The globe. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1856-1877, June 20, 1866, Image 1
TERMS OE THE GLOBE Per annum In advance Ii 7..hree.months TERNS OF ADVERTISING 1 Insertion Ono Oqoaro, (10 littem,)or less.s 75.... Two oquareo 1 50.4.. Throo squares, 2 25.... • . . ,8 months, 6 months. 12 months. ..)no square, or less It 00 $6 00 $lO 00 Piro sqnares,..., 6 00 9 00 15 00 flute squares . 8 00 12 00 20 00 Four squares 10 00 16 00 25 00 Ealf a column, 16 00 20 00 30 00 Ono column, 0 0 00 35 00.... ~,,, GO 00 Professional and Business Cards not exceeding six lines, One year, $5 00 Administrators' and Executors' Notices $2 50 Auditors' Notices, 2 00 'Est roy, or other short Notices • 1 50 • Ten lines of nonpareil make a square. About •eight words constitute n line, so that any person can ea sily calculate a simare in manuscript. Advertisements not marked with the number of loser %ions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac .eording to these terms. Onr prices for tlsa printing of ItlanlN, MllOlllO, etc. 'BTO also increased. PROFESSIONAL & BUSINESS CARDS DR. A. B. LIGHT, Graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, bar. ing located at Warriorsmark, offers his professional eer• vices to the people of the town and vicinity. Ito will re• cave night calls of Chamberlin's Hotel. 3.6„ 1866-3 m. DR. A. B: BRUMBAUGH, Having permanently located at Huntingdon, offers profc.donnl services to the community. . . . . - . (karat, the same ax that lately occupied. by Dr. Loden. on MU street. an 10,1860 DR. D. P. MILLER, Office in room lately- occopied by J. Simpson Af rica, offers his service to citizens of Liontingdoß and nol—Oms vPR. JOHN MeCHLLOCII, offers his professional services to the citizens of Huntingdon au PR. Office en Hill street, one door east of Reed's Drug Store. Aug. 25, '25. BOYER & GARNER, Denlors in Dry Oonds, Grqceries, ke., Marklesburg station. ANDREW JOHNSTON, agent fQr the Niagara Tn4uranco Company, Huntingdon. GEO.SH R AEFFE, dealer ha Boots, Shoec,Clutterc, &c., Huntingdon, -A; SON, proprietors of 'Juniata Steam Pearl Mill, Iluntingdon. B. BRU.NLBA.UGH. & CO., deal • era in fancy and staple goods, Marklesburg IiATM. LEWIS . & CO , Family Gro ceries, Provision and Feed Store, Runt., Pa. WW MARCH & BRO. Dealers in Dry GOMA, ' Queens ware. Rerdivaro, Boots, Shoes, &c. WM. LONG, Dealer in Candies, Nuts, Fatally Oroceriva, dc, Iluatingdon, Pa. CUNNINGHADI & CARAION, Herchants, Huntingdon, Pa. WiIIARTON & MAGUIRLI'i Whole sale and retail deniers In foreign and domestic Hardware, Cutlery, &c., Railroad street, Liuntingdon. CHAS. H. ANDERSON, Dealer in nll kinds of Lumber, Iluntingdon, Pa. TAINIES A. BROWN, Vexler in Hardware, Cutlery, Paiute, Oils, &a., Hunt ingdon, Po. T_T RCOLS.N, 3 * Dealer In Ready ZUado Clothing, flats and Caps, • T p .P. 7).Ter in Pry Goods,Grocaries, !Tara ware, Queens 'are, Hate and Caps, pants and Shors,.&c. Huntingdon: SE. lIENRY & CO., Wholesale and . Retoil Dealers in Dry Goods. Groceries, Hardware, Queensold-e, and Provisions of nil kinds, Huntingdon. Wlt. AFRICA, Dealer in Boots and Shoes, in ths Diamond, Huntingdon, Pa. tiOIIN 11. WESTB.ROOK, Dealer in Boots, Shoes, Hosiery-, Confectionery, Huntingdon. YENTER, Dealer in Groceries and • Provisions of all kinds, linutindon, P. DONNELL & KLINE, PHOTOGRAPHER?, Huntingdon, Pa AI3OIIIS G. STRICKLER & SON, illannfarturersofßrougber's patent Broom Head or Nt rapper. Huntingdon. - r M. GREENE & F. 0. BEAVER, Plain and Ornamental Marblo Manufacturers. AT GUTMAN & CO., Dealers in Ready jjk • mado Clothing, litintlegdon, Pa. rt M. GREENE, Dealer in Musie,inu- A3,;slcal Instruments, Sewing 3lachines, Uuntingdon. ;L:1 SHOEMAKER, Agent for the Ma ki. g ic. Star Liniment, Huntingdon, Pa. WM. LEWIS, Dealer in Books, Stationery and Musical Inetrn manta, Ilnntingdon, Fn. R . ALLISON 'MILLER, 6 tt v DE YTIST, It removed to the Brick Bow opposite the Court nous° Apr 1113,1859. T E. GREENE, tl c DENTIST Office femoved to opposite the Frnn ldin ilonse in the old bank building, 11111 street, Huntingdon April 10, 1868. EXCHANGE HOTEL ►T`HE subscribers having leased this Hotel, lately occupied by 11,31eNulty. are prepared to accommodate strangers, travelers, and citizens in good style. Every effort shall be made on our part to make all who stop with us feel at home. J. J. 8, .T. D. FEE, may2,lSE6 Proprietors. MORRISON HOUSE, i-ruaxtin.wacria., lIIAVE purchased and entirely ren ovated the large stone and brick building opposite the Pennsylvania Railroad Depot, and have now opened It for the accommodation of the traveling public. The Car pets. Furniture, B'de and Sodding are all entirety new and first class, and I am safe In saying that I can oiler ac % .conintodations not excelled In Central Pennnyirania. ta-I refer to nu patrons who bate formerly known me while in charge of the Broad Top City lintel and Jack son Ileum • JUSEPII MORRISON. Slay 16, 1566-If. K. ALLEN LOVELL, ATTORNEY AT LAW, HUNTINGDON, PA. GYFICg—In the brick row, opposite the Court Moose. may 3.18136 J. K WADIES:I. WILLIAM A. lIPE. MATTERN & SIPE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, MID LICENSED CLAIM AGENTS, I.II3NTINGDON, PA, °film on llill direct. Soldiers Claims against the Government for hack Pay Bounty, Widows' and Invalid? POUSIOM attended to with great care and promptness. zny29-1 y AGENCY, POR COLLECTING. SOLDIERS CLAIMS, BOUNTY, BACK PAY AND PENSIONS. ALL who may have any elaims•a gainet the Government for Bounty, Rack Pay and l'ensions, can have their claims promptly collected by ap plying either in pars,. or by latter to W. H. WOODS, • Attorney at Law, Huntingdon, Pa. August 12, 1862. 