VOL. 46 . Phe Huntingdon Journal F. IL DURBORROW I'UDLISIIERS AND PRODDIETOUS. Iffier the (',racy of Bachand Waehingtottetreete. Tim Herrman. JOURNAL is published every Xednesday, by J. It. Dennonnow and J. A. NAsu, miler the firm name of J. IL Dertuounow & Co., at :2.0) per annum, Ix ADVANCE, or $2,50 if not paid in. in six months from date of subscription, and if not paid within the year. No paper discontinued, unless at the option of he publishers. until all arrearages are paid. ADVERTISEMENTS will be inserted at TEN ;ears per line for each of the first four insertions, .utl FIVE CENTS per line for each subsequent inser- ion less than three months. . Regular monthly and yearly advertisements will .e inserted nt tier following rates : mI 9ml y I 3 m Gm 1 loch 17.0 t:0 4 SGI 600 1 0;01 900 18 00 " 800 6001 0 00,12 00; A " 2430 40 450 900'13 50118 001% " 34 00 5O 00 " 6 00,12 0048 002.4 00 " 7 50'18 00'22 50'3000 1 1 yr ::G OO 60 00 Special notices will be inserted at TWELVE ANIS . 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' N.H . amilton I 5 13,6 31 112 52,7 50 Mt. Union , l5 05,9 24 12 01 12 10,8 61 Mill Creek , 4 48:9 08 12 25 8 15 llotrisonox 5l 12 4 33,8 55 112 471 Petersburg .........-1....--14 1518 39 12 53 , Darree 4 06p3 31 1 07 123 , Birmingham........ ........ 3 44318 12 1 32 , 9 0607yrone lO 30 339 806 1 45 --- , Tipton _ 3 Z 5 7 57 153 llkstoria 1 58 ......,Bell's Mi 115..........„ ...-- 8 18 7 47 200 940 Altoona *lO 00 300 30 i r X.. 1.11.1 P. X. P.M. A.Y. 14! - 15'5 20' 63j...« ~ i ::~~~ ...._ pis ~ x.ls x.h The Fast Line Eaststard, ]eaves A Itoona at 1•' 49 ad arrives at Huntingdon at 1 17 A. M. The Cincinnati Express Eastward, loaves Altoona at 55 P. M.., and arrives at Huntingdon at T 05 P. M. . . FaCiflaxpress Eastward, leau.•a Altoona at 6 2.1 A. a., n I passes Huntingdon at 7 21 A. N. Cincinnati Express Westward, loaves Huntingdon at 35 A. a., and arrives at Altoona at 4 50 A. a. The Fast Line Westward, passes Huntingdon at 7 35 . at., and arrives at Altoona at 345 P. M. lIINTINGDON AND BROAD TOP RAILROAD. On and after Wednesday, Nov. 22d, 1870, Passenger rains will arrive and depart as follows : P Tan Amax. Accom. STATIONS. Long Siding MeOonnellstown Pleasant Grove MarkWalburg Coffee Ran_ A.M. rsa 8 40 8 29i 8 13, • 8 001 LI 00 08 21 30 46 1 oo I 08 1 23 I 27 1 43 1 50 11 08 11 10 11 36 P. e 5 20 • 5 23 6 42 49 0 03 CI Is 025 Rough and Ready Cove Fishers Summit ftxton !iddlestnirg Hopewell Pipers Run. Tate! ills --- Bloody Run Mount Dallas.-....._. [OUP'S RUN MUCCI I Saxton, SIII Its 10 551 1 1 . 0 401 ¢ 7 101 1. 0 0 -6101 Crawford._ Dudley Broad Top City JOHN MI ;ILLIFS: Professional Cards. MILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly 3 all legal business. Office in Cunningham's new uilding. [jan.4,'7l. IV ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at -11-x... Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention teen to COLLECTIONS of all kinds ; to the settle tent of Estates, fie.; and all other Legal Business ,rosecuted with fidelity cud dispatch. As,— Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton peer, Esq. Ljan.4,7l. 11 W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun- A- • tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart, i:sq. Lian.4,'7l. THALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law, • Huntingdon, Pa. Office, second floor of ,eister's new building. Intl street. Dan.4;7l. A P. W. JOHNSTON, Surveyor L-I-• and Scrivener, Huntingdon, Pa. AU kinds f writing,. drafting. Ac., done at short notice. Office on Smith street, over Woods A Williamson 's .aw Office. [mayl2,'69. PM. & M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys • at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend to .11 kinds of legal business entrusted to their care. Office on the south side of Hill street, fourth door vest of Smith. 1jan.4,71. T• SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at -1., Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Mee, Hill street, hree doors west of Smith. [jan.47l. TA. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real • Estate Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend o Surveying iu all its branches. Will also buy, or rent Farms, Homes, and Real Estate of or- Ty kind, in any part of the United States. Send or a circular. (jan.47l. DR. J. A. DEAVER, having located at Franklincille, offers his professional ser :ices to the community. [jan.4,'7l. W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law J• and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., +oldiers' claims against the Government for back my, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend- Id to with great care and promptness. Office on 0111 street. Dan. 4,71. 