TERMS OF THE GLOBE
Per annum in advance
!Lx month.
Three months
TERMS OF ADVERTISING
. . . . .
1 insertion. 2 do. 3 do.
Ono square, 00 linesaor lesa.s 75 $1 25 $l6O
Two squares, 1 60 2 00 3 00
Three squares, 2 25 3 00 4 50
S months. 0 months. 12 =mills.
300 square, or less $0 00... ....... $6 00 $lO 00
. Two squares, 6 00 9 00 15 00
fhreo squares, 8 0012 00 20 00
Four !ignores, 10 00 ' 15 00 ' , 5 00
'Half a column, 15 00 'BO 00 - 0 00
Jan col mon, 20 00 35 00...........60 00
l'rofessionaland Business Cards not exceeding six lines,
One year, $5 00
Administrators' and Executors' Notices, $2 60
Auditors' Notices . 2 00
]'stray, or other abort Notices 1 60
.911 Ten lines of nonpareil make a moore. About
eight words coostitnte a Hue, so that any person can ea
sily calculate a square In manuscript.
Advertisements not marked with the number of Inser
tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac
cording to these terms.
Our prices for the printing of Blanks, Handbills, etc.
see reasonably low.
Anna He Mtatcotri.—The prettimt thing, the "sweetest
thing " and the most of it for the least money. It over
comes' the odor of perspiration; softens and adds delicacy
to the skin; is a delight fnl perfume; allays headache and
inflammation, and is a necessary companion in the sick
room, in the nursery, and upon the toilet sideboard. It
ran be obtained everywhere at one dollar per bottle.
Saratoga Spring Water, sold bj all Druggists.
3. T.--1.6i50.--X.—The amount of Plantation Bittern
sold in one year is something startling. They would fill
Broadway six feet high, from the Park to 4th street.—
Drake's manufactory is one of the institutions of N. York.
It is sald that Drake painted all the rocks in the eastern
States with his cabalistic "S. T.-1(i60.—X," and then got
the old granny legislators to pass a law "preventing dis
figuring the face et nature," which gives hint a monopoly
We do not know how this.is, hut we do know the Plants.
Don Bitters sell as no other article ever did. They are
used by all classes of the community, and nit death on
Dyspepsia--certain. They am very invigorating when
languid and weak, and a great appetizer.
Saratoga Spring Meer, sold by ell Druggiats
•In lifting the liettlo from tho tiro I scalded myself very
severely—one bond almost to a crisp. The torture WSW
unhenrablo. • • • The Mexican Mustang Liniment
relieved the pair. alm.t Immediately. It heal° rapidly,
and left very little scar.
Cues. FOSTER. .420 Broad et., Philada."
This is merely a sample of what the Mustang Liniment
will do. It is invaluable fn all cams of woun d s, swellings,
sprains, cuts, bruises, spavins, etc., either upon mau or
beast.
Bean.. of counterfeits. None is genuln e unless wrap•
poll in fine steel plate engravings, bearing the signature
of G. 45'. Westbrook, Chemist, and the private stamp of
.15u445 DAUNTS d: Co., Now York.
&zralcaa. :ping Water, sold by . all Druggists
All who value a beautiful head of hair, and Ite press,
iou front premature baldness and turning gray, will
not fail to lieu Lyon's celebrated Kathairjo. It umbra tho
hair rich, soft and glossy, eradicates dandruff, and causes
the hair to grow with luxuriant beauty. It is sold eve
rywhere. E. TIIOHAS LYON, Chemist, N. Y._
Saratoga Spring Wider, sold by all Druggists,
Wirer Dm Is I—A young lady, returning to country
home after a sojourn of a few months in New York, was
hardly recognized by her friend. In place of a rustic,
flushed face, the had a soft, ruby complexion, of almost
marble smoothness; and instead of 22, rho really appear-
M bat 17. She told them plainly rho used Megan's Mag
nolia Balm, and would not be without it. Any lady can
Improve her personal appearance very much by using
this article. It con be ordered of any Druggist for only
b 0 cents.
Saratva Syving old by all Druggiata
'Heim:Ames Inlmitable Flair Coloring has born steadi
ly growing in favor for over twenty years, IL acts - upon
the stmewhents at the roots of the hair, and changes it to
its orig;nal color 17 degrees. All instantonuens. dyes
deader, and injure the hair. lleimstrect's it not a dye,
but is certain in its results, promotes its growth, and is a
beautiful Mir Dressing. Price ;TO cents and $ . 1,00. sold
17 all dealers.-
Saralnya Rpring 1T (er g sold by etlllDruggiste.
teal's tXfIACT OP POPE JAMAICA Om:En—for bdlgee
lion. Nausea, Heartburn, Sick Headache, Cholera 11lorbus,
at., where a warming, genial stimulant In required. Its
rarerni preparation and entire purity make It a cheap and
reliable article ror culinary purposes. Sold everywhere
at SO cents per bottle.
