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LIST OF GRAND JURORS for a
Court of Quarter Sessions to be held at Huntingdon
in and for,the county of - Huntingdon, the second Monday
and 11th day of April, A. D. 1850 :
Joseph Cunningham, farmer, Cass.
James Chamberlain, inn keeper, Warriorsmark.
Wm. Danghenbang,h, shoemaker, Brady.
George Eby, farmer, Shirley.
James W. Galbraith, farmer. Shirley.
Samuel Gregory, farmer, West.
David Hicks, Esq., blacksmith, Cromwell.
Wm. S. Hildebrand, carpenter, Huntingdon.
Elisha B. Hissong, potter, Cassvillo.
Adam Keith, farmer, Tod.
George Lamp, farmer, Porter.
John Mnnnick, farmer, Dublin.
William Miller, farmer, 'Henderson.
Rudolph Neff, farmer, West.
George Rudy, farmer, Jackson.
Martin Shank, farmer, Warriorsmark.
Washington Stewart, farmer, Franklin.
Jacob Sharp, mechanic, Brady.
Thomas Strickler, plasterer, Huntingdon.
George Walker, carpenter, Alexandria.
Adam Warfel, blacksmith, Brady.
John Whittaker, sr., gentleman, Huntingdon.
Daniel P. Knode, farmer, Porter.
John Armon, farmer, Barree.
TRAVERSE JURORS—FrRST Wranz.
John Baker, Esq., mason, Shirley.
Peter M. Bare, clerk, Union.
Charles Ilowersox, Shirley.
Israel Baker. farmer, Tod.
David 13arrick, farmer, West.
'Hiram Brown, farmer, Springfield.
James Condorn, laborer, Brady
Thomas Covenhoven. farmer, Barree.
Isaac Curfnmn, firmer, Tod.
John Carver. farmer. Th—rea.
Henry Cornpropst, Ifuntingdon.
Isaac Donaldson, laborer, Hopewell.
.Tames Duff, mason. Jackson.
James Entrekin, farmer. Hopewell.
Alexander Ewing. teacher, Franklin.
ferry O. Etchison, iThoem aker, Cromwell.
A. W. Evans, merchant, Cass.
Benjamin Fink, farmer, Cass.
Samuel - Friedley. farmer, Henderson.
Jacob S. Gehrett, potter, Cassville.
Caleb Greenland, farmer, Cass.
.Tohn Gayten, farmer, Union.
William Glass, carpenter, Jackson.
Jacob Hight, farmer, Brady.
Moses Hamer, farmer, Walker.
- Robert 'Henderson, farmer, Warriorsmark.
Williath 'Huey, farmer, Dublin.
John lfagey, farmer. Tell.
John S. Ifenderson, laborer, Shirley.
Daniel Tisenberg,, farmer, Shirley.
Tnhn Kesselring, farmer, Springfield..
J,din Morrison, farmer, Shirley.
James McCartney, farmer, Henderson.
Charles Cl. McLaughlin. blacksmith, Shirle3
Robert Morrow, farmer. Dublin.
William Miller, farmer, West.
Henry Myers, blacksmith, Shirleysbnrg.
Richard Newman. mannfacturer, Franklin.'
David Parsons, farmer. Tell.
Thomas e. Stewart, farmer, Wel.
John Shaffer, farmer, Morris.
David IL Stonebraker. farmer, Jackson.
.Tohn Shaver, Esq., farmer, Shirley.
George B. Weaver, farmer, Hopewell.
John Weight, fltrmer, Franklin.
Caleb Wakefield, farmer, Brady.
John Westbrook, Huntingdon.
William P. Taylor, Carpenter, Clay.
TENET:ESE JURORS—SECOND WEEK.
Jacob Barnet, farmer, Cass.
Daniel Beck, blacksmith, Morris.
T. S. Berkstresser, merchant, Carbon.
William Conch, farmer, Barree.
Valentine Crouse, innkeeper, Brady.
Nicholas Cresswell, gentleman, Alexandria
Henry S. Dell, farmer. Cromwell.
John Duff, farmer, Jackson.
Levi Evans, Esq., J. P., Carbon.
E. S. Everhart, boss, Huntingdon.
Abraham Fultz, carpenter, Brady.