1171 bcoTT, SAMUEL T. DllOll - 11, JOHN M. HAM= • riiho name of this firm has been chang- X el from SCOTT lc BROWN, to SCOTT, BROWN & BAIVErr, tinder witch name they trill hereafter conduct their practice ATLORXEYS AT LAW HUNTING , DON, TA. PEN BIONS, and all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs epilog. the Om - ernment, trill be promptly prosecuted. May 17, 1565-tf. A. W. BENEDICT. 1. SMELT. ISTEIWIT. P. 11. LTTLE. TIIE firm of Benedict & Stewart has been changed to BENEDICT, 13TEWA.RT & LYTLE, under which name they will hereafter practice ra, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, HUNTINGDON, PA They will also giro careful attention to the collection of military and other Claims against the State or Got. crnment. Office formerly occupied by .1. Sewell Etewart, adjoin ipg tho Court Houeo. feb6,lBo .ii...,: ' W . / j// ..... ..,..., , ~ ~ / , '''' 4 .4 kt - N - t4 ' :'i ' t4;. '''':: ''"' '' ... k" , .., 4 4...w1i•-. -,, . -- * - I* -4,-• * -1541, '1,km„5t , -;: a4l 4' - $,- ..." /,--' , ,_,,,.:;:' „:4,,r• - . 4 - ,-• . - i..... :: -._ ; , , : ~,, ~ -/ 534.3 '-- _ !: t 4 r ,--'''''ll-u*i.C:F s ,4-..21 :; 4 F -4* ;1 47 ;f :.4' 1.. : r':t".r . ,1 74'* !., , , --,, :... : 7 ;t' L'Ut41.. '..i.:.:(k ;:-,k l' ;', .. ' '' ' l .4. \ ;..:4:}:e. :' - - 1'•1-1 11 1: k )I'F.:l ;.11°.' .., ..,....;?o, .. , K' . .. ~.?' - .., ~.... ..„ . . . --...,..., '.. Ai 1.917,4 er . V r fr'..% ~., -1 "' - ,- - ,s`• .'"_. -•-.. •.'", - ;:-1- . '''j 5 4 ; 1 ..- - . .- - )i-, 2 ;,-A.- '.1;1 - '''-' , ii \- ..„‹ . ... z: - :.t.. ,.. ~ --„,..., /- /- , :.t.te-. •41;. 4 :•7-• , - , .. -..,.,. -,,-.. 'L " t ''' 1%1. c ,-,,,.. • ... . , --.... . 42 CO . 1 00 2 do. 3 do. .$i 25 $ 1 50 . 2 OD 3 00 .300 440 WILLIAM LEWIS, Editor and Proprietor. VOL XXI, Ele 61,th. IjIINTINGDON, PA. Werdant Jeemes on Baste Bawl, HuNTINanoN KoUNTY. The Floury month of fune, of the yoar M YSTEIL EDDITTER :—lnn my last too yu, sum munth ago or morren that, I prumisod if cony thing talc plaso war thi of note I wood give my ideas fur the believed, of the ignerint Smuthin has takiu plase. A revorloo shun has taken place—mon left their bisnoes pershutts too give`pleshure her shair of their shorts and axshuns. The lawyer has left his musti books and his unfortinate kliants. The marchaut his marehandize; the groser his groser ics; the klark his ink stan and akounte; the printer his devil and deviltries; the musishin his do, re, ma, fa, sas; the dintist the jaws of his enfrerin fel ler humans; the kar man hie trans and kole diet; the pieter man his nigger tives and koppies; the Wavier hie kold wafter untaseted, all is kommoshun. And fur what ? Kum with mo gentile reader, yonder goes a crowd, wo will foller em, they koriverse agerly, thai move their bans wiolent, kern and see. Low thai leave the town, the last brik house has vanished, thai are on a board walk; they are on a green fiel of emerald green, what hes led to this greenness? See eyri man has hung his koat and west on the groan, to men aro sayin, "Ile take Bilkins," "Ile take Wilkins," "I "want Jones," "I want Jenkins," kUrn here Tumpkins," "this.wai Bliuken," and so on tit they hey too rounds. Is their 81717 ther lava shun? Rev the wiolent Rebbils broke luso agin ? Rev the Finnegins resod their green flag, and air mustrin their green follerers? No sir. This air ples ore, this air our nashnul game, this air Baste Ball. Wun fbller talks a spoiled bruin still and stans near an iron kittlo kover.— Another feller with floin loks, thorws a bawl at him with wiolenco ; he dont like it, and hits it with his stik. Ho is goin to run to keep that feller frum throwin that bawl at him agin But wale. Not so fast, my freu. "Fowl," sais a feller with a primmer in his hand. Now thinks I, ole feller, yer better not pitch that bawl at that man agin. Immagine my surprise • that poor cus talks his bruin agin, lookin warm and savage; a g in the bawl is throne at his bed, h o dodges, and pokes her hard with his stilt. Orf she goes up inter the air, down she kums; a man rushes alit with his hands and mouth open; thinks 1 which of them things does ho xpect to ketch it in— not with neither, he uses Ins'nose, and sets down on his back to see ,wair its agoin to lite. Anouther feller goes with a run furit and pitches it back to the man what, pitches it at falks.