TERMS OF TEE GLOBE.
Per annum in advance
Six months
Three months
A failure to notify a discontinuance at the expiration of
the term subscribed for will be considered a new engage
ment.
TERMS OF ADVERTISING.
)
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one year, $3 00
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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.
FISHER &- M'MURTRIE
ARE NOW OPENING
The largest and best selected Stock of Goods
over offered in this community.
It comprises a full line of Fashionable
Dress Goods, suitable for FALL & WINTER, such as Black
and Fancy Silks, French and English Merinos, All Wool
Do Laines, (plain and colored,) Nauvau Plaid, Tanjore
Lustre, Figured Cashmere, Plaids, Mousline Be Laines,
Coburgs, Alpaccas, De Barge, Gingham, Prints, &c.
A large and beautiful assortment of Fall
and Winter Shawls, consisting of Stellar. Double Reversa
bles, Single and Double Brocha,Waterloo, Single and Double
Wool Gents Traveling Shawls, &c. A full stock of La
dies' Fine Collars, Gentlemen's Furnishing Goods, such as
Collars, Cravats, Ties, Stocks, Hosiery, Shirts, Gauze and
Silk Undershirts, Drawers, izc.
We have a fine selection of Mantillas,
Dress Trimmings, Fringes, Ribbons, Mitts, Gloves, Gaunt
lets. 'Hosiery, Handkerchiefs, Buttons, Floss, Sewing Silk,
Extension Skirts, Hoops of all kinds, &c.
Also—Tickings, Osnaburg, Bleached and.
Unbleached Muslins, all prices; Colored and White Cam
bric°. Barred and Swiss Muslins, - Victoria Lawns, Nein
souks, Tarleton, and many other articles which. comprise
the line of WHlTtrand DOMESTIC GOODS. -
French Cloths; Fancy Cassimers, Satinets, Jeans, Tweeds,
Denims, Blue Drills, Flannels, Lindseys, Comforts, Blank
ets, 8:c.
Hats and Caps, of every variety and style.
A Good Stock of G ROCERLES, HARDWARE, QUEENS
WARE, BOOTS and SHOES, WOOD and WILLOW-WARE,
which will be sold Cheap.
We also deal in PLASTER, FISH, SALT, and all kinds
of GRAINS. and possess facilities in this branch of trade
unequalled by any. We deliver all packages or parcels of
Merchandise, free of charge, at the Depots of the Broad Top
and Pennsylvania Railroads.
COME ONE; COME ALL, and be convinced that the Me
tropolitan is the• place to secure fashionable and desirable
goods, disposed of at the lowest rates,
Huntingdon, Oct. 4, 1859.
N EWS! NEWS I ! NEWS !!!
NEW GOODS,
NEW GOODS,
NEW GOODS,
AT BEN JACOBS'
AT BEN JACOBS'
CIIE AP CORNER,
CHEAP CORNER.
BENJ. JACOBS has now upon his shelves a large and
full assortment of
FALL AND WINTER GOODS,
comprising a very extensive assortment of
LADIES' DRESS GOODS, DRY GOODS,
READY-MADE CLOTHING, GROCERIES. HATS & CAPS,
BOOTS k. SHOES, &c., eec.
His stock of CLOTHING for men and boys is complete—
every article of wear will be found to be good and cheap.
Full suits sold at greatly reduced prices—panic prices—
which will be very low.
His entire stock of Goods will compare with any other
In town, and the public will do well to call and examine
before purchasing elsewhere.
As I am determined to sell my goods, bargains may be
expected, so all will do well to call.
Country Produce taken in Exchange for Goods.
BENJ. JACOBS, Cheap Corner.
Huntingdon, Oct. 4, 1859.
81:0;000. RWARD!!
MO E SES. STROUS,
Fain rink the above sum that he can Sell Goode, to every
body, at prices to suit the times. His stock has been re
aewed for FALL and WINTER, and he invites all to
call and examine for themselves.
His stock consists of every variety of
LADIES' DRESS GOODS,
DRY GOODS, OF ALL KINDS,
_ .
READY—MADE CLOTIIING,
Such as Over Coats, Frock Coats, Dress Coats, Jackets,
Vests. Pants, &c.
BOOTS and SHOES, HATS and CAPS, of all sizes, for
old and young.
GROCERIES, of the best; QXTEENSWARE. &c., &c.