Isaac Gorsuch, blacksmith, Cromwell.
'Robert Green, farmer, Oneida.
James C. win, gentleman, Huntingdon.
David Grove, merchant, Huntingdon.
John Ilust, farmer, Barree.
"Richard D. Heck, farmer, Cromwell.
David householder, laborer, Walker.
Solomon Isenherg,, blacksmith, Morris.
John Ingram, farmer, Franklin.
ICenry Jamison, grocer, Brady.
John Knock, farmer, Henderson.
John Riney, farmer, Franklin.
John Love, farmer, Barree.
A. J. McCoy. miller, Franklin.
Isaac Martin, farmer, Porter,
John Montgomery, mechanic, Brady.
John Morrow, farmer, Dublin.
Magee, farmer, Dublin.
Wm. Oak., farmer, Barree.
Thomas E. Orhison, merchant, Cromwell.
John Shoop, Jr., farmer, Union.
Valentine Smitt le, farmer, Tell.
Levi Smith. farmer, Union.
George Wakefield, farmer, Shirley.
Milton Woodcock, grocer, Carbon.
March i 3. 1S5;).
TRIAL LIST FOR APRIL TERM,
1859. FIRST WEEK.
Andrew Patrick, Jr. vs. Eby, Cunningham & nem
JOllll Savage, vs. Smith & Davis.
William Curry vs. Jona.McWillifuns.
:Jacob Criswell vs. It. Hare Powell.
Leonard Weaver vs. 11. &B.T. R. 11. Sr. C. Co.
Joltu Garner vs. John Savage.
Clement's heirs vs. Jno. McCanlese, et. al.
-Tames Wall vs. Jones Wall.
Glasgow & Bair* vs. Caleb Brown.
Soil. Caldwell's admr. vs. B. X. Blair &Co
John 13. Weavers, xi:to vs. Jacob Russle.
Peter Etniro vs. Jno. Shope.
SECOND WEEK.
I3oker, Bro. Si . Co. vs. A. P. Wilson.
Jno. P. Brock vs. John Savage.
Jacob Russia vs. Jno. T. Shirley.
Margaret 'Hamilton vs. James En triken.
Valentine Creilse vs. G. W. Speer.
Fleming Holliday vs. IL Sc B. T. It.. R. &C. Co
Eph. Ross vs. Wm. McNite.
David Foster - .vs. James Entriken.
Kirkpatrick & Son vs. Wm. Hays.
Jos. Kinsel's admr. vs. Cristain Price.
Bell, Garrettson & Co. vs. Isaac Sharrer.
David Rupert vs. Frederick Schneider.
.1 as. Sart on for use vs. Nicholas Schank.
Win. Weaver vs. Entriken & Drhero.
D. limits, Assignee vs. duo. Y. Hay.
Samuel Doreen vs. James Pattison.
Tams, Jones & Co. vs. Jas. Entriken, Garnishee of
Jno. Dougherty.
Ann McMullin vs. Wm. McMullin.
Same vs. James Findley.
'Huntingdon, March 23, 1859.
1111tUSINESS MEN, TAKE NOTICE
If Tr want your card neatly printed upon envel
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APNEY.
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hilOUid have Peterson's Counterfeit Detector—for sale at
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OSGOOD'S Series of School Books,
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THE PRESBYTERIAN PSALMIST.
A collection of tunes adapted to the Psalms and
Hymns of the Presbyterian Church in the United States
of America, For Rale at
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WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL XI V.
,eit.ct Vottu.
GOOD NIGI-IT.
good night! a word so often said,
The heedless mind forgets its meaning;
'Tis only when some heart lies dead,
On which our own was leaning,
We hear in maddening music roll
That last "good night,' along the soul.
Good night! in tones that never die,
It peals along the quickening ear, '
And tender gales of memory
Forever wait it near,
When stilled the voice—oh, crush of pain—
That r, -, r shall breathe "good night" again
Good night! it mocks us from the grave,
It overleaps that strange world's bound,
From whence there flows no backward wave;
It calls from out the ground
On every side, around, above,
Good night, good night, to life and love.
Good night! oh, wherefore fildes away
The light that lived in that dear word ?
Why follows that good night no day?
Why are our souls so stirred?
Oh, rather say, dull brain, once more,
Gond night! thy time of toil is o'er.
