VOL. 46 e Huntingdon Journal J. A. NASII, DURBORROW tae Corner ctf Rog. Ma 11:141i high .i. R. Drnponnow 'and J. A. NAszi. r the firm maul, of J. IL Drnnonnow 3: Co.. at per annan!. Anv ; tscm 0r , i , 2.50 if not paid 6ix month , from da:e suhieription, amt not lucid within tho year. rarer cliieontintml, unit, at the ortlon of üblisher, until all arrearages ar, paid. IVERTISEMENTS will he inserted 40it TON per line for each of the Grit:, four insertions . I%t. CENTS pc: line for each subsequent inset. than three month, :War monthly and yearly ativertisements will erted at the - following rates l9w;ly 4 00'5 0 6 00 , 4r,d 00l'18 00!.$ 27 $36 600:: 0110 00 12 001 2 ' :24 00,'36 10i tO: 65 6 00:10 00 14 00,15 i 34 03,'60 OUI 65' 80 8 03;1800 2.) 00.24 00! 1 I e-. 1 CO n9' 69 00 8O 100 vial notices will be inserted att TWELVE AND .r cr.,crs per line. and local nn4 editorial no at FIFTEEO CENTS per line. Resolutions of A.ociotions. Communication, !al owl oth, notices will he ehar,;:il to the havinA th,ln insertA cerlising Ag le of th. ircrt. ,nts must And Ihei; l'olor, done with neatness and dispatch.- 301, Itlan!is. Card, Pamphlet?, tc.. of every y and style. printed at the shortest notice, :ere thin,., in the Printing line will he exec:, the most artistic maaner anti at the loweq Travellers' Guide , SYLV AN IA RAIL ROAD. Winter Arrangement. I:ASTWAND. TATION X. ' N. , , ;! .. 12 14 12'23 7 ii! C •- !I: ~.~ C'r ii:rn~ ... 1 4 , 1.!1': Fart L7r, rives at linntinTion at 1 einc!nnati rap,. Eartwanl . x., and arrive• r.t tic Exprc, iia•dward, leant , . 11-KACR Ilitatinolona innati Expre, Westward. :r.tv and arrive= at Altoona at 4 ZO A.:7. hot Lim Wettward. mare. iltintiag,t, Ind arrives at Altuena at 8 P. M — leave; at; 05 tltoona at 7 15 TINGDON AND DROAD TOP BAILRJAD. Winter Arrangement. um, after Wednesday. Nor. 21.1. Ino, will arrice and depart 1/3 fuilOWS : DOWN TRAINS CCOM. :TAIL STATIONS. A. 31.1 P. M. g Sal' An 4 10 S •2B' 402 613; 340 .1. A. M. LE 9 00 nuatingll,o3. 9 0 , Long Siding 42 9 21 51c1:099E4144w° 49' 930 Plea.ant 09 942 Markle..mrg Is 10 00 C.ffeo nun 4. 10 OS Rough awl Ready 40 10 '23 Cove 4 , 10 f. 7 Fishers Sulam: 05 10 .13 c az . 10 10 .50.- OSlRMlllecamrg 11 IG llopewell. 11 11 56 Tats 12 OS!Blocsly gun.... jss.l2 12;Monnt Dallas. SIIOUP'S RUN BRANC:I. is G4. , AR 2 On la is 10 skSaxton, 11 10 17011.1. 11 15. Craws T. , 6I; LE 1 eo 25!Dnd14 113mmdZm_city . JofiN 31'iiILLIi S,. S C PT. 22. 1870. Professional Cards 'ILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at, ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at. •• Law, liantEngdwt. Pa. lzitcelal attentito to C0m...1105% of all kiwis; to the settle of Estates. A.e.; and all other Legal Businee cute,' with folvlity awl dispatch. Offiee in room lately occupied hr MI:01 Esq. [jau.4,'7l. W. Y TON . Attorney-at-Law, I.lun. tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart, pan. 4,11. BALL MUSSER. Attorney-at-La Huntingdon. Ps. °flit, se•con.l n‘.nr w's new handing, Hill Ljan.l,'7l P. W. JOHNSTON, Surveyor • and Scrivener, Huntingdon, Pa. All kinds drartin,;, donent short notice. Wood, S; [marl ^,'69. M. & M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys nt-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend to ttrusted to their care. Inn street, fourth do Dan.l,ll. SYLVANITS BL AIR, Attorney-at- Law, Ilantinplop. 1.. Otiki., rtreet, doors w-st , Smith. [inn. l'7]. A. I'OLLOCK, Surveyor and :Real Estate Agent, Huntingdon, Pa.. will attend ,eying in nll its branches. Will also buy, rent Farms. Houses, and Real Estate of ov al, in any part of the United States. Send i min r. pan.4'7l. R. •J. A. BEAVER, having located at Franklinvillc, offers his professional err to fat, community. Lian.l,7l. W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law • a.' General Claim Agent, Huntingdon. Pa.. Bets' claims against the Government for back , bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend ., with great care and promptness. ace on Hill street. N SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. M. BAILEY, COTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At. torneys-at-Law. Huntingdon. Pa. Pensions. all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against Government will be promptly prosecuted. flice on Hill streeL fjan.4,7l. IR. D. P. MILLER, Office on Hill street, in the room formerly occupied by .Tohn M'Cullocb, Huntingdon. Pa., would res tfully offer Lis professional services to the cal = of Huntingdon and vicinity. [jan.l:7l. I'ATTON, Drug gist and Apoth • teary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun ;don, Pa. Pre: riptions accurately compounded. , Liquors fur Medicinal purposes. [n0v.23,'70. R. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his to the community. one door cart .4 I Dt11.1,'7 I. profe,sional yen ic. •ffice . Washingt9n at l'arFlnuge. J. GREENE, Dentist. Office re l• more:! to Leister'F new building, Hill street ,linglon. Ljan.4,"7l. ALLISON MILLER, ~;entist, has L• remove., to the Brick now, opposite the ,rt House. Dan.4;7l. iXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon, I Pa. .1011 N S. MILLET, Proprietor. R. DURBORROW, Attorney-at • Law. Huntingdon, Pa., will practice in the prat Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular •ntion given to the settlement of estates of deco- .