The public generally are earnestly invited to call and
examine my new atock of Goods, and be convinced that I
can accommodate with Goods and Prices, all who are look
ing out for great bargains.
AM kinds of Country Produce taken in exchange for
Goods. MOSES STROUS.
Huntingdon, Oct. 4, 1859.
AA OBT. KING,
)
MERCHANT TAILOR,
Hilt Street, one door west of Cannon's Store,
Has just returned from the City with a splendid assort
ment of
CLOTHS,
CASSIMERES, and
PLAIN and FANCY VESTINGS,
which ho will make up to order in the best workman-like
manner.
„Thankful for past favors, a continuance of the same is
respectfully solicited.
ROM. KING.
Huntingdon, Oct. 4,1859-3 m.
BOOTS AND SHOES,
HATS AND CAPS,
CALF-SKINS AND LININGS,
LASTS AND FINDINGS.
LEVI WESTBROOK,
Ilas just opened his new stock of
BOOTS and SHOES for men, women, boys, -misses and
children. All kinds of styles for Ladies can be found at
his store. and the men will not find fault with his stock
for their wear.
His old customers and the public generally, will please
call and examine his extensive stock.
His stock of Calf-skins, Linings, Lasts and Findings,
will please all in the trade.
LEVI WESTBROOK.
Huntingdon, Oct. 4,1859. .
HROMAN
0 H. ROMAN
N2W CLOTHING
JUST RECEIVED,
• NEW CLOTFIING
JUST RECEIVED,
NEW CLOTHING
JUST RECEIVED,
Chtil
Roman's
Clothing
Store
for
your
Clothing.
Huntingdon, Oct. 4, 1859
ELL, GARRETTSON & CO.,
•
RAZTICERS,
• HUNTINGDON, PA,
A general Banking business done. Drafts on Philadel
phia. Pittsburg, &c., constantly for sale. Money received
nn deposit, payable on demand without interest, or on
time with interest at fair rates.
August 17, 1859.*
B LANK BOOKS,
or VARIOUS SIZES, for sale at
LEWIS' 400 K ,A. ND STATIONERY STORE.
ENVELOPES-
By the box, pack, or less q uantity, for sale at
ZBWIS' BOOK AND STATIONERY STOBE.
IVRAPPING PAPER !
A good article for sale at
• ' L'ENVIS' BOOK STORE
DON'T FAIL to see " SIXTH AN
NIIA4 ANNOUNCEMENT," and brilliant offers, in
another cobamp. • •
T is a fact that Fisher & MoMurtrie have
the Largest and cheapest stock of Goode in town.
$1 50
FISHER & lI'MURTRIE
H. ROMAN!
H. ROMAN !
H. ROMAN 1
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XV.
,stlett V ottrg.
WREN I DIE.
Will the friends I love be near ire
When I die?
Will they shrink to touch the pallor
Of the lips that turn to meet them,
Trembliug with the last " Good-bye?"
May my father's arm enfold me
When I die,
Tey will shield my heart from terror
When I go to meet the shadows
That beneath the flowers lie ?
And my mother, sweetest mother,
When I die,
I would have thy voice to soothe me
'Till it mingled with the music
Of the angels in the sky.
Brothers, sisters, kiss me often,
When I die,
And my lips will smile in closing
As if clasped in dreams so golden
That I will not wake to sigh.
Ah, the world will soon forget me
When I die,
And its flowers will bloom as brightly
And its birds sing as sweetly,
Though I loved them and I die.
G ititrt tonj.
[From the California Golden Eagle]
A DUEL BY CANDLE-LIGHT.
It was in the winter of 1851—the 17th of
November. Well do I remember the day
—not alone from the circumstances I am
about to relate, but—but no matter. The
experience of every early adventurer here
is dotted with enduring landmarks, to guide
the noiseless step of recollection hack through
the dim vistas of the past, and lengthen the
great way of life. Broad, this evening, is
the road we travel to-day, and flowers still
blossom besides it, and thorns linger in the
sight ; but further back, and it narrows into
a thread-like path, along which the flowers
lie dead and scentless, and touching here and
there at a moment of bliss, a sepulchre of
hope, or approaches the confines of memory,
and is soon lost to sight.