Saratoga Spring Water, sold by ail Druggists,
jnlyll, 1860-rowly
Vg,./111 the above articles for sale by S. S. WIRT 11,
Huntingdon, Penns. •
PROF. . 11. IsEENTIRE'S GREAT REMEDY,
1111141 COMPORD
Wong and anal Mid,
EMU=
Ant- Diarrhrea, Bloody Flux in one day,
43r Headache and Earache in three minutes.
43- Toothache in one minute.
AZ , Neuralgia In fire minutes,
Sprains in twenty minutes,
Sore Throat in ten minutes,
41, - Cholic and Cramp in live minutes,
Rel - - Rheumatism in one day,
toe, Pain in the Rick or Sido in ton minutes,
rtA,, Bad Coughs or Colds in one day,
•
03.. Fever and Ague in One day.
Cures Dearnese, Asthma, Piles,
sm, Bronchitis Affections, Dyspepsia,
Inflammation of tb• Kidneys, Erysipelas,
Liver Complaint and Palpitation of the Heart
Keep it in your Families—Sickness
comes tchen least expected.
I propose to check, and effectually dissipate more ache
nod pain. and to accomplish more perfect equilibrium of
all the circulating fluids in the human system. than can
be effected by any other, or all other methods of medical
aid in the Fmno space of time.
THIS I'OPIJI,AIt REMEDY is fast coming into use, for
the fact [Mt I cure, tree of charge. all these coin
plaints whenever, there is an opportianity to do no. A 8
noon as it is applied it almost miraculously, kills the pain.
I do not ask you to buy before you are certain of Its efh•
ciency. If you have an acheor pain, it is warranted to do
all it purports on the label.
I do not propose to cure erery disease—only a ClaBB
neroed fey my direCIiOCIFI. My liniment operates on chem
ical and electric principles, and is, therefore. appliable,
to the cure or natural restorative of all organic derange
ment ari,ing from au improper circulation of the nerve
vital fluids.-
Prof. J. IL McF.ntyie's INDIAN COMPOUND acts di
rectly on the tbbserbents, reducing glandular and other
arq!Ung, iti Incredible short time, mahout any possible
,danger front its use muter any possible circumstances.
This is an internal and est , real medicine—composed of
.roots, herbs and harks, such as our forefathers used.—
alters is a bountiful supply on earth, to cumuli complaints
.if we only know what they wore.
This has been a great study with the Medical Faculty
for many years, to find out the kinds bent adapted to the
above complaints—how to put them together, and what
_proportions to use. J. U. McENTYRE,
Proprietor; Reading, Pa.
For sale at Lewis' Book Store.
jluntingdon, Pa, Sept. e, 1885.
IdoENTYRIPS
iq
DA DELION PILLS,
For all diseases arising from one cause, viz: Fever and
Ague, Dyspepsia, Catarrh In tho Head, Weak and disor
dered Stomach, such as Indigestion, Sick Headache, Did.
diness of the Head, We.skness of Sight, Windy Ailments,
Rheumatism, and Rheumatic Pains, Pains in the Rack or
Side, Nervous Debility, Lowness of Spirits, Impurity of
the Blood, Blotches or Eruption. of the Body, Gravel,
Worms, to., to. Sold at 25 cents per box.
14IoENTYRE'S
INDIAN VEGETABLE
WORN DESTROYER !
ThNnfatlible medicine Is warranted to expel worms In
all cases and may La gis.su to cnildren of all aged, as they
are purely vegetable and porfeetly barmled4.
V..— Can be had at howls' Book' store, Huntingdon, Pa
ALEXANDRIA BREWERY.
THOMAS N. COLDER.
The undersigned having now entered into the
T o* Alexandria Brewery, the public ore informed
that he wilt he prepared at all times to till
, orders on the shortest notice.
TILOS, N. COLDER.
Alexandria, Oct. 23.1866-1 E
IS1 =1 .1 "4 0.3005.
All kinds of Spices fur sale at T.risis' Family Gro-cery,
Huntingdon, Ps.
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WILLIAM LEWIS, Editor and Proprietor.
VOL, xxir
61obt.
HUNTINGDON, PA
[Prom tho Lady's Friend.]
SWEETS or WOMAN'S LIFE
=I
A babe at rest on mother's breast,
Too youngto smile or weep,
Conscious of naught but mother's love,
So sweet is infant's sleep.
A child at play in meadows green,
Plucking the fragrant flowers,
Chasing the bright wing'd butterflies,
Su sweet are chilhood's hours.
A. maiden fair as early dawn,
Radiant with every grace,
Gladd'ning the eye that looks on her,
So sweet is beauty's face.
A softly blushing, downcast look,
Murmur of startled dove,
Answering another's tender words,
So sweet is maiden's love
A white-robed virgin kneeling low,
Before God's altar bows,
Forever joined two hearts and hands,
So sweet are marriage vows.