— Inn the meantyme the feller what did hit it has been agoin like mad. Lord! how he runs; sum of his fiunily is talc sik Units sertin. "Go to that third beast," says a feller that kall Captir,. In vain I looked fur a beasto; thair wair nun in wiew; that feller wair pussiled too, cos arter runniri a spot, he stopt short, a breathin bard and lookin all round. Another feller hunts out a normus big stilt, and whiz 'corns that bawl at him, he hits her wishus. Their agoes a feller a runnin a fut rase with it. Sea he - katches it—no he dont dont like to hole it—ens he is a wringing his bans awful,and furst puts wun finger in his mouth, and then another. I goes to him. Sez I "my fren, is that bawl maid of the sweets of this airth?" Saiz he "what meen you ?" " For why doo you lik yer fin ger ?" sez I. "You be —." • Well, it wair cussin. I lied tLat feller fined fur perfanity. Another feller talks his stilt. Up she goes—(the bawl,) down she kums, (the bawl,) she is cetehed. "Out," . sez the feller with the primmir, "kaut on a fly." That's a humbug, no fli cud sustain that bawl, thair nun round cot on flys—No sir, it wair taut in the air. No fli bout that. Then nuther feller tuk holt, three times he bangged at it, when he went orf like a rockli• like a werry lain roeltit,_ holdin wun leg strate, and makin awl wurk fur the other. Well, they put three fellers out. I don't no how, (the feller with the primmir dons,) but thai put cm; then the other fellers cum in and. did like the fellers what was out: same thing ovir. The 'Result. Canes hes hokum Lash unble,limpin the stile, brims and can kuskins duly ockurancos,linnimint isin evri wuns bans, It air a bootiful play fur bisnis. Mom inshore thair lives in the travlers and runners compinies, if that hey the neadful. Wun poor sole I seed with a rustick kane, a boot and slipper, and a pokkit ful of bruse corer. Sez I "nil man, how long hey yeo been frum Bort Eri ? I plainli see yu air a wettorin !" "No," sea ho, "Im a wie tim." "800 you plai bawl?" "I doe, sea he, lookin leminkolly." "Nuff sod," I past on. Sez ho "talk a bier," sez "yes"—wee took it. Ho wants me to join. • Mister Edditer amusement is amuse ment, work is work, but of awl the hard work, and poor fan I over did see, that air Bawl of the Baste is the bas est attempt attompted—whi I wood rethorjone a sirens 'timpani and throw summersets thro pains of glass.— As over yurn, WEIWANT JEEMES. N. B.—Providin my breeches wair of buck skin, As above, TUE following toast was given at a printers' dinner out West: "George Woodcock—The of his profession, the type of honesty, the 1 of all; and although the /kir ofdeath has put a . to his existence, every § of his life wee without a ti." Shoemaker, Stick to Your Last. A STORY WITH A MORAL, FROM VON HORN Who of us kind readers, has not heard and probably made use of the quaint motto constituting cur caption, when any ono was known to have at tempted the performance of that which be was plainly unfitted . by natural talent or acquired skill ? There is a certain tact required in every under taking, trade or profession, natural or acquired; without which the man who attempts the performance of the duties of either, however apparently insig nificant, will invariably fail in the proper accomplishment thereof. Tho truth of this declaration was onto most amusingly established in the ease of a royal personage who possess ed si kindly disposition towards, and was, in turn, highly esteemed and much beloved by all his subjects, viz : Maximilian Joseph, King of Bavaria, the grandsire of tho present ruler of that Kingdom. During the summer of a certain year of his reign ho sat one day iu a plain, undistinguishable dress, in the royal garden, reading a book. The heat was so groat, and such per fect quiet rested upon the place that the King became drowsy and his eyes showed signs of a desire to sleep. Tie laid his book on the bench and fell into a comfortable sleep. The snooze did not contititio very long, however, and waking up, he started upon a short walk for exercise. The book, in the meantime, lay upon the bench, having been forgotten by the King. Farther and farther continued tho pleasure walk, until Royal Palace and garden wore left quite in the rear, and the King strode out upon the beautiful green plats of grass, which extended hither and thither towards the sea shore. M. Joseph now remembered the book he had loft upon the bench in the park. Should any ono pass by that spot, he felt convinced the book would disappear, and yet he was very loth to part with it. Neither did ho desire to return to the Castle by the way ho came, but intended to go borne by ex tending his walk along tho coast. He therefore looked all around and about himself to find some ono whom he might send for the book, upon point log out the exact spot where ho had left it. Par and wide, howovor, the King could behold