Well, it was the 17th of November. The
day had been a dreary, driziy one, and as
night approached, the wind lulled,' and a
heavy fog rolled like a mighty avalanche of
snow over the hills west of San Francisco,
and settled in a thick, almost drenching, mist
over mudy streets and house tops. • 'Twas in
deed, a chilly, cheerless evening, and we do
not wonder then, nor do we now, that the
gambling houses were crowded, and the bars.
of the drinking saloons thronged, for the city
was full of strangers, and promenading the
half-paved streets by the light of an occasion
al door lamp, could scarcely be deemed posi
tive enjoyment.
The "El * Dorado" was the great centre of
attraction. It was not only one of the largest
and most substantial structures in the city,
but its proprietors were men whose wealth
was counted by tens of thousands, and every
bank in its capacious saloon was loaded with
golden slugs and ounces. Through the room
were ranged no less than twenty tables, at
which were played faro, monte, vinget un
rouge et noire, lansquanet, and a variety of
other games, the very names of which have
escaped me, while from a raised platform,
poured a continuous flood of exquisite music
from a band of the best musicians in the
country. The finest musical talent in the
State found employment in the gambling sa
loons in San Francisco and Sacramento, and
many of the most noted performers in the
country to-day, made their debut before an
audience of gamblers. Simonton, the well
known violinist, and Pettinos, one of the best
pianists, in the State, for two years occupied
together the platform of the "El Dorado" at
Sacramento, receiving $64 per day for their
service, and the very firstmusician once led.
an orchestra at another gambling house in
the " City of the Plains.'
As we said before, the " El Dorado" was
crowded. Many were betting and venturing
their last dollar with an unconcern charac
teristic of the time, while as many more were
elbowing their way from one table to another,
with no other object than the gratification of
their curiosity, and the vain hope of seeing
some desperate gambler " tan" a bank and
win it. A dozen or more were reeling
through the saloon, entirely too wealthy, in
their own estimation, to even covet the piles
of lucre around them, while not a few might
be observed, with their bands jammed into
their empty pockets, staring abstractedly at
the progress of the game that had relieved
them of their last ounce.
The band had commenced its second per
formance for the evening, and seemed' intent
in boisterous execution to drown the clamor
of clinking silver, when a tall, muscular
looking miner stepped in .front of 'the door,
and gazing a moment at the scene within,
buttoned up his thick coat around him, and
started down Washington street. He .was
coarsely . but comfortably clad. A pair of
heavy brown whiskers covered his face, and
the broad brim of a_slouched hat almost res
ted upon his shoulders.
" This way, Jane," said a voice to a fe
male who had just emerged from a small
wooden building immediately , below, the "El
Dorado" and stood hesitating beside a pool of
mud and water. The miner stopped, and as
the woman carefully selected a stepping
place, and sprang to the pavement, he invol
untarily caught her by the arm, Somewhat
surprised at the prompt assistance, she gazed
into his sunburnt face for a moment, and
thankinghim politely, passed on with her com
panion, who had taken a more circuitous but
less dangerous (to his polished boots) route to
the sidewalk.
Hesitating for a moment, the miner turned
and followed. He started as he saw her en
ter a gambling saloon. Pushing his way
through the crowd, he next discovered her
seated behind a monte table. We do not
wonder that his dark eyes flashed—for her
sweet face was pale and care-worn, and the
smiles that played upon it were as meaning-
~,,,, ...,,,,:,
i
-, ,L ~ .i . . .
gl V . v
! k - ti'
:.. ..
14yrt ~ ..4.: 'IS'
.li:tf..
.4';'
less as a wayside moonbeam. 'Her compan
ion, who " called" and cashed the games as
she turned the cards, was what any lady,
without a too careful scrutiny of the face,
would have pronounced a fine looking - man.
He was dressed in the extreme of good, taste,
with exception, perhaps, of too great a dis
play of jewelry. His features were regular,
and his eyes piercing and restless ; but that
proud curl of the lip, which not unfrequently
denotes firmness and manly independence, in
him was a repulsive indication of .reckless
ness and disdain.
The cards were shuffled, and a "lay out"
given.
" Make your bets, gentlemen," sang out
the gambler, while he jingled a pile of sil
ver before him; "a jack and a ten—make
your bets."