1011,1 SCOTT. S. T. MOWN. J. M. nAILEI• ‘,ICOTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions, ind all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against .he Government will be promptly prosecuted. Office on Hill street. Dan.4,'7l. DR. D. P. MILLER, Office on Hill street, in the room formerly (megrim' by Dr. John WenHoch, Huntingdon, Pa., would res pectfully offer his professional services to the citi zens of Huntingdon and vicinity. [jan.4,7l. T It. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth r., • (vary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun tingdon, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded. Pure Liquors for Medicinal purposes. [n07.23,70. DR. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his profeesional services to the community. OlEee . on Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan.4,'7l. EJ. GREENE, Dentist. • moved to Leister's new buildii lluntingdon. RALLISON MILLER, IJentitt, has • removed to the Brick Row, opposite the Court House. Lian.4,'7l. VXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon. Pa. JOHN 8. MILLER, Proprietor. January 4, 1871. F OR ALL KINDS OF JOB WORK, Oo to T a Jo MINA I. Bru.ntxu, corner of Washing ton and Bath streets. Our pressas and type are all new, and work is executed in the best style. The Huntingdon Journal. TO ADVERTISERS J. A. NASD, THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL 9 m i 1y 17,36,aai 500010500 G 5008900 6000 1000 PUBLISIIED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING J. IL DURBORROW & J. A. NASH. Office corner of Washington and Bath Sts., HUNTINGDON, PA. :0: THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA, CIRCULATION 1500. TRAINS. P. N. 4 .4 10 lIOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE- MENTS INSERTED ON REA- SONABLE TERMS. Lel%) A FIRST CLASS NEWSPAPER. feu 2 00 TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION $2.00 per annum in advance. $2.50 within six months. $3.00 if not paid within the year. JOB PRINTING ALL KINDS OF JOB WORK DONE NEATNESS AND DISPATCH. AND IN THE LATEST AND MOST IMPROVED STYLE, SUCH AS POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIRCULARS, WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS, BALL TICKETS. PROGRAMMES, CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS, SEGAR LABELS, RECEIPTS, PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS, BILL HEADS, LETTER lIEADS, PAPER BOOKS, ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC. Office re a g, Hill scree t Dan. 4,71. Our facilities for doing all kinds of Job Printing superior to any other establish ment in the county. Orders by mail promptly filled. All letters should be ad dressed, J. R. DURBORROW & CO. Grandfather is past ninety, and little May but four; Yet they love to sit together beside the cottage door; And as the old man dances his darling on his knee, He tells her of the far back time when he was young as she. Those long and rambling stories May oft before has heard, But she listens with wide-open ears to every well-known word ; And in her mind she wonders if lie remem bers too The man who live I in Noah's ark, when this old world was new. Grandfather's hair is scanty, and white as driven snow, While May's rich curls are golden, kissed by the sun's warm glow ; But as the young head nestles, fondly against the old, You see the sunlight blending the silver and the gold. -Grandfather is not book-learned, but from his early youth He has striven to walk heavenward, and loved the way of truth ; And now lie clasps his darling as the day is getting dim, And both together murmur a simple evening hymn. His stalwart sons come round him—and well advanced in years— tell Lim Low the world goes on, with all its hopes and fears ; But from their modern gossip he turns away to hear The childish prattle little May is whispering in his ear. Folks call the old man childish—it may be even so— His heart is as a little child's, and this we love to know; And somewhere it is written, that not the wise alone, But those who live in child-like faith, our Father calls Lis own. Grandfather is past ninety and little May but four, So they will not sit together long beside that cottage door. But we know when the old man from earth is called away, His God, and her's, will still protect Lis dar ling little May. x IN LOVE WITH AN IDIOT. I do not mean by the singular heading of my article that falling in love with an idiot is at all an unusual occurrence; and I do not mean to hint some degree of idi ocy is not always attendant upon one of the parties in the affairs de couer ; nor will I contradict the cynic who said that all people in love are idiots. 