•-• , thee in the JOI - R!,L Building. .[feb.l,7l. 4 r; 0.; 1 71 , -f s7f . —_L - „.,,n in on Journat T 0 ADVERTISERS THE II UNTINGDON JOURNAL. PUBLISIIED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING J. P. DI7.III>OIHZOIV A. NASH Office corner of Washington and Bath Sts. HUNTINGDON, PA THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM _ ~? CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA 4 57 9 07 4 4 9 ou E 4• • V :; ;• -n CIRCULATION 1500, lIO3IE AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE• MENTS INSERTED ON RE A. SON ABLE TERMS. 1 05 ILE I 00 A FIRST CLASS NEWSPAPER. 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 WITH NEATNESS AND DISPATCH, AND IN TIIE LATEST AND MOST IMPROVED STYLI SUCH AS POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIRCULARS, BUSINESS CARDS; WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS; BALL TICKETS, PROGRAMMES, CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS SEGAR LABELS, RECEIPTS, PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS. BILL HEADS, LETTER READS, PAPER BOOKS. ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., 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 & PO Legal Advertisements. rpRIAL LIST FOR APRIL TERM -A- IS7I. FIRST WEEK. JohnCahan's Errs. vs. A. P. Wilson. (:co. C. Hamilton vs. David rouse. W. W. and D. C. Entri- ken V, James Entriken. Same vs. Wm. S. Entriken. Andrew Johnson vs. Powelton C. and I. Co. Ann Cook et al vs. Ge 01.., ,Year:. Wharton A Maguire vs. E. A. tireen Co. Same vs. Richard Langdon. John P. Zimmerman vs. Martin Walker. McDonald A. , Co. vs. Nicholas Lewis. John .M . Kelvy and wife VP. E. C. RObiIISGII. et. al, P. S. Brackenridge :vs. I). C. Salsburg. 11. C. Lockhart et. al. vs. ,Janes Bricker. D. li. and B. 11. Good vs. W. A. Orbison, et. at. S. A. Hughes & Bro. VP. E. A. Greene Co. Hannah Rudy vs. D. R. P. Neely. S. R. Douglas. holder vs. H. S. Wharton. Henry k Co. vs. Wm. Hatfield. Johnston Moore's Ears vs. James P. Moore. gar. Wm. A. M yer Lazarus It yer August Kohler vs. John E. Si Aaron Beightal. vs. Reuben DI Jacob Hoffman vs. John Bare .Toi n. Martin S Peterson vs. Post Coplin. William Miller vs. William M'Clure. M. M. M'NEAt Prothoaatory's Office, Mar. 15. Prot REGISTER'S NOTlCE.—Notice is hereby given. to all per,ons interested, that the following named persons have settled their ac counts in the Register's Office, at Huntingdon, and that the said a:mounts will be presented for con firmation and allowance, at an Orphans' Court, to be held at Huntingdon, in and for the county of Huntingdon, on Wednesday, the 12th day of April, neat, (1871.) to wit: 1. Administration account of Jacob Shay, one of the Executors of Jacob Detwiler, late of Brady township. deceased. 2. Final administration account of David P. Owin, administrator of Hon. James (l win, late of Huntingdon borough, deceased,.... Administration account of Hiram Shadle, ad. ministrator of Mary Shaine, late of Brady tp., do. ceased. d. Account of Dr. Wra. P. 31'\itc, administrator of Catharine Rutter, late or Shirley tp., ulcerated 5. Administration account of Theo. H. Cremer, Esq., administrator of Wet. W. Hildebrand, late o. Huntingdon Born. deceased. 0. Final account of Peter Varnish, adn:inistra• torof Jacob Harnish, Into of Morris tp., deceased S. Administration account of WmAlutschall, lix. township, deeeascd. 8. First and par; and John B. Peters terson, Into of Shirl 4 9. Administration mi . , ministrator of Jos. nut ceased. la. Trust acemmt of S, Trustee to sell the Real htt,or Cass tp., 11. Administralioa ttee,unt tiVmamm surviving administrator of Curfman, IpCn u:t 13. Admistration account of Abraham Grubb Executor of Andrew Fruker, late of Walker town ship. deceas,l. ' • ' • • ' " ' Dirt atiminisftation and trust account of I; D. Armitage, Etl., administrator, with the will an. nexcd or Joint Armitage, late of iluntingdon lore deceased. ,eerie, execato, of • irs• Bark iloccasod. 21. Administration account pi utor of Alexantlor Duffield, tats 2. Administration • eoln tp.. deceased, ti. Administration ,viri.,rat, • Administration a, naministratri. We,t act: 32 Atlininistration aceoun. awl David I'. Pheasant, exe late of Union town:Alit}, glee, . . Athnini,traticu act,c,zl:l Samuel Ptightni, administrat , late of Wa!lter township,- der .r, REGISTEn . S Ocetco. ) Ilantiuttdon, March 13. "VOTIOE is hereby given to ail per interested that the following Inventori the goods and ChilttiCS set elntrt 19 widows. I the provisions of the Act of l Ith o'," April, 1851, have been filed in the °Mee or the Cie the Orphans' Court of Ilinitiug:l, , n (own:v . , will be presented o ur "a pit e vnl t'ourt Wednesday, April 1:!th. 1,;-1 Invent , property. 