Good night! now comet]: gentle sleep,
And tears that fall like welcome rain,
Good night! oh, holy, blest and deep
The rest that follows pain;
How should we reach God's upper
If life's long day had no "Good night?"
,cittt
[From the Red, White and. Blue.]
THE POISONED ARROW.
A STORY OF FRONTIER LIFE.
BY CAPT. 3f. D. ALEXANDER, B. S. A.
CHAPTER I.
We would carry our reader back some thir
ty years to the times when civilization was
slowly approaching- the western wilds, and
when the spirit of adventure led the hardy
pioneers out from their native villages to the
domain of the red man. One lovely morning
in June, two travelers, both well mounted,
drew their reins upon the banks of the Mis
sissippi, where now stands the flourishing
town of Red King. As their vision took in
the Wide range of water, prairie and bluff
that lay spread out before them, a look, of
satisfaction seemed to light up the features of
each, for surely their gaze never rested on a
lovelier spot. After a few moment's silence
the elder of the two dismounted from his
steed, and motioned to his companion to do the
same.
" Nay, Barton, I prefer the landscape as
seen from this position," answered his com
panion, "I shall keep my saddle until you
are ready to remount.'
"We shall go no farther!" Barton replied,
" If we are to pitch our tents in the wilder
ness, brother mine, let it be here, for we
may not find a greener spot, or one that we
should like better. See this grove of pines !
a little labor will transform it into a rus
tic palace, where Barton and Harry New
son may find the rest they are in pursuit of."
" So be it, then," _Harry answered, as he
threw himself from his horse, and unslung
the rifle from his back. " When we started,
I agreed to abide by your selection, and I
shall not question it now. • This is indeed a
lovely place ! Surely no white man" has
ever before set his foot upon this solitude,
never pressed the rich soil beneath us.—
Let us be the first to awake the slumbering
echoes."
Ere his brother could stop him, Harry
raised his rifle to his shoulder, and pulled
the trigger. From crag to crag, from valley
to valley, the sound of the report flew, dis
turbing the stillness that had hitherto been
almost felt, and driving many a feathered
resident screaming into the air.
" You will learn better in time, Harry !"
Barton said. " Never again waste a shot,
even for a whim. You may need all your am
munition ere long. We are now in the ter
ritory of the Dacotahs, and must keep a care
ful watch against surprise."
" You surely are not alarmed at our ab
sence from the settlements, or fearful of the
Indians ?"
"No I I only wish to meet them in the
broad light of day, face to face. We shall
soon make friends of them if they approach
us thus; but they may not stop to form friend
ships if they come upon us unaware."
" I have felt your powers of pursuasion,
and judging from their influence upon me,
cannot doubt your winning
qualities. For
myself not being so gifted,l shall keep my
rifle always ready to act as an interpreter."
" Come, then, let us prepare a shelter.—
We can so weave these boughs as to form a
very respectable house for the present. Out
with your hatchet man, and to work."
" Suppose I make a fire, and roast this
piece of venison. We shall be hungry when
our task is done."
" Always providing for the appetite !
Well, be it so. Be careful, however, that
you do not let your fire get among the dry
branches, else we shall have a general con
flagration."
"We will
. postpone such a pyrotechnic
display until the fourth of the coming
month."
In conversation like to this passed two or
three hours, during which the brothers work
ed industriously, and found that they had,
when the venison was ready for them, provi
ded a very comfortable cabin:
" I will just dip my cup in the stream
there," said Harry, " and try the properties
of this .water, hold on I put up your knife
until I return. We must start fair ! I ob
ject to your cutting off the finest pieces in
advance."
" Nay, you need not indulge any alarm,
you shall have the first cut; hurry then, for
I am almost famishing."
Harry sprang down the bank, and bent
over the swift current. As he was in the act
of dipping up the water, an arrow from
some unseen bow piercedhis arm, and pinned
rp
A 41
•€ - - Ar 4 : 7
I®.
it to his side. A sudden faintness seemed to
seize upon him, yet with the other hand he
scooped up the liquid, and commences the
ascent. But ere he could reach the top of the
bluff, he sank exhausted upon the sward.—
Had not the large trunk of a tree intervened,
he would undoubtedly have rolled down the
mountain again.
