TERMS OF THE GLOBE.
Per annum in advance
Six months
Three months
. .
A failure to notify a diecontinuanee at the expiriation of
the termaubseribed fbr will be consbieredt a new engage
ment.
TERMS OF ADVERTISING
Four lines or less,
One square, (12 lilies.)...
Two squares,
Three squares, ' 1 50 2 25 3 00
'Over three week and; less than three months, 25 cents
per squiare for each insertion.
Sik lines or less,
Ono square,
Two squares,..
Three squares,
Four squicres,.
'Half a column, -.12 oa 16 00 24 00
One column, '' , o 00 30 00 50 00
. Professional 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. .
r ~TIIny GOODS!' NEW GOODS!!
A T
D. -P. GWIN'S CHEAP STORE
'D. P. GAVIN leas just returned froin Pldladelpliia 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 Gentlemen ; Black
and Fancy Silks, all Wool Delaines, (all colors,) Spring De
lains, Braize Delanes, liraizes,
all colors ; 'llehaize, Lovella
Cloth. Alpacca, Plain and Silk Warp, Printed Berages.
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,
Reed and Brass Hoops, Silk and Linen andk.erctiiefs, Neck-
Ties ' Stocks, Zepher, French Working Cotton, Linen and
Cotton Floss, Tidy Yarn, B.:c.
Also, the best and cheapest assortment of Collars anti
Budersleves in town ; Barred and Plain Jaconet, Mull Mus
lin. Swiss. Plain, Figured and (lotted Skirts, Belts, Mar
sallies for Capes, and a variety of White Goods too nmner
cam to 1111111 Uoll.
SPRING SHAWLS, THIBET SHAWLS, MANTILLAS, ,F,:c
Also, Cloths, Cassimers, Cassincts. K. Jean, Cot. Drills,
Tiekings, Nankeen, Table Diapers, S:c.
Also a large lot of Bonnets, Flats, and Hats : at low pri
ces.
BOOTS aril SHOES, the largest and cheapest assortment
in town.
HARDWAIIE, QUEENSWARE, BUCKETS, CHURN'S,
TUBS,BUTTER BOWLS, BROOMS. BRUSHES, &c. CAR
PETS and OIL CLOTH. FISH, SALT. SUGAR, COFFEE,
TEA, MOLASSES, and all goods usually kept in acountry
store. . ' •,
My old customers, and a.s many new ones as can crowd
in, are respectfully requested to call and exam sse my goods.
All kinds of Country Produce taken in exchange, at
the Highest Market Prices,
April 21, 1858,
VEW STORE !—NEW GOODS ! !
FISHER. & 111c11IURTJEUE having re
--.
opf•ned the METR.OPOLITAN, formerly known as "Saxton's,"
take pleasure in announcing to their many-friends, that
they have received a new and well selected Stock of HOODS,
which they feel confident will satisfy the demands of the
and will prove unexceptionable ill Style and fin«iity.
The line of Dress G,rnds embraces Robes
A•gante. in Organdies, Lawns. Percales. &c.. Chaloys. Be
r.tges, Brilliants, all Wool DeLaines. Craven."' Mohair, Dan
ubian, Tamise and Lavella Cloths, Dellage Lustros, Alpac
can, Prints, Gingham.. &c.
We have a fine assortment of Summer
Shawls, Mantillas Dress Trimmings, Fringes, Antique's,
Ribbons. Mitts, doves, Gauntlets, hosiery, Ladies Collars.
hathlkerehiers. Buttons, Floss Sewing Silk. Whalebones
for Skirts, Reed Hoops, Brass ditto, Skirt Cord, &c.
Also—Tickings, Osatburg, Bleached :Intl
Unbleached Marlins. all prices; Colored and White Cam
brics. Barred and Swiss Ml , ll'llB, Victoria Lawns, Nahl.
cooks, Tarleton. and many other articles lthich comprise
the line of Wiwi% and DOMESTIC ROODS.
We hare French Cloths, Fancy Cassinter-:, Satinets, Jeans
Tweeds, Cottonaftes, Linens, Denims and Blue Drills.
Hats, Caps, and Bonnets, of every variety
null Style. Also. a large assortment of all kinds of Strew
Goods. .
A Good Stock of G VOCEIZT ES. HARDWARE. QUEENS
WARE, BOOTS and SHOES : WOOD and WI LLOW-WAlt
Nellie!' will be sold Che«p.
ahat •teal it: PLASTER: S r.T. aml all kinds
of GRAINS. and possess facilities in this branch of trade
unequalled by any. We deliver all packages or parcels of
Merchandise free of charge at the Depots of the Broad Top
and Pennsylvania Railroads.
