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Advertisements not marked with the number of inser
tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac
cording to these terms.
- -.
„Thick Darkness capers the Earth,
And Gross Darkness the People.”
VOTJNTRY • MERCHANTS and all
k_) Others, will take Notice! that they can supply them
selves, in any quantities, with
JONES' PAR-FAMED PATENT
NON-EXPLOSIVE KEROSENE OR COAL OIL LAMPS,
at the Wholesale and Retail llea.d-Quarters,
3S South Second Street
l'intanELPuls.
The OnTy_ place where exclusive Agencies can be obtain
ed for the ;Rates of Pennsylvania, New Jersey and, Dela
ware.
These Lamps give a light equal in intensity of flame,and
similar in appearance to Gas, and are claimed to be supe
rior to all other portable lights, now in use. No fear of
.Explosion--No offensive odor—No smolte—Yery
easily
trimmed.As easily regulated as a Gas Light—Can be
adapted to all purposes—And better than all for a poor
man---50 per cent cheaper than any other portable light,
now in:copinion use.
- ' SoLE AGENT, ALSO, FOR
KNAPP'S PATENT ROSIN AND COAL OIL LAMP.
, ("c-Lamps, Oils, Wicks, Similes, anti every article n the
l ice' S. E. S'OUTIILAND, .ifgent.
No. 38, South Second street, Plant.
September 5,1558.-2 m.
lANdir FURS,
• FOR LADIES AND CHILDREN.
‘I VII X Z . -kiII:IRA 4: Co., No. SIS, (new No. ; )Ms.r.Kra Street,
above Eighth,' Pllll„ll4ELPHl4.—]niporters, Manufacturers
and Dealers in 'FANCY FURS, for Ladies and Children;
also, Gent's Furs, .Fur Collars, and Gloves. The number
of years that.we have been engaged in the Fur business,
And the 'general character of our Furs, both fOr quality and
price; is so generally known throughout the Country, that
we think it is not necessary for us to say anything more
than that we have now opened ow: assortment oeFURS,
for the' Fall and Winter Sales, of the largest and most
beautiful assortment that we have ever offered before to
the "public. Our Furs have all been Imported during the
present season, when money was scarce and Furs mach
lower than lit the present time, and have been mailine
tared by, the most competent workmen; we are therefore.
determined to sell them at such prices as will continue to
give us the reputation we have born for years, that is to
sell a good article for a very small pr(yit.
Storekeepers will do well togive
us a call, as they will
Sued the largest as:ortnient, by far, to select from in the
city, and at manufacturers prices.
.1011 N F.A.IIEIRA. Sz
No. SIS, ..lfdrket Sfrat, Libure 811 r, Phir a.
September 15, 1.855.71 m,
G REX i k EXCITEMENT
AT TIIE
MtnMMOTH STORE!!
.T. IMICKER has returned from the Eqpt with a tremen
do&3 Stock of Goods. They aro upon the shelves in his
New Rooms, on Hill street, near WAteor's llotul, ready for
cuctouters.
Stock consists of every variety of
LADIES' DRESS GOODS,
. DRY GOODS,GENERALLY,
ROC lit' ES AND QU. EN SW IRE.
HARDWARE AND GI,ASSWARE,
CROCKERY AND CEDAR WARE,
BOOTS AND SHOES,
ll.tTs AND CAI , S,
And everything to be found in the most extensive ttEOM4.
His Stock. is New awl of the Rest, and the public are in
vited to call and examine, flee of charge.
1171 08 EVERYBODY
TRY THE NEW STORE,
OA .111(1 Street opposite Miles & Durrie Office
THE BEST
SUGAR and MOLASSES,
COFFEE, TEA. and CROCOLATE,
FLOUR, PISIL SALT and VINEGAR,
CON'FECTIONEItIES , CIGARS and TOBACCO,
- SPICES OF TICE BEST, AND ALL KINDS,
and every other article usually found in a. Grocery Store
ALSO— Drugs, Chemicals, Dye Stan.
Paints, Varnishes, Oils and ypts. Tnrpentine,
Alcohol, Glass argil Putty,
BEST WINE and BRANDY fur medical pnrposes.
ALL TILE BEST PATENT MEDICINES,
and a large number of article , too 1111.1114T01.18 to mention.
The public generally will please call and examine - for
themselves and learn my prices.