A youthful mother bending o'er
Her first-born beauteous boy,
Forever hers till death shall part,
So sweet a mother's joy.
A matron in life's autumn time,
With young life clustered o'er,
Her children's children clasp her knees,
So rich is autumn's store.
An aged form, whose dimming eyes
Foretell departing breath,
Are clawed by grateful, luting bands,
So ew•cet io peaceful death.
Six feet of grass grown tlow'ry sod
. On earth's kind shelt'ring breast,
Forever freed from grief and pain,
So sweet eternal rest.
SPEAR GENTLY.
"I am entirely at a loss to know
what to do with that boy," said Mrs.
Burton to her husband, with much con
cern on her face and in an anxious tone
of voice. "I never yield to his imper
ious temper; I never indulge him in
anything; I think about him, and care
about him at all times, but see no good
results.
While Mrs. Burton was speaking, a
bright, active boy, eight years of ago
came dashing into the room, and, with
out heeding any one, commenced beat
ing with two large sticks against one
of the window sills and making a deaf
ening noise.
"Incorrigible boy !" exclaimed his
mother, going quickly up to him, and
jerking-the sticks out of his hand, "can
I not teach you either manners or de
cency? I have told you a hundred
times that when you come into a room
where any ono is sitting you must be
quiet, Got up stairs this moment, and
do not let me see your face for an
hour !"
The boy became sulky in an instant,
and stood where ho was pouting sadly.
"Did you hear what 1 said, get up
stairs this moment!"
Mrs. Burton spoke in a very angry
tone, and looked quite as angry as she
spoke.
Slowly moved the boy toward the
door, a scowl darkening his face, that
was but a moment before so bright and
cheerful. His steps wero too deliber
ate for the overexcited feelings of the
mother; she sprang toward him, and
seizing him by- the arm, pushed him
from the room and closed the door
loudly after him.
"I declare I am out of all heart!"
she exclaimed sinking down upon a
chair. "It is lino upon lino and pre
cept upon precept; but all to no good
purpose. That boy will break my
heart yet 1"
Mr. Burton said nothing, but ho saw
plainly enough that it was not all the
child's fault. He doubted the use of
speaking out and saying this unequiv
ocally, although be had often and ofen
been on the point of doing so involun
tarily. Ile knew the temper of his
wife so well and her peculiar sensi
tiveness about everything that looked
like charging any fault upon herself
that be feared more harm than good
Would result from an attempt on his
part to show her that she was much
more than half to blame for the boy's
perverseness of temper.
Once or twice the little fellow show
ed himself at the door but was driven'
back with harsh words until the hour
for tea arrived. The sound of the tea
bell caused an instant oblivion of all
the disagreeable impressions made on
his mind. His little feet answered the
welcome summons with a clatter that
stunned the ears of his mother.
"Go back Sir I" she said, sternly, as
ho burst open the dining-room, and
sent it swinging with a loud conells
sion 'against the wall, "and see if you
cannot walk down stairs more like a
boy than a horse."
Master Henry withdrew, pouting
out his rosy lips• to the distance of
nearly an inch. Ho went up one flight
of stairs, and then returned.
"Go up to the third story, where you
first started from, and come down
quietly all the way, or you shall not
have a mouthful of supper."
"I do not want to," whined the boy.
"Go up, I toll you, this instant, or I
will send you to bed without anything
to eat."
This was a threat which former ex,
perionce bad taught him might be ex-.
ecuted, and so ho deemed it bettor to
submit than pay too dearly for having
his own way. The distance to the
third story was made in a few light
springs, and then ho came pattering
down as lightly, and took his place at
tho table, quietly, but silontly.
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1860
"There—there, not too fast; you
have plenty to eat, and time enough
to eat it in."
Harry settled himrelf down to the
table as quietly as his mercurial spirits
would let him, and tried to wait until
he. was helped, but in spite of all his
efforts to do so, his hand went over
into the bread-basket. A look from
his mother caused him to drop the slice
he had raised; it was not a look in
which there was much affection. While
waiting to be helped his hands were
busy with his knife and fork, making
a most unpleasant clatter.
"Put down your hands I" harshly
spoken, remedied this evil, or rather
sent the active movement from the lit
tle fellow's hands to his feet, that com
menced a swinging motion, his heels
striking noisily against the chair.
"Keep your feet still ?" caused this to
cease.
After one or two more reproof's, the
boy was left to himself. As soon as
he received his cup of tea he poured
the entire contents into the saucer, and
then tried to lift it steadily to his lips, In
doing so ho spilled ono-third of the
contents upon the table-cloth.
A box on the ears and a storm of an
gry words rewarded this feat.
"Have I not told you over and over
again, you incorrigible, bad boy, not to
pour the whole of your tea into your
saucer? Just see what a mess you
have made with that clean table-cloth?