no human being except a young lad, who was herding a large flock of geese. The King now bent his steps towards the boy and said : "Soo here, youngster, wouldn't you go to a certain place, which I will paint out to you, and bring mo a book, you shall have two 'Zwanzigers' (Ger man coin) for the job ?" The lad who did not know the King, looked unbelievingly at the corpulent person before him. Two Zwansigers for such a trifling errand ! the thing seemed so much like a hoax to the boy. "I'm no fool, said the youngster, turning away. "What makes you think I take you to be a fool 7" said the King, smiling'; and who. at once seemed interested in the fresh looking, bold little fellow, perceiving plainly that the boy did not know who he was. "Because yott offer such a' sum of money for such a trifling job," replied the lad. "Money is not made so easily !" "I see, now, that you are really a simpleton!" said the King. laughing. "Why do you not believe me ?" "Thoso in there , said the boy, point ing to the distantOastle,•"like to make a fool of such as I am, and, in all like lihood, you are also ono of them !" "And suppose I should be," said the King. "Here's your money in ad vance! Now go and bring me the book." The lad's eyes glistened, as ho be held the money, and even held it in his own hand; knowing, as ho did,that for very little more than that sum he watched the farmer's geese a whole year. Ile hesitated. "Well," said the King, "why don't you go ?" The lad pushed his cap to one side, and scratching behind his car, said, "1 would most cheerfully do it but I dare not! If the fltrnmrs beard that I had left the destructive geese, they would discharge me, and then I would have no way to earn my bread any longer." "Foolish fellow !" said the King, I will mind the geeSo till you return." "You." cried the boy, sarcastically, looking rather surprised at the King; "You , would make a nice sort of a gdose-herd ! You are too fut and stiff; Fine work you would make for mo ! Tho geese would all break loose and scatter over the fine fertile meadoWs; and I would bo compelled to pay moro than a year's wages for the damage. Do you see that lordly looking old plan tor, wi th the black head and wings. He is a deserter, a villanious fowl, a real scoundrel, he is of royal stock, that is all good for nothing, ho would make a pretty mess for me; it won't do!" The King was ready to burst with laughter, but repressing his risibility with all force, ho said, "why should I not be able for a short time, to keep flock of goose in order, whilst I do the same daily with many people?" "You inquired the lad, again eying the King from head to foot. "Well, they musk bonset, of real blockheads ! You ar&a school-master probably.— I tell you, such a set of boys are more easily governed than a flock of geese." "That may be so," said tho King; but be short ! Wil yyou go for the book ?" "I Would—but—" JEE 11 S "I'll stand good for all, and will pay the damage, if the landguard come," soid the King. HUNTINGDON, PA„ WEDNESDAY, JUNE 20, 1866: -PERSEVERE.- This seemed to satisfy the lad, and he charged the King to keep his eye, porticularly, upon that royal looking old gander; for ho was always ready to break loose, and induce the whole flock to Hollow. Tho King promised, and taking the long lash from the boy's hand, saw the latter start for the book. But he had not gone far, when.he again turned back and came to the King. "What now ?" said the king. "Crack the whip," said the boy. The King male the motion, but there was no crack! "I just thought as much," cried the boy. "He pretends to be a school master, and oven a goose-lterd, and can't as much crack with a lash." He now tore the lash from the King's hand and instructed him how to crack. The King could scarcely hold in any long er, but, yet, made every effort to learn from the lad, the art ti cracking the lash; and having measurably succeed ed in bringing forth the proper sound, the boy once more charged him to be very careful in watching the geese,and again started for the book. The King now gave full vent . to his laughing mood, and enjoyed himself amusingly. It soon appeared, however, as if the geese really know that their usual watchful commander bad given the reins into other hands. Tho old gan der, to which the boy had given the name of ''Barn-yard Lord," stretched up his long neck, looked all about; blow his shrill trumpet twice or thrice, and, immediately, as if a whirlwind had seized a pile feathers, all the geese flapped their wings, sounded a shrill note',''and before the King knew what he was about, they were all flying as a rushing storm to the two and thirty winds of heaven, over and upon the nice fat meadows along the sea. The King called after them in vain. He tried to crack the lash, but could produce but a feeble sound. He ran hither and thither, but all in vain. With the sweat pouring over his face. he Aat down upon the trunk of a tree, the seat of the young