TERMS OF TEE GLOBE. Per annum in advance Sic months Three months.... ...... A failure, to notify a-discontinuance at the expiriation of the term subscribed for will be considered a new engage ment. - ' TERMS OF ADVERTISING. 1 insertion. .-2 do. 3 do. Four lines or ....... $ 25 $ 37% $ 50 One square, (12 lines,) 50 - 75 100 Two squares, 1 00 • 1 50 2 00 •_ . . Three squares, 1 50 - - 2 25 3 00 Over three week and less than three mouths, 25 cents por square for each insertion. . 3 months. 6 months. 12 - months, Six lines or less, $1 50 ' $3 00$5 00 One square, - 3 00 5 00..., 7 00 Two 'squares, 5 00 '8 00 'lO 00 Three squares, 7 00 ' 10 00 15 00 Four squares, 9 00 13 00 20 00 Half a column, 12 00 13 00 ' 24 00 One column, ' 9 0 00 30 00 50 00 Yrofessiogal and Business Cards not exceeding four lines, one year, ~ $3 00 Administrators' and Executors' Notices,' $1 75 . . _ Advertisements not marked with the number of inser tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac cording to these terms. NEW GOODS I NEW GOODS !! AT D. P. GWIN'S CHEAP STORE b. P, GWIN has Just returned from Philadelphia With the largest and most beautiful assortment of SPRING AND SUMMER GOODS Ever brought to Huntingdon. Consisting of the most fashionable Dress Goods for Ladies and -Gen tipple!' 1 Bl o ck and Fancy Silks, all Wool Delainos. (all colors,) Spring Be. lains, Braize Dolanes, Braizes ' all colors; Debaize, Levella Cloth, Alpacca, Plain and Silk Warp, Printed Berages. Bril liants, Plain and Colored Ginghams, Lawns and Prints of every description. Also, a large lot of Dress Trimmings, Fringes, More-An- - tique Ribbon, Gimps, Buttons, Braids, Crapes. Ribbons, Deed and Brass Hoops, Silk and Linen Handkerchiefs, Neck- Ties, Stocks, Zepher, French Working Cotton, Linen , and Cotton Floss. Tidy Yarn, &c. • Also, the best and cheapest assortment of Collars and Under:sieves in town; Barred and Plain ;Towne t, Mull Mus lin. Swiss, Plain, Figured and dotted Skirts, Belts, Mar. sailles for Capes, and a variety of White Goods too numer ous to mention. SPRING SHAWLS, THIBBT SHAWLS, MANTILLAS, to Also, Cloths. Cassimers, Cassinets ' IC Jean, Cot. Drills, Muslins, Tiekings, Nankeen, Table Diapers, Also a large lot of Bonnets, - Flats, and Hats, at lon- BOOTS and. SHOES, the largest and. cheapest assortment in town. HARDWARE, QUEENSWARB, BUCKETS, CHURNS, TUBS, BUTTER BOWLS, BROOMS, BRUSHES. &c. CAR PETS and OIL CLOTH. FISH, SALT, SUGAR, COFFEE, TEA, MOLASSES, and all goods usually kept in a country store. My old customers, and as many new ones as can crowd in, are respectfully requested to call and examine my goods. /KZ- All kinds of Country Produce taken in exchange, at the Highest Market Prices. April 31, 1858 IlicillitraTlCUE hav 'N FISHER, ng r EW STORE !—NEW GOODS ! 45z. ie opened the ALETICUPWATAN, formerly know a as " Saxton's,' take pleasure in announcing to their many friends, that they have receised a new and well selected Stock of GOODS, which they feel confident will satisfy the demands of the public, and will prove unexceptionable in Style and Qttatitll; The line'of Dress Goods embraces Robes A'Quille, in Organdies, Lawns, Percales, &c., Chalet's, Be rages, Brilliants, all Wool DeLaines, Cravella, Mohair. Dan ubian, Tam ise and Lavella Cloths, Deßage Los tres, Alpac cas. Prints, Ginghams. &c. We have a fine assortment of Summer Shawls, Mantillas, Dress Trimmini4s, Fringes. Antique's. Ribbons. Mitts, Gloves, Gauntlets, CyllarS, Handkerchiefs. Buttons, Floss, Sewing Silk, Whalebones for Skirts, Reed Hoops, Brass ditto, Skirt Cord. '&e. Also—Tickings, Osnaburg, Bleached and Unbleached all prices; Colored and White Cam brics, Barred and Swiss inuslinq, Victoria Lawns, Nain rooks, Tarleton. and many other artielh: which cumprise the line of WHITE: and DOMESTIe GOODS. We have French Cloths, Fancy . C'as , iteer•L. Satinet4, .Teans Tweeds, Cottonades. Linens, Denims and Blue Hats, Caps, and Bonnets, of every variety and Style. Also, a large assortment of all kind= of .Vrate Goods. A Good Stc;cl7. of GP OCERIES, HA.1 , 170W ARTI. QUEENS WARE, BOOTS and SHOES, WOOD and WILLOW-WM:It, which will be soil Cheap, _ . We also deal in PLASTER. FIST[ ,8 ALT. and all kinds of GRAINS. and possess facilities in this branch of trade unequalled by any. We deliver all paeka-.4es ur paicelsol Merchandise free of charge at the Depicts of the Broad Top and Pennsylvania Railroads'. COME ONE, COME ALL, and be convinced that the,2lP fropolfian is the place to secure fashionable and desirable goods,-disposed of at the lowest rates. ' April 14, 1853. - ' F OR EITEkYBODY TRY TILE NEW STORE, On Hill Street oppOsile Miles d Dorris' Office TIIE BEST SUGAR. and 3IOLASSES, - COFFEE, TEA and miocoLATE. FLOUR, FISH, SALT-and 'VINEGAR. CONFECTIONERIES, CIGARS and TOBACCO, MOBS OF THE TEST. AND ALL RINDS, and every other article usually found in a Grocery Store ALSO— Drugs, Chethicals, Dye Stuffs. Paints, Tarnishes. Oils and opts. Turpentine, Fluid. Alcohol, Glass and Putty. BEST WINE and BRANDY for medical purposes. ALL THE BEST PATENT 3IEDICIN ES. , and a large number of articles too numerous to mention. The public generally will please,call and examine for themselves and learn our prices. .1.1 - 3IANIGru smiTir. Huntingdon, May 25, ISSS. II - UNTINGDON HOTEL. : . . The .i.tbscrlber respectfully tumonn cps to hi,: fri ei ids and the public generally, that he line leased that old and well established TiyEns STAND, known as the • Huntingdon, House, on the corner of Hill mid --,- Charles Street, in the Borough of Huntingdon.— lie has fitted up the House in such a style as to ... M . tender it very comfortable for lodging Strangers and lrav elers. lIIS TABLE will always be stored with the best the sea son can afford, to suit the tastes and appetites of hib guests. ,lIIS BAP, will always be tilled with Choice Liquors, and IIIS STABLE always attended by careful and attentive Ostlers. lie hopes by strict attention to business and a spirit of accommodation, to merit and receive a liberal share of public. patronage. - P. McATIIEIt: May 12, 1855r-ly. A TTENTION ALL ! - JUST ARRIVED, Si•LENDLD STOCK OF BOOTS AND SHOES. FOR LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. MISS t• 8, BOYS AND CHILDREN. ,For Men and Boys' Fine Boots, call at , WESTBROOK'S Boot and Shoe Store For Ladies and Misses Gaiters and Shoes, call at - WESTBROOK'S For Children's Shoes of all kinds, call at WESTBROOK'S For Men and Boys' Coarse Boots and Shoes, call at • WESTBROOK'S, For Morocco Leather, call at - For any thing you want in my line, _ CALL SOON. For Ladies Gaiters at prices from $l.OO to 52.25, call on .11 - untiugdon, )fay 5.18:jS ALEXANDRIA. FOUNDRY! The Alexandria Foundry haslicen bought :by It. C. McGILL, and is - iii blast, - ~.. and hate all kinds of Castings, Stoves, Ma-, 21 ,„,"; chines; Plows. Kettles. &c., &c., which he inulaidh, ll ; llll will sell - at the dowest prices. All kind:, of Country Produce ,and old Metal taken in exchange for Casting's, atinarket prices April 7, 1838 •- • COUNTRY,' DEALERS can ig .. ,,4.,""k+ buy CLOTHING from me in Huntingdon at 'WHOLESALE as cheap as they can in the cities, as I have a wholesale store in Philadelphia. Huntingdon, April 14, ISSB. . IL ROMAN. VARNIS.EI VARNISH !.!. 1/ 'ALL KINDS, warranted good. ti r sale at BROWN'S Hardware Store. , Ifuntittoloti, 1?a, April 28, ISSS--tf. LADIES, ATTENTION !--11.1y assort ment of beautiful dress goods is now open, and ready for inspection. Every article or dress you may desire. can be found at my store. " D. P. GWI:N. HARDWARE! - A Large Stock, just received, and for salo at BRICKER'S MAMMOTH STORE rrillE MAMMOTH STORE' h ' St e• o 11',.." RRICKER'S Mammoth Store is the ty • place to get the worth of your money, in Dry Goods, liardwarei.Grocories, &c., 4:c. VANE FISHING RODS- 7 A Superior VANE Article—at LOVE A: MCDIVITT'S. DOUGLASS & SHERWOOD'S I', ent Extension Skirts, for sale only by FISIIER & AIeNIIIRTRIE . _ . B UILDERS • Are requested to call and examine the Hardware, dte., at BRICKER'S :MAMMOTH STORE. • ROCERIES, , or Of tho best. always ready for customers, at J. BRICKER'S MAMMOTH STORE .... 41 50 75 50 D. P. GWIN WESTBROCAIT, P I B. C:McGILL WILLIAM LEWIS, VOL. XIV. , tizet Vattti. [From Emerson's Magazine for July.] THE GOOD TIME PAST . =! "0 dear! 0 dear! I grieve, I grieve, For the good old days of Adam and Eve!" "There's a good time coining," somebody sung, A long time ago when the world was .young— And, ever since then, have all human kind Been looking and longing, that time to find; But ages on ages have rolled away, And the far off future still claiins the day. • As for me, - I am weary of looking ahead, And rather prefer to look back instead, To the primitive days when a anan, was a man, ' In spite of poverty's blight and ban; When gold was not God—when wealth was not worth— When an honest man ranked with the noblest of earth; And truth did not simper, and sneak, and hide, From.the scoffer's sneer and the skeptic's pride. I love to look back to that good time flown, When childhood and age were not both unknown, When girls and boys had a time to grow, And learn in their childhood a thing or so:— When boys from their cradles were never known To spring out at a bound on the world full grown, With a swagger and swell, and a braggart air, With ti fiery nose and a fired cigar,— Or baby girls, from their mothers' arms, Step forth mature in all womanly charms, Hooped, chalked, and painted, and ready . ' quite To flutter and flaunt for the world's delight; 4.. 8ut infancy, childhood, and- youth. had each Appropriate manners, appropriate speech; , And each, when its season was fully past, Gave to manhood and womanhood place at last. I love to think of that good old time When a man at sixty was in his prime; With a healthful face aid a hopeful air. _%ml the world was proud of his dear white hair; When grand-mothers, too, had a place on earth With their pure affections and womanly worth; When the "arm chair" stood by each chimney side . A thing of beauty, a thing of pride— And its gray-haired occupant sat serene, The crowning charm of the fireside scene. Then, too, in that olden time they say, The the Church by proxy had learned to pray, . Or innovation made all things. new, Good men could be pious the whole week through,— Not Sundays alone, in their cushioned pews, Dreaming of polities, trade, and the news: til pity tl.e preacher stood, or the preacher bowed, And prayed long prayers for the sleepy crow (I,— While the practised choir, with fiddle and flute, "Sang anthems of praises," while they sat mute. Not thus. Mil our forefathers wor, , hip Ifim In whose pie-some the glory of earth is dim;— Rut the lowly cot or the humble fano, Grove, mountain, or desert, or field, or plain, The tiirren heath, or the flowery sod, Was to them meet temple to worship God— Where rich and poor might IN ith one accord Kin el and worship creation's Lord. Then. character was not all ouLide, A thing of glitter, and glare, and pride; - And humanity sought to be something higher Than a htrutting show-ease for fools to admire. Then, a true bravo heart, in a manly breast, Oft throbbed 'neath the folds of a leathern vest: And an honest purpose and high intent With the poor day-laborer often went ; Lent over the anvil; orshoved the plane, Or gathered the sheaves of the summer grain; And worth, though poor, had a right to claim, .spite of his poverty, place and name. But men and women have passed away, And ladies and gentlemen rule the day., The former a creature of singular grace; Mysterionsty fashioned of feathers and lace, Of cotton and cordage, of brass and brocade, Bounitum and powder, with rouge overlaid: Curls in . rnished to order, and teeth that have grown under the hands of the dentist alone. The latter, an object the tailor has made, And the barber improved, by his barbarous trade--: A beautiful pet, whose appropriate place • Is to sit in a Cage and exhibit his face. Then women were healthful, industrious, true, Of vigorous bodies and intellects too; Walking up bravely to three-score-and-ten, And sitting down calm in the sweet sunset then Now, they are feeble, cadaverous, pale, Shrinking aghast from the breath of the gale, Tottering feebly to womanhood's years, .The prey of disease, disappointment, and tears; And then, when their sun in its zenith is high, In infantile weakness they falter and die. - Thal man in his primitive majesty trod The green earth erect, in the image of God: Unfettered by custom; unshackled by art,' - Health glowed on his temples, health polsedin his heart— _ Gave poise to his intellect, strength to his arm, To pleasure a zest, and to duty a. charM. • . Firmly he moved 'lnid_life's perils aud tears, - Till•his forehead was white with the frost-work of years, ,And the cool , dowy;evening, in quietness blest, : Called the earth-weary traveler home bpi& rest. •. 21 - oxe, dwarfed in his stature and bankrupt in,hcalth, Struggling for knowledge or delving for wealth, rale„ careworn, and restless, to sickness a prey, ' In youth's sunny morning lie falls by the way, , And dies, ore like's labors are scarcely begun. llls taskslall unfini4ied, his dutieS undone. "There's a good time clueing," somebody sung, A long time ago when the world" wai young; - But, alas, 'for our sickly dtgener'tte race! - And, alas, for the future Ave're nearing apace! We cannot, as yet, in the distance descry One glimpse of its dawn on the far misty sky. • But still we have faith, anti faith whispers alway, "Hope on, and hope ever,' soon cometh'the day • When our ransomed humanity, shackled no More, Shall tower up more grandly than ever before;. And the eyes of the mourner no longer be cast Regretfully back to the good time past. The following improbable story is go ing the rounds of our exchanges : "A rich manufacturer, named Oppelt, died , about fif teen years since" at Reichenburg in Austria, and a vault was built by his widow and chil dren in the cemetery for the reception of the body. The widow died a short time since, and was taken to the same tomb ; but when it was opened for that purpose the coffin,of her husband was found open and empty, and the skeleton of the deceased discovered in a corner of the vault in a sitting posture." THE FOUNTAIN VERY FAR DOWN. " I don't-believe it," said my cousin Ned, who was passing his college vacation'at'our house, and there, was a world of unwritten scepticism in the, air- with which he dashed down "the paper over - svhOse damp columns his eyes had been traveling for the - previous half hoar.. " You 'see,, cousin Nay," continued Ned, getting up and,pacing the long old-fashioned parlor with quick, nervous strides, "it's all sheer nonsense to talk about these doors in every human, heart. It sounds very pretty and pathetic in a story, I'll admit; and so dou. great many other things which reason s and actual experience entirely repudiates:— There are hearts—alas ! their names are legion—where 'far it*ay up' there is no door to be opened, no deeps to be fathomed. Now don't, cousin Nelly, level such another re bukinc, glance at me from thoSe brown - eyes, for I riave just thought of a.case illustrative of my theory.. Don't, you remember Miss Stebbins, the old maid, who lived at the foot of, the hill, and how I picked a rose for you one morning, which had climbed over the fence into the road ? Faughl I shall never forget the tones of the virago's voice, or the scowl of the forehead as she sallied out of the'front door and shook her hand at me. A woman who could refuse a half wither ed flower to a little child, I wonder that roses could blossom on her soil. At the `smiting of the rod' no waters could flow out of such a granite heart. In the moral desert of such a character no fertilizing stream can make its way." I did not answer cousin Ned's earnest, elo- Tient tones, fur just then there was a low rap of visitors at the parlor•door, but I have always thought there was a good angel in the room while he was speaking, and look ing down, down, very far down in his heart, he saw a fountain there, rank weeds grew all around it, the seal of years was on its lips, and the dust of time deep on the seal; but the angel smiled as it floated upward, and murmured, " I shall return and remove the seal, and the waters will flow." Stern and grim sat Miss Stebbins at her work, - one summer afternoon. The golden sunshine slept and danced in its play place in the corner, and broke into .a broad laugh along the ceiling, and a single beam, bolder than the rest, crept to the hem of Miss Steb bins' gown, and looked up with a timid loving smile in her face, such as no .human being ever wore when looking there. Poor Miss Stebbins ! those stern, harsh features only daguerreotyped too faithfully the desolate, arid heart beneath them ; and that heart with its dry fountain, was a true type of her life, with the only flower of hu man affectiOn which had blossomed many years before, along its bleak, barren high way. She never seemed to love anybody, unless it was her brother William, who was a favor ite with everybody: but he went to sea, and had never been heard of since. Sally had always been astray sheep amongthe family; but dark hours and at last death, came upon all the rest, and so "the homestead fell into her hands. Stich -was the brief verbal his tory of Miss Stebbins' life, which I received from Aunt Mary, who closed it there in rigid adherence to her favcirite maxim, - never to speak evil of her neighbors. But that summer afternoon, there came the patter of children's feet along the walk which led ,to Miss Stebbins' front door; and at tlie same moment, the angel with golden edged wings came down from its blue sky home into i\liss Stebbins' parlor. ' She raised her, head and saw them, two weary looking little children, with golden hair and blue eyes, Standing' hand in hand under the little portico, and then that terma-' gant scowl darkening her forehead, she asked with a sharp, disagreeable note in her _voice, like the raw breath in the north-east wind: " Well I I should like to know what you want standing here ?" " Please ma'am," said the boy in a timid, entreating voice, which ought to have found its way straight into any heart, "little sister and I feel very tired, -ler we have walked a long way. Will you let us sit down on the steps and rest ourselves a little -while ??? " No, I can't have children, loafing around on my premises," said Miss Stebbins, with the same vulgar sharpness of "tone which had characterized her • preceding - reply.— Moreover, the sight of any of the miniature specimens of _her race seemed always fated to arouse her belligerent propensities. "So just take yourselves' off; and the quicker the betterv'twill be for you." ' - " Don't stay any longer, Willie, .I am. afraid," whispered the little.girl, with a tre mor rippling thi:ough her voice, as she pulled significantly at her brothar'S coat sleeve. " Willie! Willie That was' your bro ther's 'name ; = don't you remember 2" the angel- bent down. and whispered very softly in the harsh woman's ear ; and all the time his hand was gliding down' in her heart, searching for the hidden fountain. You must have been- about- that little girl's' age when you and he used to go trudging, down into the meadows' together, searching for sweet flag root. And you Used to keep tight hold of his: hand, just as she does. Oh ! how tired you used to get! Don't you re member.the old brown house wh,ere nobody lived but starving rats and swarmS of wasps, who made their nests there in the summer time ? And you used to sit down on the steps that the worms had eaten in so many places, and 'rest there. llow lie loved you, and how careful he was always to give you the best seat, and .then he never spoke one cross word to you, though, everybody else'did. Now, if- you should let those children sit down and rest, just as you and Willie did, on the brown step, you could keep, a sharp eye on them - and this time that spiteful little note in her voice was not quite so promi-. nent: " Here you may sit down on that corner a little while : but mind you don't stir ; for if you do, you'll have to budge." HUNTINGDON, PA., JULY 28,. 1858. Weittf .`'~ =PERSEVERE: "Little sister," said the boy, in a low tone, after they. were seated, "lay your head here, and try to go to sleep." ,The little girl laid her head, with its slower of golden bright curls on her bro ther's breast; but the nest moment she raised it, saying "I can't sleep, brother, I am so thirsty." " Don't you remember, that day you and Willie went into the woods after blackberries, and how you lost your way groping in the twilight of the forest ?" again whispered the angel, with his hand all the time feeling for the fountain. ' ." You found an old lightning-. blasted tree, and you sat down on it, and he put hi, arm around you just so, and said, `Try and go to sleep, little sister.' And you couldn't, you were so thirsty ; for you had walked full three miles. Who knows but what these children have too ?" There was a little pause after the angel had said this, and then Miss Stebbins rose up and went into her pantry, where the shelves were all of immaculate whiteness, and she could see her face in the brightly scoured tin. .She brought out whitepiteher, and going into the garden, she filled it at the spring. - Returning, she poured some of the contents into a cup that stood on the table, and carried it to the children; and she really held it to the little girl's lips all the time she was drinking Farther and farther down in the heart of the woman crept the hand of the angel ; nearer t%the fountain it drew. Miss Stebbins went back to her sewing, but somehow, her fingers did not fly as nim bly as usual. The memories of bygone years were rising out of their mouldy sepulchres ; but all freshly they came before her, with none of the grave's rust and dampnesss upon them. "That little boy's eyes, when he thanked you for the water, looked just like Willie's used to," once more whispered the angel bending down close to Miss Stebbins' ear.— "And his hair looks like Willie's too, as he sits there with the sunbeam brightening its gold, and his arm thrown so lovingly round his sisteb's waist. There ! did you see how wistfuft he looked at the grapes, whose pur ple sines are turned towards him as they hang over the portico ? How Willie used to love grapes! and how sweet your bowls of milk and bread used to taste, after one of your rambles into the woods! If those children have walked as far as you did—and don't you see the little boy's coat, alad the little girl's faded frock all cov ered !with dust ? they must be very hungry, as well•as tired and thirsty. Don't you re member that apple pie you baked this morn ing I never saw a pie done fo a finer brown in my life. How sweet it would taste to those little tired things, if they could only get a piece here in the parlor, where the flies and the sun would not keep tormenting them all the time 2" - A moment after, Miss Stebbins. had stolen with noiseless steps to,the pantry, and cut ting out two generous slices from her apple pie, she placed them in saucers, returned to the front door and. said to the children: "You may come in here, and sit down on the stools by the fire place and eat some pie ; but you must mind and not drop any crumbs on the floor." It was very strange, but the old harsh tones had almost left her voice. The large, tempting slices were placed, in ,the little, hands eagerly uplifted to receive them ; and at that moment out from the lip of the foun tain, out from the dust which lay. heavy on its seal, there came a single drop, and it fell down upon Miss Stebbins' heart. It was the first which had fallen there for years:-----' Ah, the angel had found the fountain there ! The softened woman went back to her seat, and the angel did not bend down and whis per in her ear again; . but all the time his hand was.busy at its work. "Where is 'your home, children ?" inquired MisS Stebbins, after she bad watched for awhile with a new, pleasant, enjoyment the children, as they dispatched with a hungry avidity their pie. - "Mary and I haven't any home now. • We had one before papa died a great way over the sea," answered the boy. "And where arc you going now ? and what brought you and your-little sister over the sea?" still'further queried the now inter-' ested woman. • "Why, you see, ma'am, just before papa died he called old Tony to him—nOW Tony was a black man and had al Nv'ays lived with us"—`Tony' said he, 