" This cursed arrow Must be poisoned !"
he thought, " for I can feel its influence
stealing through my system, numbing and
paralyzing my every faculty. If I could
but make Barton hear ! What ho ! brother !
Barton I"
So rapid had been the action of the irrita
ting agent, wherewith the weapon had been
charged, that his voice seemed to have be
come affected, and he could do little more
than whisper. Meanwhile, Barton had be
come somewhat annoyed at his brother's ab
sence. lie had half a mind to commence an
attack upon the venison which was fast
growing cold, but he bethought him that he
had better look down upon the , ifver, to see
what detained the youngster. lie stood upon
the edge of the bluff, but as far as he could see,
there were no signs of the missing brother.
Barton now grew anxious, he could form no
satisfactory. reason for this .disappearanee.—
There could be but one solution of the myste
ry ; the Dacotahs must have been watching
them, and succeeded in capturing Harry.—
This conclusion arrived at, he turned to look
far up the river, where arose upon the still
air a tall column of smoke, that told him that
he was near some Indian encampment.
"Yes, it must be so !" he muttered, as an
agony of feeling stole across his soul. "My
poor brother has been made, thus early in
his frontier experience, a prisoner, by those
cursed savages. But he shall be rescued, or
if tno late for that, avenged!"
Without further delaTy, he unhitched his
horse from the limb to which it had been fas
tened while quietly grazing, replaced his sad
dle, examined the priming of his rifle, and
vaulted upon his animal.
" Now Barbary," he almost shouted, "you
must bear your part nobly in this enterprise.
We must bring back my brother, or return
not at all."
Os the sound of the fleet footsteps died in
the distance, and an unbroken silence brood
ed once more over the spot, there shot from
the opposite bank a light canoe propelled by
the practised hands of a young and beautiful
forest maiden. With the rapidity of light
ning it sped across the waters and touched at
the very spot where Ilarry had received his
wound. As it grazed the beach, the girl
sprang lightly from it, and ran swiftly up
the bank to the place where the young man
had fallen. She arrived just in time to see
him stretch himself out with an agony of
pain, throw his arms wildly above his head,
and sink almost insensible back again. She
bent' over him, and in a sweet whisper,
said :
"Come with me ! the warrior's arrow has
wounded the white bird, who flew to our for
ests for a home; but Ahtawahta will save the
life of the pale face. Quick, to my canoe, or
the chieftains of my tribe will discover us. I
saw you fall from yonder grove, watched the
movements of the Dacotahs, and am here to
save you. Ahtawahta is not very strong ;
but she can at least guide you to her hut
among the bushes there. You will die if you
do not come."
With such gentle words the maiden strove
to rouse him for the effort, and finally suc
ceeded. lle had sense enough remaining to
know that if he did not accompany her, his
hours of life were numbered. He had heard
of the medicinal knowedge that the Indians
possessed, and he doubted not that she could
aid him.
"My brother 2" he said faintly.
"Will return to this spot, and await your
coming ; he has gone to se — el you. He will
never leave until he meets you again. When
the sickness has passed, Ahtawahta will bring
you here. Come, ere the warriors of my race
shall discover you ?"
By a series of painful efforts Harry at last
reached the canoe, into which he was assisted
by his fair guide.
" Now you must trust yourself to Ahtawah
ta, who by the help of the great spirit will
draw this arrow from your arm, and heal the
wound. She would thus atone for the cruel
ty of him who drew the bow."
As Harry felt himself lifted from the frail
barque, he cast a grateful look upon his pre
server, and became unconscious.
Pour months had passed ere Harry was
amain able to leave the mats whereon he had
reposed, in an utter prostration. The fever
had at last left him, but he was very weak.
Ahtawahta had clung to him with a singular
devotion, and had been true to her promise.
Aided by a couple of aged squaws, she had
brought him from the very gates of death
far on to health. We find her now, after the
lapse of so many weeks, still by his side,
either administering some restorative, or sit
ting at his feet, listening to the strange stories
of the white man's home.
" You will soon leave the wilderness,"
sighed the maiden, "and I shall see you no
more. Four moons have passed since I saw
you—they have been happy days to -me, but
'O must part. Look from this door upon the
scene without. Already the leaves are with
ering and dying in the cool autumn blasts.