lad, and laughing heartly, he lett the geese to go where they pleased. "The lad is verily right," said the King to iiim.oll; "in sums that it is easier to rule over a million of people than a flock of geese. And that scoundrel of a gander is the cause of all this trouble," The lad hail in the meantime, gone according to direction, found the book, and was returning in great glee. As he approached tho Kin , ,.looking for his flock, he dropped the book to the ground, through slicer fright, and star ed in amazement upon the damage done through the inefficiency of his royal substitute. "There it is said he, almost crying with rage and anxiety. "Did I not toll you, you know nothing ? What is now to be done ? I can't bring them together again alone! I hope you will help me now." Ile instructed the King how to stand, and how to raise and lot fall his out stretched arms, and how to halloa, and then wont himself to gather the most distant of the scattered flock. The King did all he could, and after considerable laborious effort, the flock of geese was again united. - The lad now abused the King round ly, because ho had so illy performed his promise, and concluded thus, "in all my life shall no such follow got my lash from me again, and deceive me with two "Zwanziger," to forsake my flock. Not oven to the King would I entrust them." "You are right there, my lad," said the King; bursting-forth with a fresh fit of laughter, "he knows just about as much of the matter as I. ' "Pshaw, nonsense!" says the boy, looking angrily at the King. "Why my little man; I am the Icing " "You ? rillalco a tool believe that, not Inc," cried the lad. "Go, get your book and got yourself back to your house." ,The King quietly went for his book, and handing the boy four additional "Zwatizigers," said : Here, my lad, take these, and do not be angry with me. I'll give you my word, that I. will no more undertake Co watch a flock of geese." The boy took the money ; thanked the _Kindly, and said, "whoever you may be, a very kind gentleman you aro; but for a goose-herd you will nev er do. The proverb stands true: "Shoemaker, stick to your tact I" A BEAUTIFUL SENTIMENT.--Shortly before the departure .of the lamented Heber for India, he preached a sermon which contained this beautiful senti in on t "Life bears us on like the stream of a mighty river. Our boat at first glides down the narrow channel— through the playful murmurings of the little brook and the windings of its grassy borders. The trees shed their blossoms over our young bends; the flowers seem to offer themselves to the young hands, wo are happy in hope, and grasp eagerly at the beauty around us—but the stream hurries on,and still our hands aro empty. Our course in youth; and manhood is along a wilder and deeper flood, amid objects more striking and magnificent. We are an. imated at the moving pictures and our joyine»ts and industry around us; wo are excited at some short lived disap pointment. The streams boar us on, and out joys and griefs are Once loft behind us. We may bo shipwrecked, but we cannot bo delayed; whether rough or smooth, the river hastens to its home, till the roar of the ocean is in our ears-, and the tossing of the waves beneath our feet, and the floods are lifted up around us, and we take our leave of earth and its inhabitants, until of our future voyage there is no witness save the Infinite and Eternal." The Art . of Printing RY BAYARD TAYLOR Perhaps there is no department of enterprise whose details are less under stood by intelligent people than the "art preservative"—the achievement of types. Every day, their life long they are accustomed to read the newspaper, to find fanit with its statements, its ar rangement, its looks; to plume them selves upon the discovery of some ro guish and acrobatic typo that gots in to a frolic, and stands upon its head; or of some waste letter or two in it; but of the process by which the news paper. is made, of the myriads of mo tions and thousands of pieces necessary to its composition, they know little and„think less. They imagine they discourse of wonder, indeed, when they speak of the fair white carpet, woven for thought to walk on—of the rags that fluttered upon the back of the beggar yesterday. But there is something more won , derful still. When we look at the• hundred and fifty-two little boxes, somewhat shaded with the touch of the fingers, that compose the printers' "case"—noiseless, except the clicking of the types, as ,one by ono they take their places in the growing line—WO think we have found the marvel of the art. We think how many fancies in frag ments there are in the boxes, how ma ny atoms of poetry and excellence the printer can make here and there, if ho only had a little chart to work—how many facts in a small "handful"—how much truth in chaos. Now he picks up the scattered ele ments, until he holds in his hand a stanza of "Gary's Elegy," or a mono. dy upon Grimes " all buttoned up be fore," and now "Paradise Lost;" be arrays a' bride in " small caps," and a sonnet in "nonpareil;" he announces that the languishing, "live," in one sentence— transposes the words, and deplores the days that are few and "evil," in the next. A poor jest tricks its way slowly in to the printer's hand like a clock just. running down, and a strain of elo quence marches into line letter by let ter. We fancy we can tell the differ• mice by ,hearing of the car, but per haps not. The types that told a wedding yes terday announce a buirial to-morrow —perhaps the self-same letters. They aro the elements to make a world of—these types are a world with something in it as beautiful as spring, as rich as summer, and as grand as au tumn flowers that frost cannot wilt— fruit that shall ripen for all time. The newspaper has become the log book of the age; it tolls at what rate the world is running; we cannot tell our reckoning without it. True, the green grocer may bundle up a pound of candles in our last ex pressed thoughts, but it is only coming to base uses, and that is done times innumerable. We console ourselves by thinking that one can make of that newspaper what he cannot make of livirig oaks_ a bridge for time; that ho can fling it over the chasm of the dead years, and walk safely back upon the shadowy sea into the fair Past. The singer shall not end his song, nor the true soul be eloquent no more. Thd realm of the Press is enchanted ground. Sometimes the editor has the happiness of knowing that ho has de• fended the right, exposed the wrong, protected the weak ; that ho had given uttorence Ito a, sentiment that had cheered somebody's solitary hour,made somebody happier, kindled a smile upon a sad face, or hope in a heavy heart. He may moot with that sentiment many years after it may have lost all charm of its paternity, but' he feels af fection for it. He welcomes it as a long absent child. Ho reads it asif for the first time, and wonders if, indeed, he wrote it, for he has changed since then. Perhaps he could not give ut terance to the sentiment now—per haps ho would not if he could. It seems like the voice of his former self calling to its parerits, and there is a something mournful in its tone. Ho begins to think—he remembers why he wrote it, where were his readers then, and whither they have gone—what he was then, and how much hp has changed. So ho muses, until he finds himself wondering if hat thought of his will continue to float after he is dead, and whether he is really looking on something that will survive him.— And then comes the sweet conscious ness that there is nothing in the sen tence that be could wish unwritten— that is a better part of him—a shred from the garment of immortality ho shall leave behind him when he joins the "innumerable caravan," and takes his place in the silent halls of death. Xle - The following advertisement, we clip from a daily paper, exhibits a good specimen of the arrangement of words ; "Lost ! A small lady's watch with a whito face : also two ivory ladies' work boxes. A mahogony gentleman's dressing case, and a small pony, be, longing to a young lady with one eye. IleV" PronCiee, of the Louisville Jour nal, makes a wicked lunge at the very underpinning of society. Ho says "tilting hoops enable the common peo ple to see a great deal moro of good society than they eypr say before," tca., 4 learned coronor being asked how ho accounted for the groat mor tality, exclaimed : "1 cannot toll; people seem to die this year that never died bespro," TERMS, $2,00 a year in advance. An old man was shaving himself one day before the fire, but suddenly ex claimed in a great rage to the maid servant: "I can't shave without a glass I why is it not here." "Oh l" said she, "I have not placed it there for many weeks, es you seetned to got along quite as well without it." The crusty old bachelor (of course he was an old bachlor, or he would not have been' so crotchety and crusty) had, for the first time, observed that there was no glass there and his inability toshavo without one, was "in the mind" only it way imaginary. A Dutch thriller who measured a yard through, was one day working in the harvest field with his littlo son, and was bitten by a snake. He was horror struck: When he recovered himself a little he snatched up his out er clothing, and made tracks for home, at the same timo busying 'himself in putting on his vest; but it would not go on. Ho looked at his arm, and it seemed to be double its natural size; but tugging at it with greater despe ration, ho finally got both arms in. But his blood fairly froze in his veins when he discovered it wouldn't meet by about a fool. By this time he had reached his house,•and throwing him self on the bed, exclaimed in an agony of terror : "0 mine frow 1 I'm bn alcp bite I'm ! 