Thmtingdon, Nay 25, IS:SS,
T BRICKER'S
DIZICKER : S
J. S
3IA:‘I MOT II
1 AMMOT I sToRE
I.^:11:01tE
IS THE p•Lxcv,'
IS TILE PLACE
/S TUE PLACE
FOR DRY GOODS, HARDWARE, Fcc
FOR DRY GOODS, HARDWARE, Ac
FOR DRY GOODS, HARDWARE,..S:c
QTOVES I STOVES STOVES!
ki INDUSTRIAL ST01:11- WORKS, No. 33,
_P i
North SECOND Street, Opposite Chri st Cititreh,
PMLADELPIIIA.. The subscriber respectfully in
forms leis friends and the public generally that he has
taken the Store. at No. 33 . Nitrth. &mei .Stre , :f, where lie
Will be pleased to see his old customers and friends.
He has now on hand a Splendid assortment of PARLOR,
lIALr„ OFFICE, - STORE and COOKING STOVES. of the
latest and most approved kinds, at Nrholusalv and retail.
- WM. C. NEMAN.
.2V - o. 33, North Secomt St.. Phifa.
B.=Your particular attention is incited to MEG EE'S
PAT ENTG AS If URNLING W ARMING and VENTIL AT I N G
STOVES, for Parlors, Offices, Stores, Halls, Cars,
for economy, purety of air, and ease of management has
no equal. W. C. N.
..tW Odd Castings for all kinds of Stores, an !Lana.
September 15,1858.-3 m. _ _ _
_HUNTINGDON HOTEL.
The subscriber, respectfully announces to his friends
and the public generally, that he has leased that old and
well established TAvr.n.v STAND, known As the
Huntingdon House, on the corner of Hill and ;
Charles Street, in the Borough yf Huntingdon.— 6 ,
Ife has fitted up the House in such a style as to -
render it very comfortable for lodging Strangers and Trav
elers.
HIS TABLE will always be stored with the best the sea
son can afrurd, to suit the tastes and appetites of hid guests.
HIS BAR will always be filled with Cram Liquors, and
lIIS STABLE always attended by careful and attentive
Ostlers:
hopes by strict attention to business and aspirit
of accommodation, to merit and receive a liberal share of
public 'patronage. MeATEEIt.
May 12,, •
ALEXANDRIA FOUNDRY !
The Alexandria Foundry has:been
bought by It. C. McGILL, and is in blast, . .
and have all kinds of Castings, Stoves, Ma
chines, Plows, Kettles, &c., &c., which he ..
will sell at the lowest prices. All kinds
of Country Produce and old Metal taken iu exchange for
Castings, at market prices
Ayiril 7, .1858
llactvry,„:- COUNTRY DEALERS can
VO' "e4.'", , • • buy QLOT/lINO from me in Huntingdon at
- WHOLESALE as cheap as they can in the
cities, its I have a wholesale store in Philadelphia.
Huntingdon; April 1.4, 1858. 11. ROMAN. .
ATARNI.SH I VARNISH ! !
-ir ALL KINDS, - warranted good, for sale at
DROIVMS hardware Store,
April, 2S, 1.355-.—tf. Huntingdon, Pa
,
-1-ADIES, ATTENTION I—My assort
. /.ment of Oeautiful dress goods is now open, and ready
for. inspection. Every article of dress you may desire, can
be found at my store. . D. P. WIN.
ITARDWARE
A_ A Large Stock, just received, and for sale at
• BRICKER'S 31A111MOTH STORE
'THL MAMMOTH STORE ,
Is the place for Latest Styles of Ladies' Dress Goods
~RRICKER'S Mammoth Store is the
• place to get the WC att. of your money, in Dry Goods,
erdware, - Groceries, &c., &c,
TIOUGLASS & SIIERWOOD'S Pat
era-Extension Skirts, Tor sale only by
FISHER & McMURTRIE.
HEAT!
For ealo at
$1 60
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XIV.
- DYING CHARGE OP TUE REV, DUDLEY A. TYNG
Stand up for Jesus! Strengthen'd by his hand,
Even I, though young, have ventured thus to stand;
But, coon cut down, as nutini'd and faint I lie,
Ileac, 0, my friends, the charge with which I die:—
Stand up for Jesus!
Stand up for Jesus? Dear ones of my home,
Who made me slow to leave, and swift to come,
Sweet wife and children, gifts of perfect love,
Still, as ye catch my smile from climes above—
Stand up for Jesus I
Stand up for Jesus! Thou, my honor'fi sire,
_Blest with the heart of truth, and tongue of fire,
Whose brave example taught me how to live,
Take front my lips the lesson thine should give :
Stand up for Jesus!