Ere long the storm king will ride upon the
wind, and wrap earth in its cold embrace.
You will go to meet the warm hearts that
watch you, while Ahtawahta, will grow cold
as the snow. The winter will blight her very
heart."
Harry turned from 'the contemplation of
the landscape to the bright eyes of the fair
child of nature beside him. Ile read in their
dark meaning, words that sent the warm
flush to his cheek. His arm rested upon her
shoulder and almost encircled her neck, join
ing his hands he pressed her to his bosom.
" Alitawalita," he whispered, " I love you,
and must never leave this spot. Be mine,
and let me here livo and die 1" •
With a glad smile the maiden raised her
moist lips to his ; but ere he could press them,
a shadow stole across her face, her head droop-
HUNTINGDON, PA., MARCH 30, 1859.
CHAPTER 11.
-PERSEVERE.-
ed again, as she murmured sadly—
" No, no !it must not be This has been
a pleasing dream to the forest maid, but it
cannot be realized. In a few moons Harry
would tire of his Indian bride, and would
long for the associations that be bad aban
doned. Better leave me now than then."
- " Ahtawahta believes that there is truth in
the heart?"
" Yes I but affection may grow cold—"
" Listen to me dearest! My life was pre
served by you, and to you it should be devo
ted. Do not suppose that I wish merely to
repay the debt—that I can never do ; but
over and above all other considerations is the
love that can be answered by possession. I
could not breathe a word of harm to you! I
have left no one in the far off home of my
childhood, for whose society I can languish.
Fear not, then, my truth, for by the light of
that great sun I swear—"
"No ! not for me! The great Manitou
will not hear an oath. I am yours forever !
If in some future hour your heart should
wander back to the friends of earlier days, I
will bid you depart and lay me down to die.
At least you will be mine till then."
She did not longer hesitate, but with an
impassioned gesture, clung about his neck,
while Harry imprinted innumerable kisses
upon her yielding lips.
As they stood thus, the sound of horses
hoofs falling rapidly upon the soft turf, roused
them from their absorption—at the same mo
ment one of the two squws that had been in
attendance upon the youthful pair, rushed in
and spoke a few hurried words to Ahtawahta,
and left the hut again.
" Wahpeta tells me that our warriors arc
in pursuit of a white man, who is urging his
horse towards the crossing here. Let us go
forth, for we may save him."
" It may be my brother !" exclaimed Harry
with a glad smile, as they passed hand in
hand out into the forest. Soon the pursuers
and pursued appeared in the distance. Har
ry at once recognized in the white man his
brother.
"It is he ! it is Barton. Heavens !he will
be killed I"
" Not so ! He is my brother now," an
swered maiden proudly, " and not one of
our trrlthall dare to molest him."
As the horseman drew near, Harry
. cried,
" Stop, brother I Barton, do you not know
me ? It is your brother Harry that calls."
Although the rider heard the voice and
recognised it, he could not check his steed
untii•he had fairly reached the edge of the
river. Ahtawahta placed herself directly in
the way of the pursuers, and with a motion
bade them pause. A short parley ensued at
the end of which the Dacotahs turned their
horse's heads and rode back from whence
they had come. •
Barton soon made known t us brother the
various events that he had passed through as
he followed for months the trails of different
tribes of Indians in search of the lost one,
until his hopes died out, and he turned to re
trace his steps ; how ho had been met by
those who were following him, and had to
run for his life.
Harry Newson and his Indian bride lived
to see a flourishing town grow up upon the
spot where they first met, for he never left
her in life. .
A Lesson for Boys and Girls.
Young readers, do you know the little ani
mals—birds, beasts, and insects, are good
mechanics, skilled in business and building
operations ? This is true ; and what they do
is done systematically, with neatness and
despatch. Nor do they idle, lounge about,
or stop to play, till the work is done, and well
done.
The Otter and the Heron are the fishermen,
though they use neither line nor net. The
Otter we seldom see, for he works his traps
mostly under water; but the Heron may
often be seen standing with his long, thin
legs in the shallow part of the stream, sud
denly plunging his long bill below the surface
and bringing up a fish.
Ants are day laborers, and very industri
ous in their calling; they always seem in
earnest at their work. Catch them asleep in
daytime, if you can ! They set us an exam
ple of industry.