0 mine Cot !" But his little bit of a wife,.standing a kim-. bo in the middle of the floor,burst into a fit of laughter to uncontrolablo that' she was likely to suffocate, and 011ie beat her husband in dying. The poor man's in his alarm, had endeavored to put on his little boy's vest; and was not swollen at all, except "in the mind." Many a mother feels fretted and jad ed and worn out 'with the cares of housekeeping, and is almost sick. But at the momenta welcome visitor comes in full-of life and cordiality and cheer iness and in less than five minutes that mother is a different woman ; the sky has - cleared; the face is lighted up with smiles ; and she feels as well as site ever did in her life. Her discour agement, her almost sickness was not " in the mind," it was a reality, but the excitement of conversation droVe oul;the wearying blood, which was op. pressing the heart, and made it fairly tingle to the finger points. Morn. ta— diesl when you go a visiting, carry smiles and gladness and a joyous na ture and a kind heart with you, and you will do more good than a dozen doctors. Most persons have a variety of uncomfortable feeligs at times, but they disappear on some exciting occur rence, not because they are merely-"in the mind," only imaginary, but be cause the excited heart wakes up to a now propulsive power, and drives for ward tho stagnating blood from points where its sluggishness was producing oppression, or actual pain. Mem. 2. For all, when you are grumpy, bounce up, go ahead, and dp something.—[Dr. Put a Good Face Upon It. If you wish to succeod in life, if you wish to find friends, if you wish your relatives or associates to enjoy your company, wear a cheerful face; every body dislikes and shuns a sad one, if it is habitually sad, Everybody but God grows weary of being 'reminded of sorrow, and the heart that is always full of bitter waters Will be left alone. Pretend to be happy if you can do no more. Coa.IE sunbeams to your eyes, smiles to your lips. Spoak hopeful,yea words as ofton as you can ; make fan if you never feel it. Get the name of being cheerful, and it will bo as in cense to you. Whenever the glad face goes it is' welcome; whatever the latigh: ing lips ask is apt to be granted.. If you are starving for either food for body or spirit it is better to laugh than to cry as you tell the tale. There was one once who, with a face like a tomb stone, told and told her wants, and met with repulse alter repulse from those whose faces fell at sight of her; but at last, laughing in strange mirth at her own inisory, she told it once again.— Tears started into the eyes of her bearers, and instant relief was given: Men are impatient of tears,_and wo men are weary of them. Don't give . way to them, no matter what the caso may be, get back the smiles as quickly as you can. Lot them bo but "hollow smiles," if that's the best you can do. Keep at that. By and by you will do better. Laugh to keep from crying.— Never give up to gloom ; it is a wrong to those about you. Sad faces add to ' the weight of troublo that life lays upon every heart. Woo to us if we cannot look about us and see bravely cheerful faces to encourage our hearts. Let us bo careful that each ono of us has one of these faces. A man ivho carries a glad face does an amount of good in the world impossible to com pute, oven if he be too poor to give ono cent in charity, and a man whose fiice is generally sad does, every day of his life, more harm than can bo reckoned. This is a hard world, full of all manner of troubles; but evory one of them can, for much of the time, be wrestled out of sight; and ovory living man and woman, as soon as the first distress is a little paSt, at the very least, assume cheerfulness,.This is decent. lae than this, 'tis m uty. Nobody has any right to go about a perpetual darnpon or of enjoyment. And no ono has just reason for habitual sadness till he has lost his soul. • • .4' 'An innkeeper observed a poetil , lion with only ono spur, and inquired the reason. "What would be the use of another?" said the postillion, "if one side of the horse goes, the other can't stnnd Da - The most dangerous bats that fly. Brickbats ; ~ NO. 51. La The Mind, THE .c 1 - iOBF SOB PRINTING OFFICE, PPE "GLOBB JOB OFFIOB' fr h. am most complete of any In the country, and pos. sesses the moat ample facilities for promptly executh3g tho best style, every variety of Job Printing, such. HAND BILLS, PROGRAMMES,. - BLANKS, POSTERS,. BILL BEADS, CARDS, 'CIRCULARS, BALL TICKETS, LABELS, &C., &O. CALL AND EXAMINE SPECIIDENS OP WORE, LEWIS' BOOR. STATIONERY & 'MUSIC STOREi A Capital story, Some years since, an eccentric old: genius, named Barnes, was employed' by a farmer living in a town some six or seven miles westerly from the Pe nobscot river, Maine, to dig a well.. The soil and substratum being mostly of sand, old Barnes having progressed downward about forty feet, found one morning upon going to work that the well bad essentially caved in, and was full nearly to the top. So, having the desire which men have of knowing what will be said of them after they are dead, and no , one being yet astir, he concealed himself in a rank growth of burdock by the side of a board fence near the mouth of the well, having first left his frock and bat on the wind lass over the well. At length break fast being ready, a boy-was despatch ed to call him- to his meal, when lo and behold ! it VMS. seen that . Barnes was buried in a grave unconsciously by his own hands. The alarm being giv.- en,' and the family assembled it was decided to eat breakfast; and then to send for the coroner, the minister, and his wife and children. Such apathy did not flatter Barnes' self esteem a bit, but he waited patiently, determin ed to hear what would be said and see, what was to be seen. . Presently all parties arrived and be gan "prospecting! tbe scene of the ca tastrophe, as people usually do in such cases. At len,gth they drew together to exchange opinions as to what should be done. The minister at once gave his opinion that they bad better level up the Well and let Barnes remain; "for" said he, •'he is now beyond the temp tation of sin, and the day of judgment it will make no difference whether ho is buried five feet under ground or fif ty, for he is bound to come forth in either case." The coroner likewise agreed that it would be a needless ex, pause to his family or to the town to disinter him when ho was effectually buried, and therefore coincided with the minister. Ifis wife thought as ho had left his hat and frock it was hardly worth while to dig him out for the rest of his clothes, and so it was decided to let . him remain. But poor , old Barnes,who had no breakfast, and was not at all pleased with the result of the inquest, lay quiet until the shades of evening stole over the landscape, when ho dc, parted to parts unknown. After ra, redining incognito for about three years, one. morning he suddenly apt peared (hatless and froekless as ho went) at the door ofi the old farmer, for whom he had agreed to dig the un fortunate well. To say that an aval anee of questions were rained upon him as to his mysterious re.appearance,, etc., wonld convey but a feeble idea or the excitement which his bodily pres-. epee created. • But the old man bore it quietly, and at length informed thorn that on find ing himself buried, he waited to be dug out again, until his patience was ex hausted, when he set to work to dig himself out, and bad only the aay be fore succeeded, for, his ideas being very much confused, he had dug• very much at random, and instead of coming di rectly to the surface, he came out in the town of Holden, six miles east of the Penobscot river. No further explanations were asked for by Wow who were so distressed and sorrowful over his supposed final resting place. Cp.ARAOTERISTICS OF WESTERN PEO, 14.t.--Western character, especially that in the Valley of the Mississippi, is. the outgrowth of the circumstances surrounding it, including climate, soil, and the mingling of many nations. It is the develop - tient partly of the harcl and stern conditions that come of set tlement in a new country, and partly from the breaking away from the fix ed and crystalized civili4atiao of the East. - ' Out of those facts grow strong Judi: vidualism, freedom, and self-reliance, •and large and comprehensive views from which are eliminated the elements of .narrow sectarinism, provincialism and the little prejudices that gather around an untraveled community, Hence the Western character develops freedom—takes Mirage calculations. A Western man thinks nothing of go-. ing ono thousand or fifteen hundred miles—hag . no religious prejudic'es against Gentiles or Jews. The de, month of various nationalities flowin together, and make up the community. He is educated to be self-hopeful, and protects himself. If a man steals his horse he mounts another, and treacle the thief, and shoots him if he can s The 'extending prairies, the immense rivers, the mighty lakes, somehow seem to enlarge the Western man's Conception of things. 'His big farm yields him thousands of bushels of grain. He may have twenty - borseS,.. an hundred mules, and a thou Sand: head of cattle, grazing in his pastures s and five hundred hogs fattening in his fields. He reads the price Current of Eastern papers, with fall is much acre as he dogs his Bible. He knows all that is going on—forms his own Qpin /MO; and is loud and bold in the ex, pression The irascible, reek lees, mercurial daring which charnel, zes Westosn men, and which was so illustrated in Sherman's army, isOnth the fruit of their education and the re, suit. of the climate. The Western man' is as impulsive as the Southern. Ho • calculates . quickly, and acts `en• tha spur of the moment. Practical j 4 all things he sees the shortest cut gllyays. Whatever'he owns he is willing to sell, —whatever You own. he is willing to buy. On a large trade he is as sharp as a Taplree, in a small one he' takeq no stock. P-a - Indulde hiluitir as much i you pioaso, if it is tVot