Pulling his hat over his eyes, the miner
approached the table, and carelessly tossed
a. golden ounce upon the ten. The .dealer
looked up, and again her eyes met those of
the unshorn stranger. She knew not why—
for a thousand eyes had gazed as intently
into hers before—but the color mounted to
her cheek, and she involuntarily admonished
the miner to withdraw his bet. The indica
tion, slight though it appeared, was not lost
on the gambler, who answered it with a frown
dark as midnight, - and turned a searching
stare upon the stranger, who met it with a
glance of defiance that brought the hand of
the gambler to the hand of a revolver in his
belt. The woman observed all. The miner
quietly folded his arms, Mad the dealer, with
trembling hand, proceeded to draw the cards.
The jack won. Again the cards were dealt,
and two ounces were thrown down by the
stranger instead of one. He lost a second
time, and again, and a pile of golden pieces
had been transferred from his pocket to the
table..
" Let your husband deal," said the loser,
addressing the woman, " perhaps it may
change my luck !"
At the mention of the word
,"husband," a
peculiar smile rested upon his lips, and the
eyes of the woman dropped to the table, as
if to avoid the scrutiny of the stranger, that
he might not read in them a confession that
she had no husband, although she was a
mother. But he read all.
Again the cards were dealt. There was a
perceptible nervousness of the hand, and a
strange twinkle in the eye of the miner, as
he drew from the pockets of. his overcoat
two purses. All eyes were. turned towards
him.
" I'll bet a hundred ounces on the ace!"
he exclaimed _to the astonished gambler,
dropping the sacks of dust on tbe table, "and
will draw the cards myself."
"Five hundred dollars is the limit," said
the gambler.
" There is no limit to your rascality !"
thundered the stranger, "nor should there
be to your game!" and he replaced the pur
ses in his pocket.
The gambler sprang to his feet, with his
hand upon his revolver; but ere he could
draw it, a. blow from the brawny fist of the
stalwart miner sent him reeling to the floor.
In a moment all was confusion. A dozen
gamblers from the adjoining tables rushed to
the rescue of the fallen blackleg, with pistols
and knives glittering in the lamp-light. The
woman had risen to her feet, and stood speech
less behind the table.
" Stand back," shouted the miner, drawing
from his belt with his left hand a huge bowie
knife, and swinging an eight inch navy re
volver in the other. " Stand back 1" he re
peated, retreating against the wall as the
gamblers attempted to close upon him, "or
by the Mother of God, I'll strew the floor
with your carcasses!"
" Shoot him down I" cried one of the gam
blers, brandishing a pistol over his head, and
evincing little inclination to undertake the
job himself.
" The first man pulls a trigger dies I" said
an elderly gentleman, breaking through the
crowd, and placing himself beside the lion
hearted miner. " Ten to one is too great an
odds for any man. He is a stranger to me,
but by h-11, he shall have fair play !"
" Right ! right !" shouted the crowd, be
ginning to understand the nature of the broil,
"give him a chance I" and a dozen more pis
tols suddenly found the light.
" Let me at him !" yelled the gambler, who
had been knocked down, attempting to reach
the offender through the throng.
" Make way for him 1" hissed the miner,
"and I will use nothing but this 1" and he
raised his twelve inch bowie knife and threw
himself into an attitude of defense.
" Hold !" said an elderly man, he who bad
first insisted upon fair play; "if you really
do want to fight, select some spot where there
are fewer spectators. If not, put up your
weapons."
" You are right," said the miner ; "but I
will meet the scoundrel where he will, when
he will, and with what he will."
" Enough," returned the gambler, rendered
desperate with rage; "follow me with a
6iend, and I will accommodate you in ten
minutes."
- " I am completely at your service," said
the stranger; "but I have no friend here, un
less I may' call you one, from the friendly
part you have already assumed in this diffi
culty."
" I will not desert you now," said the old
man, extending his hand, "for you are a brave
man, and a Kentuckian knows bow to appre
ciate courage."
The miner smiled, and stepping to the ta
ble where the woman was sitting, pale and
trembling, said to her in a low voice;
" Fear nothing—if you are sent for, do not'
fail to come." Then taking the arm of the
old Kentuckian, he followed the gambler,
who was just quitting the saloon, accom
panied by his friend.
"My friend," said the miner, as soon as
they had reached the street, " the fight must
be in a room alone, and without seconds—
with What weapons I care not. Let'whatever
may transpire thereafter excite no inquiry,
and I will explain all to-morrow."
The Kentuckian bowed. Both parties
passed down Washington street for some dis
tance, and halted in front of a small two-story
HUNTINGDON, PA., DECEMBER 21, 1859.
-PERSEVERE.---
brick building. The door was opened by a
Chinaman, and taking a lighted candle, the
gambler led the way up a flight of stairs to a
small back room. It had one window, and
Was furnished with a cot bedstead, washstand,
and two chairs. Placing the light upon one
of the latter, the gambler strode towards the
!stranger, who bad just entered, and said :
;" Here is the place, and now the time !"
He expected the miner to manifest symp
toms of terror at the announcement, and ask
toAefer the meeting ; but he was in error,
and the cool reply of " exactly," rendered
him alarmingly cognizant of the fact.
As a last effort to shake the resolution of
the- belligerent mountaineer, and avoid the
encounter, for which he felt no inclination,
the gambler said, with affected calmness :
If we fight at all, it must be alone, and
in this room, each armed with a revolver and
a ;bowie." -
` I am fortunately provided with both,"
was the resolute reply.
Then, d—n you, take the consequences!"
returned the gambler, determined to fire be
fore the word, and finding courage in the dis
honorable resolution. He found little conso
lation in the smile just perceivable through
the heavy beard of his antagonist.
The arrangements for the desperate encoun
ter were soon made. The principals each
armed with a knife and revolver, were to be
placed on opposite sides of the room ; the door
was to be locked on the outside, and at a
word from the seconds, the fight was to com
mence, with either weapon, and to continue
for ten minutes, at the expiration of which
time-the seconds were to re-enter the room.
The weapons were examined, and the com
batants placed for slaughter by candle-light.
The door had scarcely been closed and locked,
before the gambler raised his pistol and fired !
The ball lodged in the ceiling, not an inch
from the head of the other. With the spring
of a tiger, the latter -threw himself upon the
gambler, and crushed him to the floor, before
he had time to use either pistol or knife.—
Wrestling the weapons from his grasp, he
seized him by the throat, and holding a
knife to his breast, the miner swore he would
bury it there if he uttered a word.
" All right—give the word ?" said the mi
ner, as the seconds were about to enter, to
ascertain the-reason of the report.
" Are you ready ?"
• " Yes."
" Fire !—one—two—three !"
No report follo*ed, and the seconds liioked
-v at each other in silence.
" Now tell me, Mark Brigham, why I
should not slaLson,who attempted to assas
sinate me," said the miner.
" The shot was accidental indeed it was,"
returned the trembling gambler. " Spare
me, and I will return you every dollar you
have lost—give you all I possess."
" Let me tell you now why I should slay
you. It is not for the dollars you have won
from me, for I do not value them—not your
cowardly attempt to murder me, for I expec
ted it. Ten years ago you stole a young girl
by the name of Jane Farley, from a boarding
school in Rochester New York, and under a
promise of marriage, induced her to elope
with you to New Orleans. Her parents, who
lived three miles from the city, did not know
you, for you were not a resident of the place,
and never visited the family but once. You
did not marry the girl. You made her your
mistress—the mistress of a gambler—and as
such she become a mother. Shame preven
ted her communicating with her parents, and
they are still ignorant of her fate. Three
years 'ago she accompanied you to California.
Her brother, who had become a man, had
vowed terribly to revenge the fate of his sis
ter should he ever meet her, followed shortly
after, unaware of her presence here. One
night he heard her name pronounced on the
street. He followed her to a gambling hell,
and recognized her, and by her side sat her
seducer, whom he had seen but twice before.
In venturing his money, he found ready means
to bring about an encounter, in which he de
termined to kill you. He met you in a room
alone. You attempted to assassinate him.—
Do you know me now ?"
" Mercy !—spare me I" said the gambler,
" and—"
" On one condition," replied Farley.
" Name it."
"That you marry the woman you have dis
honored, and abandon your thieving voca
tion."
" I consent—but when ?"
" This very hour."
" I promise," said the gambler.
"But your promise is not sufficient," re
plied Farley. " I will have better guarantee.
This pistol shall not leave my hands or your
side, until the promise is filled ; and by my
hopes of heaven, if you hesitate in the perfor
mance, or show a disposition to escape, I will
put a ball through your body."
Placing all the weapons in his pockets ex
cept the pistol which he had cocked in his
hand, Farley released the gambler, and or
dered him to send for Jane and a carriage.
Through the half opened door, which the sec
onds had opened in response to a knock with
.in, Brigham repeated the order to his 8,8011-
ished friend. Learning that no blood had
been shed, the latter left the house, and in a
few moments Jane was in the presence of the
silent combatants. She requested an expla
nation, but was told that all would soon be
made clear, and the whole party entered the
carriage and were driven to the house of a
clergyman on Stockton street, where, with a
pistol ready to use upon the bride-groom,
should he falter, Mark Brigham and- Jane
Farley were made man and wife. The un
shorn miner then called her sister, and as she
hung upon his neck she thanked God that
the same hour had sent her a husband and a
brother.
Brigham sent' or his child, which had been
left in New Orleans, purchased a tract of
land in L3B Angelos county and is now a
wealthy and respected resident of that region
of the vine and fig tree. Farley is still a mi
ner in " o:d•Tuolume," and "Old Kaintuck,"
as the world reverently learned to call him,
was killed by the Klamath Indians in 1855.
Nir. Faith is the sister of justice.
• ?
1:110Z
,•*.,..
i ...
Extravagance of the Age.
A shrewd -writer, who is in the habit of
telling home-truths which go direct to the
heart of the popular follies of the day, has
the following in relation to the pernicious sys
tem of domestic education, so prevalent at the
present time:
"In the town of Somewhere lives M. Many
girls.- He is a toilsome merchant, his wife a
hard-working housekeeper. Once they were
poor, but now they are ruinously rich. They
have sevendaughters, whom they train up in
utter idleness ; they spend much money, but
not in works of humanity, not even in ele
gant accomplishments—in painting, dancing,
music and the like, and so paying in spiritual
beauty what they take in material means ;
they never read nor sing; they are know
nothings, and only in vain show, as useless as
a ghost, and as ignorant as the blocks on
which their bonnets are made. Now, these
seven 'ladies,' as the newspapers call the
poor things, so ignorant and helpless, are
not only idle, can earn nothing, but consume
much. What a load of finery is on their
shoulders and heads and necks. Mr. Many
girls hires many men an women to wait on
his daughters' idleness, and these servants
are withdrawn from productive work in nur
sing these seven grown-up babies.
"On the other side of the way, the Hon.
Mr. Manysons has seven sons, who are the
exact match for the merchant's daughters :
rich, idle, some of them dissolute ; debauch
ery coming before their beard ; all useless,
earn nothing, spending much, wasting more.
The only labor is to kill time ; and in the
summer they emigrate from pond to pond,
having a fishing line with a worm at one end
and a fool at the other. These are fast fam
ilies in Somewhere. Their idleness is coun
ted pleasure. Six of these sons will marry,
and perhaps five of Manygirls' daughters,
and what families they will found to live on
the toil of their grandfather's bones; until a
commercial crisis and the wear and tear of
time has dissipated their fortunes and they
are forced reluctantly to toil.
"Besides, there is an enormous waste of
food, fuel, clothing, of everything. We are
the least economical, civilized people on
earth. Of course the poor are wasteful every
where ; they do not know how to economize,
and they have not the means. They must
live from hand to mouth, and half what is
put into the hand perishes before it reaches
the mouth:' So likewise are the rich waste
ful who have inherited money ; almost never
sure as have earned it. The great mass of
the people are not economical, but wasteful.
It is the habit of the whole country."
" Orashan " by Arteraus Ward.
Ime a Union man. I luv this Union from
the Bottom of my Hart. I luv every hoop
pole in Maine, and every sheep ranche in
Texas. The cow pastors of New Hampshire
is as deer to A. Ward as the rice plantashuns
of Mississippi. There is mean critters in
both of them air States, and there is likewise
good and troo. It don't look very pretty for
a lot of inflarnmetary individooals who never
lifted their hands in defence of Ameriky, or
did the feat thing towards sekewrin our in
dependence, to git their backs up and sware
they'll dissolve the Union. Too much good
blvd wos spilt in courtin and marryin that
hily respectable femail, the Goddess of Lib
erty, to git a divorce from her at this late day.
The old lady has behaved herself too well to
cast her off now, at the request of a parsul
of addle-brained men and wimin, who never
did nobody no good, and never will agin.—
Ime sorry the picture of the Goddess never
giv her no shoes or stockings, but the band
of stars around her head must continur to
shine ',niter so long as this Erth revolves on
her axle tree. [The wether was all-fired hot,
& a man at this pint of the orashun fell down
sun stroke. I told the aujience that consid
erin the large number of powerful hansum
gals present, I was more afraid of a dawtur
stroke. Thejoke was impromptu, and amused
the aujiense wery much.)
To ressoom—G. Washington was a clear
heded, warm-hearted, brave and stiddy-goin
man. He never SLOPS' OVER 1 The prevailin
weakness of most public men is to SLOP
OVER! [Put them words in large letters
A W.] They Rush Things. They travel too
much on the high presbur principle. They
git onto the .popular hobby hoss who trots
along, not caring a sent whether the beest is
ever goin, clear sited and sound. or spavined,
blind and bawky. Of course they get throw
ed eventooally, if not sooner. When they
see the multitood goin it blind, they go Pel
Mel with it instid of exertin themselves to
set it right. They can't see that the krowd
which is now bearing them triumphantly on
its shoulders, will soon diskiver its error, and
cast them into the boss pond of Oblivyum
without the alighest hesitashun. Washing
ton never slopt over. That wasn't George's
style. He laved his country deerly. He
wasn't after the spiles. He was a human
angel in a 3 cornered hat and nee britches,
and we shant see his like right away.—
My friends, sve can't all be Washingtons, but
we can be-patriots, and behave ourselves in
a human & Christian manner. When we
see a brother goin down hill to Ruhr, let us
not give him a push, but let us seize right
hold of his coat tails and drag him back to
Morality.
We- A rich affair took place on a train of
cars running from Cleveland to Columbus,
Ohio, not long ago. On the cars was a cul
prit on his way to serve his term in the Pen
itentiary, and one of the real genus Yankee.
The following colloquy took place:
" Goin' ter Klurnbus ?"
" Yes." (Gruffly.)
" Goin' any further ?"
it No!,
" Goin' ter stop in Klumbus ?"
y es !,
" Goin' ter see any friends there ?"
" No."
" Goin' ter do enny kind o' work there ?"
" Yes."
" Goin' ter start business on yer own hook ?"
"No"
" What are ye goin' there fur ?"
" Going for seven years 1"
The Yankee's curiosity was aZmosl satisfied.
Editor and Proprietor.
NO, 26.
Country Meetin' Talk.
An Illinois editor, who sometimes has an
attack of Phonography, attended a country
meetin', where be took down the following
different topics of conversation at one time :
" Vote for Lovejoy I" exclaimed a political
aspirant indignantly, " I'd as soon vote for
Lloyd Garrison himself, loaded down as he
is with"
" Two of the fattest beef critters you ever
sot your eyes on," interrupted a dealer in
cattle, " that I sold foe—
" That horrid yellow dress again," ex
claimed Miss Spruse, in what might have
sounded like a whisper if she had been on
the other side of the room, " painted, too, half
an inch thick, and wears"—
" Teeth and nails to get the office," broke
in another politician ; besides he is"—
" Spavined in both hind legs, wind broken
and foundered, to boot, as I told Mr. Jarvis
at the time"—
" One tea-cup full of butter, two of sugar,
three of flour, four eggs, and a sprinkling of
nutmeg, makes"—
"Both ends meet when the year comes
round, poor woman ! for she has got six chil
dren, the oldest one blind, and"—
"No saddle or bridle to ride him with,
somebody stole it while I was gone to Chica
go after"—
" The long milennial day which we have
no doubt is to be brought out through the
ministration of"—
" Two Dutchman, a monkey and band-or
gan to grind it; and oh, it made the funniest
music, and the figures danced around like"—
" Nine thousand miles of railroad track,
and this at an estimate cost of "
" Five cents a dozen. I sold four hens to
Mrs. Wilson, and the hawks carried off three,
besides any number of chickens, and "
" Such a handsome young man, and he
dances so be-ewtifully. Did you ever see a
handsomer pair of whiskers, or more insinu
ating "
" Handle to my new tea-pot, and Tommy
declared he hadn't touched it at all, and I
knew Emily hadn't for she had "
" Running at the rate of 25 miles an hour
with no lights on, and around a curve at that,
when the locomotive broke the bridge over"—
" That young Miss Brown that had the
small-pox last spring. They do say that she
is going to marry"—
" Two pointer dogs and the best gun in
town. I wanted the gun the worst way, and
offered him"—
" The scarlet fever and whooping cough,
and I don't know what he hadn't had, poor
little darling. This is the first time I've ta
ken him out at all since "
" The Mexican War, which reconsider per
fectly unjustifiable, unless it be on the ground
that"— •
" The preacher has come," exclaimed a
boy, and depositing my report in my pocket,
I proceeded into the school-house to muse on
the utility of phonography.
Wouldn't Own Up
Joe Stetson was a wild, rolicking fellow,
who spent most of his time in drinking and
spreeing, while his wife, Polly,• was left at
home to do the chores. Upon a certain occa
sion Joe left home, to be back, as he said, that
night. Night came, but Joe did not. The
next day passed, but, about sunset, Joe came
up in the worst condition imaginable—his
clothes dirty and torn, one eye in deep mourn
ing, and his face presenting more the appear
ance of a piece of raw beef than anything else.
Polly met him at the door, and, noticing his
appearance, exclaimed
"Why, Joe, what in the world is the mat
ter ?"
" Polly," said Joe, "do you remember
long Jim Andrews ? Well, him and me bad
an awful fight."
" Who whipped, Joe ?" asked Polly.
" Polly, we had the hardest fight you ever
did see. I hit him and he hit me, and then
we clinched. Polly, ain't supper most ready?
I ain't had nothin' to eat since yesterday
morning."
" But tell me who whipped, Joe," contin
ued Polly.
" Polly," replied Joe, " I tell you, you nev
er did see such a fight as me and him had.—
When he clinched me I jerked loose from
him, and then gin three or four the most suf
ficientest licks you ever heard of. Polly,
ain't supper ready ? I'm nearly starved."
" Do tell me who whipped, will you?" con
tinued Polly.
" Polly," said Joe, " you don't know noth
in' bout fightin'. I tell you we fought like
tigers; we rolled and we tumbled—first him
on top, then me on top—then the boys would
pat me on the shoulder, and hollow, ' Oh,
my ! Stetson !' We gouged, and bit and tore
up the dirt in Seth Runnell's grocery yard
worse nor two bulls. Polly, ain't supper
ready ? I'm monstrous hungry."
" Joe Stetson !" said Polly, in a tone brist
ling with anger, " will you tell me who whip
ped?"
" Polly," said Joe, drawing along sigh, " I
hollered !"
A TOUCHING ANECDOTE.—IIon. A. H. Ste
phens, of Georgia, in a recent address at a
meeting in Alexandria, for the benefit of the
Orphan Asylum and free schools of that city,
related the following anecdote :
" A poor little boy, in a cold night in June,
with no home or roof to shelter his head, no
maternal or parental guardian or guide to
protect or direct him on his way, reached, at
nightfall, the house of a rich planter, who
took him in, fed, lodged and sent him on his
way with his blessing. These kind atten
tions cheered his heart, and inspired him with
fresh courage to battle with the obstacles of
life. Years rolled around ; Providence led
him on ; he had reached the legal profession ;
his host had died ; the cormorants that prey
on the substance of man, had formed a con
spiracy to get from the widow her estates.—
She sent for the nearest counsel to commit
her cause to him, and that counsel proved to
be the orphan boy years before welcomed
and entertained by her deceased husband.—
The stimulus of a warm and tenacious grati
tude was now added to the ordinary motives
connected with the profession. Ile under
took her cause with a will not easily to be
resisted ; be gained it ; the widow's estates
were secured to her in perpetuity; and,".
Mr. Stephens added, with an emphasis of
emotion that sent its electric thrill through
out the house, " that orphan boy stands be
fore you!"
IT is not worth your while to hate. Your
life is not long enough to make it pay to cher
ish ill will or hard thoughts towards any one.
What if that man has cheated you, or that
woman has played you false ? What if this
friend has forsaken you in your time of need,
or that one having won your utmost confidence
and warmest love, has concluded that he -pre
fers to consider and treat you as a stranger ?
Let it a// pass. What difference will it make
to you in a few years, when you go hence to
the undiscovered country," All who ill-treat
you now will be more sorry for it then, than
you even in your deepest disappointment and
grief can be.