"Ants freely work without disguise,
Their ways consider and ba wise."
The swallow is a fly-catcher ; and the num
ber that he daily catches would astonish you.
You often see him in his vocation skimming
along the surface of the brook or pond.
The beaver is a wood-cutter, a builder and
a mason ' • a very good workman at all these
trades. Ile fells the small trees with his
teeth, and after he has built his house, he
plasters it carefully with his tail trowel.
The wasp is a paper maker, in his building.
Ills paper is water-proof, and made of mate
rials that no other paper maker would use.
Look at the curious wasps' and hornets' paper
dwellings—not patented are they?
Singing birds are amateur musicians, and
excel all others in harmony. 'Hardly can we
decide which of them excels—the lark, the
robin, the thrush, or the nightingale.
"On the feathery wing they rove,
And wake with horniony the grove."
The fire fly and the glow-Worm are lamp
lighters. The bee is a professor of geome
try ; for he constructs his cell so scientifical
ly, that the least possible amount of materi
als is formed into the largest spaces, with the
least waste of room. Not all the mathema
ticians of Cambridge could improve the con
struction of his cells. Nor can the best her
metrical sealers among us preserve provis
ions so well.
The caterpiller is a silk spinner, far ex
celling any other in his line of business ; in
deed we could not learn an art that would
supply any silk worth the name without
him.
With what wonderful properties and pow
ers has it pleased our Heavenly Father to
endow the lowly creatures
Young friends, is not this wonderful, mar
velously wonderful ? Who endowed these
animals with wisdom ? God ! Who of us
could make cells or honey like the bee, silk
like the silk worm, or music like the singing
birds ? Truly the goodness of God is seen in
all his works.
A little baby lay in the cradle, and Trope
came and kissed it. When its nurse gave it a
cake, Hope promised another to-morrow ; and
when its young sister brought a flower, over
which it clapped its wings and Crowed, Hope
told of brighter ones, which it would gather
for itself.
The babe grew to a child, and another friend
came and kissed it. Her name was Memory.
She said "look behind thee, and tell me what
thou seest." The child answered, "I see a
little book." And Memory said, "I will teach
thee how to get honey from the book that
will be sweet to thee when thou art old."
The child became a youth. Once when he
went to his bed, Hope and Memory stood by
the pillow. Hope sang a melodious song,
and said "Follow me, and every morning
thou shalt wake with a smile, as sweet as the
pretty lay I sang thee."
But Memory said, "Hope, is there any
need that we should contend ? He shall be
mine as well as thine. And we shall he to
him as sisters all his life long.
So he kissed Hope and Memory, as he was
beloved of them both. While he slept peace
fully, they sat silently by his sid,e weaving
rainbow tissues into dreams, When he woke,
they came with the lark, to bid him good
morning, and he gave a hand to each.
He became a man. Every day Hope gui
ded him to his labor, and every night he sup
ped with Memory at the table of Knowledge.
But at length Age found him and turned
his temnles grey. To his eye the world seem
ed altered. Memory sat by his elbow chair,
like an old and tried friend. He looked at
her seriously, and said, "last thou not lost
something that I entrusted to thee ?"
And she answered, "I fear so ; for the lock
of my casket is worn. Sometimes I am
weary and sleepy, and Time purloins my
key. But the gems that thou didst give me
when life was new—l can account fur all—see
how bright they are."
While they thus sadly conversed, Hope put
forth a wing that she had not worn, folded
under her garment, and tried its strength in
heavenlya fli g ht.
The old man laid down to die, and. when
his soul went forth from the body, the angels
took it. And Memory walked with it through
the open gate of heaven. But Hope lay
down at its threshold and gently expired, as
a rose giveth out its last odors.
Her parting sigh was like the magic of a
seraph's harp. She breathed it into a glori
ous form and said, "Immortal happiness ! I
bring thee a soul that I have led through the
world. It is now thine. Jesus hath redeem
ed it."
An able writer expatiating on the well-es
tablished truth that intellectual culture, car
ried on without sufficient bodily exercise, will
very soon of itself run down the finest origi
nal constitution, especially if commenced too
early in life, refers to some interesting facts
by way of illustration, to which we would
call the attention of our readers.