1 only mean to state a few facts, some of which are well known to people hereaways. Love is a species of insanity none the less potent because it is voluntarily assum ed. We have known men of fair attain ments, and possessing good strong sense, who cut capers when under the influence of the naked god, which caused their friends to stare We have seen men, as straight as an arrow, and as fair as Caucasian blood could make them, bend at the shrine of some dingy divinity, as crooked in tem per and dark in complexion as an Ethiop's ear; and We have seen one of Pennsylva nia's fairest daughters leave the refined circles of literary, scientific and amiable gentlemen, for the arms of a gangling country schoolmaster, too confused to speak, and too ignorant to write his at tachment. In vain did papa scowl and mamma cry; in vain did lawyers sneer and clergymen pray; the belle saw only beau ty in his warty face, grace in his ill-joint ed limbs,.and wisdom in the head of Mr. Birch—and warry Birch she would, and did, in the spite of the world, the flesh, and, as the lady. said, "in spite of the dev ;l" • Yet we must admit that the superior taste and love of congruity which distin guishes the fairer sex, induces them to rush with less haste into these mesalianres than men. With women love is a delicate and pretty sentiment, which she will shift, as she shifts the flowers in her bonnet, ac cording to the varying seasons and neces sities of her condition; with men the mas ter passion becomes a principle. But I am getting prosy, and must give the de tails of my story. In the autumn of the year 1815, the staid inhabitants of a county town of Fay ette county, in this State, were set to gos siping by the arrival of a young lawyer named who announced his in tention of settling in that town. A fine person, genial manners, great industry, and more than ordinary talents, set off and graced by singular modesty, made 8- highly acceptable to the villagers. Hav ing influential relatives in Washington, Harrisburg and Philadelphia, his company was much sought after; but like a safe youth, he buried himself in the duties of his office, apparently careless about the at tractions of the society of men or women In one of his visits to Washington, he, one fine afternoon in April, left the pol- ished circles who formed little eddies about the elegant wife of President Madison, and turned the head of the horse upon which he rode towards* Potomac. Pass ing the battle-ground of Bladensburg, he came, after a ride of an hour to the end of the little bridge made so famous by the attack and success of the English Admi ral Cockburn. The day was sultry, and stopping before the door of rather a taste ful cottage, he flung the bridle over the fence, and walked down the little path to a well which stood in the yard. Looking over the house, nothing could be seen ex cept a pair of deep blue eyes, which peer ed from an upper story window curiously down upon him, seeming to watch his motions with great interest. Looking at her more intently, he beheld the fair round face of a very pretty girl of about seventeen summers. She had light hair, regular features, and although more than usually prepossessing, the lawyer might have gone away, as he came, heart free, it it had not been for something in the blonde's deep blue eyes which made his heart bleed. WITH BUSINESS CARDS, LEGAL BLANKS, PAMPHLETS, "Young lady," said he, "will you assist Eye plow ,rinter. Grandfather's Darling. ght Aortgeller. BY G. B. WELDING. HUNTINGDON, PA., JANUARY 18, 1871. me in getting something from which to drink ?" This well is deep, and if I should drown myself in attempting to descend for it, it will not add to the attractions of the water." The head disappeared from the window, and in a moment the plump figure of the girl appeared at the side door with a cup, and placing it in the hand of the barrister, he put his lips to the edge of the vessel, and peering over the rim at the beautiful girl he drank a long draught. If he had been impressed before, now, when her fig ure was displayed in all its captivating graces, his heart beat more loudly than ever. Every bullet had its billet. Young S-- had passed unhurt through whole batteries of bright eyes at Washington, to be wounded beyond help by an accidental shot from the eyes of a country lass at a well. The girl walked rapidly into the house, leaving Mr. S- at the well, who mount ed his horse and attempted flight. He road a few steps and returned. The same face at the window; the same blue eyes, seeming to watch him with curious inter est. "Young lady will you have the kind ness to inform me of the name of the gen tleman who lives in this house ?" A long curious look from the young girl, and no answer. "I am a respectable gentleman. My name is S-, and I ask the name, inno cently and honestly." Again no answer, and again the lawyer turned his horse's head away from the cottage, muttering, '-confound it I feal very unhappy." The night was a long one, and the neat day he mounted his beast, and with vouch ers for his respectability, presented him self again at the feet of the girl, to know his fate. Throwing himself from the sad dle, he walked boldly np to the door, and knocked, a faded gentleman app .ared, and, in grave and dignified tones, asked his business. Upon placing the letters in his hand, the host asked our visitor into