I declare I am out of all patience with
you? Go away from the table this
instant?"
Harry went crying away, not in an
ger, but in grief. He had spilled his
tea by accident. His mother had so
many reproofs and injunctions to make
that the bearing of them all in mind
was a thing impossible. As to pouring
out all his tea at a time. he had no rec
ollection of any interdiction on that
subject, although it had been made
over and over again very often. In a
little while ho came creeping slowly
back and resumed his place at the ta
ble, his oyes on his mother's face..
Mrs. Burton was sorry that she had
sent him away for what was an acci
dent; she felt that she had hardly been
just to the thoughtless boy. She did
not, therefore, object to his coming
back, and said, as ho took his seat,
"Next time see that you are more care
ful. I have told you again and again
not to fill your saucer to the brim;
you never can do it without spilling
the tea upon the table-cloth."
This was not spoken in kindness.
A scene somewhat similar to this
was enacted at every meal; but in
stead of improving iu his behavior the
boy grew more and more heedless.
Mr. Burton rarely said anything to
Harry about his unruly manner, but
when ho did, a word was enough.
That word was always mildly yet firm
ly spoken. He did not think him a
had boy or difficult to manage—at
least he had never found him so. "I
wish I knew what to do with that
child," said Mrs. Burton, after the lit
tle follow had been sent to bed an hour
before his time, in consequence of some
violation of law and order; "he makes
me constantly feel unhappy. I dislike
to be scolding him forever, but what
can I do? If I did not curb him in
some way there would be no living in
the house with him. I am afraid he
will cause us a great deal of trouble."
Mr. Burton was silent. He wanted
to say a word on the subject, but ho
feared that its effect might not be what
he desired.
"I wish you would advise me what
to do, Mr. Burton," said his wife, a lit
tle petulantly. "You sit, and do not
say a single word, as if you had no
kind of interest in the matter. What
am Ito do? I have exhausted all my
own resources, and feel completely at
a loss."
"There is a way, which, if you would
adopt it, I think might do good." Mr.
Burton spoke with a slight appearance
of hesitation. "If you would speak
gently to Entry, Lain surd you would
bo able to.manage him far bettor than
you d 0."..
Mrs. Burton's face was crimsoned
in an instant; she felt the reproof
deeply ; her self esteem was severely
wounded.
'Speak gently, indeed !" she replied,
"I might as well speak to the wind; I
am scarcely heard now' at the top of
my voice."
As her husband did not argue the
matter with her, nor say anything that
was calculated to keep up the excite
ment under which she was laboring,
her feelings, in a little while, quieted
down, and her thoughts became active.
The words, "speak gently," were con
stantly in her mind, and there was a
reproving import in them. On going
to bed that night she could not get to
sleep for several hours; her mind was
too busily engaged in reviewing her
conduct toward her child. She clearly
perceived that she had too frequently
suffered her mind to get excited and
angry, and that she was often annoyed
at trifles which ought to have been
overlooked.
"I'm afraid I have been unjust to my
child," she sighed over and over again,
turning restlessly upon her pillow.
"I will try and do better," she said
to herself as she rose in the morning,
fooling but little refreshed from sleep.
Before she was ready to her room she
heard Harry's voice calling her from
the next chamber where he slept. The
tones wore fretful ;- ho wanted some
attendance, and was crying out for it
in a manner that instantly disturbed
the oven surface of the mother's feel
ings. She was about tolling him, angri
ly, to be quiet until she could finish
dressing herself, when the words,
"speak gently," scorned whispered in
her oar. Their effect was magical ; the
mother's spirit was subdued.
"I will speak gently," she 'murmur
ed, and went into Harry, who was still
crying out fretfully.
-PERSEVERE.-
"What do you want, my son," she
said in a quiet, kind voice.
The boy looked up with surprise ;
his eyes brightened, and the whole ex
pression of his face was changed in an
instant.
"I cannot find my stockings, mam
ma," be said.
"There they are, under the bureau,"
returned Mrs. Burton, as gently as
she had at first spoken.
"Oh yes,'so they are !" cheerfully
replied Harry; "I could not see
them anywhere."
"Did you think crying would bring
them
This was said with a smile, and in a
tone so unlike his mother, that the
child looked up again into her face
with surprise that was, Mrs. Burton
plainly saw, mingled with pleasure.
"Do you want anything else ?" sho
asked.
"No mamma," ho replied cheerfully,
"I can dress myself."
This first little effort was crowned
with the most encouraging results to
the mother ; she felt a deep peace-set
tling in her bosom, the consciousness
of having gained a true victory over
the perverse tendencies of both her
own heart and that of her boy. It was
a little act, but it was the first fruits,
and the gathering, even of so small a
harvest, was sweet to her spirit.
For the first time in many months
the breakfast table was pleasant to all.
Harry never once interrupted the con
versation that passed at intervals be.
tween his father and mother. When
he asked for anything it was inn way
pleasing to all. Once or twice Mrs.