'I am going to die; and you know I have lost everything, and the children -will be alone in the world- But, Tony, I had.a sister once that I loved, and she loved me; and though I haven't seen her fora great many years, still I know she-loves me if she's Jiving just as well as she did when she and I used to go hand in hand through the apple orchard to school ; and Tony, when I am dead and buried, I want you_ to sell the furniture, and take the money it brings you, and carry the children back to England. You'll find, her name .and the place she used • 'to live, in a - Paper—which anybody will read fur you—in the drawer there. And Tony, when you find her, just take Willie and Mary-to her, and tell her "I was their father, 'and that I' sent - thein to her on my death - bed, and ask her fo-be'a mother to them for my sake. It will beTenough To ny to tell her that.' And Tony cried, real loud, and he said, 'Massa, if I forget one word of What you have said, may God' for give me.' Well papa died, and after he was buried, Tony brought little sister and I over the wa ters. But before we got here Tony was taken with the fever, and he died a little while after the ship- reached the land and they carried him on shore. But just before ho died, he 'called me to him and put a piece of paper in my hand. 'Don't lose it - Willie" said he, 'fur poor Tony's going and you'll have to find the way to your aunt's all alone. The money is all spent too, and they say its a. good hundred miles to the place where she lives. But keep up a good heart, and ask the folks the way, and for something to eat When you arc hungry; and don't walk to many miles a day, cause little sister ain't strong. _ i 1 - 's-'-‘,.ki;,f, ::i!: ‘'.'' - ‘i:.'.'.. i ......:, ..,. .. ~...z.., :!,..01 ~.w.. .....: 1 4 , Perhaps somebody ,will help you on with a ride, or let you stay in their house at night. Now dont forget, Willie, and shake hands for the last time with poor Tony.' After that we stayed at the inn till the next day, when they buried Tony, and when they asked us what we were going to do, we told them we were going to our - aunt's -for papa bad sent us to her, and they then let us go. When we asked folks the way they told us, though they always stared and sometimes shook their heads. We got two rides and always got a place to sleep. They said our aunt lived round here ; but we got so tired walking we had to stop." "And what was your father's name," asked Miss Stebbins," and somehow there was a choking in her throat, and the band of the angel was placed on the fountain as she spoke. Stebbins. and our aunt's name is Sally Stebbins. Please ma'am do you know her." Off at that moment came the seal, and out leaped a fresh blessed tide of human affec tion, and fell down upon the barren heart soil, that grew fertile in a moment. ! my brother William !". cried Miss Stebbins, as she sprang towards the children with outstretched arms, and tears raining fast down her cheeks. "Oh,.for your sake I wilt be a mother to them." A year had passed away; college vacation had come again, and once more . cousin Ned was at our house. In the summer gloaming we went to walk, and our way lay past Miss Stebbins cottage. As we drew near the wick et, the sound of merry child laughter rip pled gleefully to our cars and a moment after from behind that very rose tree so disagree ably associated with its owner in Cousin Ned's mind, bounded two golden haired ch lid Ten. " Come, Willie ! Mary ! you have made wreaths of my roses until they are well nigh gone. Yon must gather violets after this 1" "ffirable dictu."' ejeculated cousin Ned.— "Is that the woman who gave me such a blessing a long time ago for plucking a half withered rose from that very tree ?" "The very same, Cousin Ned," I answer ed ; and then I told him of the change which had come over the harsh woman, of her lore and her gentleness, and her patience, for the orphan children of her brother ; and that, after all there was a fountain very far down in her heart, as there was in everybody's, if we could only find it. "Well, cousin Nelly," said he, "I'll agree to become a convert to your theory without further demurring, if you'll promise to tell me where to find a hidden fountain that lies very far down in a dear little somebody's heart, and whose precious waters are only rrushinc , for me." There was a glance, half arch, half loving, from those dark, handsome eyes, which made me think cousin Ned knew he would not have to go very far to find it. The principal condition requisite for the maintaining the body in health and strength, are cleanliness, exercise, and suitable food and dress. We shall at present speak of CLEANLiNEss.