a sit ting room, furnished more elegantly than the outward appearance of the house would seem to indicate, and asked his business. "May I ask, sir, if that young lady whom I saw yesterday sitting at the win dow is your daughter ?" "It is my only daughter, sir, left to me by mysainted wife, who has ascended, and waits my coming." - "I infer, from your garb and dress, sir, that you are a clergyman." "In the cities," said the old man grave ly, "I would be called by that name. In deed, rt one time, I held the occupancy of Holy Trinity church, Philadelphia, but my failing health rendering me incapable of performing the arduous duties of a large parish I resigned my post, and came here to assume control over a small flock, and to attend to the health of my daughter." There was something indescribably sol emn in the face and tone of the clergyman as he uttered these last words. After a pause, he continued. "May I ask what I am indebted for the honor of this visit?" With more vehemence than he had ever manifested in his life, the young lawyer rapidly related the events of the day be fore, winding up by the statement : "I propose immediate marriage to your daughter, provided the young lady will have me." The father bowed his head, and looked sad. "Mr. S-," he said, at length, "do you know that my child has not a penny in the world ?" "I want to marry the girl herself, not for her money," s lid the lawyer. "Do you know," said the sire, "that my daughter's maternal grandparent was hang ed during the Revolution ?" "Why do you teM me of her grandfath er ?" said the lawyer, angrily. "I love the girl, and would marry her if all her grandparents had been hung since the flood:" Now there was a shade of pain, like the flit of a disturbing cloud over the face of a calm sunset, came and went over the old man's face. Twice he placed his hand on the red spot on his sad face, he sighed deeply, and, after an effort, he looked long and solemnly in the eyes of his visitor, and in solemn tones remarked : -Your language, your letter, and your earnestness, satisfy me that I am adaress ing a gentleman. I dare not treat your honest love rudely." The old gentleman paused, and again the solemn flashes of sadness came overhis face, while he looked as if he were survey ing the long, shadowy past. "I have not always, young man, been buried as you see me, in this remote place. I loved once, and the woman I loved now wears the crown of martyrdom. At the bidding of her Lord, she sacrificed the luxuries of her elegant Philadelphia home to follow the footsteps of a poor priest, who followed his Master. And in the labors and the loneliness of this place, she laid her life on the altar of sacrifice, leaving me with a desolate heart and this girl whom you love. I have never doubted," added the old man, with fervor, "that He would care for her." "I will give her position, wealth, and everything that money can buy," exclaim ed Mr. S-. "Do you know that my daughter is an idiot? Come this way, young man." The lover followed his future father-in law up a flight of stairs. "Look at your bride," said he, pointing to a figure on the floor. HalfrecJining on the floor and playing with a doll, was the object of his attraction. The lawyer ap proached the girl, and with the familiarity which sincere love only can give, rever ently lifted the mass of beautiful but sense less beauty upon a chair, and placing his hand upon her f)rehead, looked long and intently down upon her blue eyes. Alas ! she returned one look, as men look at things they do nut understand. It was all too true. The barrister was looking at vacuity. For a moment the lawyer sighed, as strong men sigh but once in their lives. "I wish to speak with you a moment alone," said S-. '•We can speak here. She will under stand no more than the dead." The two gentlemen parted at a late hour that evening, the faces of both pale and wet. When the snows of the neat winter were whitening the Potomac with: foam, S— and his bride stood before the altar of Dr. ()'Bryan's Church, in Washington. Ho looked ten years older. The sense of an unearthly trust and responsibility was consuming him When the ceremony was over, the bridegroom took his wife in his strong arms, as afather would take a child, and wrapping his cloak about her tenderly, placed her in the carriage. He stooped over Ler and imprinted one kiss upon her forehead. "It is the first," said be, "and it will be the last !" He had loved but once, and it was the last. The traveler who loiters for an hour in the quaint old town of Fayette, may see the remains of an old garden at the rear of one of the comfortable houses, and he may see the slight bars which surround a pretty window at the rear. Here, surrounded by all that money and love could buy, lived for forty years, the child wife of a brilliant lawyer—the wife of a man who was ap pointed District Attorney by President Monroe, and who, from 1821 to 1827, from 1831 to 1835 