Burton fbund it necessary to correct
some little fault - in manner, but the
way in which she did it did not in the
least disturb her child's temper, and
instead of not seemin ,, to hoar her
words, as had almost always been the
case, he regarded all that was said,
and tried to do as she wished.
"There is a wonderful power in gen
tle words," remarked Mr. Burton to
his wife, after Harry bad loft the ta
ble.
"Yes, wonderful indeed ; their effect
surprises mo."
"Love is strong."
Days, weeks, months and years
went by; during all this time the
mother continued to strive very earn
estly with herself; and very kindly
‘vith her child. The happiest results
followed ; the fretful, passionate, dis
orderly boy became ever-minded and
and orderly. in A .wcird
gently spoken, was all powerful in its
influence for good, but the least shade
of harshness would arouse his stub
born will and deform his fair young
face.
Whenever mothers complain to Mrs.
Burton of the difficulty they find in
managing their children, she has ono
piece of advice to give, and that is,
"command yourself; and speak gen
tly."
SOLOMON'S TEMPLE.—There is a
charming tradition connected with the
site on which the temple of Solomon
was erected. It is said to have been
occupied in common by two brothers,
one of whom bad a family; the other
had none. On this spot was sown a
field of wheat. On the evening suc
ceeding the harvest, the wheat having
been gathered in separate shocks, the
elder brother said to his wife :
"My younger brother is unable to
bear the heat and burden of the day.
I will arise, take of my shocks and
place them with his, without his know
ledge."
The younger brother being actuated
by the same benevolent motive, said
within himself:
"My elder brother has a family, I
have none; I will contribute to their
support; I will arise, take my shocks
and place them with his, without his
knowledge."
Judge of their mutual astonishment
when, on the following morning, they
found their respective shocks undimin
ished. This course of events trans
pired for several nights, when each re
solved in his own mind to stand guard
and solve the mystery. They did so,
when, on the followinn• b night they met
each other half way between their re
spective shocks, with their arms full.
Upon ground hallowed by such an
association its this was the Temple of
Solomon erected—so spacious and
magnificent, the wonder and admira
tion of the world. Alas in these days
how many would sooner steal their
brothers' whole shocks, than add to
them a single sheaf.
"IT WAS MY BROTHER'S e- While
passing.along rapidly up King street,
wo saw a little boy seated on a curb
stone. 110 was apparently about five
or si years old, and his well combed
hair, clean hands and face, bright
though well patched apron, and whole
appearance, indicated that he was the
child of a loving though indigent moth
er. As we looked at him closely, wo
were struck with the heart-broken ex
pression of his countenance, and the
marks of recent tears on his Cheek. So,
yielding to an impulse which always
leads us to sympathize with the joys
or sorrows of the little ones, we stop
ped, and, putting a hand upon his bead,
asked what was the matter. Ho re
plied by holding up his open Land, in
which we beheld the fragments of a
broken tiny toy—a figure of a cow.
"Oh ! is that all ? Well, never mind
it, Step into the nearest toy-shop and
buy another ;" and we dropped a four
pence into his hand. "That will buy
ono, will it not ?" "Oh!" replied ho,
bursting into a paroxysm of grief;
"but that was little brother Tommy's,
and ho is dead."
Tho wealth of the world could not
havo supplied the vacancy that the
breaking of that toy had left in his lit
tle heart. It was Tommy's, and ho was
Owl!
[For the Globe.]
Slarider,
Of all the strange things on earth,
one of the strangest and most pitiable
is slander. It has always been a mys
tery to me how beings, endowed with
mind, intellect; and all the grand fac
ulties which God has given them, can
deliberately dissect the errors, weak
nesses and foibles of their fellow-be
ings; and especially has it been a won
der to me how- woman, who it is pre
sumed possesses delicacy, refinement,
gentleness, and all the purer attributes
which leaver assigns her, can take
delight in willfully vituperating, cen
suring and slandering their own com
panions. Who can estimate the evil
done by these slanderers? I have
known young men with buoyant hopes,
high aspirations, and noble genius,
whose increasing efforts bid fair to be
crowned with success, when the Soroc
co-breath of the vile and envious slan
derer crushed every hope, every joy
in life. I have known gentle maidens
whose heart was joyous, whose clear
sparkling eye mirrored a soul free from
guile, whose step was light and to
whom life seemed a beautiful dreaml---
when lo ! the hard, cruel coils of the
Gorgon slander, quietly crept around
her, and the gentle girl slowly sank,
hugging the wounded heart, the blight
ed hopes, the agony of a crushed spir
it to her, till the grave proved the
kindest friend and embraced the dear
victim. I think as did the philosopher
"that in the clear-sighted wisdom of
God, there aro many inmates of the
State prison less morally guilty than
the Blun d ror."