Stand. up for Jesus! All who lead his host,
Crown'4l with the splendors of the lioly Ghost
Shrink from no foe, to no temptations yield;
Urge nu the triumphs of this glorious field :
Staud up for Jesus!
Stand up for Jesus! Ye with whom I stood
In purer, stronger bonds than those of blood,
Church of the Covenant favor'd firm and true,
Remember Him to whom all thanks are due :
Stand up for Jesus !
stand up for Jesus! Listeners to that Word,
'• 17: tact are 'nen, go new and serve the Lord !"*
Only to serve in, heaven, on earth I fall ;
Ye who remain, still hear your comrade's call :
,Stand up for Jesus!
Stand up fur Jesus! Ye of every name,
All one in prayer, and all with praise aflame
Forget the sad estrangements of the past,
With one consent in love and peace at last
Stand up for Jesus!
Stand up for Jesus! Lo? at God's right hand,
Jesus ldrusulf for us delights to stand!
Lot saints and sinners wonder at his grace:
Lot Jews and Gentiles blend, and all our raco
Stand up for Jesus!
*1 xotlus vr, 11.—Mr. Tyng's text on occasion of preach
ing to the thousands of young men at ;Tayne's Hall.
Two men on their way home, met at a
street crossing, and then walked on together.
They were neighbors and friends.
" This has been a very bad day," said Mr.
Freeman, in a gloomy voice. And as they
walked homeward they discouraged each oth
er, and made darker the clouds that obscured
their whole horizon.
" Good evening," was at last said hur
riedly ; and the two men passed into their
homes.
Mr. Walcott entered the room where his
wife and children were gathered, and with
out speaking to any one, seated himself in a
chair, and leaning his head back, closed his
eyes. His countenance wore a sad, weary,
exhausted look. I.Te had been seated thus for
only a few minutes, when his wife, said in a
fearful voice;
S. S. SMITH.
"More trouble again."
"What is the matter now 7" asked Mr.
Walcott, almost starting.
" John has been sent home from school."
' " What 7" .11.1 r. Walcott partly rose from
his chair.
He has been suspended for bad, con
duct."
"Oh, dear !" groaned Mr. Walcott, "where
is he ?"
"Up in his room ; I sent him there as soon
as hemaine home. You'll have to de, some
thing with him. He'll be ruined if he goes
on in this way. Pm out of all heart with
him."
Mr. Walcott, excited as much by the man
ner in which his wife conveyed unpleasant
information as by the information itself, star
ted up, under the blind impulse of the mo
ment, and going to the room where John had
been sent on coming home from school, pun
ished the boy severely, and this without lis
tening to the explanations which the poor
child tried to make him hear.
"Father," said the boy, with forced calm
ness, after the cruel stripes had ceased ; "I
was not to blame, and if you will go with
me to the teacher, I can prove myself inno
cent."
Mr. Walcott had never known his son to
tell an untruth, and thO words fell with a re
buke unon his heart.
" Irer'y well, we will see about that," he
answered, with forced sterness; and leaving
the room he went down stairs, feeling much
more uncomfortable,.than when he went up.
Again he seated himself in his large chair,
and again leaned back his weary head and
closed - his heavy eyelids. Sadder was his
face than before. As he sat thus, his eld
est daughter, in her sixteenth year, came
and stood by him. She held a paper in her
hand. .
." Father," he opened. his eyes ; " here's
my quarter's bill. Can't I have the money
to take to school -with me in the morning?"
"I am afraid not," answered Mr. Walcott,
half in despair.
"-Nearly all the girls will bring in their
Money, to-morrow, and it mortifies me to be
behind the others." The daughter spoke
fretfully. Mr. Walcott waved her aside with
his hand, and she went off muttering and
pouting.
"It is mortifying." said Mrs. Walcott, a
little sharply ; " and I don't wonder that
Helen feels annoyed about it. The bill has
to be paid, and I don't see why it may not be
done as well first as last."
To this Mr. Walcott made no answer.—
The words but added another pressure to the
heavy burden under which he was already
staggering. After a silence of some moments,
Mrs. Walcott said ;
R. C. McGILL
"The coals are all gone."
" Impossible I" Mr. Walcott raised his
head and looked incredulous. " I laid in six
teen tons."
" I can't help it, if they were sixty tons in-
D. F. GWTN'S
eLect ~etx~r.
6 6 STAND TIP FOR .TESTIS."
a ,titti foul..
THE TWO HOMES.
stead of sixteen; they are all gone. The girls
had hard work to-day.to scrape up enough to
keep the fire in."
"'There's been a shameful waste some
where," said Mr. Walcott, with strong em
phasis, starting up and moving about the
room with a very disturbed manner.
"So you always say, when anything runs
out," answered Mrs. Walcott, rather tartly.
" The barrel of flour is gone also ; but r
suppose, you have done your part, with the
rest in using it up."
Mr, Walcott returned to his chair,
and
again seated himself, leaned back his head
and closed his eyes as at first. how sad, and
weary and hopeless he felt I The burden of
the day had seemed almost too heavy for him ;
but he had borne up bravely. To gather
strength for a renewed struggle with adverse
circumstances, he had come home. Alas! that
the process of exhaustion should still go on—
that where only strength could be looked for
on earth, no strength was given.
When the tea bell was rung, Mr. Walcott
made no movement to obey the summons.
" Come to supper," said his wife coldly.
But ho did not stir.
"Are you not coming to supper ?" she
called to him, as she was leaving the room.
"I don't wish for anything this evening.—
My head aches very much," he answered. -
"In the clumps again," muttered Mrs.
Walcott to - herself. "It's as much as one's
life is worth to ask for money, or say any
thing is wanted." And she kept on her way
to the dining room. When she returned,
her husband was still sitting where she had
left him.
" Shall I bring you a cup of tea ?" she
asked.
"No, I don't wish for anything."
"What's the matter, Mr. Walcott ? What
do you look so troubled about, as if you
hadn't a friend in the world? What have I
done to you ?"
There was no answer, for there was not a
shade of real sympathy in her voice that
made the queries , but rather of quarrelous
dissatisfaction. A few moments Mrs. Wal
cott stood behind her husband, but as he did
not seem inclined to answer questions, she
turned away from him, and resumed the en
joyment which had been interrupted by the
ringing of the tea bell.
The whole evening passed, without the oc
currence of a single incident, that gave a
healthful pulsation to the sick heart of Mr.
Walcott. No thoughtful kindness was man
ifested by any member of the family ; but
on the contrary, a narrow regard for self,•
and a looking to him only that he might sup
ply the means of self-gratification.
No wonder, from the pressure which was
on him, that Mr. Walcott felt utterly dis
couraged. He retired early, and sought to
find that relief from mental disquietude in
sleep which he had vainly hoped for in the
bossom of his family. But the whole night
passed in broken slumber and disturbing
dreams. From the cheerless morning meal,
at which be was reminded of the quarter's
bill that must be paid, of the coals and
flour that were out, and of the necessity of
supplying Mrs. Walcott's empty purse, he
went forth to meet the difficulties of an
other day, faint at heart, almost hopeless of
success. A confident spirit, sustained by
home affections would have carried him
through ; but unsupported as he was, the
burden was to heavy for him, and be sank
under it. The day that opened upon him
so unpropitiously closed upon him a ruined ,
man.
T , et us look in for a few moments upon
Mr. Freeman, a - friend and a neighbor of Mr.
Walcott. He, also, has come home weary,
dispirited and almost sick. The trials of the
day had been unusually severe, and when be
looked anxiously forward to scan the future,
not even a gleam of light was seen along the
black horizon.
As he stepped across the threshold of his
dwelling, a pang shot through his heart, for
the thought came : "How slight the present
hold upon all these comforts." Not for
himself, but fur his wife and children was the
pain.
"Father's come 1" cried a glad little voice
on the stairs, the moment his foot-fall soun
ded in the passage ; then quick, pattering
feet were heard—and then a tiny form was
springing into his arms. Before reaching
the sitting room above, Alice, the eldest
daughter, was by his side, her arm drawn
fondly within his, and her loving eyes lifted
to his face.
"Are you not late dear?" It was the gen
tle voice of Mrs. Freeman.
Mr. Freeman could not trust himself to
answer. lie was too deeply troubled in spirit
to assume at the moment a cheerful tone, and
he had no wish to sadden the hearts that
loved him, by letting the depression from
which he was suffering, become too clearly
apparent. But the eyes of Mrs. Freeman
saw quickly below the surface.
" Are you not well, Robert ?" she inquired
tenderly, as she drew his large arm chair to
ward the centre of the room.
" A little headache," he answered, with a
slight evasion.
Scarcely was Mr. Freeman seated, ere a
pair of hands was busy with each foot, re
moving gaiters and shoes and supplying their
place with a soft slipper. There NW S not one
in the household who did not feel happier
for his return, nor one who did not seek to
render him some kind office.
It was impossible, under such a burst of
heart-sunshine, for the spirit of Mr. Freeman
long to remain shrouded. Almostampercep
tibly to himself, gloomy thoughts gave place
to more cheerful ones, and by the time tea
was ready, he had half forgotten the fears
which had so haunted him through the day.
But they could not be held back altogether,
and their existence was marked during the
evening by an unusual silence and abstrac
tion of mind. This was observed by Mrs.
Freeman, who, more than half suspecting
the cause, kept back from her husband the
knowledge of certain matters about which
she intended to speak to him, for she feared
they would add to his mental disquietude.
During the evening she gleaned from scmc-
HUNTINGDON, PA., NOVEMBER 17, 1858,
-PERSEVERE.
thing he said, the real cause of his changed
aspect. At once her thoughts commenced
running in a new channel. By a few leading
remarks she drew her husband into conver
sation on the subject of home expenses and
the propriety of restriction in various points.
Many things were mutually pronounced su
perfluous and easily to be dispensed with,
and before sleep fell soothingly on the heavy
eyelids of Mr. Freeman, that night au entire
change in their style of living had been de
termined upon—a change that would reduce
their expenses at least one half.
"I see a light ahead," were the hopeful
words of Mr. Freeman, as he resigned him
self to slumber.
With renewed strength of mind and a con
fident spirit he went forth the next day—a
day that he had looked forward to with fear
and trembling. And it was only through
this renewed strength and confident spirit
that he was able to overcome the difficulties
that loomed up, mountain high, before him.
Weak despondency would have ruined all.
Home had proved his tower of strength—his
walled city. Strengthened for the conflict,
he had gone forth again into the world and
conquered in the struggle.
"I see light ahead," gave place to "The
morning breaketh I"— Orange Blossoms.
4iittitsfing
Village Homes in Germany
PROM MISS JOHNSON'S PEASANT'S LIFE
To one who has been accustomed to New
England villages, those of Nassau, and of
theinterior of Germany generally, strike one
as little better than a nest of Indian wig
wams. The houses stand close to the street,
and close together, or separated only by nar
row, dark, and dirty alleys, which have been
just as dark and dirty for centuries. Not a
foot of land is left for garden or grass plat,
and instead of which, we find the cow-yard,
and are often obliged to walk through it, in
order to reach the door. Within will be one
little room that looks tenantable, and this
will contain a bed, a settle, a few chairs, a
long, bare wooden table, which is never
moved, and which is used fur meals, for
work-table, and for anything for which it
may be rendered convenient. There will be,
also, a clock, some pictures of the virgin and
the saints, a cross, and other things which
denote the religion of the people, but whom
we have found, neither bigoted nor ignorant,
usual acceptation of these terms.
The kitchen is a room some ten or fifteen
feet square, and so dark that we can scarcely
distinguish one person from another, and
opens on one side, into the stable, and on the
other,into the stable-yard, and looks like a place
unfit fur pigs to feed, much less for human
beings to cook their food. The sleeping
rooms are above, and have in each, two beds,
as such a curiosity as a double bed is not to
be found in Germany. In the humblest cot,
among the most miserably poor, no two mem
bers of the family, of any relationship, oc
cupy the same bed. They are all very nar
row, and the sheets and quilts are made to
correspond. One or two feather-beds- are
made up light and round on the outside, :and
a neat white or colored spread, goes over the
whole. The floors are white and sanded.
If we are here to breakfast, we shall have
coffee and blackbread and rolls, and if we
take breakfast in any family in Germany,
high or low, we shall have the same, and
should be considered very gross and uncivil
ized, if we should ask fur anything else.—
At ten o'clock we shall have offered us bread
and butter, and some slices of cold ham or I
beef, and this, also, is the universal custom,
but as far as grossness and refinement are
concerned, we are not 1.1,b1e to understand
why ten is not as unsuitable an hour as
eight, at which to eat meat.
If we dine, we shall have a snow-white
cloth upon the . long .table, and a plate to
each person, and knife and fork to each
plate ; one large pint-tumber full of water,
out of which each will drink till it is empty,
when it will be filled again, and a great loaf
of black bread, from which each will cut a
slice when he wants it. The first course will
be belled beef, what in New England is
called corned beef, and this, also, is the disk,
unit:cm/2/ in Germany; with it, we cat bread.
After this, we have some kind of fried meat
and boiled potatoes, and, perhaps, cabbage,
which is, also, another dish universal. Cab
bage is the great staple among all classes,
but there are several kinds, white, red, brown,
and cauliflowers. Every dish has a clean,
wholesome look, and each one helps himself
from each dish which is passed, with a I
spoon, or knife and fork upon it. For des-
serf, we have a kind of cake, made very thin
with plums, which aro called Zwetelen,
placed in rows close together, all over the
top, and baked in large tins, three feet long.
When done, it is cut in strips and arranged
cobhouse fashion upon plates. If it is fruit
time, we shall also have fruit, apples, pears,
plums, and grapes.
A FanAk. or NT rugs.—The Cincin
nati Gazette says :—Mr. Vestal requested us
to go to the Commercial Hotel to see a rare
lusus waturae. He has a girl who has four
legs and feet, and two heads, four arms, and
the upper part of two bodies perfectly formed
with the exception of the heart of one of
these bodies is in the right side instead of
the left, but though it is double as to its
heads, arms, and legs, yet in its spinal and
pelvis arrangements it is one. Its two heads
are very intelligent, and answer and sing
together. In answering questions asked by
any one, both answer together and in the
same words, or, if different questions are
asked, each answer differently. In walking
the girl uses two or four legs, whichever
happens to be the most convenient. In eat
ing, she uses both mouths, though it is sup
posed that one would answer the purpose as
well, as there is but one set of digestive or
gans. It is more wonderful than the Siamese
twins—they were two persons joined together
by a membrane—This girl is two persons
with one body—durality in unity.
:..,
... 4 . . ,
A.
: •
-:;„
r
=
Editor and Proprietor.
Signing the Pledge
Rev. John Abbot, the sailor preacher, re
lates the following good story of one of his
converts to Temperance :
Arr. Johnson, at the close of a cold water
lecture, intimated that he must sign the
pledge in his own way, which he did in these
words.
"I, William Johnson, pledge myself to
drink no more intoxicating liquor for one
year."
Some thought he wouldn't stick three days,
others allowed him a week, and a few gave
him two weeks • but the landlord knew him
best, and said fie was good stuff, but at the
end of the year, Bill would be a good soaker.
Before the year was quite gone, Mr. Johnson
was asked by Mr. Abbot, " Bill, aint you go
ing to renew the pledge ?"
" Well, I don't know Jack, but what I will;
I have done pretty well so far will you let
me sign it again my own way ?"
"0, yes, any way, so that you wont drink
rum."
He writes :
"I, 'William Johnson, sign this pledge for
nine hundred and ninety-nine years, and if
living at the end of that time, I intend to
take out a lease for life."
A day or two after, Johnson went to see
his old landlord, who eyed him as a hawk
does a chicken. "Oh, landlord," whined
Bill, accompanied with sundry contortions
of the body, as if enduring the most excru
ciating torment, " I have such a lump on
my side I"
" That is because you have stopped drink
ing; you won't live two years longer at this
rate. ,
" If I commence drinking will the lump go
away ?"
" Yes. If you don't, you will have another
just such a lump on the other side."
Do you think so, landlord ?"
"I know it; you will have them on your
arms, back, breast, and head ; you will he
covered all over with lumps."
" Well, may be I will,' said Bill.
" Come, Bill," said the landlord, "let us
drink together," at the same time pouring
the red stuff from a decanter into his glass—
gug, gug, gug.
" No," says Johnson, " I can't, for I have
signed the pledge again."
" You aint though 1 You are a fuol."
" Yes, that old, sailor coaxed so bard I
couldn't get off."
"I wish the devil bad the old rascal.—
Well, how long do you go this time ?"
"For nine hundred'and ninety-nine years,"
whispered Bill.
" You won't live a year."
" Well, if I drink, you are sure the lump
on my side will go away ?"
.4 yes!,
"Well, I guess I won't drink; here's the
lump," continued Bill, holding up something
with a hundred dollars in -it ; " and you say
I will have more such lumps—that's what I
want !"
The Last shall be First.
Four creditors started from Boston in the
same train of core, for the purpose of attach
ing the property of. a eertain,debtor in Farm
ington, in the State of Maine. He owed each
one separately, and they were each suspi
cious of the object of the other, but dared
not say a word about it. So they rode, ac
quaintances all, talking upon every thing ex
cept what they had most at heart. When
they arrived at the depot, at Farmington,
which was three miles from 'where the debtor
did business, they found nothing to " put 'em
over the road" but a solitary cab, towards
which they all rushed. Three got in and re
fused admittance to the fourth, and the cab
started.
The fourth ran after and got upon the out
side with the driver. lie asked the driver if
he wanted to sell his horse. 1k replied that
be did not want to—that he was not worth
$5O, but be would not sell him for that. He
asked him if he would take a hundred for
him. Yes, said he. The "fourth man"
quickly paid over the money, took the rf.'ios.
and backed the cab up to a bank—slipped it
from the harness and tipped 11. up so that the
door could not be opened, and jumped upon
the horse's back and rode off "
switch," while the "insiders," were look
ing out of the window feeling like singed
cats.
Ire rode to a lawyer's and got a writ made
and served, and his debt secure, and got back
to the hotel just as the "insiders" came up
puffing and blowing. The cabman soon
bought back his horse for fifty dollars.
The "sold" men offered to pay that sum,
if the fortunate one, who found property suf
ficient to pay his own debt, would not tell it
in Boston.
But as both parties have told a friend of
ours, thinking the story 'too good to•be lost,'
we feel at liberty `to let the cat out of the
bag ;' more particularly so as it illustrates a
passage that we never heard fully explained
but once, and then by a school master, who
said :
"Scl•,-iars, this verse is plain ; when you
tie up the cattle, old Buck goes in first, and
old Broad nest. Broad went last, but he will
come out first, and Buck went in first, but
shall come out last."
An eccentric, wealthy gentleman stuck
up a board in a field upon his estate, on
which was painted the following : 'I will
give this field to any man who is contented.'
lie soon had an applicant.
'Well, sir, are you a contented man ?'
'Yes, sir, very.'
'Then - what do you want with my field?'
The applicant did not reply.
SUOULD WOMEN BE HUNG ron MURDER ?
The late execution of a woman in New York
for murder has served to call up the above
question. The Cleveland Pia indealer takes
the affirmative. It says: "We aro as much
the admirer of true IVOII2OI as any one; but
we think that exempting them from capital
punishment, when guilty of murder, merely
because they are women, is carrying polite
ness toward them altogether too fur
At a late school examination in Oxford,
Alabama, Miss Emma H. Spencer read a
composition with this title, -which, says the
S e l m a Sentinel, "was conceived by the fancy
gents present, rather a 'tight paper,' and
consequently, Miss Emma's name was used
in unmeasured terms." The offensive arti
cle which has made an Alabama girl so sud
denly famous, ought to have a run, for it cas
tigates as severely as justly, a class of young
men who arc becoming quite too numerous
all over the country. Here is the missile al
luded to :
"It is the quality of that precious metal
which men worship, to glitter, but it doesi
not therefore follow that everything possess
ed of a shining exterior is to be true ; that
we often see the basest metal luminous with
the most precious, and so frequent is this the
case, that a counterfeit may often be detected
by its very lustre I There is a significant
moral in this, and copious illustrations of its
truth may be found in almost every commu
nity. Look at our own village, town, or
neighborhood ; look at our gentlemen of the
nice sort. See that fellow with enormous
moustache and bloated self-importance! Ile
carries a gilded walking-cane, and smokes
cigars ; lie speaks great swelling words of
vanity, and domineers before respectable men
like a Goliah of Gath. lie is a blustering
idiot, a noisy braggart. In short, he has all
the fuss and feathers,' all the 'glitter' of
superabundant gentility. Ire may be a mer
chant, or a doctor, or a splendid loafer; but
he is, nevertheless—in the eyes of all sober
people—a pitiful fool, a miserable leather
head, a mere animal in broadcloth ! These
gilded specimens of the genus homy—these
perfumed dandies, and we may say beautiful
fools, are as plenty in the world as the toads
were in Egypt, and like Pharoh's vermin,
they often come into our houses. I said
they glitter, and so they do • just look at
their finger-rings, their watch -chains, etc.—
And so showy are they,;that they often show
more than they bargain for—their igno
rance, and all else that is abominable. The
old adage is very appropriate here :
NO, 2L
10=11=13=1
Is like an old hog with a gold ring in his nose."
They sometimes go to church, walk in,
take their seats, and behave with forced dig
nity, looking cunning like so many foxes; but
spit rivers of amber on the fluor, and curse
the preacher when they leave. 'Tis amusing
to notice their excessive vanity among the
ladies, the way they 'fling sheep's eyes' at
the fair sex, and count the number of their
sweet-hearts on their soft fingers. Of course,
wizen we speak of beaux and gallants, they
are the the acknowledged lions' of the day.
The most presumptuous one is generally the
biggest fool ; nevertheless, be leads the bal
ance wherever he goes, and thus the whole
herd of these contemptible simpletons are a
pest to the female community.
" 'All is not gold that glitters'—nothing
is plainer than this declaration. 'Yet, how
many are they who mistake a mere :pretender
for a gentleman l When I wns a child, I
thought every man who had a broadcloth
coat and a pair of boots, was a finished gen
tleman ; but now I have done with childish
things, there is little that is real, and that
all is not gold that glitters.' "
We are indebted to the Knickerbocker,
for the following :
"Bear in mind, if you please, that the fol
lowing is .entirely authentic. It is o. verbatim
extract, "taken down on the spay- rrom
lecture on The Rights of Woman, delivered
by one G. IV. S—, at the capital of Wiscon
sin, less than 'sixty years since.' It may
be well to mention that the speaker was op
posed to extending the right of suffrage to fe
males. Let man plough the heaving bosom
of the briny deep ; let man drag down from
the booming thunder-cloud the clanking light
nings of heaven : but let woman maintain
her pure and intangible position in our bosom
of bosoms—in the innermost interstices of
society ! There she sits enthroned high above
all ! Nation may swallow up nation, and,
like Cornucopia of old, stand on the bank of
the mad-raging Burnampooter, and lick their
chops for more ; and the ashes of pulverized
humanity may be blown to the four corners
of heaven ; yet there she sits ; anti bo who
would reach up a sacriligious hand to drag
her down from her zenith of glory would as
cend on Jacob's ladder to the farthest confines
of infinitesimal space, and steal the blessed
lamps of night for buttons l"rhis was not
intended for a burlesque, but was delivered
in all earnestness by the orator, and with
gesticulations as fervent as they were origi
nal and `striking'—so, at least, affirms our
correspondent." •
TUE NEano AND TUE BE:al.—The following
good story of a negro's first meeting with a
bear is told by Col. -, who had spent
some of his fortune and life in the woods of
Florida : " The Colonel had a black fellow, a
good natured happy creature, .who, one Morn
ing, was strolling through the woods, whist
ling and roaring as he went, -when suddenly
he spied an individual as black as himself,
with much more wool. Dick looked at his
new friend, and the bear, (on his rump,) at
his. Dick's eyes began to stick out a feet.
" Who's dat ?" cried Dick, shaking all over.
Bruin began to approach. Dick pulled heels
for the first tree and the bear after him.—
Dick was upon the cypress and the bear
scratching close after him. Dick moved out
on a limb, the bear followed—till the limb
began to bend. " Now, see here, mister, if
you came any furder, dis limb break. Dere !
dere! I tole you so." As Dick had said, the
limb broke, and down came bear and nigger !
Dere, you black imp, I tole you so ; dis is all
your fault. Yer broke your neck, and I'll
jist take yer to Massa Colonel: °.
TLI INGS LOST FOII2VEII.----Th following
from the pen of Lydia 11. Sigourney, are full
of instructive meaning
"Lost wealth may be restored by industry ;
the wreck of health regained by temperance;
forgotten knowledge restored by study; alien
ated friendship smothered into forgetfulness;
even forfeited reputation won by patience
and - virtue ; but who ever looked upon his
vanished hours, recalled his slighted years,
stamped them with wisdom, or effaced from
Heaven's record the fearful blot of 'wasted
time ? The foot-print on the sand is washed
out by the ocean wave; and easier might we,
when years are fled, find that foot-print than
recall lost hours."
''r-A I,ETTER. was dropped into the Pust
Office in Greenfield, Massachusetts, last week,
to "Eggarborcitty Nuschersv." After some
study it was sent to Egg harbor city, N. J.
If a man has failed to estimate the af
fection of a true hearted wife, be 11111 be
very likely to mark the value of his loss,
when the heart which he loved is stilled by
death.
"Ali is not Gold that Glitters."
Lecture on Woman's Rights