and from 1843 to 1847 —eight terms in all—served as Represen tative in Congress of the United States. Strange that in his strong, honest heart, at a time of life when passion and desire hold the ascendency, that this man should de vote his fine mind, his money, his all, to the care of a beautiful idiot. He secured the attention of two Christian ladies, (one of them an old flame of his,) end nothing that could add to the comfort of the singu lar wife was withheld. During his labors as a statesman, the husband always hasten ed back froni Washington, his hands full of toys and trinkets, and would sit upon the grass and amuse her. Some years ago the child wife—now grown old and gray, but still pleasant to look upon—was carried from her home to the place where the grass grows in the vil lage church-yard; and often at eventide, the villagers see an old man, with stooping figure and furrowed face, bending his steps toward the little church in the calm summer evening and arranging with his hands the flowers which bloom over the grave of the IDIOT WIFE. putting for theillion. Importance of Sleep. The cry for rest has always been louder than the cry for food, not that it is more important, but because it is often harder to get. The best rest comes from sound sleep. Of two men or women, otherwise equal, the one who sleeps the best will be the most moral, healthy and efficient. Sleep will do much to cure irritability of temper, pevishness, uneasiness. It will cure cure insanity. It will restore to vigor an overworked brain. It will build up and make strong a weary body. It will do much to cure dyspepsia. It will relieve the languor and prostration felt by con sumptives. It will cure hypocondria. It will cure the blues. It will cure the head ache. It will cure a broken spirit. It will scrrow. Indeed, we might make a long list of nervous maladies that sleep will cure. The cure of sleeplessness, however, is not so easy, particularly in those who carry heavy responsibilities. The habit of sleeping well is one which, if broken up for any length of time is not easily regain ed. Often a severe illness, treated by powerful drugs. so deranges the nervous system that sleep is never sleep—is never sweet afterwards. Or perhaps, long con tinued watchfulness produces the same ef feet. Or hard study, or too little Axercise of the Muscular system, or tea And spirit drinking, and tobacco using To break up the habit are required: First, a good, clean bed. Second. sufficient exercise to produce weal iness, and pleasant occupa tion. Third, good air, and not too warm a room. Fourth, freedom from too much care. Fifth, a clean stomach. Sixth, a clean conscience. Seventh, avoidance of stimulants and narcotics. For those who are overworked, haggard, nervous, who pass sleepless nights, we commend the adoption of such habits as will secure sleep, otherwise life will be short, and what there is of itsadly imperfect —Boy's Jour nal. OCCUPATION.—What a glorious thing is occupation for the human heart! Those who work hard seldom yield to real or fancied sorrow. When grief sits down, folds its bands, and mournfully feeds upon its own tears, weaving the dim shadows that a little exertion might sweep away in to a funeral pall, the strong sptrit was Flom of its might, and sorrow becomes our master. When troubles flow upon you dark and • heavy, toil not with the waves, and wrestle not with the torrent ; rather seek by occupation to divert the dark waters that threaten to overwhelm you into a thousand channels, which the duties of life always present. Before you dream of it, those waters will fbrtilize the present and give birth to fresh flowers, that will become pure and holy in the sunshine which penetrates to the path of duty in spite of every obstacle. Grief, after all, is but a selfish feeling, and niostselfish is the man who yields himself to the indulgence of any passion which brings no joy to his fellow-men A Word to Stern Fathers. It never can be too strongly impressed upon the mind that nothing releases a pa rent from his duties toward a child. No waywardness, no disobedience, no rebellion, no profligacy can ever justify a father in casting a son or daughter adrift. 'We hear of sons being cut off with a shilling, of daughters being forbidden their father's house, and, without any exception, such cases are proof that, of whatever sins the children may have been guilty, the father is even more guilty. No person can com mit against society so great a crime as a father commits who is thus false to the trust which he himself has imposed—who thus thrusts off from himself the soul which he called into being. A father should be g ,verned by no motive but his child's best interests, and a child's best interests can never be served by anything but his fath er's constant and loving care. If a child is so bad that his influence is feared on the other children, a separation may be ef fected. If it is feared that money