COMP: ONE, COME ALL, and he convinced that the Me
tropolitan is the place to secure fashionable anti desirable
gocsb4, disposed of at the lowest rates.
, April 14, 1858.
1 _, --- con EVERYBODY.
TRY TILE NEW STORE,
On mu Street opposite Miles d Dorris' Office
THE BEST
SUGAR and MOLASSES.
COFFEE. TEA and CHOCOLATE.
FLOUR, FISH, SALT ;111(1 VINEGAR,
CONFECTIONERIES. CIGARS and TOBACCO,
SPICES OF THE REST, AND ALL KINDS,
and every other article usually found in a Grocery Store
ALSO— Drugs, Chemicals, Dye Stnffs.
Paints, Varnishes Oils and Spts. Turpentine,
}Mid. Alcohol. Glass and Putty,
BEST WINE and BRANDY for medical purposes.
ALL THE BEST PATENT MEDICINES.
and a large number of articles too munterom to mention.
The public generally will please call and examine for
themselves and learn my prices. ' _ _
Huntingdon, May 25, 1858
HUNTINGDON HOTEL.
The subscriber respectfully announces to liis friends
and the public generally, that he has leased that old and
well establishe4 TAvkuN STAND, known as the
Huntingdon house, on the corner of Hilt and e kl'
Charles Street, in the Borough of Huntingdon.— B
He his fitted np the House in such a style - as to '
render it very comfortable for lodging Strangers and Tray
elers.
HIS TABLE will always be stored with the best the sea
son eau afford. to suit the tastes and appetites of his guests.
HIS HAI: w ill always be tilled with Choice Liquors, and
BIS . STABLE always attended by careful and attentive
Ostlers.
- lie hopes-by strict attention to business amla spirit
of accommodation, to merit and receiye a; liberal share of
public patronage.
- Dlay 12, 1858—ly
A TTENTION ALL ! !
JUST ARRIVED-
A kit'LENDID STOCK OF BOOTS AND SHOES,
FOR LADIES AND GENTLIZIEN,
:S.IISSFS, BOYS AND CHILDREN.
, For Men and Boys' Fine Boots, call at
WESTBROOK'S 'Wotan(' Shoe Store
For Ladies and Misses Gaiters and shoes, call at
WESTBROOK'S
For Children's Shoes of all kinds, call nt
wESTBROOK'S
For Men and Boys' Coarse Boots and Shoes. mil 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 $2.25, call on
Illiatingdati, May 5,1855
ALEXANDRIA FOUNDRY
The Alexandria Foundiy has been
bought by R. C. MciflLL, and is in blast, 411041
and have kinds of Castings, Stoves, Ma-7... ; e 4 „,1fi1 i ,
rhines, Plows, Kettles, &c., &c., which he wing.Mt.c
Will sell at the lowest prices. All kinds !"',Pl!!!!"51.
of - Country Produce and old- Metal taken in exchange for
Castings, at market prices,
1855
COUNTRY DEALERS can
. buy CLOTHING from nic in Huntingdon at
WHOLESALE ai clieap es they can in the
pities, as I have a 14110;s:de store hi Philadelphia.
Huntingdon, April 14, iSSS. 11. ROMAN.
VARNISH ! !
ALL KINDS , warranted good, for sale at
ISKOWN'§ llardu•arc Store,
I ND titigdon,
April 28, LSZa-tr
T4ADIES; - ATTENTION !—My assort
ment of beautiful dress goods is now open ' awl ready
for inspection. Every article of dress you may desire, can
ti.! found at my store. D. P. GWIN.
11 ARDWARE!
A . Large Stock, justreceived, and for side at
BRICKER'S MAMMOTH STORE
THE MAMMOTH STORE
a l 0- ty e: Ladies Dress G..
T RRICKER'S Mammoth Store is the
place to get the we rth of your money, in Dry Goods,
Hardware, Groceries, ice,, &c.
•
TIOUGLASS & SHERWOOD'S Mit
a Jr' ent Extension Skirts, for snle only by
FISILEIL-& 11101ERTRIE.
Arerfoqt(eated to call and gamine tho Elardwam,
ttc., at . • .--,. • 1 ERTO.I'S Af4312110T11 STORE.
el ROCERIES; ••
13i. Of the best. always ready for customers, at
J. BRICKEIt'S MAMMOTH STORE
HEAT!