1.11,, John , ••• • ,• property. toi.on I,y Mill, 'ale of Inventory and appraistno property, taken by I Smith, late of Maplet Inventory and apnrai,,ment of the p property, taken by .tlnrgorel horning, widor I,real Horning ' ' - ' Inventory n n property, taken Chriet ian Inrcntory an.l apin,i,e:ent property, Wan I.y Elizabeth .Y.,( Win. rileCarthy. late of Brady fp.. LEGAL BLANKS, . Inventory and apprai,enn,“ of tar person: property, taken 1.3 - t•usan Stryker, widow of Mal lon T. Stryker, late of West township, ,:coca: cal. Inventory nod appraisemeut of the person: properly, taken by Saran Walker. widow of Hem C. Walker. tar of . Alexandria Lore., eieeeaied. Inveutory and appraiseotent of the person; property, taken Jane Peightal, widow of San uel Peightal, late of Oneida tp.. tieee,e•l. PAMPHLETS ; Inventory and appraisement of the personal property, taken by Martha C. Weston, widow of John Weston, !ate of Mapleton hero, deceased. Inventory and appratseroent of the personal property, taken by Ally Clark, widow of Amos Clark, late Tod tp., deceased. Inventory and appraise meat of the personal property, taken by diary Green, widow of George Green, late of Oneida township, deceased. J. E. SMUCICER, Clk Orphans' Court. Huntingdon, Pa., March 15. ASSIGNEE'S NOTICE. Notice is hereby given that Wm. P. Ram sey and Eliza S., his wire, of Dublin township, Huntingdon county, Pa., by deed of voluntary as signment, dated February 9, 1871. have assigned all the estate real and personal of the said Wm. I'. Ramsey, (except so touch thereof as is by the laws of Pennsylvania, exempt front execution.) to John S. Nimmon and A. A. Skinner, of Franklin county, in trust, for the benefit of the creditors of the said Wm. P. Ramsey. All persons therefore indebted to the said Wm. I'. Ramsey will make payment to said Assignees, and those having claims will make known to the same without delay. JOHN'S. NIMMON, A. A. SKINNER, Fannetsburg, Franklin county, Pa. Feb. 22.'71.-Gt. No matter how well the track is laid, No matter how strong the engine is made, When you find it running on the downward grade, Put down the brakes ! If the demon of drink has entered the soul, And his power is getting beyond your control, And dragging you on to a terrible goal, Remember the adage, "Don't trifle with fire," Temptation you know is always a lair; If you want to crush out the burning desire, SECOND WEEK. Are you runing in debt by living too fast? Do you look back with shame on a profitless past, And feel that your ruin is coming at last? v., David Fousr. vs. Bias A; WOl Whether for knowledge, for honor or gain, Your fast wearing out your body and brain, 'Till nature no longer can bear the strain, v. P. R. It. The human is weak, since old Adam's fall, Beware how you yield to appetite's call, "Be temperate in all tb;ngs," was practiced by Paul; Put down the brakes! Ali, a terrible thing is human life Its track with many a danger is rife; Do you seek for the victor's crown in the strife! Put down the brains ! "Really, Minnie, I do wish you would try to be a little more sociable; you are so quiet that every one remarks upon it. Peo ple will soon really believe that you are unhappy—that I abuse you perhaps." And George Marshall frowned as he spoke these words to his young wife. "What nonsense, George ! I was always quiet." "I am sure you are always lively and full of fun when we spend a quiet evening at your mother's or cvhen we remain at home ; that is to say, if we have no visi tors." "Because I am happy then." laid her head upon his shoulder. know I never did care to go out. al aecou enjoy all these balls and Parties." "flon't, Minnie, it is undiguified." And he pushed her away. "I should like to know what you do enjoy. You must not allow these inerbid and „loamy feelings to grow upon you. It will sour and embitter our lives." "I do not think it is just to call me morbid or gloomy, or any one who can take such real comfort, such perfect hap piness in her home, in the company of her husband. I have always heard it was the sign of a healthy mind." "Well, I repeat, when I take you out, I should like to see you try to make your : elf mrseeable, and not go off in a corner. Look at 'lrs. Winsount Why can't you be a little more like her ? She always looks bright and happy. In fact, she is the life of the company." "I will beg to remind you that it is well known Mrs:Winsome keeps her smiles, and all that gayety which charms you-so, for the world. At house she is die-away and ill-tempered. L'ut I supposeyou would appreciate a wife like that." :ccec-~ : t. 'W. w. Ea "There is moderation in es. erything. I certainly do not appreciate one who acts as though she had not got two ideas in her head. With all Mrs. Winsome's faults, her husband has no reason to be ashamed of lam." l'Lai:.. Mordecai 1;. I,lt, T "Am I to understand from that, you are ashamed of me ?" And Minnie's face flushed crimson. "Well, I must confess, it is not very gratifying to know my friends think I have married little better than an idiot, and what makes ice more angry is the knowledge that you are iu every way su perior to her, if you would only try to make yourself agreeable. Another thing is rather annoying—to see Mrs. Winsome always dressed so handsomely—always in the latest style, while you have worn that one deem at least half a dozen times; and yet• I know that. her husband does not make as much money as I do. The fact is, she is a good manager." "If I am so stupid, it is a pity you mar ried me. I wish I was home with mam ma 1" of George Eby A:1.! It Pt int t It L. II of ,orge Ifollinan, late talon Wright, Isant, late of , F. Campbell of Leri Tiprry, cx -1: fp, deceased. mite) 11. Grove, And Minnie could restrain herself no longer. She covered her face with her bands, and cried as though her heart was broken. George fe:t that he had Leen unkind, and putting his arm around her, he tried to soothe her ; but his words had made too deep an impression on Minnie's sensative nature to be soon forgotten. She