SIMKS eaysiflt wasn't for the hole 3 in the hoop youcouldn t put it on the tar rel, and the barrel would burst.