For sale at
$1 50
1 insertion
1 00....
2 do. 3 do.
$ 37 1 / 2 ' $ 50
75 1 00
1 50 2 00
3 months. 6 months. 12 months.
...$1 50 $3 00 $5,00
... 3 00 5 00 7 00
5 00 8 00
7 00 10 00
9 00 13 00
-30 00
-15 00
....20 00
D. P. GWIN
S. S. SMITIL
P. McATEER
'WESTBROOK'S
LEVI IrESTII ROOK
it. C. McGILL
D. P. GWIN'S.
WILLIAM, LEWIS,
VOL. XIV.
c itittt ottrg.
IT ISN'T ALL IN WRINGING UP.
It isn't all in "bringing up,"
Let folks say what they will:
To silver scour a pewter cup,
It will be pewter still.
E'en he of old, wise Solomon,
Who said " train up a child,"
If I mistake not, had a son
Proved rattle-brained and wild
A man of mark, who fain would pass
Fur lord of sea and land,
May have the training of a son,
And bring him np full grand:
May givit him all the wealth of love,
Of college and of school,
But after all, they make no more
Than ju,,t a decent fool.
Another mired by Penury,
Upon her bitter bread,
Whose road to knowledge is like that
The good to llearen must tread.
He's got a PSI rk of nature's light,
Ife'll fan it to a flame,
Till in it's burning letters, bright,
The world may read his name.
If it were all in "bringing up,"
In council and restraint,
Some rascals had been honest men—
I'd been myself a saiint.•
Oh ! it isn't all iu "bringing up,"
Let folks say what they will;
:Neglect may dim a silver cup—
It will be silver still.
cttct torsi.
[From Artlmes Home Magazine.]
THE PRISONER'S CHILD
BY MRS. MARY A. DENISON
It was early in the morning.
" Is this the way to Sing Sing?"
"Yes," roughly replied a brown-faced coun
tryman, and passed on.
It was afternoon. The child was somewhat
fragile in her appearance. Her bonnet ivas
of broken straw; her shoes were much torn :
the suu played hotly on her tender forehead.
She walked on and on an hour longer.
“Is this the way to Sing Sing ?"
"Yes, little girl; but what are you going
there for 2" •
The child trudged on, her lip quivering,
but not deigning to answer the pleasant-faced
old man who .had stopped-the jogging of his
horse to note her hurried manner, and who
liked that little face, anxious and sad as its
expression was.
The dew was falling. Katy had almost
fallen too. A rough stone by the way im
bedded in moss, received her tired little
frame. She looked so wearied and aged, sit
ting there, her tangled hair falling on the
hands that were clasped over her face ! By
the shaking of her frame, the tears were com
ing too, and she wns bravely trying to hold
them back.
" Why I what is* this dear little girl doing
here ?"
The exclamation came from a pair of eager
young lips.
"A curiosity ! I declare !" exclaimed a
harsher voice, and Katy, looking up sudden
ly, cowered away from the sight of the pretty
young girl and her most agreeably compan
ion.
"What ever you are doing here, little girl?"
asked Nell Maywood, moving a little nearer
towards the frightened child.
" Going to Sing Sing," said Katy, in a scar
ed way.
"Did you ever, George 1 this child is going
to Slug Sing; why it's ten miles off. Child,
did you know it was so far off?"
Katy shook her hood, and wiped away the
hot and heavy tears one by one.
"Why, yes, you poor little g oose. What
are you going to Sing Sing for? Have you
had your supper ?"
Katy shook her head.
"Have you had any dinner ?"
Again the sad child shook her head.
"Nor breakfast? Why George, the poor
little thing must be almost starved I"
" I should think so;" mechanically replied
her brother, just recovering from a yawn,
and showing signs of sympathy.
" Look here; what's your name? Well,
Katy, you must come up to the house and get
something to eat. Going to Sing Sing on
foot ; dear me how ridiculous ! follow me Ka
ty,• and we'll take care of you to-night,
somehow, and see about your going to Sing
Sing to-morrow."
Katy followed. What a glorious vision
burst upon her view I The palace house ;
the rocks reddening in the low western sun ;
the shining:river; the signs of luxury on every
band..
They walked up a wide avenue. Elms and
oaks threw their pleasant branches on each
side ; here and there a pretty flower bush
might•be seen ; vines grew around the no
ble pillars, twisting up to the glittering win
dows.,
" Susan, give the child a good supper; she.
is very hungry, and tired, too, I imagine.—
After that, I will see what can be done for
her."