The species of slanderers are so va
rious they can be classified. Tho first
we will call Backbiters; a mean, des
picable crow. You meet them unsus
pectingly as friends; they greet you
with a Judas' kiss ; with faces radiant
with smiles they fondle, flatter, cringe
and caress. You don't know you are
taking a serpent to you, whose venom
ous sting is the herald of the darkest
hour of your life. You are no sooner
out of their sight than meaning glan
ces are given, base insinuations made,
and "did you hear so and so ?" and
then they fabricate wicked, base tales
and accusations, which have no found
ation but their own 'wicked designs;
and all this about the being who when
present they are "so fond of." 0! yo
whitened sepulchres, with the black
hearts I _Slander will have its day, but
Right will triumph.
Another class we will call Exaggera 7
tors. It may be from envy, hatred;
(or Satan knows best what,) but they
delight in multiplying small errors, till
they become unpardonable crimes. It
is another incomprehensible fact to me
that some people cannot see another
rise, excel, or acknowledge' another's
superiority in any thing without feel
ing their heart strings tear; even if all
they possess has been obtained by toil
and heart-weariness, it is all the same;
they hate them because they are more
fortunate, and even while they flatter,
they are cage': to give them the down
ward push. Ah ! I have watched the
basilisk eyes of the envious, selfish and
malicious plotter, ready to crush every
joy of a more favored ono; and when
ono errs, makes one false step, then (I
say it sadly) I have seen delicate wo
men, who called themselves christians,
who, instead Of quieting or making an
effort to hush the foul tongue of slan
der, have themselves, with malice as
dark as beings from Inferno, added to
the story, aided in spreading the re
port, and even hinted themselves of
dark suspicion, till even if the erring
one bad hoped to rise, they would be
crushed and ruined by their own com
panions. Strange, God's beings should
become so warped, so selfish, so narrow
souled, as to discard all the pure and
holy attributes that make earth-angels.
Ah ! the white robe of Charity drapeth
but few ! Strange, we forget that wo
too are liable to erry , that we too have
foibles. Why not, instead of judging
harshly, adding here a little and .there
a little to the vile tale of slander, gen
tly take the erring one, point to the
white temple of repentance, and bid
them hone !
The last class we will call Gossipers.
They are more harmless, for .they are
known. They live by gossip; 'tie their
highest enjoyment; tattling slander in
all form is the slimy, horrid food they
feed upon; they grope on in the quick
sands of sordidism, and ever will, for
ignorance is perverse, and they have
not the intelligence to • engage in a
profitable conversation. Give them a
hint, and they will run to a neighbor
ing affinity, and with flashing cyo and
hurried tone repeat the story, with
several additions, ending with a phar
isaical smile and exulting look of, "I
told you they wasn't as much as they
pretended to be !" Ali, me, ye foul
vampires, who draw the life-blood drop
by drop from your fellow-beings, you
will surely meet with just retribution !
GIPSY W I Lll.E.
[For the Glofte.j
PINIKEL PINT, Posen:they 12.
Mister Edditer:—lsly muz sod I cood
go to town agen, as I had bon good for
awilo, to hear the Bel Rinkors with
the papers Bed were coming, so I fixed
mesolf up in my best, and was jist
startin whon my muz sod to me,
"Bonny," son she, "Bensy,"
The shadas of nito air Min pant,
You must outer the village fast,
But 'fore yu go, take my advice,
Tu not lot fellers thee entico—
Tu see stars fall.
Yurc fixed now in pure very best,
Let gal-lentry do all the rest.
Stun water stood within my eyo,
Wen I sod, if I don't I'll dye
A tryin tu,
As I skutod along I thot how nice
it was to liv in a town. Tharo you
can go In the theatre when over yu
want and all the nice things that cum
TERMS, $2,00 a year in advance.
around shows there, and then yu can
take yuro gal, and she'll like yu for it.
I was suno there and-for fear the star
fellers wud git after me agen I hasten
ed to find the perteetive influenzes of
femail sersiety. I thot I wood he gal
lant and take a girl to the Bel Rinkers
theater. I knowed many of the gudo
girls and I soon stood tromblin on - the
door step of one of the best. I pound
cd the door and it soon opened.
"Sorer Jane," soz I, "Sorer Jane, will
you go to the Bel Rinker theatre 7"
Sorer looked skeered, her broth
came quick and short, her hands trem
bled and become cold, the blood depar
ted from her cheek, and she sunk soft
ly down on a sofer; then I was skeered.
"Serer Jane," sez I, "Sorer Jane, did
I hurt you 7"
"Mister Kruzer," sez she, "Mister
Kruzer, I'm not hurt, but I was so ta
ken by suppriso. You know, Mister
Kruzer, this town ain't like other pla
ces; why, here the young men never
take the young femails any place, and
they allers have to take themselves.—
The young men alters oall wen there
ain't nothin goin on, exsept wen the
girls make cakes and taffy. And wen
you axst me to go with you to the
consert I wasn't used to it, and any
other femail in this town would have
fallen the same way; but, Mister Kru
zer, sez sbe, Mister Kruzer, I'm glad
in my soul that a now lite is braking
on our benighted town, (1 wundered
if she ment the star life hed seen the
other nite,) and; sez sho,rll go with yu.