did not tell him, us many would, to go away ; hut she did not return his fond caresses. The truth was. although George Mar shall loved his wife fondly, he was to gay and thoughtless to fully appreciate her virtues. - He like many others, labored under the delusion that we were placed in this sorld tor the express purpose of en joying ourselves, and believed in doing so to the fuilest extent, while he was still yuung. l;sing a areat favorite, there was rarely au evening butwhat he had an in vitation for himself and wife to either a ball.party, or some amusement. This kind of life he enjoyed. He thought one quiet creabaj a week, passed at home was enough. Minnie took a very different view of things. She thought pleasure in modera tion was decidedly good; but her idea was one evening a week for excitement, and the others spent quietly at home. She thought it was really wicked, at least for persons in their eireumstances, to carry it to a greater excess, and not only a waste of time, but an utter disregard of health ; besides, she felt they could not afford it ; and she had made up her mind, if possible, to awaken her husband to the fact ere it was too late, for she saw the love of ex citement. was growing upon him.. i the oil WidOW of Inv. of Iltrree tai HUNTINGDON, PA., MARCH 29, 1871. gist Puoto' gowtx. = Put Down the Brakes. Put down the brakes ! Put down the brakes I Put down the brakes. Put down the brakes ! I2AorN-ZrOve. NINNIES TRIUMPH, CHAPTER I The next morning shewas cold and in different, although she saw lie was rather irritable, she took no notice whatever of it. When he arose from the table to go, she took up a paper and began to read. In a moment he returned with his hat and coat on, ready to start. He was an noyed at her strange conduct. He bad been accustomed to have her stand by his side every morning and kiss hiui half a dozen times before he went. This new freak was anything but pleasant, and he could not understand it; so he said, in rather a sharp tone : "Well, how much longer am I to ,be kept waiting this morning ?" "Why, I am not detaining you, George." "Don't you intend kissing ma goodby, then ?" "I have no objections; but I really do not think Mrs. Winsome wastes her kisses upon her husband." He felt the rebuke, and did not answer ; but stooping, kissed her. She returned it, though not in her usual way. This was not lost upon her husband ; buthe thought it best to take no notice, hoping the cloud would pass away before dinner-time. When he had gone, the affectionate lit tle wife arose, and clasping her her hands tightly together, exclaimed : — "Oh, dear, it 'was hard to let him go with that one cold kiss; but still he did deserve it. I must teach him a lesson, and one he will not forget, for our future happiness is at stake." _ _ Minnie then went up stairs and took the baby from the girl ; it was as much as she could do to keep from having a good fit of crying; but she made up her mind to be brave, so she pressed her little darling to her heart, and tiled to forget by rattling all sorts of baby talk, as all fond mothers do. She dressed the baby, then herself, and leaving word with Mary to have dinner at the usual time, and to tell Mr. Mashall she should not be home until evening. It is hardly necessary to say that Mr. Marshall was astonished when the message was delivered, and scarcely worth saying that he was decidedly angry; still, he was determined she should not know it. Ile would appear to take it as a matter of course. So, when he returned in the evening, he tried to act as usual, but it was not as easy as he supposed; and Minnie, who un derstood human nature well, and could read her husband like a book, saw plainly that he was anything but pleased. As for Minnie, she was too busy to greet him with her usual kiss, and when he sat down and rested his hands, instead of go ing and putting her arms aroand his neck, and, with loving words, frightening the ugly blues away, she merely said : "Come, George, supper is ready. and we must hurry, for I promised Mrs. Winsome we would go to the theatre to-night " Mißie could scarcely help laughing at the look of astonishment which her hus band gave her. Then he said : "Indeed ! You seem to be improving." "I am. I have been taking a few les sons from your charming friend, Mrs. Win some. She is a delightful companion. I knew you would be delighted to go with her thisevening." And she "You "Well, to tell the truth, I feel rather tired to-night; but as you promised I will I never "Oh, no! don't go on my account. If you feel tired, you had better remain at home. Mrs. Winsome said if you did not care going, I could go with - her." You might have knocked him over with a feather at that speech from the lips of his loving Minnie. It is needless to say he went. She dressed herself with the greatest care, and looked as pretty as a picture, Just as they are ready, Mr. and Mrs. Winsome came, and before he knew what he was about, he found Mrs. Winsome waiting for him to offer her his arm. Min nie and Mr. Winsome had gone off to gether. At one time he would have been pleas ed, but now he was actually annoyed, and before he arrived at the theater he was disgusted at the frivolous tone of Mrs. Wins:an e's conversation. CHAPTER H It was a difficult part of our tender-heart ed little heroine; neverthelss, she played it well. She was not very strong, and, therefore, it was no wonder she felt tired after spending the two last evenings out. At one time she would have got up to see her dear George off, no matter how tired she felt, but now, as she was takinc , the character of Mrs. Winsome, she thought she would play it thoroughly; so she told her husband she felt tired, and therefore would not get up yet—that Mary would attend to him. Then she added: 4 •You know that Mrs. Winsome never gets up until about ten. She thinks it is nonsense to see her husband off; she says they do not appreciate it, and I think she is right." So saying. Minnie turned over, as though to take another snooze. Mr. Marshall did not like this indiffer ence at all; but as he had so often said he wished she was a little more like the charming Mrs. Winsome, what could he say? He was obliged to swallow the mor tification and his breakfast in silence. No sooner had he gone, than Minnie jumped up and hurried, so as to make up for lost time. All the morning she was as busy as a little bee ; but as the time drew near for her husband to come home, she took a novel, and began to read. This was another surprise for our friend George Marshall; but he was still silent. Just as he was going out again, Minnie called him back. "George, I want to f. c e you about some thing very important." His heart was up in his throat. He hoped she wanted a goodby kiss, and per haps, to lay her bead upon his breast, and ask him to call her his loving little wife again. • "Well," he said, in a flattering voice. "I wanted to remind you to be home early to-night; for I have made up my mind to go to that surprise party." "But, my dcar, it is a fancy dress." 'I am well aware of that, and, what is more, well prepared; for I went with Mrs. Winsome yesterday, and selected my dress." Minnie did look lovely as the pretty flower-girl, and when she came into the room where her husband was waiting, and looked up saucily into his face, and said, "Buy some flowers sir ?" be could not help giving her a kiss. But still he wished she was his affec tionate little wife again, and, and he was just going to tell her so, when she very coldly said : "lie careful! There, that will do; you will disarrange my hair." It was evident there were many others beside her husband who admired herthat eve ning, by the undivided attention she re ceived; in fact, she was so continually sur rounded, that at last Mr. Marshall was obliged to acknowledge to himself that he felt actually jealous; and the best part of the joke was, that Minnie, though appar ently unconscious of her husband's pres ence, was nevertheless watching him nar rowly; therefore, the fact was not lost upon her. It would be impossible to tell the many things Minnie did, and the many surprises our poor friend Marshall had. One evening, when lie returned home, he found her lying upon the sofa, and naturally asked what was the matter. "Oh, I am half dead, I am so tired ! Mrs. Winsome and I have been out shopping all day, and oh, George,l have bought the most lovely new silk dresses, and hat, and cloak, and ribbons, and laces !" "But, my dear, where did you get the money from ?" "Why, told them to send the bill in to you—that is the way Mrs. Winsome does. They are all in the latest style too—so superb !" "Dash that woman !" thought Mr. Mar shall; and turned upon his heel, not in the best humor possible. Minnie did not look as neat and tidy as she used to do; but after supper she went up to dress, and when he asked her why she dressed then, she said: "As we are not going out this evening, I thought I would get Mr. and Mrs. Win some to come up, it is so dull and stupid alone; anything to kill time, you know." This was too much—they hadn't spent a quiet evening together for so long, that he would have given the world for a few of those hours when she sat upon her little stool at his feet, and her head upon his knee. Alas, could this be his Minnie! So changed—he sighed at the thought. The next morning he put on a clean shirt, and found there was no button on the neck; he took another, there was one off the wrist. "Why, my dear, how is this? There are no buttons on my shirts; it is the first time sudi a thing has happened since our marriage." "There, now George, do notbe unreason able; I can't do everything; I have no time to see to your shirts. I shall be obliged to have a seamstress to help me." When our hero went to the drawer for a clean pair of socks, he found about half a dozen pairs with large holes in. Almost exasperated, he exclaimed: "Really, Minnie, this is going a little too far. There was a time when you was not above mending my clothes; then you thought it a pleasure." "Yes, that was when I was foolish. Mrs. Winsome never mends her husband's clothes; she says it not a wife's place." “I wish you would never mention that woman's name in my presence. I hate and despise her !" And George Marshall ground his teeth in rage. 'limes have changed. You were once one of the loudest in her praise:" "For heaven's sake don't remind me of the time when I was a fool !" "And don't you remember when you wished I was like her? I think I have been a very apt scholar, George,—don't you ?'.. little too apt to please me." And with something like an oath, George Marshall left the room. Minnie buried her head under the bed clothes to keeping from laughing. Marshall did not feel very happy all day; he could not help thinking of the great. change in his with, and he felt he bad himself to thank for it. When she had been as good and affectionate as it was possible to be, he had not appreciated her—in fact, had only found fault. Now he would have given the world for some of those loving kisses and fond caresses which at one time she lavished upon him; now she never condescended to give one. Ile returned in the evening, weary and low spirited. He longed for her sympa thy, for a quiet evening with her, and he made up his mind lie would remain at home and enjoy one for the first time since that fatal quarrel; but, alas! the first words that greeted his ears were: "Oh, Georr , e, we shall not be obliged to mope at home this evening, after all; for I have bought two tickets for a con cert." Pcor fellow, he was so disappointed he could not answer. "You do not seem over-pleased." "No, I do not care about going out this evening. Ido not feel well enough. "That is provoking! but I suppose you will go to bed early, and I can go with Mr. and Mrs. Winsome. I would not have you go out on my account." "Marshall did not say anything, for he hoped Minnie would change her mind; but he was mistaken, for after tea she went up to dress, and when they called for her, she merely came in and told him she was sorry he could not go, started off in thebest of spirits. Then it was George Marshall felt the treasure he had lost; how weary, how lonely, how miserable he was! He could have cried, as he thought how he had taught her to love pleasure and frivolity, and now—oh, what would he not give to have his quiet little Minnie back! He was depressed in spirits, so sick at heart, that he laid his head upon his hands and sobbed aloud. "Oh, Minnie forgive me—love me once more!" A gentle hand smoothed his hair back, and a fond kiss was pressed upon his brow. He raised his head, and there stood Minnie, with the old loving smile upon her face. "Minnie, my own darling, do you still love me !"And he clasped her in his arms. _ _ . . But she drew back, and in a cold tone that chilled him, said: . .. . "Stop, stop; this is going a little too far—it is undignified ! Mrs. Winsome would not allow it." _ _ _ "For God's sake, Minnie, trifle with me no longer, unless you wish to break my heart ! Oh, darlin g , if yon knew how I have suffered, you would forgive me—you would feel you had your revenge. Can't you forget and forgive, darling, and be once more the loving little wife you were ?" And he looked up so imploringly at her, that Minnie's heart could withstand it no longer, and she threw herself into her husband's arms. "Oh, George ! do you really love your silly little Minnie best ?" "You were not silly, darling. I was the foolish one, not to appreciate your virtues,l was blind, but I am wiser now, and love you ten thousand times more. Only say that you will forgive me Minnie !" "I do forgive you with all my heart, dearest; but tell me where are you the happiest—at a ball, a party, theatre or opera ?" - - "Ah, Minnie, I have found the truth of what you have so often said—real happi ness is only found at home !" "Then you will not be angry, if I do say I do not enjoy parties, and want to stay at home with you—will George ?" "Angry, darling ? No; you have taught me a lesson I shall never forget ! Be once more my loving wife, and I shall never want to leave our home." "And will you promise never to ask me to take lessons from Mrs. Winsome again ?" And Minnie looked up with a mischievous smile. _ _ _ "Oh, Minnie, if you knew how I des pise that woman; and how I hate myself for ever insulting my dear, good little wife, by ask her to be more like herself ! How could I ever be such a blind fool ? But thanks to you, my eyes are at last open !" And George drew her closer to him. George had never felt happier than at that moment, as he looked down upon that sweet face, and saw those pretty blue eyes beaming so full of love. He kept his word ; from that time they passed their evenings at home. He often told Minnie he had never known before what real happiness was; and he never ceased to thank her for having played her part so well. Five years have passed, and it would be hard to find a happier family. George's Marshall's chief delight is in the company of his dear Minnie, and sporting with the three little rosy-checked children who make up their family. gleatling to the 4;11lion. Fashion-Ridden Women. One thing must be conceded to women, says Fanny Fern in the New York Ledger, namely, the grit to endure any amount of inconvenience, or even positive rain, for the sake of dress. Now men—what fail ings soever they may have, and time would fail me to enumerate them—always, to my knowledge, stop short of physical torture, when they must choose between tnat and "the fashion." Catch them at it ! The good fellows, loving their ease better than wives, houses or lands, shake their heads with a most decided negative at tight boots, tight hats, tight gloves; and wel come flannel undergarments and gum shoes, though their proportions may be thereby increased. This much I will say for them. But women ! I have seen them pale about the mouth, trying bravely to walk on those absurd pegs of heels run under the middle of their feet, while every muscle and joint were crying out in vain for mercy. I have seen them shivering, with defiant blue noses in the frosty air, while they tried, in our January snows, to keep their throat warm with—a necklace. I've seen their fingers looking like stuffed sausages, in gloves at least, two or three sizes too small; and when it was impos sible for them to bend one finger joint. I've seen them walk miles with a heavy water-proof cloak hanging over their aims, because that silk velvet suit must be worn, at all costs, and rain would ruin it. And now, io.t nvery woman outside of a lunatic asylum ought to rejoice in eman cipation from long skirts in the streets, fashion say they must be worn. And for one, I am heartly glad, when they are, to see a good quarter of a yard of mud em broidering these expensive silk and velvet trains; and, better yet, embroidering, as I knOcthey must, their stockings and un derskirts. As to catching cold, the world can spare such fools before they bring others into the world. So I don't wear mourning for them. Now, do you suppose women like these care about 'female suffrage." No, sir. They prefer female suffering. It is well to break ground for the car of progres, but You can't hoist women like that into it against their will. You've got to begin upon the little girls. Stop their candy feeding; their hot pastry luncheons at school recess ; their "children's parties from seven to eleven" at night; their un suitable clothes at all times, if' you want women who will ever have sense enough to know their rights from their wrongs, or breath enough or philanthrophy enough to care. when their own lives are easy, whether those of other women are hard or not. That's the whole of it! Give wo men healthy bodies and an intelligent edu cation and you'll have no need to be jog ging their elbows in the direction of their "rights." They will walk up and take them, just as inevitably and just as na turally as a man takes his wife after the marriage ceremony; and they won't care, any more than be either, what bystanders think about it. Tit-Bits, Taken on the Fly. Look before you leap. Live not beyond your means. At a great bargain pause awhile. A faithful friend is a good defense. A chaste eye exiles licentious looks. A good maxim is never out of season. A bitter jest is the poison of friendship. Give not ear to tale-bearers or babblers, nor be scurrilous in conversation. A coquette is a rose, from which every lover plucks a leaf—the thorns are left for her future husband. All efforts to make hay by gaslight have failed; but it is discovered that wild oats can be sown under its cheerful rays. Eve did not know as much as her daugh ters of the present day. Had they been in her place, instead of being deceived, they would have deceived. Keep doing, always doing—remember ing that wishing, dreaming, intending, murmuring, talking, sighing and repining are all idle and profitless employments. He who toys with time trifles with a fro zen serpent, which afterwards turns upon the hand that indulged the sport, and in flicts a deadly wound. Human nature shows many strange in consistencies. How often do we find the strong and great possessed of petty fuibl's that would seem ill in even the lowest and weakest; and how often do we find in the weak temporary gleams of greatness. Many a man has lived in poverty and want, compelled by force of circumstances to do small actions which he loathed, who had the heart of a prince; many a prince has lived whose soul was unworthy the body of a peasant. I have known vast quantities of non sense talked about bad men not looking you in tho flties. Don't trust that conventional idea. Dishonesty will stare you out of countenance any day in the week, if there is anything to be got by it. A "Cypher." A London contemporary gives us the key to the following cypher : "Fetnkpi cnh.—Uqtty yqw cig knn ugpt cp offtgnu vjev k ocy ytkvg gxgty vjkpy ncetgf cu vig itexg ecppqv efxtvkug cick ngpt hkxg rqwptu vq ightcy gargpugn cp k pknn ycky. PGNNXO." Which being translated is: "DARLING Arx.--Sorry you are ill.— Send an address that I may write. Eve rything sacred as the grave. Cannot ad vertise again. Send five pounds to defray expenses and I will wait.—NELLIE." The cypher is a very easy one. Take certain words, and shift the lettere two spaces onwards in the alphabet—and you do it at once by drawing two alphabets, and placing one above the other and you have a cypher. Thus, Ais the first letter, use C, the third; L the twelfth, me N; is the sixth, you use fl; and yen have the Russian-looking word qv, NO. 13. Ulu pule Muir. [Written for the JouRNAL. The Bible. Full oft doth stripling youth, and hoary age, Neglect the teachings of thy sacred page, When 'mid the crowded, bustling scenes of life, Or merged in pleasure's glittering vortex, rife With hopes, whose lambent beams a moment play, Pouring around the gorgeous flood of day In one broad, bright, unflickering, dazzing - • stream ; But 'tis alas! an evanescent gleam, Fleeting age, transient as the morning dew Whose vapors meet in Heaven's unclouded blue ; Too soon alas I is quenched the expiring blaze, Involving us in grief's bewildering maze •, Too soon the lustrous orb of Hope goes down, And chill Adversity's stern, withering frown Tortues the very vitals of our soul With anguish deep, beyond our weak control. But when our spirits feel the scorching blight— When keen Afflictions gloomy. sunless night Math trown around us sorros's deepening pall, And in its darkest shades enveloped all— Then heart-sick of this wearying life, Its never varying, ceaseless, joyless strife ; From low communion with earth's grovelling scene We turn away, to that pure gushing stream Whose limped waters can our thirst appease, And fit our souls for realms of blissful ease. Out-of-Work Christians. The vast and melancholy multitude of those who though members in what is called "good standing" of evangelical churches, are doing next to nothing for the cause of Christ, and are therefore harming it, presents a curious variety of moral and spiritual phenomena. Many of them find in their hearts a chronic and many-sided disinclination for duties which God has placed within their reach. Others seem perpetually to fall victims to the pride which forbids their undertaking work in which they are not likely to shine. Besides these, not to speak of the large class who are unmistakably, if not confessedly, cold and indifferent, because absorbed in, and overwhelmed by the things of this world, there is enough for a dozen armies who are, if we may take their own word for it, entirely ready and willing to display an untold degree of zeal and energy, "if they only knew what to do." It is not that they are divided in mind by the pressing urgency apparently distinct and opposite calls to duty, or that tho breath and luxuriance of the harvest puz zles them as to the proper place for their own particular reaping, but that, spiritu ally, they are actually "out-of-work," and don't know where or how to find it. They forget Christian labor is the most wonder fully self-propagating thing on the face of the earth ; and lovingly that thing which may seem least—if they would but bind that one sheaf and lay it by, tall grain enough will soon stand before them ripe and ready for the reaping.—Chronicle. The Loneliness of Christ. Did you ever think of Christ where he spoke of Himself as being alone, and in stantly said that He was not alone ? You will find in the Berlin gallery one of Ra phael's pictures of Madonna, in which there is an exquisite seizing of one of the most fugitive passages of time. The mother has a book, and she is reading, and the child is putting its hand in her bosom, and she has the expression of being absorbed in the book, and yet of having sufficiently noticed the child to look up. Her expres sion is caught just at that subtle moment of time, when she is thinking of the book which she is reading, and yet not quite thinking of it, but thinking of the child. The whole picture presents that thought, and you see it clearly. And where Christ speaks of Himself in this instance, it is one of those subtle transitions where he is thinking of himself in His relation to the world, and he speaks of himself as being alone, and yet, instantly lifting His thought to God, says, "Not alone." This sublime discrimination, how full it is of meaning, and comfort, and consolation to us, in our various relations of life. Spiritual Religion. Unlettered and unknown, poor and press ed down by toils and cares, a man may yet rear a structure which shall stand, in its strength and beauty, through eternal ages. He could not carve a figure, or chisel a statue, but he can build a living temple.— He could not paint a picture for his house, but he can hang the living virtues upon the inner walls of his soul. He could not number or name the powers of his own mind, but he can set them all upon their noblest objects. He is bewildered amid the distinctions of philosophy, but at home in the doctrines of God. He is lost, it may be, among the ignoble throng, while the great ones of this world roll past him, bright in splendors of evanescent life, but a great crowd of celestial witnesses have hint in survey, and there is a crown and a kingdom awaiting him above. Our God hides these things from the wise and prudent, and re veals them unto babes. Living Epistles. Christians are living epistles to be read. The world reads them every day. How. important that this living gospel, which walks and trades, and stirs about in public places, should be correctly printed I Yet how many of these living epistles have been printed from battered type, from mix ed fonts, on spotted paper, and in dim ink. nut, after all, orthodoxy is safer in the consecrated heart than in the theological library. Evang elism is an upright, open eyed, warm-haned, advancing thing, not the flat flimsiness of a mere programme, to be written and put away on the shelf, for safe keeping ; it is always alive, alert and growing; it is not dead Latin, but vital mother tongue in this country ; it is not steepled to church, cadenced in ritual, or robed at the altar so much as hi:arted in living people, and radiated in work day duties. I compare the troubles which we have to undergo, in the course of a year, to a bun dle of faggots, far too large for us to carry. But God does not require us to carry the whole at once. He mercifully unties the bundle and gives us first one stick. This we might easily manage. If we could only take the burden appointed for us each day; but we choose to increase our trouble by carrying yesterday's stick over again to-day, and adding to-marrow's burden to n- load before we are required to bear it.—John Newton, Is we would h — s - vepowerful !Muds wu must think,