bestow ed on him will be for his injury, provision may be made against that, as in the ease I have mentioned. But when a father, in a fit of anger, or as a reward for ill-doing, disinherit or refuses to see his child, he commits a crime which the law indeed do not recognize, but whose guilt it would take many a legal crime to outweigh. There should be absolutely no limit to pa rental forgiveness and forbearance. Seven times seventy times seven should the fath er receive the prodigal son who seeks his face; and if he never seeks it, if he goes, stubborn and rebellious, not one atom of fatherly care and interest should he relax; for the child is his child, his offspring, born of his will, and no vice or violence can release the man from his solemn obli gation to guard and guide, so far as possi ble, the life which he dared to give. Influence of Newspapers. The Boston Traveller states that a school teacher, who had enjoyed the benefit of a long practice of his profession, and had watched closely the influence of newspapers upon the minds of a family of children, gives as a result of his observations, that, without exception, those scholars of both sexes, and all ages, who have success to newspapers at home, when compared with those who have not, are 1. Better readers, excelling, in pronun ciation, and consequently read more under standingly. 2. They arc better spellers, and define words with case and accuracy. 3. They obtain a partial knowledge in geography in almost half the time it re quires others, as the newspaper had made them familiar with the location of import ant places and nations, their governments and doings. 4. They are better grammarians, for having become familiar with every variety of style in the newspaper, from common place advertisements to the finished and classical oration of the statesman, they more readily comprehend the meaning of the text, and consequently analyze its construc tion with accuracy. • 5. They write better compositions, using better language, containing more thoughts and still more clearly expressed. From these simple facts three important things can be deduced : 1. The responsibility of the press in sup plying literature which shall be under standingly expressed. 2. The absolute necessity of personal su pervision of a child's reading by his parents. 3. Having once obtained a good, able paper, no matter what the price, don't be grudge it a heartyeupport. A Touching Incident. The world is full of mournful incidents. How little do we know of the poignant sorrow myriads of our fellow creatures are compelled to suffer. The following touch ing event we take from the Boston Jour. nal: "An expressman upon reaching his of fice early one cold morning in January, observed on the sideopc, a long-, heavy box, which his practiced eye at once identi fied as containing a corpse. Upon the end of the box, shivering with cold, sat a little half-clad boy, about seven or eight years of age. Addressing him kindly, he said : "My lad, don't sit there, you will freeze, come in and sit by the stove." Bursting into tears the little fellow re plied. "No, I can't come, my mother is in this box and I promised her that I would not leave her until we got home." Deeply affected with the touching devo tion of this brave little fellow, he finally succeeded in convincing him of the entire safety of his precious charge, and taking him to a neighboring restaurant, gave him a warm breakfast, and then learned the particulars of his story. His father died about a year previously, in a remote vil lage in Minnesota, leaving his mother in poor health and nearly destitute. She died but a few days before the boy's sad jour ney, charged the little hero with the duty of conveying the remains to her friends in a distant State, and furnished him with (all she had) a sum of money barely sufficient to carry them both by freight cars to their destination. The little fellow had actually ridden night and day in a freight car with his melancholy trust, never for a moment losing sight of it. THERE 15 a girl in Jersey whose lips are so sweet that they stick together every moaning by the honey tney distil, and she cannot open her mouth until she has part ed her lips with a silver knife. She will be a treasure to her husband, not only on account of her sweetness, but because she can occasionally keep her mouth shut. PROCRASTINATION IS th© thief of time. Vile Iwo' utiget. Rich music—A million air. A bad place to get out at—the elbows. What every teetotaler must come to at last—His bier. A goat is as good as a miller, but suc ceeds better as a butter. "Professor of the accumulative art" is the California term for thief. A Chicago millionaire is traveling all through to find the best hotel in the world, so that he can beat it when he returns. "Pa," said a little friend of ours, "what's the use of giving our little pigs so much milk? They make hogsof them selves." Pa walked away. A musician, in