Every year, he says, we perceive the evi
dences of increased inattention to all sorts of
means for the renovation of the physical con
stitution in our large cities. In Boston, where
twenty years ago, hardly a child was born
without the seeds of consumption in its lungs,
there is, in many of the best families, a mark
ed physical improvement, the results of cul
ture. At Cambridge, the Faculty are pat
ronizing cricket and rowing matches, because
they have found the tendency to a physical
decay so strew , - among the best students,
without something of the kind. The yacht
ing clubs of New York and Newport, the bath
ing in summer, and the skating in winter—
in-fact, the general tendency everywhere to
cultivate and. cherish sports and develop the
physique, afford a proof of the felt necessity of
more attention to health. Mere sports, though
they may abate the tendency to decline, are
not enough to avert slow and sure decay. A
man's duties must be so arranged as to em
brace a fair share of physical exercise, or else
he mast become a mere sporting character.
There is this great danger with many
. of
these sports in this country, they are not in
digcnious ; many of them, like cricket, not
adapted to the extreme heat of our summer
weather, which is quite unknown in England,
and many others, very apt to produce habits
of dissipation, quite as injurious as the evils
they would cure.
But it is not so mucli in the physical cul
ture of men as of women, that the chief de
fect of our present social system lies. Our
women.are pretty at seventeen and old at twen
ty. The English nobility set a much higher
value on beauty of form and figure than we
do, and a really fine-looking girl without a
penny or fortune, is thought a better match
by the - most calculating wealthy parents, than
a dough-faced specimen of fashionable breed
ing with quite a fortune. It is by the intro
duction of new blood that the stock of the
most ancient families is preserved.
Among ourselve while all invigorating hab
its and sports ought to be encouraged, it is
not from those cultivated as foreign sports
that we have -most to hope. It should he
rather the development of our national.re
sources.
NEW MUSIC.-" Do the ladies play music
at the West, sir ?" asked a young lady of a
western green-looking
customer.
" Oh, very universally, Miss," was the re-
P l -
" Indeed, I was not aware of that ; do they
use the piano mostly ?"
" Never, Miss. The instrument that we
have out our way is the Swinette, and the
Girls all play it."
" 0, dear, I am sure, positively, that I nev
er heard of that before; do tell what it is, and
how they play it."
" Well, the instrument is a small pig, and
each one takes one of these under her arm
and chews the end of his tail, and that brings
out the music."
Western "green" was tho lion for the bal
ace of that evening.
Editor and Proprietor.
Hope and Memory.
BY MRS. L. 11. SIGOURNY
Physical Education
xl,'•.Think twice before you speak
A nice, respectable lady, not a thousand
miles away, had long noticed, to her dismay,
that her " worser half" was growing foolish
ly suspicious and jealous of her. She resolv
ed to teach him a leSson.
Some evenings since, as he was leaving,
she told him he need not hurry back—she
would not be lonely—she wished her ducky
to enjoy himself, etc. Benedict smelt a ver
itable mice, under that hypocracy, and re
solved to be avenged. About 8 o'cleok "an
individual," about his size, might have been
seen creeping cautiously along to the door,
and noiselessly Benedict peeped in. Just as
he expected, there they were—a pair of boots
—a coat on the back of a chair, and a hat on
the table. Benedict shivered like an aspen
leaf, as he stopped, pulled of his boots, and
drew a pistol from his coat pocket. With
"resolution flashing from his eye," he made
tracks for the bed-room. There he was
kneeling at the bed-side, coat and vest off,
and his head on the pillow. Miserable vil
lain—his time had come.
NO. 40.
" Say your prayers, villain—your time la
short"—and a flash and a report told that
the bullet had sped on its fatal mission.
"Help ° murder ! watch ! Oh, is thatyou?"
and Madame popped her little head up from
the foot of the bed.
Benedict seized the body, and it was—a
miscellaneous collection of old coats, vests,
pillows, handkerchiefs, and the like, made
un for the occasion.
"I say, my dear, what does all this mean ?"
exclaimed the husband, with a blank, sheep
ish look.
" Well, dear," replied the wife, " I did get
lonely after all, and just amused myself by
dressing up that puppet, and making believe
you were at home. I'm sure, I didn't think
you'd suspect—"
" There, there," said the chagrined hus
band, " say no more about it; I thought it
was a robber ; dear creature, Pm so glad it
didn't hit you."
Benedict repeated, "Now I lay me down,"
etc., - and went to bed, resolved not to watch
any more at present.— Chattanooga .Adrerti
ser.
How Poor Young Men May Succeed.
Young man aro you poor and without the
means of splurging in life, as you launch up
on its billows? Is your father poor and un
able to give you an outfit ? Be not disheart
ened on account of all this. Take an earnest
hold of life, and never regard yourself in any
other light than that of being destined to a
high and noble purpose. Study closely the
bend of your own mind for labor or a profes
sion. Whatever you resolve upon, do it ear
ly ; follow it steadily and untiring ; never
look backward to what you have encountered,
but always forward to what is within your
grasp. The world owes every Ain a com
fortable living, and a respectable position in
society ; means are abundant to every man's
success ; and men have only to adopt will and
action to them.
To repine over a want of money and prop
erty, to start out in the world with, and over
the want of the props of influential relatives,
is unmanly. Let a young man strive to cre
ate a fortune, rather than seek to inherit one.
It is an ignoble spirit that leads ayoung man
to borrow instead of bequeathing means. Go
forth into the world, young man, conscious
of God within you, and his providence over
you, and fight your own way to distinction to
honor and to comfort. Pity in your inmost
soul the young man who, without any change
is unable to support himself, and is whining
around, and begging the influence of others,
to get him into employment ! Feel, under
all circumstances, that it is more noble, more
honorable to eat the crust you have earned,
than to flourish with coppers inherited. You
may lift your head proudly to face and con
front the noblest among us, when you are
concious of being the architect of your own
fortunes. Young man areyou poor ? Be
honest, be virtuous, be industrious; hold up
your head, and say by your actions and looks,
what the poet said in words :
[From the New Haven News.]
During sixty years resident in New York
it was my custom when the birthday of
Washington came round, to get the following
anecdote inserted in one or two of the daily
papers. A good story is not the worse for
being twice told, nor a good sermon the worse
for being twice read. In 1706, I heard the
farmer referred to, narrate the following in
cident. Said he :
" When the British army held possession
of New York, and Washington with the
American army lay near West Point, ono
morning I went out at sun-rise to bring home
the cows. In passing a clump of brush-wood
I heard 'a moaning sound like a person in
distress. On nearing the spot I heard the
words of a man at prayer. I listened be
hind a tree. The man came forth—it was
George Washington, the Captain of the Lord's
host in North America."
This farmer was a member of the Society
of Friends, who, being opposed to war under
any pretext, was lukewarm, and in some cases
opposed to the cause of the country. This
farmer was a tory. However, having seen
the General enter the camp, ho went to his
own house, and said to his wife, " Martha,
we must not oppose this war any longer.—
This morning I heard the man George Wash
ington send up a prayer to Heaven for his
country, and I know it will be heard." This
Friend dwelt between the lines of the two
armies, and subsequently gave Washington
many items concerning the movements of the
enemy,• which rendered good service to the
American cause.
From this incident we may infer that
Washington rose with the sun to pray for
his country, he fought for her at meridian,
and watched for her at midnight.
Now, Mr. Printer, I advise every editor of
a newspaper between Montauk point and the
Rocky Mountains, if three drops of Ameri
can blood is running in their veins, that they
insert this anecdote in their daily or weekly
journal every twenty-second of February,
{Washington's birth-day,) as long as trees
grow and water runs.
I voted three years•while Washington was
President—l married three bonnie Yankee
lasses—this, I think, is being naturalized
enough, in all good conscience. I therefore
hold myself an American to all intents and
purposes. This day I enter my 87th year.
GRANT THORD URN.
New Haven, Feb. 18, 1859.
PLEASANT YOUTH !-,—"lkly son," said a do
ting father, who was about taking his son in
to business, "what shall be the style of the
new firm ?" "Well, governor," said the one
and twenty youth, looking up to find an an
swer, "I don't know : but suppose we call it
John 11. Samplin i Father,"
A Smart Women
"I scorn the man who boosts his birth,
And boasts his titles and his lauds.
Who takes his name and heritage
From out a father's dying bands."
Anecdote of General Washington.