x A "'Sitf'Sfejfc.. ...... - , -.r .--,. m - sj0mmm ilMIBIiEl sfep- wtiiiittft ' ftp i-'' v a i. lov th: a6.. aic s ap cacj I. jj.piKC, Editor and Publisher. OLUME 5. ,D'' ..arl to nffpr 1 "tS u0" 1 ' 1 aTERlOR INDUCEMENTS " Ti cash rrr.cnASER3 of g!MI J COPPER HE. ffJvI.ESALE OU KE TAIL. , .-- moists in part of every variety of 'f-i"x- T'n, MiiTi-M mi, -prER AND BRASS WARES, r;AV.n.IF,n ANI PLAIN c4:CE-FAK3, BOILERS. fco , ;iV.TELS. MINE LABI'S, OIL iioUSKFURNISIUNQ IIARD V AKE OF EVERY KIND. yyem'a Anti-Dust riTlNG am COOKING STOVES, 'rxCELSloR COOKISG STOVES. l 'fKIFJirH and PARLOR COOK " ' INC. STOVES, ;irT o.kirg Stove desired I will get aicr at manufacturer's prices. iwe Hites ar.d Grates, Sec, for re ; r,r. lai.il f the Stoves I Fell ; others .'ibjyrilcrc' when wanted. Particular attention given to ?, Valleys and Conductors, ; j: :c.i win v,c mace out 01 uest mato i:n l put 3" competent workmen. rj Burners, Wick and CMmnevc WHoI .KSA1.E OR RETAIL. r-J partienhr attention to the Light i'.uru-r, w;;h uliu:s (Jone, for giving V:.t tli:.n r.ny other in use. Also, the Lia.vn Darker, fur Crude Oil. SS SETTLES AND CAULDRONS sizes constantly on hand. Special attention givtn to U'-' in Tin, Copper and Shcet-fron. at iowc.-t jx'hsibio rates. Vl!fTKAI.K MERCHANTS LlSTS.. :;i:a:v, ami will be sent on application ry ui .iii or in person to gc all my old enstomers and V!t ones this Spring, I return my :.c-r? tr.aaks tor the very liberal pa 1 i.ave already received, and will :-.rto pita.-?? all who may call, wheth- iuy or not. FRANCIS W. HAY. Motown. March 7. 1807. I;1:aT Ki-.mction in- iMticr.s ! S V) CASH CUSTOMERS! 4T TJJi: EHEXSRrRG iu unil.-r. Tne,i respc-ctfuily iniurms the F.;ienPbur2 and the niihlr pnpr. J '".t Le Las mai'.e a frpnt rr.1nrtir.n in -t.) CASH liUYEIiS. My stock will -M,m part, of Cooling, Parlor and Heat yi-'W, of the most popular kinds ; Tin ."of every description, of my own nian-"-'"re: Ihir.hrnrp tf o!I 1. n. Kuft fllnges, Tal.lo Hinges, u.nsw, uoits,lron and Nails, Win- w ljlas. l'uttv. Table Kniroo n,l w.i-o , uu iuin, meat uuers, -I V e 1 artrs, Vcn and Pocket Knives in -'-'it V;ir;ttv. .S,-:.K,.rc J1, r ,n v l- :' B-'tchets, Hammers, Boring .,t, ' '-'rers. UhisselH, Planes, (m , : p' l anel an( Cross-Cut Saws. rl j T S hhovels. Spades, Scythes , a.hs, Rae For.Rj So?2h Be r.:'. :s' 1,c-3- wx Bristles. Clothes :,V"'rv ni"5 St"nes. Patent Molasses In.i . ,VriI"i Stones. Patent Molas - -;n ! Measures, Lumber Sticks, Ho .-l- re Snoe.. Cast Steel. Rifles. SI i.vuvers, Pistols. Cartridges, Pc '-IDS. T.ri,l . V.. . Iorse Shoe ' ' - ' 1 . 1 I -- .7 , Lead X-n riA.t t? tii-i v ire Bricks, Well and Cistern A.:''Rg ; Harness and Saddlery '.; .""' '"en and Wdlvw Wart --tvrtrioty ; Carbon Oil and Oil Lamps, .." si-ar.J 0,1, Lir.-feed Oil. Lnhricatincr ? ?'r f ,Iaaro, Paints, Varnish- -i-um... Alcohol, &c. jmiy GROCERIES, .. ' .Ha. Cofire, Sugars, Molasses, Syr-i-r, J'ripd Peaches. Dried Apples, 'rt's:!, u"!ca; TOBACCO and ' llnt, 'Wtcwaab, Scrub, Horse, A amish. Stove. Clnthp ml - :u ''rnshfR oil , "r'ss'i t "'"i"1 "u tsizea : ueu !?7 rates ior UASIl. : it low TnLtin3 mde, pained and put '., nvtatKfr,.l A i:i , 1 ... . He -o.. zx uuurai tuscouni --.lcna!c ntry dca,era, by!-nK Tinware g. Feb, 28. 18G?.-tf. CfEORGK w. YEAGEIt W,1ale n d Retail Dealer In ATiNS AND COOK STOVES 0F EVERY DESCRIPTION. 3. ii il SMSITOE CpH!S OWN MANUFACTURE, GENERAL JOBBER in SPOUTING aJ all other work in his line. Street, near Caroline Street ALTOOA, PA, slin!if-!l0a,er ia the c5ty naving the ripht to rr?r!T;,10wne!l "BARLEY SHEAF" S TOVE. the most perfect complete and satisfactory Stove ever vntroduccd to the public. CK Immense. - Tiiices Loay. vJiSFACTION GUARANTEED. A,!,ln rfi,H ALL with Stencil Tools, a. L. Ghaham, sprinjftield, Vt, I. L O Ov Ma PAHfinUT COSlTAJiVJAf 3s f UtU D ESCRtPTiQ U GEORGE HUNTLEY, Wliolesale and Retail Dealer in STOVES. HAEDW&RE. MIlliE. EDENsnuno, PA., 13 Apro'it for tho ronownpil tna Mow- lupr ami llcuptiig Machine, al.so for tho colu brat:.l Cli)r)Kr M,u r mul Hcajn r, stoiit-r's su perior liuiae Iluv Hake, the in -1 in tho mar ket, l'rout's Coiiibiiu-il Hr.-e I lav Fork mul Kiu,'-. which ennnot be bi.nt, Stner's Grain Dnli-. an articlo evt-rv r-n-...cr should have. Grain running Millsi, Corn Cultivators. Center Iati i- I'lows.with ironorw oo-lbcanis and Jmn-dlt,-:-:tt orsteel iuuld-lHiardd and land-sidea; a it r-1 for tho ltlanc-harrt Chum, the best churn lwni in use, and tverv one of which is v.'i. ;:; nu-. : ;o arive fall satisfaction or no sale. Stov i - j .Mid r.ui-dwiirc of every descrijjtion con stiini iv !.: '.and at lowfi.fnirc8fnrci.