giving notice of an in tended concert, thus expressed it: During the evening a number of songs may be expected, too tedious to mention. A St. Louis man is universally con demned by his friends for circulating the report that he was going to Europe, and then merely visited Paris, Ky., and Rome, N. Y. "Have I not offered yon every advan tage?" said a doting father to his sou. "0, yes!" replied the youth; "but I could not think of taking advantage of my father?" Here is one of Josh - Billings' late say_ ings: The man who spends all he can make in charities, will git his reward here and hereafter—but his reward here, will be the poor house." "My dear," said a sentimental wife, 'home, you know, is the dearest spot on earth." "Well, yes," said the practical husband, "it does cost about twice as much as any other spot," Davy Crockett once graphically describ ed the condition of a party of Mends af ter a political jollification who were so tipsy that neither of them could hit the ground at three times throwing. Mrs. Agassiz wrote: "I am never tired of watching the sloth, he looks so delici ously lazy." "It was hardly necessary," says the Christian Register, "to go to Brazil to secure this gratification." An Irishman writing a letter to his sweet heart, asking whether she would ac cept his love, or not, writes thus: "If you don't love me, pleaze send back the letter without breaking the seal." Miss Pippine says the best thing that most of the young gentlemen who call at her house could take would be their leave; and its merits would be increased in pro portion to the earliness of the period at which it is taken. A thirty-two months' girl in Worcester thus accostel her paternal relative a day or two ago : "Papa, will you buy me some holes to put in my ears, so I can have some ear-rings?" Papa is now look ing for the holes. A Colorado bush-whacker, with his arm in a sling, explained that a comrade kick ed over his coffee pot, and, when he re monstrated, put a bullet through his fin. "But he has gone where he won't kick over any more coffee pots," he added. "It's a good thing to have a hansome penman for a bean," said Mary, as she glanced over a billet dour. "Yes," replied Julia, "if the penman is handsome, I don't care how ugly the pen manship is." Waltzing by a new name.—A shoddy young lady surprised her mother on re turning from a dance, saying that she en joyed the '-hugging set to the music most bully." She had reference to waltzing, and why isn't that a good name for it ? The difficulty of expressing one's self in a foreign language is illustrated by the remark of a German girl, who went to see a fine boy baby, and, endeavoring to express her admiration, said, "0 my! what a nice fat babee! How fat she is, don't he?" A Massachusetts tradesman says : "A man who is owing me a little bill said he would call last week and pay me if he was alive. e still appears in the street, but as he did not call it is naturally supposed he is dead, and is walking about to save funeral expenses." A parson, not "a sea-faring man," ect., thus explained to his hearers the main idea of the text that hope is like an an chor to the soul : "My friends, I suppose you all know what an anchor is. It is a kind of a thing to get a ship under good headway with." The best anecdote we have heard about the late Dr. G- was this : The physi cian had a brother a reverend. A lady one day said to the former : "I wish you were as good a man as your brother." "A great deal bettei, madam," was the reply ; "he preaches and I practice." A Cincinnati lady, who recently found the gas escaping in her servant's chamber, asked her if she had blown it out instead of turning it off, and was told that she "was not so green as all that; she had only turned it on again a little, that it would be easier lighted in the mornin'." A clergyman, in a recent city, quoted an anecdote of an old merchant who instruct ed his clerks: "When a man comes into the store and talks of his honesty, watch him; if he talks of his wealth, don't try to sell to him; if he talks of his religion, don't trust him a dollar." A Cincinnati correspondent avers that while passing the Wesleyan Female Col lege, where young ladies go to "receive the last touch of grace and gracefulness," a feeble lady haugingon her husband's arm was cheerfully saluted from the group of misses in the yard with, "Say! what are you holdin' on to him for? He isn't goin' to run off." He thinks they must have finished their education. NO. 3. Vitt goat Cale. Nothing Good Shaft Ever Perish. Nothing good ahalliverportsk Only the corrupt shall die; Truth which men and angels cherish, Flourishes eternally. None are wholly God forsaken ; All His sacred image wear ; None so lost but should awaken. in our hearts a brother's care. Not a mind but has its mission— Power of working woe or weal ; So degraded none's condition,. But the world his weight may feel. Words of kindness words of warning, Deem