Jist then Salves brother came in and
sod the Bel Rinkers theatre wouldn't
be, 'cause Unkle Jail( woodn't let 'em.
"And Tinkle Jaik's oven= of the
town, is he 7" sez I.
"No," sez Sorer, "no, but you see,
Bensy, you see, we're a very poor
town, and wo can't afford to have a
place for the people to meet, only on
the korners, and besides thare aren't
any.room to Mild. holm& We don't
have no konserts or leckturs or metins
only on the korners and at the post
orfis. Tho county used to lone us their
house, but since Tinkle Jaik's guvener
they don't do it. 0,, my poor native
town, my poor native town." •
Sorer 's lied begun to leak, and I-felt
so bad that I tore meselt from the
house, and rushed heedlessly thru the
dark muddy streets, only konsold by
the thot that I had saved a hat dollar.
I disrememer much till just by a lite
I met a feMail who was walking fast
too. I was keopin to the right, wich
you know is the law of the rode, but
she didn't know it, and didn't keep to
it„so_we was nearly rushin into each
other. -- Vremour - stoptTand-stopt aside
to let the other pass, but it hapent to
be the same way and we were still
furnenst each other. We both got so
flurried that we dodged back and
forced into each other's way, till—till
I slipt and fell and she walked over
me. I ruined my best suit there on
that broad pavement jilt becazo she
didn't know wich side to keep. I
raised meself from my inkumbont po
sishon, and after refusin many invita
shuns to stop in and hear the Bel lin
kers, I plodded my way to my own
native pint, and there, wile the free
winds of heaven played with my hair,
and the tree frog sang its lonely melo
dy ;* there, wile the stars-looked cam•
ly down on my trubled broW, and the
korn stocks pintod their slender column
to the sky; there I vowed I'd purse
cute sumbody for damages to my
clothes, and I rite to you to know how
I'll do it. Direct to
BENSY KRUZER.
(*Wo think Bonsy's tree frog must
hare boon very lonely, as that insect
is not to be heard in December—En.]
Seeing a wretched looking lad
on the plains near the Humboldt des
ert, nursing a starving baby, a trave
ler asked him what the matter was.
"Wall, now," responded the youth, "I
guess I'm kinder streakt. 010 dad's
drunk , ole woman's got the by-stories;
brother Tim be playing poker with two
gamblers; sister Sal's down thar
eourtin of an entire stranger; this
yere baby's got the diaree the roust
sort; the team's clean guv out; the
wagon's broke down. ' it's twenty miles
to the next water—ldon't care a darn
if I never seo Californey."
DRUNKARTA TESTIMONY.—"TeII me,"
said a benevolent visitor to a poor
drunkard when urging him to abandon
the intoxicating cup, "where was it
that you took your first steps in this
intemperate course ?
"At my father's table," , replied the
unhappy man. "Before I left home to
become an apprentice I had acquired
a love for the drink that has ruined me.
The first drop I ever tasted was handed
me by my now poor heart-broken
mother 1"
ilEir“Do you propose to put Ike into
a store, Mrs. Partington ?"
said the old lady, "but I am pestifer
ous to know which. Some toll mo the
wholesome trade is the best, but I be
lieve the ringlail will be the most ben
eficions in his present abdominal con-.
dition."
Iler"Can you toll me, Billy, how-it
is that the chanticleer always keeps
his feathers so smooth and slick ?"
"No." "vat it is because he always
carries his comb with him."
wa,,,"Aw, how do you like my mous
tache, Mich Mauro. ?" lisped a dandy
to a merry girl. "0, very much; it
looks like fuzz on the back of a cater
pillar I"
ika_Young ladies who faint on being
proposed to, may be readily restored
by whispering , in their oar that yon
were only joking.
J'3. - 1 1 Te do not belicvo in spiritualism
or magic, but tho other day a veracious
witness actually saw a young man
turn into a public houtie.
JOB PRINTING OFFICE.
THE •aGLOBE JOB OFFICE" itf
the most complete of any in the country, and pos•
senses tho most ample facilities for promptly executing in
the best style, every variety of yob Priuteug, each
lIAND BILLS, • _. -
CIRCULARS, •
• •
BILL. MAUS,'
CIARDS,
NO. 25.
CALL AND SZAWINI SPECIMENS OP woax,
LEWIS',BOOK, STATIONERY & MUM Mat;
Wintering Farm Animal 6
Some farmers treat their horses Err
winter much as they do their fattening
cattle and sheep; they give them abun
dant food, and but little exercise, keep'
them in a warm and dimly lighted
stable, and if they do but grow fat,
with their cattle and sheep, they deem
it convincing proof that the proper'
course has been pursued. Now horse&
in good working condition, at least,
should always be seen on the premises
of a good farmer,
but his gratitude to
wards these, faithfulservants should
not induce him, at any time of the
year, to stall feed them. The butcher
wants thick meat and plenty of tallow
in the cattle and sheep, but the plow
man looks for strong muscle, spirit and
endurance in his team. The food and
care of the different animals should be.
consistent with the• ultimate purpose•
they are to serve. Fat horses that ,
have been wintered mostly in the
stable, without much exercise, are not
fit for hard service , at the opening of
the working season in the spring, and
a prolific source of disease is the hard
work they are frequently compelled to
do when they are not in proper condi
tion.
The'ordinary winter business of the
farmer does not call for much exercise
of his team, and if he have several,most
of them may be entirely idle. In such
cases it is an excellent plan to have a
yard for their especial benefit, well lit
tered and safe, and let them have ac
cess to it several hours each day. The
horses should be unshod, and if any
are vicious they may be turned loose
at different hours from the others..
Tho horses will show by their playful
actions how much they enjoy this tem
porary relief from the stall. Another
very important thing, often neglected
by farmers, is the grooming of their
teams. In the summer time the horse,
by rolling in the pasture, to a certain
extent cleans himself; besides, the rains
have some effect. But in the stable'
he relies on the care of his master,and
the keen enjoyment the currycomb
and brush evidently give him, should
amply reward for the labor. A well
lighted stable, thoroughly ventilated
yet free from currents of air, should
also be provided.
In regard to the feed. of horses most
farmers, we think, will agree to, the
proposition that it is always good eco
nomy to grind or mash all kinds of
grain before feeding. It is well estab
lished that cut straw, cornstalks, or
other coarse fodder fed with some grain
is cheaper than to winter the horses
- wholly on hay. Without - stopping to
assign reasons,we think they also come
out in spring in better condition than
when fed on hay alone. Good wheat
or oat straw fed with bran strengthen,
ed with cornmeal has been found excel
lent. When the weather is not too •
cold it is preferable to dampen the cut
hay or straw and sprinkle the meal on
it.
The wintering of horses should bezin.
with the first approach of cold autumn?
nights. No work horses should now .
be left in the pasture except in the•
day time. Exposure to a single au
tumn storm might cause damage
enough to the farmer's teams to have,
paid tbr years of timely oar°. •
Good Farming and Good. Crops.
There aro seasons when it is next to ,
impossible that good crops can ho pro*
duced. To be from twelve to thhlteen
weeks without rain, with a scorching
sun prevailing unobstructed, as was,
the case in many parts of the country.
in 1852,is a visitation no crop,however
well tended, can be expected to hold
up against. But those instances are
rare. Good cultivation is always more
than a match for the common vicissi
tudes of a season. Whett we hear ai,
farmer say that the moisture o
drought, heat or cold, has played the
mischief with this or that crop, we at
once suspect that it is his mode of
farming that has caused the mischief,
When does John Johnston,the great
New York farmer, fail in his crops ?
When does Charles Williams, of the
adjoining county of Montgomery, who
in all respects is the equal of Mr.
Johnston, fail in his crops ? Of course
some seasons, from prevailing causes,
the crops are better or poorer than in
other seasons ; but with such farmers t
failure is a word they know no,klain,
about.
We havo just received a aote•from a
subscriber in the Great Valloyi, Ches-.
ter County, Pa., wha informs ne., drain,
his crops were never better. "But7sho,
adds, "I. cannot say as much for ms•
neighbors. Their failure, however, is
owing to their own want of attention.
They don't cultivate enough. They
don't manure enough. They don't,
drain enough. They are not carefu/
enough in selecting their seed. They
don't sow enough to the acre. They
don't drill it deep enough to give it a
firm rooting before the frost Bets in,,
and thus protect it against what is call-.
ed winter killing. Many of them spend
too much time in the villages,at horse,
races, public sales, &c. I do not say
this invidiously, but only because it is.
the truth. Good farming almost inva‘-
ribly brings crops. So at least has you , i,
humble servant found.—Ex.
MOST EXPEDITIOUS WAY OP FATTEN..
ING FowLs.—Coop them in a moder
ately warm, dark, quiet place, with
good ventilation, and keep them per
fectly clean, and food on boiled or
steamed potatoes, mixed with crushed
oats or oatmeal, and blended with
sweet milk with a little fine sand add
ed, and given warm, but not hot, it
in health and well attended. they will.
ho fit for use in a fortnight. They ,
may also got beans, pea, or barley
meal mixed with the potatoes.
W - N ov or put off till to-morrow what
)iou can do to day,
POSTERS,
BALL TICKETS,
PROGRAMMES,
BLANKS',
LABELS, &C., &0., &a: