Newspaper Page Text
TERMS OF THE GLOBE.
Per annum in advance $1 50
Six mouths 75
Three months 50
A failure to notify a discontinuance at the oxpiriation of
the term subscribed for will be considered a now engage
TERMS OF ADVERTISING.
1 insertion. 2 do. 3 do.
Four lines or less, $ 25.........$ 37% $ 50
One square, (12 lines,) 50 75 1 00
Two squares, 1 00 1 50 2 00
Three squares, 1 50 2 25 3 00
Over three week and less than three months, 25 cents
per 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 10 00
Three squares, 7 00 10 00 15 00
Four squares, 9 00 13 00 20 00
half a column, 12 00 16 00 24 00
One column, 20 00 30 00 50 00
Professional and Business Cards not exceeding four lines,
ono 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.
„ Thick Darkness covers the Earth,
And Gross Darkness the People.'
CIOUNTRY MERCHANTS and all
Others, will taktiNotieel that they can supply them
selves, in any quantities, with
JONES' FAR-FAMED PATENT
NON-EXPLOSIVE KEROSENE OR COAL OIL LAMPS,
at the Wholesale and Retail Head-Quarters,
38 South Second Street 38.
The only place where exclusive Agencies can be obtain
ed for the States of Pennsylvania, Now Jersey and Dela
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 usP. No fear of
Explosion—No offensive odor—No smoke—Very 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 common use.
SOLE AGENT, ALSO, FOR
ENAPP'S PATENT ROSIN AND COAL OIL LAMP.
.t#:l3 - - Lamps, Oils, Wicks, Shades, and every article in the
line. S. E. SOUTHLAND, Agent.
No. 3S, South Second street, Phil'a.
September 8,1853.-2 m
F ANCY FURS,
FOR LADIES AND CHILDREN.
JOHN FAREIRA. & Co., No. 818, (new N 0.,) Muutur Street,
above Eighth, Pnitinmentx—lmporters, 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
than that we have now opened our assortment of FURS,
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 much
lower than at the present time, and have been manufac
tured by the most competent workmen; we aro 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 profit.
Storekeepers will do well to give us a call, as they will
find the largest assortment, by far, to select from in the
city, and at manufacturers prices.
JOHN FARETRA & CO.,
No. 818, Market Street, above Sth, PluTa.
September 15, 1858.-4 m.
J. BRICKERbas returned from the Ea-d with a tremen
dous Stock of Goods. They are upon the shelves in his
New Rooms, ou Bill street, near 3rAteer's Hotel, ready for
His Stock consists of every variety of
LADIES' DRESS GOODS,
DRY GOODS. GENERALLY,
GROCERIES AND QUEENSWARE,
HARDWARE AND GLASSWARE,
CROCKERY AND CEDARWARE,
BOOTS AND SHOES,
HATS AND CAPS,
And everything to be found in the most extensive stores.
His Stock is New and of the Best. and the public are in
vited to call and examine, free of charge.
F OR EVERYBODY
TRY THE NEW STORE,
On Hill Street opposite Miles ,f 7 Dorris Office
SUGAR and MOLASSES.
COFFEE, TEA and CHOCOLATE,
FLOUR, FISH, SALT and VINEGAR,
CONFECTIONERIES, CIGARS and TOBACCO,
SPICES OF THE BEST, AND ALL KINDS,
and every other article usually found in a Grocery Store
ALSO— Drugs, Chemicals, Dye Stuffs,
Paints, Varnishes, Oils and Spts. Turpentine,
Fluid, Alcohol, Glass and Putty,
BEST WINE and BRANDY for medical purposes.
ALL THE BEST PATENT MEDICINES,
and a large number of articles too numerous to mention,
The public generally will please call and examine for
themselves and learn my prices
Huntingdon, May 25, 1855,
IS THE PLACE
IS THE PLACE
IS TILE PLACE
FOR DRY GOODS, HARDWARE, &c
FOR DRY GOODS, HARDWARE, &c
FOR DRY GOODS, HARDWARE, ac
STOVES! STOVES ! STOVES!
INDUSTRIAL STOVE WORKS, No. 33, lag
North SECOND Street, opposite Christ Church, - - = 1
PIIILADELDDIA. The subscriber respectfully in
forms his friends and the public generally that he has
taken the Store, at No. 33, North Second Street, where he
will be pleased to see his old customers and friends.
Ho has now on hand a splendid assortment of PARLOR,
HALL, OFFICE, STORE and COOKING STOVES, of the
latest and most approved kinds, at wholesale and
WM. C. NEMAN,
No. 33, North &COM St., Phila.
N.B.—Your particular attention is invited to MEGEE'S
PATENT GAS BURNING WARMING and V ENTI LATI NG
STOVES, for Parlors, Offices, Stores, Halls, Cars, &c., which
for economy, purety of Mr, and case of management has
no equal. W. C. N.
fiC,&" Odd Castings for all kinds of Stores, on hand.
September 15,1858.-3 m.
The subscriber respectfully announces to his friends
and the public generally, that he has leased that old and
well established TAVERN STAND, known as the
liuntin,gclon, House, on the corner of Hill and ;h_
Charles Street, in the Borough of Huntingdon.— e
He has fitted up the House in such a style as to
render it very comfortable for lodging Strangers and Tray
HIS TABLE will always be stored with the best the sea
son can afford, to suit the tastes and appetites of his guests.
HIS BAR will always be filled with Choice Liquors, and
HIS STABLE always attended by careful and attentive
.4Rrlfe hopes by strict attention to business and a spirit
of accommodation, to merit and receive a liberal share of
public patronage. P. McA.TEER.
ALEXANDRIA FOUNDRY !
The Alexandria Foundry has been
bought by R. C. McGILL, and is in b1a5t,..01.11 .
and have all kinds of Castings, Stoves, Ma
chines, Plows, Kettles, &c., &c., which he flir j ecal.
will sell at the lowest prices. An kinds
of Country Produce and old Metal taken in exchange for
Castings, at market prices.
April 7, 1858
L i „ ) VircOa. COUNTRY DEALERS can
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, 1853. H. ROMAN.
ALL KINDS, warranted good, for sale at
BROWN'S Hardware Store,
April 28, 185S-tf.
LADIES, ATTENTION I—My assort
ment of beautiful dress goods is now open, and ready
for inspection. Every article of dress you may desire, can
be found at my store. D. P. GIVIN.
A Large Stock, just received, and for sale at
BRICKER'S MAMMOTH STORE
T HE MAMMOTH STORE
r•• t . :' D es: t..
'LTRRICKER'S Mammoth Store is the
• place to get the we rth of your money, in Dry Goods,
ardwnre, Groceries, &c., &e., &c.
-DOUGLASS & SHERIVOOD'S Pat
ent Extension Skirts, for sale only by
FISILER & MeMIIRTRIE.
For sale at
VOL. XI U.
“DO YOU TIIINK. HE IS AILA.RRIED:”
Madam! you are very pressing,
And I can't decline the task ;
With the slightest gift of guessing,
You would hardly need to ask!
Don't you see a hint of marriage
In his sober-sided face ?
In his rather careless carriage,
And extremely rapid pace?
If he's not committed treason,
Or some wicked action done,
Can you see the faintest reason
Why a bachelor should run ?
Why should he be in a flurry?
But a loving wife to greet,
Is a circumstance to hurry
The most dignified of feet?
When afar the man has spied her,
If the grateful, happy elf
Does not haste to be beside her,
lie must be beside himself!
It is but a trifle, may be—
But observe his practiced tone,
When he calms your stormy baby,
Just as if it were his on•u I
Do you think a certain meekness
You have mentioned in his looks,
Is a chronic optic weakness
That has come of reading hooks?
Did you ever see his vision
Peering underneath a hood,
Save enough for recognition,
As a civil person should?
Could a capuchin be colder
When he glances as lie must,
At a finely rounded shoulder,
Or a proudly swelling Lust?
Madam! think of every feature,
Then deny if you can—
Ile's a fond, connubial creature,
And a very married man!
THE RIGHT ARM ;
THE PATRIOT AND TIIE TRAITOR
Fifty years ago, a terrible storm shook the
city of London. At the dead of the night,
when the storm was at its highest, an aged
minister, living near the suburbs of the city,
was aroused by an earnest cry for help.—
Looking from his window, he beheld a rude
man, clad in the coarse attire of the sweeper
of the public street. In a few moments,
while the rain came down in torrents, and
the storm growled above, the preacher, lean
ing on the arm of the scavenger, threaded
his way through the dark suburbs.
That very day, a strange old man had fal
len speechless in front of the scavenger's rude
home. The good hearted street sweeper had
taken him in, laid him on his own bed—he
had not spoken once—and now he was dy
This was the story of the rough man.
And now, through dark alleys, among mis
erable tenements, that seem to topple down
upon their heads, into the loneliest and drea
riest suburbs they pass. That white haired
minister and his guide. At last, in a narrow
court, and up a flight of stairs that creaked
beneath their tread, and then into the death
S. S. SMITH
It was, in truth, a miserable place.
A glimmering light stood on a broken
chair. There was the rough walls, there the
solitary garret window, with the rain beating
through the rags and straw, which stuffed
the broken panes—and. there, amid a heap of
cold ashes, the small valise which it seems
the stranger had with him.
In one corner, on the coarse straw of the
ragged bed, lay the dying man. Ile was but
half dressed—his legs were concealed by mil
The aged preacher drew near and looked
upon him. And as he looked—throb—throb
—you might hear the death-watch ticking in
the shattered wall.
It was the form of a strong man, grown
old with care, more than age.
There was a face that you might look upon
once, and yet wear it in your memory for
ever. Let us bend over the bed and look on
A bold forehead, seamed by one deep wrin
kle between the brows—long locks of dark
hair, sprinkled with gray—lips firmly set,
yet quivering as though they had a life sepa
rate from the life of the man—and then, two
large eyes, vivid, burning, unnatural in their
Ah, there was something so terrible in that
face—something so full of unutterable lone
liness, unspeakable despair—that the aged
minister started back in horror.
But look, these strong arms are clutching
at the vacant air—the death-sweat starts in
drops upon the cold brow—the man is dying I
It. C. McGILL
Throb ! throb ! throb! beat the death
watch in the shattered wall.
" Would you die in the faith of a Chris
tian ?" faltered the preacher, as he knelt there
on the dark floor.
The white lips of the death-stricken man
trembled, but made no sound.
Then, with the agony of death upon him,
he rose into a_sitting posture. For the first
time, he spoke :
" Christian I" he echoed in that deep tone
which thrilled the teacher to the heart, "will
faith give me back my honor ? Come with
me—with me far, far over the water. Ha!
we are there ! This is my native home.—
Yonder is the church in which I knelt in
childhood—yonder, the green on which I
sported when a boy. But another flag than
that waived when I was a child. And listen,
old man ; were I to pass this street as I pas
sed when but a child, the very babes in their
cradles would raiso their tiny hands and
curse me. The graves in yonder churchyard
would shrink from my footsteps, and yonder
D. P. GIVIN'S
itiett refs r.
BY JORN G. 89. XE
lk, cLect targ.
flag would stain a baptism of blood upon my
That was an awful death-bed. The minis
ter has watched the "last night," with a hun
dred convicts in their cells, and yet never be
held a scene as terrible as this.
Suddenly, the dying man arose. He tot
tered along the floor. With those white fin
gers, whose nails are blue with the death
chill, he threw open the valise. He showed
his military coat, trimmed with silver, an old
parchment, a piece of cloth that looked like
the wreck of a battle-flag.
" Look ye, priest, this faded coat is spotted
with my blood I" he cried, as old memories
seemed stirring at his heart. This is the last
coat I wore when I planted the banner of the
stars on Ticonderoga. That bullet-hole was
pierced in the fight at Quebec ; now—l am a
—let me whisper in your ear."
" Now, help me, priest," he said, in a
voice growing suddenly tremulous ; "help
me put on this coat of blue and silver. For
you see," and a ghastly smile came over his
face, "there is no one to wipe the cold drops
from my brow; no wife, no child—l must
meet death alone ; but I will meet him, as I
met him in battle, without fear."
While he stood arraying himself in that
worm-eaten coat of blue and silver, the good
preacher spoke to him of faith in Jesus.—
Yes, of that great faith which pierces the
clouds of human guilt, and rolls them back
from the face of God.
" Faith !" echoed the strange man, who
stood there erect, with the death-light in his
eye. "Faith, can it give me back my honor ?
Look ye, priest, there over the waves, sits
George Washington, telling to his comrades,
the pleasant story of the eight years' war—
there, in his royal hall, sits George of Eng
land, bewailing in his idiotic voice, the loss
of his colonies. And here am I—l—who
was the first to raise the flag of freedom, the
first to strike the blow against that King—
here am I, dying like a dog I"
Tho awe-stricken preacher started back
from the look of the dying man, while—
throb—throb—throb—beat the death-watch
in the shattered wall.
" Hush ! silence along the lines, there 1"
he muttered in that wild, absent tone, as
though speaking to the dead; "silence, along
the lines I Hark, you, Montgomery, we will
.in victory or death ! Hist ! si
lence, my men, not a whisper, as you move
up those steep rocks ! Now, on, my boys,
now, on 1 Men of the wilderness, we will
gain the town. Now, up with the banner of
the stars ; up with the flag of . , freedom s
thoughthe night is dark and the sno*
Now---now—" shrieked the death-stricken
man, towering, there in his blue uniform,
with his clenched hands waving in the air—
"now, now ! One blow, and Quebec is
And look. His eyes grew glassy. With
that word on his lips, he stands there—n.h !
what a hideous picture of despair, erect, livid,
ghastly 1 There for a moment, and then he
falls ! He is dead ! Ah ! look at that
proud form, thrown cold and stiff upon the
damp floor. In that glassy eye, there lingers
even yet, horrible energy, a sublimity of de
Who is this strange man, dying here alone
in this garret, this man, who, in all his
crime, still treasured up his blue uniform
and faded flag ?
Who is this being of terrible remorse ?
This man, whose memories link something
of heaven and more of hell?
Let us look at that parchment and the
The old minister unrolls that faded flag—
it was a blue banner, gleaming with thirteen
He unrolls that parchment. It is a Colo
nel's commission in the Continental Army,
addressed, BENEDICT ARNOLD !
And there, in that rude hut, while the
death-watch throbbed like a heart in the
shattered wall—unknown, unwept, in all the
bitterness of desolation, lay the corpse of
that patriot and traitor.
0, that our own true Washington had
been there, to sever that good right arm from
the corpse, and while, the dishonored body
rotted into dust, to bring home that good
right arm, and embalm it among the holiest
memories of the past.
For that right arm bad struck many a gal
lant blow for freedom ; yonder at Ticon
deroga, at Quebec, Champlain, and Saratoga
—that arm yonder, beneath the snow-white
mountain, on the deep silence of the dead,
first raised into sight the banner of the
It was during the renowned expedition
through the wilderness to Quebec, that Ar
nold encamped for two or three days, beside
the River of the Dead, near a snow-white
mountain, which rose in lovely grandeur
over all the other mountains, into the autum
nal sky. A single soldier ascended the
mountain with the hope of beholding from
its summit, the rocks and spires of Quebec.
When he came down, Arnold took from
his breast, where, for four days in privation
and danger, he had carried it, a blue banner
gleaming with thirteen stars. He raised it
into the light, and for the first time the Con
tinental Banner floated over the solitudes Of
the Dead River. is a fact attested by
history and corroborated by tradition.
rta.. " Will you help me out of this mud
hole ?" said a traveling druggist, who had
just been compelled to stop his team in a
mud hole, because they couldn't pull it out.
"No, I can't stop," said the Yankee, who
was heavily loaded, and was fearful that he
would be too late for the cars.
"I would take it as a great favor, besides
paying you," said the druggist.
"What are you loaded with ?" asked the
"Drugs and medicines," was the reply.
" I guess I'll try and get you out, then, for
lam loaded with tombstones." They were
seen traveling together after that.
peirA man at Grand Rapids, Michigan,
recently jumped a distance of thirteen feet.
Ile is a dry-goods clerk, and has never been
HUNTINGDON, PA., DECEMBER 1, 1858.
THE FORTUNE OF ABDALLAH.
.Abdallah was a prosperous barber at
Shiraz. He married a woman of surpassing
beauty, belt exceedingly vain, so that his
w 1 substance was consumed in procuring
her dresses, trinkets, and the luxuries of a
hove all other woman, the wife of Has
san, the king's astrologer, was envied by the
wife of Abdallah, the unostentatious barber;
for this lady affected great grandeur, and
could afford it, on account of the large salary
and handsome presents bestowed upon her
One day the discontented beauty announ
ced to Abdallah that she would no longer con
tinue to live with him, unless he gave up the
miserable business of barber and adopt that
of astrology. In vain did he represent to her
that trimming beards was his habit, while of
astrological predictions he knew nothing; she
insisted, and the unfortunate man, infatuated
by affection, resolved to obey.
So, observing the eccentric practices of the
astrologers, he took a brass basin and a pes
tle of steel into the bazaar, and smitting his
basin, cried aloud that he would calculate na
tivities, predict the events of the future, de
tect thieves and recover lost property. His
neighbors were astonished, and all said,
"Abdallah, the barber, is certainly mad."—
But it chanced that a certain lady returning
fropi the bath, walked through the bazaar
with her veil torn; she appeared in great dis
tress, and upon hearing the cry of Abdallah,
she sent one of .her slaves to him with this
message : •
"If you are an imposter, my husband
shall cause yon to be bastinaded ; if you are
really an astrologer, inform me where I shall
find a necklace of pearls which I have lost
Poor Abdallah, bewildered gazed upon the
lady, and gaining time to invent an answer,
said : "She can see the pearls, when they
are .near, for the veil is torn 1"
These words were reported to her by the
slave, and she uttered a cry of joy.
`•Admirable prophet," she exclaimed, " I
placed my pearls for safety in a rent that is
in the bath ;" and she ordered Abdallah to
be presented with forty gold pieces.
Now it should be known that in the Per
sian baths there are screens, the name of
which is the same as the native word "veil."
So Abdallah, by a lucky accident' of speech
had 'not only saved himself from the bas
timoo, but he gained forty pieces of gold.
length' another lady, the wife of the
king's treasurer made her appearance, and
just at that moment a messenger from the
treasurer came up to Abdallah, in the bazaar,
and spoke to him. The lady stood close by
"Abdallah," said the slave, "my master
has lost the king's ()Teat rubber ; if thou hast
the wisdom of the stars, thou can'st find it;
if not, thou art a pretender, and I will assur
edly cause thee to be bastinadoed."
This time the unfortunate barber was at
his wit's end. "Oh, woman !" he exclaimed,
"thou art the author of this."
He meant his own wife, but the wife of
the treasurer, who stood by, imagined he re
ferred to her. Guilt is always pale, as the
poet says. She herself had stolen the king's
ruby, and believed that the astrologer was
aware of her crime. So when the messenger
had departed, leaving the barber petrified
with perplexity, she approached him, and
said, in a soft tone :
"0, astrologer I confess that in an hour
of avarice I took the jewel. Restore it, with
ov.t sending me to condemnation I"
Abdallah sternly replied :—"Woman,
knew thy guilt. Where is the jewel 2"
"Under the fourth cushion from the door,"
she answered, "in the apartment of Kashom,
my lord's Georgian slave."
Abdallah hastened to the palace, was re
warded with a robe of honor, a thonsand
gold pieces, and a costly ornament.
Urged by his wife, Abdallah essayed once
more. The king's treasure had been broken
open, and forty chests of money had been sto
len. The royal astrologer had tried every
sort of divination and failed, and was there
fore in disgrace. But the fame of Abdallah,
which was now spoken of in all Shiraz, had
reached the ear of the king, who sent for him
and gave him audience in the Hall of Kalmet
"Abdallah," he said, with a severe ex
pression of his face, "art thou truly able to
read. the stars ?"
" Put me to the proof !" answered the bar
ber, who was now prepared for the worst.
" Then discover the forty chests of money
which had been stolen, as well as the crimi
nal. Succeed, and then thou shalt marry a
princess, and become my minister; fail, and
I will hang thee !"
" There must have been forty thieves 1"
said Abdallah, making a fortunate and
not very difficult guess. "Grant me forty
" Forty days thou shalt have," said the
king, " and thou shalt then die, or live for
riches and honor."
So. the barber went home and told his wife,
and said, " I have forty days to live ; I will
sit upon my prayer mat and meditate on
the evils of life and the blessings of death.
Give me, I beg thee, forty beans. At the
hour of evening prayer, daily, I will give then
one, that by counting the remainder I
may remember how many days I have to
She complied; and every day, at the ex
act hour of sunset, Adallah gave• her a bean,
and said with great firmness and solemnity,
" There is one of them 1" And, on the last
day, he said, in an excited manner, " There
are the whole forty of them 1" What was
his astonishment when, at an instant, a vio
lent knocking was heard at the door 1 A
crowd of men were admitted, and one of
them, evidently the chief, said:
"0, Abdallah, wise astrologer, thou shalt
receive the forty chests of gold untouched,
but spare our lives."
In supreme bewilderment, Ahdallah an
swered, " This night I should have seized
thee and thy wretched companions ; toll me
A PERSIAN STORY.
Editor and Proprietor.
on thy head, how knowest thou that I pos
sessed this knowledge 2"
"We heard," said the chief of the robbers
"that the king had sent for thee. Therefore,
one of us came, at the hour of sunset, to lis
ten at thy door, and heard thee say, There is
one of them. We would not believe his story,
and sent two to ascertain it, and thou wast
heard to say, 'There are two of them ;' and
this night, 0 wonderful ! thou didst exclaim,
`There is the whole forty;' but restore the
king's money and do not deliver us unto the
Abdallah promised to do what he could.—
Being admitted to the palace, he declared
that, owing to some mystery of the stars, it
was given to him either to discover the
thieves or the treasure, but not both. The
monarch, at length, consented to take the
forty chests, and fulfill his promise to Ab
Meeting of the Monsters
BY ULTRA MARINE TELEGAPII
At a meeting of the monsters of the deep,
held at Cape Breton, yesterday afternoon,
the Prince of Wales was chosen President,
he stated the object of the meeting to be to
decide upon the merits of the Atlantic Cable,
its probable infringement upon the rights of
original settlers, and generally to consider
what it all meant. Suddenly, he said, they
found this cable thrust down among them,
which was calculated to deceive the small
fry, as they deemed that it was something to
eat. lle himself had rubbed his nose against
it, but could make no impression upon it. It
was a little matter, but still it was to be look
ed at as opening a way in their domain, and
he wished for a free expression on the opinion
of the meeting. Ile was convinced that
though they were fish they wouldn't be scaly
about the matter, and if everything was
satisfactory, he for one would say, let it
Thomas Cod, Esq., was one that bad been
deceived by the line, and had, in his efforts
to bite it, broken out several of his front
teeth. [A. voice in the crowd—"Go to the
dentist's and get some new ones, and charge
them to the telegraph company." lie heard
the suggestion, and perhaps should profit by
it, but his feelings were outraged by the de
J. Shark, Esq., of the detective force, said
that as he was chasing a delinquent mullet,
he came in contact with the line, and receiv
ed a severe injury in his head. He begged
the ebmpany to look at the wound. [He re
moved a large piece of kelp and revealed a
deep mark over his right eye.] He confessed
that he had been staggered by the blow,.and
asked if the company would see anybody
injured in that way.
Sergeant Swordfish, of the Marines, de
clared that he had been startled by what he
had heard. The domain of the main had
been invaded, and. he, for one, was ready to
throw away his scabbard, and go and saw off
King Fish, Esq., took the same view as
his military friend, and went in for cutting
Mr. Horse McArel thought there was cause
to suspect anything in this line they couldn't
see the end of. For his part he thought all
respectable fish should raise their tongues
and sounds against.
Jolly Porpoise, Esq., rose to speak, when
every fin seased to vibrate, and a universal
smile spread over the audience. He said
he had not come to make a speech but he was
of the opinion that he might say something, as
he usually did when he spoke. He was
for introducing, pacific measures, even though
this was in the Atlantic. [Laughter.] He
was not one to believe that that line was go
ing to effect any fish that' wits not a chowder
head. [Hear hear.] If fish could confine
themselves simply to cold water, there would
be no danger. For his part, he was disposed
to blow for the new line. [Cheers.]
Mr. O'Shun Shadd had *come to listen
rather than take any active part in the busi
ness of the meeting, but he and his compan
ion, Mr. Bluefish, from a summer visit to the
Glades, had learned to respect Yankee prow
ess, and would say if that enterprising class
of animals had anything to do with the pres
ent mysterious arrangement, he wouldn't op
pose it, because it would do no good. It was
bound to go.
Mr. Bluefish responded, "That's so !" and
a young Tautog, whose ancestor had fallen at
Compton, wiped away a briny tear, as he en
dorsed the response.
Mr. Deepsea Cod didn't see much cause for
uneasiness, although he could not feel a direct
interest in the matter, as, thanks to science,
he was now master of a little ile of his own,
which occupied him, in which his interest
was concentrated. The cry of " Liver" he
had just heard in the crowd, did not affect
him. He throw back the imputation, and
would say that through his liver many human
lights had been kept from going out. He
was a philanthropist, and was willing to sac
rifice himself so long as it would pay.
Mr. Bigg Blackfish did not apprehend
much trouble from it, only he was opposed to
Ile didn't believe in any new fangled no
tions at all, and thought that by consenting
to let the cable remain, they were encoura
ging the vagaries of the fish out of water.—
He would move the passage of the following
Resolved, That the long line across our ter
ritory is an infringement, and should not be
This resolution was discussed by Messrs.
Cod, Haddock, Dolphin, and others chiefly
in opposition, when the resolution was lost.
It was then voted that the cable be allowed
to remain, and the proceedings were ordered
to be published, to be furnished through the
cable, a battery of electrical eels having vol
unteered their services for the occasion.
After thanking the president for the po
lite and impartial manner in which he had
discharged his duties, the meeting dissolved
in deep water.—Boston Gazette.
Kie? . The public debt of the consolidated
city of Philadelphia, amounts to $20,000.
Whatever defects there may be in Home
Education, and it is a subject which for a
long time has engaged the attention of pro
found thinkers and the benevolent, it is cer
tain that the exceptions are rare, where the
moral training of the mother is not accord
ing to her best capacity, surrounding circum
stances considered, for the benefit and ad
vantage of her offspring. The mother's in
fluence is often counteracted by the habits
and examples of the father ; in such case,
the maternal parent is not responsible if her
care and teachings are of no avail.
Home education, where the parents aro
united in sentiment, leaves its impression
upon the mind and heart, which can never
be totally eradicated. The principal cause
of so many departures from the path of
right, is evil associations. The mother, en
gaged in her household affairs, has, among
the majority of those who are dependent
upon their labors for a livelihood, but little
time to devote to her children ; and as soon
as they are able to walk by themselves they
seek playmates, and the youthful mind is
readily impressed for good or evil, according
to the disposition of the associations. The
effect of these impressions are more lasting,
in most cases, than the influence and exam
ple of parents. If mothers were placed in
circumstances so that they could give the
proper attention to their children, and if
they had the co-operation of their husbands,
there would be less vice in the world.
Home education is the best for the youth
ful mind. The most determined man in
every situation of life, will, to the latest pe
riod of his pilgrimage, be influenced by the
early teachings of Ins mother, if the exam
ple and the habits of the father were in uni
son with her counsel and instruction.—Clin
One of the hardest, trials of those who fall
from affluence and honor to poverty and ob
scurity, is the discovery that the attachment
of so many in whom they confided, was a.
pretense, a mask to gain their own ends,. or
was a miserable shallowness. Sometimes,.
doubtless, it is with regret that these frivo
lous followers of the world desert those upon
whom they have fawned ; but they soon for
get them. Flies leave the kitchen when the.
dishes arc empty. The parasites that cluster•
about' the favorite of fortune, to gather his
gifts and climb by his aid, linger with the
sunshine but scatter at the approach of a
storm, as the leaves cling to a tree in sum
mer weather, but drop off at the breath of
winter, and leave it naked to the stinging
blast. Like ravens settled down for a ban
quet, and suddenly scared by a noise, how
quickly at the first sound of calamity those
superficial earthlings are mere specks on the
But a true friend sits in the centre, and is
there at all times. Our need only reveals
him more fully, and binds him more closely
to us. Prosperity and adversity are both re
vealors, the difference being that in the for
mer our friends know us, in the latter we
know them. But notwithstanding the insin
cerity and greediness prevalent among men,.
there is a vast deal more of esteem and fel
low-yearnings than is ever outwardly shown.
There are more examples of unadulterated
affection, more deeds of silent love and mag
namity, than is usually supposed. Our mis
fortunes bring to our sides real friends, before•
unknown. Benevolent impulses, where wfr
could not expect them, in modest privacy,.
enact many a scene of beautiful wonder•
amid plaudits of angels.—. North. American.
Iler'Stnall is the sum that is required to
patronize a newspaper, and most amply re
munerated is the patron. I care not how
humble and unpretending the paper which
he takes, it is next to impossible to fill it fifty
times a year without putting into it some
thing that is worth the subscription price: Eve
ry parent, whose son is at school, should supply
him with a paper. I still remember what a
difference there was between those' of my
sechoolmates who had, and those who had
not access to a newspaper. Other things be
ing equal, the first were decidedly superior
to the last, in debate and composition, at
least. The reason is plain, they have com
mand of more facts. Youths will' pursue
newspapers with delight, when they will read
nothing else.—Judge Longstreet.
ENCOURAGE BENEVOLENCE.—Good deeds
are very fruitful ; for out of one good action
of ours God produces a thousand, the harvest
whereof is perpetual. Even the faithful' ac
tions of the old patriarchs, the constant suf
ferings of ancient martyrs, live still, and do
good to all succession of ages by their exam
ple. For public actions of virtue ; besides
they are presently comfortable to the doer,
are also exemplary to others ; as they are
more beneficial to others are more crowned
in us. If good deeds wore utterly barren
and incommodious, I would seek after them
for the conscience of their own goodness ;
how much more shall I now be encouraged
to perform them for they are so profitable to
myself and others, and to myself in others.—
.An ignorant fellow who was about to
get married, resolved to make himself perfect
in the responses of the marriage service ;
but by mistake he committed the' service of
baptism, instead of that of the communion,
so when the clergyman asked him in the
church, "wilt thou have this woman to be
your wife?" the bridegroom answered in a
very solemn tone :
"I renounce them all."
The astonished minister said ; " I think
you are a fool l" to which he replied :
"All this I steadily believe."
FLATTERY.—The difference between praise
and flattery is worth attending to. It is the
difference between true coin and counterfeit.
Praise is the expression of real sentiments ;
flattery of pretended sentiments. One is the
homage of the heart; the other an artifice of
the mind. The true and base coins circulate
freely in society—and most people are so
eager for them, that they do not stop to dis
tinguish the genuine currency from the coun
41QTA wise man endeavors to shine in
himself ; a fool to outshine others; the first is
humbled by a sense of his own infirmities;
the last lifted up by the discovery of those
which he observes in others. The wise man
considers what be wants, and the fool what
he abounds in. The wise man is happy
when he gains his own approbation : and
the fool, when he recommends himself to the
applause of those about him.
small boy in Madison, Indiana, re
cently recited in Sunday School, 2,233 verses
from the Bible, which he had committed to
memory during the evenings of six preceding
days. He is capable of committing 200 verses
Friends in Prosperity