-h. Karin ers - ,- ; i .i-ted to send in their orders early for Si. -if . Hcaj'rr. Horse Jriroaml Firrke. l'anH':'i' - ' :niaimii!j destt iptir.ns and direc tions for Mi.irf r and Heapcr uud Churns sent iree on appiiennon to UK lilGE HU-XTLEl . K"fH nburg-, March lrl, laTl.-4m. OWN and COUNTRY PROPERTY AT PRIVATE SALE. 1. A LOT OF fi ROUND in Monretown. with jrood f'lank House and OutbuildinKs. Cellar under thu entire lioiit-e. AS'ill be bold cheap and on cay terin. 2. ONE LOT OF GROUND in Mooretown, 06 feet front on Main street and 30 ioet deeu. A choice iel-ctfon of Fruit Trues on this Lot. It is most desirable locntion for buibiiutr. 3. A LARGE TWO (STORY FRAME HOUSE on Iot adjoinintr the above ; linely tJnished and witti ail eonvvnifiices. (hmmI outbuildiLig-3 and an abundance of fruit trees. 4. A TWO STORT FRAME HOUSE in East Ward of Ebensburif. Cellar kitchen, well and cistern water. Good outbuildings and office on same Lot. All in g-ood repair. Located on Main street. Rcnt3 for Jso. 5. A LARGE TWO STORY FRAME HOUSE in the Westward, suitable for two families. Lot 3j feet front on Main street and 204 feet deep. Could bo divided. Rents for 1."i0. . A TWO STORY FRAME HOUSE in West Ward, suitable for two families. Lot '-C feet front on Main street and 100 feet deep. A desi rable property. 7. ISLU.DINCr LOTSin Westward, Ebensb'fr, 8. PASTURE LOTS, of about S acres each, one mile from town. fl. TIMHElt. suitable for eord Trood, on LOTS of b or H acres each, one mile trom town. 10. SIXTY ACRES Hmw)Ck Timber LAND Will cut LOoo.UiO feet lumber. One and u balf miles from Kbensburir. 11. A FARM OF loo ACRES, convenient to luix iiPinirtf ; mostly cleared and m trood order, Will bo sold separately or with No. 10. i fJ"Al the above described property will bo sold cheap and on easy terms. Those desirinff im puic-iiH.se win can on or auuress tno under siK'ucil ou or before the 1st dav of .Tanuarv next, J. ALEX. MOORE, or F. A. SuoEMAKEn. EliensburffDec, 1. 1870. INDIANA COUNTY FAKM I AT PRIVATE 8AI.K! A VALUABLE FARM, situate in Tine town ship, Indiana county, la., thrco miles north of f-tronirsiown, is onered lor sale on the most ae coTiiniodatinsr terms. The FARM contains 300 AVUI.S of excellent land, ISO Acres cleared, under g-ood fence and ia a (fonrl state of culti vation. (-10 Aohks heinir meadow,) the balanei covered with a 1 liiek srowtu or pine timber. Tin.' 1 ilil; n.-l? : rp vr Of two FRAME f l.ts condition, i.V:g g I lisS a irood FRAMH RANK LARN, 41 rj ? by It., FitAMH STAF.r.K. &:., aff ?C?S'it'4 well as'a Water HOUSES, in first S w.MiM. in line runniriff order. ihere are sininifsor excellent water convent c-nt to both houses, and a splendid APPLE OR CHARD, comprising the choicest fruit, on the premises, i Xnere is also a t OA Ij ISA iv K. opened and in ffood work in? order, with a vein of ;oal reel iine.x ami or nrst rsite ouality The above described Farm is situate S iniles from the line of tho Homer and Cherrytree Rail Road, now partially under contract, r or tenna and other information apply on the pr misoa or address PETER MIILVKIIILL, l3-25.-3m. Stronpstown, Indiana Co., Pa. G ITAHDIAN'S SALE OF KEAL rSTATR. Will ho i.-rrw-wnrwl in l,Mvli Ci1 at the house of Harry Marlett, in Sttijrustine on Velnidi.v, llio Slli Jmae, 1S7I, at 5 o'clock, r. m., tho following described Real Es lato, of which Timothy Sheehan, late of Rlaii county, died seized, to wit: All that certair PIECE Ok PARCEL of- LAND situate in Clear Held town3hip. Cambria county, adjoininur lands of James McGoujfh, Thomas Wilt, Jeremiah rsieeuan, and John fc-heehan, confeunnitf ifty Term of Sale. One-half of purchase money on continuation of sale, and balance in one year, with interest, to be secured by bond and inort- ta(fc ui purcnaser. MICHAEL SHEEHAN, Guardian of minor children of Timothu Sheehan Cloarlield Twp., June 10, 18Tl.-3t. nUAHDIAN'S SATR OK KEAL ESTATE. Will be expnufi to Public S4I Tvri' I"!1"' 2'c1ocU, p.m.. tho followi Real Estate, of which Thomas Cowan. Into WlHW,u.rtA'lW-,1 : A ".ihnt PI ECE L, .."-i'V "r a" situate in white town ship, Cambria county, adjoining lands of Goo Gruff. John pnseam, and others, containini 11 J Acres,, being part of a larger tract war ranted in the name of Jacob Deckers ;o- .. i.uiniim money on con firmation of sale, and tlio balance in one ver with interest, to be secured by tho bonds and inoritfago oi iuo purcuaser. JOS. M. SMITH, Ouatxlian of minor children f Thm. Cowan,dec XVUiU Twp., Juno 10, W71.-3t. ilAUTION .All persona are hereby y cautioned a?ainst buyinjr or meddling in any way with the following personal property now in me possession or Joseph Hips, or i:iics township, Cambria county, viz: 1 Two Hors learn, with harness; 1 lbindle Cow and thre head of Young Cattle ; 1 plow, etc. ; as tho same ueioiiirqio me. JOHN IUP.S. Chest Twp., Clearlleld Co., May 22, lKTl.-OT. r UK IS A FREEMAN WHOM ebensburg, fee foci's gfparfmtnt. Over the Hill to tho Poor Honttc. BY WILL M. CABLETON, Over the hill to the poor house I'm trudging rhy a woman of seventy, and only a trilie gray who am smart an' clever, for all the years I Vfi tolil. i Asi many another woman thafe only half as old. vcr tho hill to the poor house I can't nulte ..nlrA . ..1 , 1 er tho hill to the poor house It seems so hor rid (picer I my a step I've taken a toilir to and fro, it this is a sort of a Journey I never tbouirht tog-o. t What is tho ueo of heapln' ou me a pauper's r-nu uic I :m I lazy or crazv 1 am I blind or Kin-.r- ? I'rtie. I aiU llOt SO HUI1I.1i' nnr vol cnuu-fnl itni.t . Rut charity ain't no favor, if onescan live with out. I am willin' an anxious an ready any day To work for a decent livin an' pay my honest way ; oe bound. For I can earn my victuals, and more, too, I'll If anybody only is wniin' to have me 'round. Onco I was younjj and han'somo I was, upon my soul feoal ; Once my cheeks was roses, my eyes as black as And I can t remember, in them davs, of hearin' ,jetiie ray. For aoy kind of reason, that I was in their way. Taint no use of boastin', or talkin over free. Rut many a house an' home wns .,ir.r. !..-., Many a hau'stnue offer I hail from likely men, ' An nobody ever hip.ted that I was a burden then And when to John I was married, sure he was goou anu smart, jmy part ; Rut ho and all tho nelc-hl mm would n-n.-n T rlriiti For life was all before me, an" I wus young and , iget aionp. And I worked tho best that I could in tryin' to And so we worked together; and life was hard. TTM.i. i. Lour way; Ith now and then a. bnbv Tr rtn rl,on Till we had half a dozen, an' all growed clean and.neat, to cat. An weut to school like others, an' had enough So we worked for the chlld'rn, and raisod them . everyone; ought to've done ; . ork d lor em summer end winter. Just as we Only perhaps we humored 'em, which some jrouu iiuKs eon'jftiin, .them But every couple's chUd'rn's a heap the beat to Strange how much we think of our blessed lit- T, , . Ile on.es . for my sons; Id nave died for mv daughters, ivi ha-. ii.i And God He made that rule of love; but when we're old and gray, the other way. I vc noticed it sometimes somehow fails to work Strangev another thing: -when our boys an' gnu was ruwu, ituere alone ; And when, exeeptin' Charley, they'd left us When John he nearer and uearer come, an' dearer seemed to be. The Lord cf Hosts He came one day an took mm uwuy irorii me. Still I was bound to struggle, an' never to crlhpo or tall Uy aji . Still I worked for Charley; for Charley was now jyuu niancj waspreiiygooa tome, withfcarce a word or frown. fwif from tnirn Till at last ho weut u-courtiu' and brought a She was somew hat dressy, and hadn't a pleasant smile style; She was o,uito conceit y, an' carried a heap o' i.ui ii ever i irien to no irleuds. 1 d d with her. I know : lit or. But she was hard and proud, tin' I couldn't make She had an edleatlon, and that -was good for "er; irvin tlnugs toolur; But When She twitted moon mine, 'twm rar. An' I told her once, 'fore company, (an' it al most made her sick,) 'rithmetic. That I never swallowed a grammar, or ct a So 'twos only a few days before the thing was done one; They were a family of themselves, an I another Jtw a very nine collage a taunly will do. But I never have seen a house thut was his euougu ior two. An' I never could speak to suit her, never could rdease her eve. rtrv ? An it made me independent, an then I didn't liut i was terribly staggered, an" felt it like a blow, could go. When Charley turned agin me, and told me I I went to live with Susan, but Susan's house was smulL for vis all ; And she was always a hlntln how enug it was And what with her husband's sisters, and what wuti cnuuren three, Lme. 'Twaa easy to discover there Wasn't -room for An then I went to Thomas's, tho oldest son i ve got, lacre lot ; For Thomas's buildings M cover the half ot an Rut ail their child'rn was ou me I couldn't stand their sauce there to boss. And Thomas said I needn't think 1 was comin' And then I wrote to Rebecca, my girl who lives out west, miles at best ; And to Isaac, not far from her some twenty And one of 'em said 'twas too warm there for any one so old, cold. And t'other had the opinion the climate was too So they have shirked and slighted me, and shift ed me about old heart out; So they have well nigh soured me, an' wore my Iljt still I've borne up pretty well, an' wasn't much put down, me on the town. Till Charley went to tho poor master, an' put Over the hill to tho poor house my child'rn dear, good-by I was iii-h ; Many a night I've watched you wheu only God And God '11 Judge between us; but I will al ways pray That you shall never suffer the half I do to-day. Harper' is Weeklu. IJClTIi AT THE Among the first settlers at Dover, New Hampshire, was a man bv the name of Tobias Foes. His cabin stood on the Toll End Road, on tbo left bank of the Cocheco, close by the Upper Falls. Here, as the settlement grew in numbers, lie built a rudo mill, to which the settlers for miles around brought their grain ; and this, coupled with what he raised from his lands, was more than enough for the support of his family, which consisted of a wife and three small children. The cabin stood on a high hill, from which the trees had been cleared for sev eral rods on either side, partly for the purpose of bringing the soil under cultiva tion, and partly that it might not offer shelter to tho savages, who might seek to approach the cabin with hostile intent. c'ome miles distant from the blockhouse, which had been erected on Garrison Hill and commanded by Major Waldron, they would have little chance to escape thither in case of danger, and so relied more upon the stout walls of tho cabin for de fence than the distant garrison. The mill was not visible from the cabin. It stood in a wild, secluded spot on the bank of the river, hemmed in with sharp hills and heavy forests, through which only a rude path led, that was daily trod by the owner of tho mill and those that had business thereto. Deep shadows lay across it, and hung over the mill like a pall, and so thick was the foliage upon the banks that hardly a. ray of sunlight ever found its way down upon the talking water, as it hurried over the dam, and was dashed upon tho black rocks below. THE TRUTH MAKES FREE, AND ALL pa., Saturday, Mrs. Foss often declared that she never went to the mill without experiencing a shudder of fear on account of' its gloomy location, and that it always seemed to her as though the woods were full of Indians, peering out at her on either aide, ready to spring out upon her and ttake her life in cold blood, but her husband laughed at her fears, and said that she was as safe there as in the cabin, and that, as far as he was concerned, be gave little thought to tho savages while about his daily toil. One day late in September, he went to his work at the mill in the morning, as usual. The tky was overcast, giving promise that rain would be falling before nightfall. A solemn stillness pervaded the forest, like that which sometimes pre cedes a storm ; and Mrs. Foss, standing in the doorway, watching her husband as he went down the hill and into the forest to his work, felt a boding of evil that ehe could not shake olf. To her it 6eemed as though the very silence possessed a voice, and was speaking to her, telling of more terrible danger which was impending over them. As the day wore on, the sky, if anything, assumed a more leaden hue, and the clouds came down so low that they seemed almost to touch tho tops of the trees which surrounded the little clearing. With the passing hours and the increas ing gloom, the depression which had been weighing upon the spirits of the miller's wife increased ; and long before the hour of noon came, she was firmly convinced, in her own mind, that some terrible dan ger threatened them, even if harm had not already come to her husband while at his work in the mill. Filled with these gloomy thoughts sho moved about the cabin, preparing the t cu tide meal. In those days timepieces were a costly luxury which but few pos sessed; and, as the cabin was without one, and the sun was not shining, she had to rely upon herself to guess the time when the meal should be ready. Hut she had done this too many times to greatly err ; and, when at last the meal was in readi HCB3, she was ready to wager anything it was but a few minutes from tho meri dian, one way or the other. For a few moments she lingered about the table, waiting for the familiar step of her hus band to sound outside, and replying to the eager clamor of the children that they might be allowed to go down to the mill for their father. Then, with them etill clingiDg about her, she went to the door way, and gazed anxious-ly toward the river. She could see nothing of him, nor hear a sound, save the dull roar of the river breaking over the dam, and rushing among the stones below, mingled with the sighing of the wind through the tree-tops, which told of the rain as plainly as the leaden sky overhead. Far away in the distant hills it seemed as though the rain had already begun to fall, and, in a little time, would be there. The children still clamored to be al lowed to go to their father, but to this sho would not consent. The way was lonely through the woods, and, to her, was aN ways teeming with danger. Sho would wait a little longer, when ho would sure ly come. The day being overcast, and he hard at work, the time might slip by fast er than he was aware, and not imagine that dinner time bad come. Slowly the moments dragged themselves along to the impatient woman, and, with the lapse of each, her fears for the safety of her husband increased. Surely some harm must have come to him, for he bad never been so late to hia meals before ; and, unable longer to control her fears, the bade the children follow her ; and closing the cabin door, she took tho path that led down towards the mill. As she crossed rhe edge of the clearing and entered the forest, fho thought that it had never seemed so gloomy there before, and never eo filled with strange sounds as those which seemed to salute her cars from every side. Even tho children seemed impressed with the strange moan ing of the tree-tops and ceased their childish prattlo, clinging about the skirts of their mother, as a sort of undefined dread crept over thorn, communicated in part, perhaps, by the gloom which they read upon the face of their parent. Deeper and deeper grow tho gloom as they plunged into the forest and approach ed the mill. Tho moaning sounds that filled the tree-tops were lost in the roar of the water over the dam, as they came nigh the river's bank. A turn in the forest path showed them the mill a little way before them, the door standing epcD, but no signs of life about it. For a moment Mrs. Fos3 paused, and listened for any sound that might como therefrom. liut nothing met her ear save the roar of the waler. The mill wasn't at work, or the groaning of the ponder ous wheels would have long ago saluted her ears. The silent and deserted appear ance of tho mill added to her fears, and she hesitated about stepping within tho doorway. Might not a fearful scene greet her eyes and chill the blood in her veins? Pausing within a few feet of tbo open door, sho called aloud to her hus band. There wa3 no answer save the roar of the water, which seemed to echo back to drown her cry. Again it was repeat ed, but with a like result, and then, sum moning all her courage, with her children clinging about' her skirts, she stepped within tho mill. A glance about the first floor showed nothing that added to her fears. No ARB SLAVES BESIDB. june 24, i87i. signs of human life were there. The hugo wheels and the belt with its running gear confronted ber with their maze of compli cations, for the mills of those eld days were fearfully and wonderfully made. Tho stairs that led up to the story above stood in one corner, up which the grain was carried to the hopper ; and towards these she moved to explore the upper room. Bidding her children remain at the foot of the stairs until her return, she began the ascent, and her head had nearly reach ed a level with the floor above, when, glancing in through the open stairs, she beheld a sight which turned her limbs to stone and her blood to ice. Perched upon the broad wheel around which the great belt ran, were two huc painted savages. For a moment it seemed as though she could not retain her fooling. Herbrain reeled, and her limbs grew weak beneath her, until it seemed as though they could not sustain her body. A film obscured her sight, and for a moment she was un conscious of all about her. Iiy a violent effort sho threw the spell from her, and once more became alive to her terriblo situation. Without moving from the stairs upon which she tood, she glanced once more at her fearful foes, but quickly withdrew her eyes, fearful that they might think she had seen them, and therefore hasten tho fate she - felt was impending over them, 0 For a moment the bewildered woman knew not what to do. Death for herself and children stared her in the f ice, and from it there seemed no possible chance of escape ; yet even then sho was clinging to life, and planning to save her own and those dear to her. That her husband had fallen by their hands she had no doubt. Even then ho was doubtlo-s lying, a ghastly corpse, in some part of tho mill, or sornewlicre in it. vicinity ; and she was afraid to turn her eyes in any direction, lest they should be blasted by a sight that should com pletely prostrate her, and deliver them an easy prey to the savages. She had started for the upper chamber; and to turn back now, she was fearful woulu attract the attention of the savages. Therefore, with n violent effort she kept on, though fearing every moment to hoar a cry from one of the children, who might espy one of the eavages, and therefore hasten tho terrible death which stared them in the face. Two steps moro and the chamber was revealed to her and her heart grew sick at the sight which sho there beheld. A little way from the hopper, and close by the lever by which the floodgate was rais ed, lay the body of her husband, welter ing in his blood. A large pool lay upon the floor, which had flown from a musket wound in his heart, and th scalp had also been torn from the head of tho vic tim. The features were distorted, and , hatdly a semblance remained of him who had that morning loft the cibin so full of life. For a moment she stood incapable of motion ; and then, with a cry, she sprang forward and knelt by the body of her hus band. Hut for a moment only was her own pafety and that of her children for gotten. One kiss upon the pale lifeless fnce upturned before her; and then sho hastened to put into execution a plan which had been rapidly conceived in her brain. Should it be successful, the safety of herself and children would be assured, and tho death ot her husband at tho same time avenged.., Tho lever by which tho flood-gate was raised and the mill set in motion was be fore her ; and springing to it, she exerted all her strength to make it answer to its uae. For a moment it seemed that tho task was beyond her strength. The lever refused to move, and the cumbrous ma chinery of the mill was motionless. Again she exerted her strength, and, to her great joy, she found that it was mov ing. Moro resolutely she bent to tho task ; and at last tho lever went slowly, and the gate came up. A rush of waters sound ed beneath, and tho next moment the hugh wheel began to revolve, and clank, and groan, as was their custom in use. A cry from unmistakably savage throats told her that her plan had succeeded, and that the redskins were caught in tho trap sho had ect for them. Iy hiding away in such a fpet upon her approach,, that they might thereby more surely ensure her destruction and that of her children, they had got them selves in a situation from which it wa3 hard escaping. The cries of her frightened children, mingled vith those of the savages and tbo clatiking of tho mill, came to her cars, and she hastened to descend the stairs to them. Once upon the lower fkxr, the children clung to her with frightened cries ; and while she tried to hush them, she took in at a glance the situation of affairs, and saw to her great joy, that the plan she had laid had succeeded admira bly. The savages, clinging with all their strength to tho huge wheel, were boing rapidly whirled round and round, while at each revolution it seemed as though they must bo hurled violently to the floor. With wild cries they went round and round ; and the miller's wife saw they were becoming dizzy, and could not much longer retain their hold upon the arms of the wheel upon which they were porched. They must bo hurled to the floor ; and, if not stunned by the fall, sho and ber children would be again at their mercy. A glance showed her her husband's axo standing by the door ; and as quick a3 thought she hastened to possess it. Now, with a weapon of defence, fhe felt greater courage than she had yet cxpeii cuced. Her children, nearly frantic with terror, still clung to her skirts. The cries of tha savages alarmed them to such an extent that they could not be in duced to leave her for a moment. A glance at tho savages showed l:cr that one of them had become dizzy and could not rnuch longer retain his hold. The moment that was to decide their fate was fast approaching, and she nerved her self to meet it. By a violent effort sho succeeded in dis engaging the children from about her, and with uplifted axe, sprang toward the wheel, just as the savage let go his hold, and was hurled violently almost at her very feet. With all the strength her arm possessed, she swung the axe above her head, and brought it down with such force and precision that the skull of the bewildered and helpless savage was cleft in twain. Another cry broke from the lips of tho remaining savage. His hold upon tho wheel was rapidly loosening ; and, dazed as he was, he saw that tho fate of his companion must shortly bo his. Ihit ono chance of life occurred to him, and thai was to attempt to spring from the wheel from the opposite side from where lay the body of his companion, and where ho thought the intrepid woman would not venture while the machinery of the mill was in motion. With ell his remaining strength he made the attempt ; but it was fatal to him, for he was caught by the bolt and dashed on with resistless force against a post standing near. Tho mill went on, the wheel dragin him rouud, at each revolution repeating the blow, and in a little time the Favae was beaten out cf all resemblance of humanity. With grateful heart for the deliverance which had been vouchsafed to them, Mrs. Foss gathered her children about her, and hurried from the mill which contained eb many horrors In the ruin which had commenced to fall, the hastened along tho path, past their cabin, which would never seem like home to her again, after the terrible occurrence of the day, and down to the main settlement below. There, assured of safety for hersi-If and children, the strength which had sustain ed her gave W3V ; and it was weeks Ic fore she was able to leave the cabin of the friend with whom sho had taken refuge. The site of the old mill ia to bo seen on the Toll End Koad, and few are the dwellers theroon that cannot repeat its story. Story of a Hat. The South Norwalk Sentidel tells a romantic 6tory of a young lady, who some time ago was employed as a hat trimmer in a manufactory of that city. One day. being more than usually disgusted with her tedious and profaic occupation, on tha impulse of themoment she wrote her name and address upon tne lining of a hat she had just finished, and patiently awaited the result. The hat, with hundreds of others, was sent off to the "trade ' and finally purchaFed by a young New Yorker, who chanced to discover the name upon the lining. Being of a romantic turn of mind he wrote to the young Jlady ; nn intimacy followed, and the result wa3 the marriage of the two la6t week. Apropos of the above, but not of the same romantic and pleasing character, ia the "following story from the Danbury, Conn., Aravs: "A girl in this town stitched her name in the lining of a hat beneath the statement : 'I am thine; wilt thou be mine ?' and sent it adrift. After various vicissitudes itwas purchased by a ccitain gentleman, and took a position oYi his head. One day the lining.bccamo loose, and in endeavoring to fasten it his eye rested upon the Ecut'unent and name, and he involuntarily exclaimed, 'D n fool!" When Martha returned to her homo that day she was taken to a retired part of the cottage and warmed with a strap. The gentleman who got the hat was her father." A IIcmase Acr Punished. Tho Lib eral Christian has the following anecdote from a gentleman who was an eye-witness of the circumstance narrated : The thermometer often stands for days at from 109 to 117 degrees in the lied Sea, and when the vessel is with the wind, and traveling about with tho spoed of the air, tho lack of any breeze or .ven tilation makes life on the steamer almost insupportable. On thia occasion four men and two women among the passcn gcrs were so overcome with the heat that the Bbip's doctor reported that they must die if the ship's course were not changed and a breeze created by traveling against tho wind. The captain Very reluctantly, and in dire fear of the company's orders, yielded to the cry of humanity and steam ed one hundred miles back on his course, lie thus reduced the oppressive tempera ture twenty degrees, ventilating his ship, and saving the lives (probably of six passengers.- The government fined the com pany (who excused the captain, al.hough not without a warning not to do it again) a thousand pounds for going out of the prescribed route with her majesty's mails. Terms, $2 per year In advance NUMBER 21 Tlio Xluc or Diamonds. A correspondent having requested u to state why the nine cf diamonds card is called the ''curse of Scotland," ha in duced us to give a very full answer to this often asked but seldom answered question. The famous family cf the Dalryrcplcp, from, whom so many stranji and horrible stories have their origin, aro also the cause of this curious expression. Sir James Da'ryroplc, f ret carl f Slair, was a man of -neat ability and ac tive public life in Scotland dt'ring the days of the protectorate, after the restora tion and in the reign of William tm 1 Mary. Macaulay streaks of him us the "founder of a funny eminently distin guished at the bar, en the bene!), in the senate, in diplomacy, in arms and in let ters, but distinguished also by misfortunes and misdeeds which have furnished poo;? and nove'ii&ts with material for the dark est and most heart-rending talcs." Sir Walter Scoot called him ono of tho great est lawyers who ever lived, and his family an "illustrious race.'' It was the daugh ter of this carl of Stair, James Dairy mple, who stabbed her bridegroom in the nup tial chamber, upon which incident Soctl founded his story of iLc bridoof Lair.nirr moor. Sir James Dairy re pic lived iu corrnpt times, had to do with wicked men, r.od must have been depraved, indeed, to ex ceed the sins of those of his days; yet he appears to have been hated with great in tensity b' a large portion of the Sec t'.ih peoplo. His wife was believed to !e a witch, and his many tragic mifortur.c wcrc considered special visitations f Providence, Still, withal, there had n-rc yet fallen to the history of his house t! e harsh imputation implied by tho term : are about to explain. This rematkablc man f-hnrcd his politi cal power with his eon, the able Jt-1.:; Dalryuqle, who, under William 111, wr.; appointed Lord Advocate of Scothin-'. Dnd by his connection with ihe f right fol massacre of Glencoe, brought upon him-' self and his father's houso the redoubled hatred of the people. The story cf tl fierce crime is briefly as follow:? : William had issued a proclamation tf pardon to all the highianders who wouM Vtender thoir submission In fore ihe tirs-t c f January, 1G92." In obedience to thu demand the little c'an of Macdonald of (xlencoe, through the person of their chief, desire! so to report their intention. !...: severe weather and mifhaps delayed 1 i arrival before the proper officials uutil five days after the final day. John Dairy tu ple and others, overjoyed at the incident, obtained, by misrepresentations to the king, permission to eubdue ihe clan. A company of soldiers (Campbell's) were sent to the lonely glen, and a sccno of atrocious cruelty was enacted, rcsultir.g in the destruction of the clan by blood shed, hunger and cold. Tho coat-of-arms of the Dalrymplcs is described in heraldic phrase, "at or cii a ground saltire azure, nine lozenges of the field," meaning, principally, nine dia monds, on a St. Andrew's cross. The explanation is guossed before we fini.-h ' the nine of diamonds is, by reason of re semblance, called the "Curse of Scotland." It is also said that Dalrymple's order sending Campbell of GlenTyoh who, by the way. was one of the ancient kinsmen" of the lately celebrated Marquis of Lome on the bloody errand to the fatal glen was written on the back of the nine of dia mond card, but this i3 altogether unlikely. A Komantic Sror.Y. Here is a noat littlo story from Kentucky: About twenty-five years ago a young man from that State took a horseback ride to Virginia, where hi3 father carno from, and on hi? way he met a man and his family moving West, so poor that they were almost re duced to starvation. He had compassion on the wretched croup, and gave them n $20 bill with which to reach their jour ney's end. In about fifteen years the young man received a letter from the niai; he had befriended, saying that he was a prosperous merchant in Southern Ken tucky, and enclosing a 20 note to repay his loan. After another ten years, which included the great rebellion and its ter mination, he was elected to tha Lower IIouso of the Kentucky Legislature, and being a man of talent and influence, was chosen Speaker, during the contest for which, ho had noticed that a stranger and one of the other party was hia strongest snpporters. His curiosity was aroused by this, and he asked the man's motive, as he never had toh"i3 knowledge seen him before. "Sir," replied the member, "you will recall, when I mention it, a litib scene that occurred when you were a boy on your way to Virginia. It was you who saved my wife from starvation. She has told mo time and again, that never did u morsel of food taste so sweet so utterly dolicious, a3 that you gavo her then. She was but six years old at that time ; bnt when she saw your name, dur ing the late canvas, among the prominent probable candidates for the speakership, she laid down the law a3 to how I was to vote. This 13 an. Neither she, nor her father and mother, brother and sister?, nor myself, can ever forget you.".i Wanted A cover for bare suspicion, a veil for tho face of nature, butions for breaches of privilege, binding for volumes of smoke, cemeut for broUvn cngage- rncnts.- il