Susie wore a mild face. She looked pleas
antly down at the poor, tired little one, and
taking her hand, which• trembled now, led
her into the kitchen. •
Meanwhile, her story, or that brief part of
which we know, was being told in the draw
ing -room. The sylph figure in white loung
ing graceftilly in the midst of delicate cush
ions, accompanied - her narration with ex
pressive. gestures, and now and then a little
laugh.
"I should like to know what she is going
to Sing Sing for ?" she said leaning languid
ly back. "We must get her tip something
to wear—a bonnet, a pair of shoes ; and then
maybe, we can manage to have her carried
some way, if her mission is of any impor
tance. Oh! such . a very 'odd-looking little
thing."
"Who is that, my daughter ?"
~t
~ ~,~Y
"Oh, papa, you are come home; why, I was
talking about a mite of a child; she can't be
more than ten, if that. I saw her sitting on
moss-rock; the most forlorn object. She says
she is going to Sing Sing."
"I met her on my way," said the pleas
ant faced old man ; " she' asked me about it,
and I would have stopped her but she trudg
ed on. Where is she ? . It was noon when I
saw her."
side with-a tender clasp, the warden follow
ing. Another tramp, and at last they came
to a stand still. The jailor rapped at a cell
door. Slowly the figure of a man with a
harsh; hair-covered face appeared.
"Here's your little girl come to see you,"
said the jailor.
"Little girl! hem ! you're green, said the
man, in gram accents ; I've got no ittle girl,
or you wouldn't catch me here."
"Father," said the childish voice. It sound
ed so sweet, so childish, in that terrible pris
on. Bun, as the scowling face came closer
to the bars, the child hid her head quickly
in the jailor's arm—it wasn't him:
"We'll try the next one." He walked fur
ther on, and spoke more pleasantly this time.
"Well, Bondy, here is little Kate; don't you
want to see her ?"
"Little Katy"—there was a long pause.—
"I had a Katy once—not a little Katy--I
broke her heart—God pity me. Go on, it
can't be for me."
Again the sweet voice rang out "Father."
The prisoner came close to the bars ; a
youthful face, framed with light wavy hair;
a face in which the blue eyes looked inno
cent; a face that it seemed a sin to couple
with a foul deed, looked out. It saw the
child's earnest, pleading, tearful eyes ; a
dark expression rolled like a wave across his
brow ; a groan came up from his bosom, and
with a low moan he staggered against his
bed, crying, "take her away ; I can't stand
the sight of anything pure like that."
Katy had bidden her face a second time,
as she feebly cried, "it isn't him ;" so they
kept on to the third cell.
"Jim, here's a little girl, little Katy, your
daughter, wants to see you."
A stupid "what!" came from the bed; the
man had probably just awakened.
"Your little daughter I"
There was a sound of rattling irons that
made the child shiver. Dimly appeared the
face and outlines of a well-made man—coun
tenance handsome, but evil. He seemed not
to comprehend. But as fastas his chains would
permit him, he came forward and looked out
at the face below. It was almost too much
for the child. With a loud, convulsive cry,
she exclaimed, "Father! Father !" and fell
nearly senseless against the jailor.
"Katy 1" exclaimed the man, and there
was a nervous - twitching about the muscles
of the mouth, "What in 'leaven's name has
brought her here ?"
The jailor was calling the child to con
sciousness.
"Shall we let her in the cell ?" asked the
warden.
Jim was dashing his hand across his face.
A ,smotherecl "yes" issued from his lips.—
They opened theponderous door and put the
"Mr. Warden, there's a queer case over child within." Her arms were outstretched;
h
at my house." said a blulf-looking fellow, his were wide open, and they came together
meeting the warden of Sing Sing prison.—
with a clanking sound, about the form of
"We found her last night in some out of the that poor little child.
way place, and nothing would do but wife "Oh, Father!"
"
"
must take her in. We can't find out her Oh, Katy, Katy ! and then there was a
name, except that it is Katy, and I expect quiet crying. By and by the man lifted up
she wants to see somebody in the prison.—
the little head whose glossy curls were fall-
But we can't
ing on his shoulders, and oh, what a sharp
get anything out of her; where
rattle of the chains smote on the ear, and
she came from, or anything about it."
"Bring her over here," said the warden, looked in her face. After a moment's irreso
lution, he kissed her, and then his head fell
"my wife is wanting a little girl for help;
maybe she's just the one." So Katy stood, under her earnest, loving look.
trembling more than ever, in a few moments Katy, what made you come ?
,
in the presence of the warden and jailor. "Wanted to see you, father," and the head
Katy was a pretty child. Her large blue'
14. as on his shoulder again...
"
eyes wore an expression of intense melan-"',' How did you come, Katy ; never mind
her hair had been nicely combed and
choly
the noise,. they are locking up ; they will be
•
curled,' and some one had put a pair of shoes here again, and let you out; how did you
on her feet. come, Katy ?"
"Well, my little girl," said the warden "I walked here."
"
kindly, for he was prepossessed in her favor, "From New York, child ?
""
"where have you come from?" Yes, father !
-
"New York," said the child, faintly. There was no sound, save that of the
The men looked at each other incredulous-
chains, as he strained her closer to his
bosom.
"And how did you leave—her—Katy—
your mother ?" -
The ,question was fearfully asked, but not
responded to. lie gazed eagerly in the
child's face ; , her little lips were quivering.
"Katy, tell me quick !"
"She died, Father I"
A groan, a terrible groan followed ; the
convicts head fell in the lap of his child, and
he wept with strong cries. The jailor and
the warden said that they never saw - a sight
so woful. And the child tried to comfort
him till his strength seemed to be gone, and
his sobs were like gasps.
"Oh, Katy, when did she die ? Oh, my
poor Mary ! my poor girl 1"
"Ever so long ago, I guess, ever so many
weeks," replied the child ; "but she told me
to come and see you, and comfort you."
"Oh, God I" this is hard ; she always for
gave
me."
" She told me to pray for you, too ; she
told me to ask you would you be real good I
after you come out, and meet her in heaven."
"In Heaven 1 I in Heaven," groaned the
man, giving way again to. his agony. The
child was angel guided. Her soft touch was
better for his soul's good, than the strifes and
the chains: He had been hardened ; her lit
tle love had melted down the adamant; had
found the locked-up-good of his nature, and
she had sent her sweet smiles through its
prison door. Long he sat there, his head in
the lap of his beautiful, quiet 'child. None
dared distub him; jailor and warden walked
to and fro.
"Father, when you come,out I'll take care
of you." . .
He lifted his head '
• his eyes, red with
weeping, were fastened on her face.
" Mother said I Might.". . - -
. .
"God's blessing on you my angel child ;
you may save your miserable Father. - .
"I will save yob, Father." •
The warden cleared his throat; the jailor
spoke roughly to one of the prison - ers it was_
to hide his emotion. " You had better' come
now, he added, going to the cell. '
" Katy, you must go ; will you come again,
my child ?"
. ~.
"Can't I stay?" • -
"No dear, but you shall come and see me
again." . . .
.
They took her gently from the dark cell ;
she sobbed very quietly. In the warden's
room stood a pleasant faced old mans
"In the kitchen, papa. 'Susan is taking
good care of her I expect, and when she .has
had a good hearty supper we will talk with
her."
A gay trio of young girls came in. The
nettings were put up the gas burned bright
ly; and music and mirth banished all thoughts
of care. Suddenly, Nell Maywood remem
bered the little odd figure, and clapping her
hands, cried, "Oh, I've something to show
you, girls," and disappeared.
Susan was picking gooseberries near the
pantry in the kitcken.
"Where is the child, Susy ?" asked Nell
Maywood.
"On the door-step, Miss," Susan replied,
picking away.
"Why, no Susan, there's nobody here ; no
one to be seen.
" Yes Miss." Susan placed her pan down,
held her apron up to catch the sterns of the
gooseberries, and walked deliberately to the
door.
" Why she sat here some time after supper.
I turned, and came in; she was sitting there
looking up at the stars, I expect. I thought
she was a mighty quiet child ; but she's deep,
Miss Nelly ; she is gone. Let me see—there
ain't any silver around—l should be afraid
she would took something they are mighty
artful."
" Why, didn't you tell her she might stay
all night ?" Nell Maywood was peeping here
and there, to spy her if possible.
" Yes, Miss Nell ; and told her what a
good bed there was over the woodshed ; but
she looked strange out of them large eyes of
hers and never seemed to hear."
" The poor child is in trouble," said Nell
Maywood, quite sorrowful that she could not
further relieve her necessities. "I would have
given her something to wear, and we could
have sent her to Sing Sing; but, perhaps she
will come back • again, and if so, will you
send her to me ?"
" If she do, I will Miss," answered Susan
going at the berries a g ain.
But little Katy did not come back again.
She had been watching her opportunity to
get off, and had already been gone some time.
She slept in an open field ; she crawled into
some hay '
• she would have walked all night,
if she had dared ; but she , was afraid of the
darkness.
ly.
"Do you mean to say that you have come
to Sing Sing, - from New York, on foot ?"
"Yes, sir," said the child, frightened at
his manner, which had in it something of
severity.
"And what have you come for?"
"To see my father," the child burst forth
with one great sob, and for a moment her
little frame was shaken with a tempest of
feeling.
"And who is your father?" asked the war
den, kindly.
"He is Mr. Lloyd," said the child, as soon
as she could speak for her rushing sobs.
The warden looked at the jailor.
"Lloyd—there are three Lloyds here: Jim,
Bondy, and Dick," said the jailor.
Those may not be their proper names," re
sponded the warden.
"That's so," said the jailor, "but I can try
'em all. Little one, was your father's name
dim ?" •
The child nodded her head, or they thought
she did; she was so convulsed with the reac
tion brought on by the termination of her
•
journey.
"If ies. Jim, he's a bad one," said the jail
or, in a low voice : "he's in irons this morn
ing, for 'temptincr. to break jail; he don't de
serve a little galas looks like that one, the
villain. Come, child, I'll go and find your
father." •
He took Katy's shaking hand ; with the
other she dashed the tears away as fast as
they fell. It frightened her almost into
calmness„ to see the ponderous door at which
the jailor applied the great key; and the
stillness of the long stone passages, the dim
ness thrown over all, and the constant suc
cession of bars and bleak black walls, was
terrible to a sensitive mind like hers: - How
the heavy tread of the jailor, and the tread
of the warden .behind him, echoed through
the gloom and the space. t was, in truth, a
great tomb through which they had moved ;
a tomb in. which were coffined living hearts,
whose throb: could almost be heard in the
awful stillness. On,
on they went, now
through this massive door, now through that
passage-way. Everything spoke of crime,
of fierce passions subdued and held in stern
control ; everything, from the grim face of
the ferocious watch-dog, to the sentinels arm
ed.
_
Then they turned, and went up•the stairs,
the jailor holding the seared bird close to his
HUNTINGDON, PA., SEPTEMBER 22, 1858.
-PERSEVERE.-
V.
" I have come after that little girl," he
said.
"She must go home with me. take
good care of h - er ; I've heard her story; and
when her Father comes out, if he's a mind to
behave himself, I'll give him plenty to do.—
Besides that, I'll bring her up once a week to
see him. What say you, little one, will you
go with me ?" and good old Mr. Maywood
stroked her hair, as he said, pityingly, "poor
child 1 poor child V'
Reader, ten miles from Sing Sing, there is
a little cottage occupied by a laborious man
and his one daughter. Little Katy is fulfill
ing the commands of her dying mother.—
She is taking care of her father, and he thank
God, is taking care of himself. Men respect
him, and God has forgiven him.
The death of a little child is to the mother's
heart like the dew on a plant, from which a
bud has just perished. The plant lifts up
its head in freshened greenness to the morn
ing light; so the mother's soul gathers, from
the dark sorrow which she has passed, afresh
brightening of her heavenly hopes.
As she bends over her empty cradle, and
fancy brings her sweet infant before her a
ray of divine light is in her cherub face. It
is her son still, hut with the seal of mortality
on his brow. She feels that heaven is the
only atmosphere where her precious flower
could have unfolded without spot or blemish.
But the anniversary of his departure seems
to bring his spiritual presence near her.—
She indulges in that tender sort of grief
which soothes, like on opiate in pain, all hard
passages and cares of life. The world to her
is no longer filled with human love and hope
in the future, so glorious with heavenly love
and joy ; she has treasures of happiness
which the worldly, unchastened heart never
conceived. The bright fresh flowers with
which she decorated her room, are memen
toes of the far brighter hopes now drawing
her day-dream. She thinks of the glory and
beauty of the new Jerusalem, where the little
foot will never find a thorn among the flow
ers, to render a shoe necessary. Nor will a
pillow be wanted for the dear reposing on
the breast of a kind Saviour. And she
knows that her infant is there in the world of
eternal bliss.
She has marked one passage in that book,
to her emphatically the Word of Life, now
lying closed on the toilet table which she
daily reads Suffer little children to'conie
unto me, for of such is the kingdom of hea
ven."
She should be firm, gentle, kind always
ready to attend to- her child. - She should
never laugh at him—at what he does that is
cunning, never allow him to think of his
looks, except to be neat and clean in all his
habits.' She should teach him to obey a look,
to respect those older than himself; she should
never make a command without seeing that it
is performed in the right manner. Never
speak of the child's fitults or foible, or re
peat his remarks before him. It is a sure
way to spoil a child. Never reprove a child
when excited, nor let your tone of voice be
raised when correcting. Strive to inspire
love, not dread—respect, not fear. Remem
ber you are training and educating a soul for
eternity. Teach your children
-to wait upon
themselves, to put away a thing when done
with it. But do not forget that you were
once a child.
JUVENILE PROFANITY.—We know of no
vice which needs a more thorough reforma
tion than the low and vulgar practice of pro
fane swearing. It seems that boys labor
under the mistaken idea that it looks manly—
that it adds to their ephemeral importance,
and if they can place themselves behind a
cigar, and blaspheme their maker with im
punity, they are acting like men ! No one
who walks the streets of our town, in the
evening especially, can fail to perceive the
prevalence of this abominable wicked prac
tice. It appears to be on the increase. Our
schools for moral or religious instruction
seem to have done little towards the suppres
sion of a habit, the great extent of which
argues a laxity 'of morals which does no great
credit to us as a people.
A BEAUTIFUL COMPARISON.—The sun does
not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for
the wide world's joy. The lonely pine on
the mountain top, waves its sombre bough
and cries, " Thou art my sun."
And the little meadow violet lifts its cup of
blue, and whispers with its perfumed breath,
"Thou art my sun." And the grain in a
thousand fields rustles in the wind, and
makes answer, "Thou art my sun."
So God sits in Heaven, not for a favored
few, but for the universe of life; and there
is no creatures so poor or so low that he may
not look up with child-like confidence, and
say, " My Father thou art mine.",
ItEr4A thousand acts of thought, and will,
and deed, shape the features and expression
of the soul—habits of love and purity, and
truth—habits of falsehood, malice, and un
cleanness—silently mould and fashion it, till
at length it wears the likeness of God, or the
image and superscription of the Evil One.
gar.":l. believe that mine will be the fate
Of Able," said a wife - to her husband one day.
"Why so ?" inquired the husband. "Be
cause Abel was killed by a club, and your
club will kill me, if you ,continue to go to
it every night."
zar.3lrs. Partington, speaking of the rapid
manner in which deeds are perpetrated, said
that it only required two seconds to fight a
duel.
The Boston Post says that tho tobacco
chewer is like a, goose in a dutch oven—al
ways on the spit,
Dar. A man recently -walked two days run
ning and was weak a fortnight afterwards.
ler An honest man is . the noblest work of
God ; a woman is the prettiest.
Editor and Proprietor.
NO, 13,
The Empty Cradle.
Duties of a Mother
How a Prince's Fall made a Blacksmith,
Among other historical obscurities with
which Paris is filled at this moment, may bee
quoted Herr Baron G—, who, enriched
and ennobled by the King of Prussia,. rose.
from the humblest origin to a position of•
high consideration in the world..
While the present Prince of Prussia, then'
an infant some three years of age,. was stay
ing at the Palace of Babelshurs, by some ne
gligence of his nurse, he Rae left atone for a
few minutes in an apartment ori the' third
floor. With the marvellous instinct of mis
chief peculiar to children of that age, the
little Prince took immediate advantage of
the absence of • the nurse to accomplish a
feat, of which he had, doubtless, been for a
long time ambitious, and which consisted of
an agreeable walk outside the window, upon
the narrow ledge of the coping -stone, whence
he could conveniently climb up the back of
the lion rampart which supports the entabla
ture of the frontispiece that adorns the build
ing. A poor blacksmith's workman, who ,
had been sent for to execute some repairs in
the palace, was just coming up the garden,
and beheld with horror the situation of the
child. With true presence of mind he has
tened gently to the spot beneath the window,
following every movement of the urchin with
the keenest anxiety, and extended wide his
leather apron as he gazed upwards to watch
the first symptoms of giddiness which should
occur to the bold little adventurer. As the•
child drew nearer to the lion, the ledge no.
longer afforded such firm footing, and pre
sently, with a loud cry, he pitched over front
that terrible height, right into—the leather
apron of the blacksmith, who sustained the
shock without falling, and, in another me.,,
meat, the little prince was restored, safe and
well, to his royal parents, who, in token of
their gratitude, took immediate charge of
the fortunes of the brave young workman,
and bestowed upon him a handsome pension,
with the title of Baron, to both of which, he.
has done honor during a well-spent life.--
Court Journal.
,‘ I Did as the Rest Did."
A young man is invited by vicious com..
pan ions to visit the theatre,:or gambling room,.
or other haunts of licentiousness. He be
comes dissipated, spends his time, loses his.
credit, squanders property, and at last sinks
into an untimely grave. What ruined him,?.
Simply " doing what the rest did."
A father has4a family of sons. He is
wealthy. Other children in the same situa
tion of life do so and so, are indgulged in this
thing and that. He indulges his own in the ,
same way. They grow up idlers, triflers.
and fops. The father wonders why his chil
dren do not succeed better. He has spent so
much money on their education—has given.
them great advantages—but, alas I they are•
only a source of vexation and trouble. Poor'
man ; he is just paying the penalty of "doing
as the rest did."
This poor mother strives hard to bring up
her daughters genteely. They learn what
others do, to paint, to sing, to play, to dance•
and several other useful matters. In time
they marry, their husbands are unable• to.
support their extravagance, and they are soon
reduced to poverty and wretchedness. "Trtr.
ly," says she, "I did as the rest did."
The sinner, following the examples of others,.
puts off repentance and neglects to prepare•
for death. He passes along through life, till.
unawares, death strikes the fatal blow. He
has no time left now to prepare. And. he
goes down to destruction, because he was scv
foolish as to " do as the rest did."
S3IOTHERED IN A TRUNK.—The "story of
Geuevra" has been re-enacted in Brooklyn,
New Yook, by a little German boy named
George Pickner, the son of a widow who and.
denly disappeared on Friday last, and was
missing until Monday morning, when his
dead body was foundin a large trunk or chest
in the house of his.mother. On Friday when
the mother was absont,.th©, deceased was at
play with a companion,.andl evidently got
into the trunk to conceal himself, when a self
adjusting lock closed the lid upon hint, and
he was smothered. During Saturday and
Sunday the friends and neighbors looked in
every direction to find the boy, but without
success. On Monday morning the mother
was induced to open the chest by a strong
smell which seemed to emanate from it,. ex
pecting to find the body of a. rat,. but to, her
astonishment she found the body of her miss=
ing son.
CONFINED DEAD IN DWELLING lions Es.—in
point of fact, the corpse is buried in China,
wheal it is laid in its coffin. The coffin is made
of very thick heavy timber, and the joints are
all carefully closed by pasting layers of paper
over them, so as to make them perfectly air
tight. For greater security a little lime is
general put in with the corpse. In this way
it is possible to keep the confined corpse
in the house for years, without any unpleas
ant consequences. The practice, indeed, is
not uncommon. Some have not the means
at hand for burying in such style as they
would wish. They must wait for better days.
Some do not find a place to suit them. Thus
it sometimes happens, that on entering a
Chinese gentleman's house, a coffin is one of
the most prominent objects seen. among the
articles of furniture.
Cmtious PITMER.—Among the curiosities
at the Hermitage, once the home of General
Jackson, is a wooden pitcher, remarkable,
both on account of the artistic skill display
ed, and the celebrity of the tree from which
the wood was procured. It was made of the
wood from the elm tree, under which Wil
liam Penn made the celebrated Indian treaty.
The pitcher was presented by the coopers
of Philadelphia—and, although it is no
ger than a common cream jug, it contains
seven hundred and fifty staves. The hoops,
lid and handle are of silver; the bottom is a
magnifying glass, by looking through which,
one is enabled to see the joints, which• are in
visible to the naked eye_
TOILET Fon GENTLEMEN.—FOT preserving
the complexion, temperance. To preserve
the breath sweet, abstinence from tobacco.—
For whitening the' hands, honesty. To re
move a stain, repentance. Easy shaving
soap, ready money. - For improving the
sight, observation. A beautiful ring, a fa
mily circle. For improving the voice,
civili
ty. The beat companion at the toilet, a wife.
MUST HATE BEEN AN IRISUILVAL-=--" I never
shot a bird in my life," said some one to his
friend, who replied, "I never shot anything
in the shape of a bird but - s. squirrel, which
I killed with a stone, when it fell in the river
and was drowned." . •
Ile-What is the difference between a ship
and a hen ? The hen lays one egg and the
ship lays,to.
. PiSrThe shortness of life is very often ow.:
mg, to the irregularities of the liver.
Rise.