=-Personal purity is so essen tial to a refined woman, that it is wonderful it should not be more thoroughly and univer sally practised than it is. A lady would be shocked to be seen with dirty face or soiled hands f but it does not strike her that every part of the skin equally needs ablution.. The reason of this is, that all the surface of the skin, from the sole of the foot to the-crown Of the bead, is so covered with the pores, through which all the waste or injurious par ticles of the body are thrown off in the forth of insensible perspiration, that a pin's point cannot be run in anywhere without touching one. When these pores are choked up, from want of cleanliness, 'fever and many other diseases are liable to ensue. Hence the ne cessity, in which all medical men agree, for every part of the. person to be thoroughly sponged over once every day. No bed-room should be without the means for doing this, if a large bath cannot be bad. A sponge of the coarse sort called_ honey-comb is better than a fine one, as it holds more water, and almost can be used for a shower-bath. Cold water gives afar more invigorating bath than tepid ;.but those who are not 'Very early in ured to it must begin it, cautiously. The feet should never be set in cold water before the face, neck, and upper - part, of the body have been well sponged with the same. But-some constitutions can never bear the shock ofeold water, and then tepid must be used. In both cased, a healthy glow must be produced by friction with a coarse rough towel, or a flesh brush; A little spirits of wine thrown into cold water, the first morning or two, will generally prevent. the bather from taking cold. - • The hands, nails and teeth, must always be carefullya ttended to. The teeth demand the greatest care, and should be washed after every meal, as well as the last thing at night. Pure cold or terpid water is said to be the best thing in a gneral way, with a little charcoal or white Aap occasionally. A, visit should. be paid to a dentist once every six months. Nothing adds so much to•the 'charm . of a woman's appearance as flue hair ; and the most beautiful will be spoiled by neglect. It should be thoroughly brushed every night, and washed occasionly with soft water and the yolk of eggs, which has-all the cleansing power of soap without its harehness. , . Those who wear curls should never roll the hair in stiff' paper of any sort, and especially not in newspapers, as the roughness breaks the hair. The ends should be cut every fortnight. Great care .should be taken of the nails.— Those of the feet reqUire even more than the. finger-nails, as they are liable to grow in with the pressure of hoots, - and to cause serious in convenience; they should be pared away at the sides, and, those of the hands allowed to form a point in the centre: , The skin should be carefully rubbed back to give the nail the long almond-like' form which is thought so great a. beauty ; this should• be done every time they. are washed. Editor and Proprietor. Personal Cleanliness The institution of the Sabbath, whether regarded as of human policy or divine ordi nance, is one of the most beautiful and bless ed inheritances of than. It lice a divinitY in its adaptation to the - material necessities of our race—as a day of rest, in which to re fresh and recreate the wearied energies of the body—but the higher divinity lies in the divorce it brings to, the; spirit, from the. pur suit and care Of temporaland Corrupting things, leadin g it-to.ivelearer and nearer con templation of God, its relation to the imma terial,`and its destiny. beyond this :fleeting life. Its periodical frequency grasps the soul in firm bonds, and hemming it around in as sociations in unison with its - acknowledged sacredness, has done more to discipline the mind, and purify the" heart of society, Mina all the problems of proud and shifting ._ _ , osophy; - - - • Like the sublime lessons of Christ, the Sabbath contains the profoundest proofs of its origin in the wisdom and goodness of God, in its common acceptance- by enlightened men, and the fullness of satisfaction it gives to his soul and body longings. Between na tions and races who Observe, and those who do not observe the Sabbath; there is drawn a line, on the opposite borders of which, alike, rests the evidence of its beauty_ and benefi cence. On the Sabbath side are civilization, intelligence, industry, art, science, peace and prosperity—man elevated truly and nobly in the - image of God. On - the other side are barbarism, ignorance, superstition, war and misery—man degrading the image of God: The Sabbath is not arbitrary nor convenz tional. The more intelligently it is observed, the more necessary, harmonious and beauti ful it appears; and its' temporal economy however great, becomes secondary and insig= nificant contrasted with its spiritual good.— Let any man, let singphilOSOpher contemplate the obliteration of the Sabbath, and see what a. picture society must soon present. Philoso phy tried the experiment once, with one "of the most intellectual and philosophical of na tions, and the result of the trial taught the world that man cut loose from the Sabbath, is cut loose from God. Atheism itself,-deny incr God, has eulogized the institution of the Sabbath as the fruit of supreme wisdom.---; As members of a Christian community, we have all witnessed and felt the elevating in fluence of this Day of days, and can need no special argument to commend. Its - reverent observance. , NO, 5. Description of Great Salt Lake , . [From the Rome (N. Y.) Sentinel.] As the Great Salt Lake of the Mormons has of late years become a place of interest to the people of this 'country, I send 'you an extract of a letter from a resident of that place, giving some description of it; "The lake is on the west side of the valley, eighty miles long, forty miles wide, without sink or outlet. The deepest water is forty one feet, interspersed with islands, mostly at; the north end, two at the south end, one twenty miles long, the other fifteen ; on the east islatid, brother Parr keeps a herd of some fine cattle, a fine rancho, plenty of wa ter, plenty of wood. The best island (Stan bury's) has very little wood and fresh water, but fine grass; cattle summer and winter on these islands, making the fattest beef I ever saw. I have boiled salt at the south end of the lake, called Black Rock, for five years.— There is on a mountain some forty miles north, bordering on the lake, any amount of copperas and alum. Three years ago, (755)• three pails of water,made one of salt. The' lake has risen seven feet in five years I It now takes nearly five pails of water to-make one of salt; so that not much salt makes on the . beach now. Four years ago I loaded tk wagon in two hours, as handsome coarse'salt as you ever saw, and as good quality. The water is impregnated with glauber salts, lime, copperas, alum, muriatic acid, &c.— The salt springs issue from the foot of . the mountains. There is not a pure fresh water' spring on the whole of the South end. - The' spring which we use from is too mulch flavor ed to suit strangers. It is a wild, romantic place, but I love it, it is my home—we were' driven from our homes by a band of ruffians, that would give us no rest day or night,' here we can sleep sweetly amid the dashing of the Waves ; the howl of the wolf, and the grisly bear, and the yell of the savage." Her self-sacrificing•disposition is, after all, the most touching element of the - French wo- - man's character. In her solicitude for her' 1 sick child, in-her devotion to an unfortunate husband, in her attachment tea down-striek en father, Orin her anxiety - for a brother in' danger, the French woman is an angel of mercy. No matter whether the character of the sufferer may deserve so much. sympathy or not, the suffering alone is sufficient to fill her heart with gentle sympathies, and to crowd her heart - with' tender thoughts.—: Again, the contrast. which the intensity of devotion presents to her nonclialanie, is as great as that which -the French women` of the Garonne present; who; during the harvest time, attend to the rude labors :of the' field, while in the fall they devote themselves to delicate attentions in the sick room. Again, we find the French woman, in cases of-need, frequently supporting her family by work If statistics on this point are ever published, we dare say many will. be surprised to• see . such a large number of French women taking the leading part in - commercial establish ments ; presiding over offices and' sets - . of works, and employed 'in- superintendingtlie designs of the manufactories of porcelain, at Sevres, and of silks, at Lyons, and: attending to various other departments of -linsineSs.-- Our observation has satisfied us, that the mo tive for undertaking such Work, in many eases, is rather of an affectionate than' an egotistical character—a disabled or imbecile husband, .a.ne.edy.mother, or an invalid fath er, the growing-expenses of a growing family —in most cases, her work seems to.be proinpt ed by feelings of devotion' to one or the other person endeared to' her. Her innate',tastO and tact are powerful auxiliaries to a I?reneh woman; but there is.alsolhe pleasure which she finds in the self-imposed task of love that sanctifies her labor. . Iteir" When •ri stranger treats' me with - want of respect," said a philosophiCal poor man,•".l- comfort myself with, the reflection. that it is not myself. he slights, but . my old and shabby coat and hat, which,. to . say the trilth, have no particular claim to admiration. So if my hat and coat choose to fret about it, let them, but it is : nothing.to nat." 2;te-A teetotaller, the other day asked a neighbor if he were not inclined to the Tern.: perance Society, and he replied, "Yes; for when he saw liquor his mouth watered." Virginia paper describes a . fence down there,• which is made- of such crooked rails that every time a pig crawls through he: comes out'on the other side. The Day of Daya. The French Woman