not thou may'st speak in vain ; Even those thy counsel scorning, Oft shall they return again. Though the mind absorbed in pleasure, Holds the voice of counsel light, Yet doth faithful memory treasure What at first it seemed so slight. Words of kindness we have spoken, May when we have passed away, Heal, perhaps, some spirit broken, Guide a brother led astray. Thus our very thoughts are living, Even when we are not here ; Joy and consolation giving To the friends who hold us dear. Not an act but what is recorded, Not a word but has its weight; Every virtue is rewarded, Outrage punished, soon or late. Let no being, then be rated Asa thing of little worth Every soul that is created Has its part to play on earth. Sons of Zion. Sons of Zion What a title • of - honerf.. How poetical and significant I Yet, under the proud oppressor's hand, how are the mighty fallen The purity of hearts and sanctity of souls are nothing in the eyes of wicked rulers. Although estimated by the inspired penman as fine gold, good won are accounted by the world as earthern pitch ers. Men of truth, justice, benevolence— men of holy principles and noble purposes, are genuinely valuable. They have intrin sic worth. They are the salt of the earth —the light of the world. They are really great and rich, although apparently weak and poor. They covenanted in sacred broth erhood; they are heirs of immortallty.— Angels are their servants. Jesus Christ is their Redeemer. Heaven is their home. For them the universe revolves its shining suns. All things are theirs. Believers of every name and nation are the precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold. They who are faithful have a name and a credit for Christ's sake, which are honored among the shining hosts above, although they may be often hungry, and hated, and hunt ed down on earth. In all ages God's peo ple have been at discount in the marts of the world. Wealth mixes its alms with curses, and tosses the compound toward chill, shelterless pilgrims, as crusts and bones to a dog. The Old Testament saints were thus treated by peers of the realm and sons of estate. The first disciples of Jesus were ridiculed, mocked, and derided as the offscourings of the earth—as the followers of Him who was hanged. The Redeemer himself appeared as a root out of dry ground. He was despised and rejected of men. Down through the whole history of the church, good men have suffered persecution.— Workday Christianity. The Bow Drawn at a Venture. A person well known in Glasgow for superior talent and scientific attainments, but withal for a tinge of skepticism in re ligion, was met by an old companion hur rying to the Tress Church, while the bells were ringing fur the afternoon seivice.— "Come," said the friend, "and hear Chal mers." "I shall do no such thing," was the reply. "Do you think I would trouble myself to hear a madman ?" "You bad better judge for yourself by coming for once ;" and taking his arm, they were speedily seated in the densely-crowded church. Whit was the astonishment of the skeptical gentleman when the Doctor gave out for his text, 'I em not mad, most noble Festns, but speak forth the words of truth and soberness'.' He felt that his false judgment of the preacher was rebu ked, as it were, by a voice from heaven ; and the sermon which he heard,—the ob ject of which was to fix the ehargeof mad ness where it ought to be fixed, on those who, believing in a future world, continue to live without God and without hope; while it was shown that truth and sober• ness were only with those who act accord ing to their belief and profession of the gospel—was admirably fitted for deepening the impression made by the text, and for removing the flimsy arguments of "philos ophy, so-called." From that day forth the gentleman became a constant hearer of Dr. Chalmers, a confirmed believer in the doc trines, and a steady performer of the duties of the Christian faith. YOUNG man, it is easy to be nobody.— Go to the drinking saloon to spend your leisure time. You need not drink much now—just a little beer, or some other drink. In the meantime play chequers, dominoes, or something else to consume time; then you will be sure not to read any useful book ; or if you do read, let it be the "dime novels" of the day. Thus go en keeping your stomach full, head empty, and yourself playing time-killing games, and in a few years you will be nobody, unless you should turn out to be a drunkard or professional gambler, either of which is worse than to be nobody. THERE is no joy so great as that which springs from a kind act or a pleasant deed ; you may feel it at night when you rest, in the morning when you rise, and through the day when you are about your daily business. THEY who but seldom tastethe simplest pleasure, kneel oftenest to the Giver and the Cause. A conaurrioN of morals usually follows a profanation of tho Sabbath.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers