VOL. 46 e Huntingdon Journal. J. A. NASH, DURBORROW, PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS. on de Corner of Bath and Washington street.. HUNTINGDON Jounnet, is published every iesday, by J. R. DURBORROW and J. A. NASH, - the firm name of J. R. DURBORGOW & Co., at per annum, IN ADVANCE, or $2,50 if not paid six months from data of subscription, and not paid within the year. paper discontinued, unless at the option of üblishers, until all arrearages are paid. , VERTIgESIENTS will ce inserted at TEN s per line for each of the first four insertions, •ICE CENTS per line for each subsequent inser ess than three months. 4ular monthly and yearly advertisements wil serted at the following rates : 3043m19m ly I 3m 13m 2501 400 SOG GO l l col 900 1100 400 500.1000.1200$" 2400 3810 13 00110 00!14 00,18 00 .34 00 5110 8 00114 00 30 00 ; 21001 9 50'19 00 25 00:3000 1 401 `3500 60 00 ,cial notices will be inserted at TWELVE AND .F cEsrrs per line, and local and editorial no at FIFTEEN CENTS per line. Resolutions of Associations, Communications ate,' ur iadlridual interest, Etna notices of Moe 3 and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will be ed TEN CENTS per line. ;al and other notices will be charged to the having them inserted. certising Agents must find their commission le of these figures. adeertielog arcourats are doe and collectable the advertisement is once inserted. B PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and Colors, done with neatness and dispatch.- -bills. Blanks, Card, Pamphlets, he., of every .y and style. printed at the shortest notice, very thing in the Printing line will be execs the most artistic manner and at the lowest Professional Cards . C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law • Office, No. —, Hill meet, Huntingdon, [ap.19,71. "ILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney- at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention to collections, and all other Isgal business led to with care and promptness. Office, No. till street. [aplB,ll. 'ILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at - Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly legal business. Office in Cunningham's ucw ng. pan.4;7l. R. G. D. ARNOLD, Graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, offers his pro nal services to the people of Huntingdon and ty. .v . E h ß o n E e '— formerlyt'r' B. practiced; e l i t itt7 f it?. P an% w of Philadelphia. co on Washington street, West Huntingdon, [ap.19,'71. LISOX MILLER. 11. BCCOANAN. "MUER & BUCHANAN, DENTISTS, 228 Hill Street, HUNTINGDON, PA. it 5, '7l-Iy. DENGATE, Saryeyor, Warriors mark, Pa. [apl2,'7l. CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law, •No. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied sun. Woods & Williamson. [apl2,'7l. L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. • Brcwn's new building, iru. ao, Hill St., ingdon, Pa. [apl2,'7l. R. R. R. WIESTLLNG, respeotfully offers his professional services citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity. cc removed to No. 818} Hill street, (Sans's six o.) [apr.s,ll-Iy. R. DURBORROW,....A.ttoiney-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practice in the &l Courts of Ifuntingdon county. Particular ion given to the settlement of estates of deco- ce in he Jona:ea.'. Building. [feb.l,'7l GLAZIER, Notary Public, corner • "of Washington and Smith streets, lion on, Pa. Dan.l2'7l. ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at • Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention to COLLECTIONS of all kinds; to the settle of Estates, &e.; and all other Legal Business ;uteri with fidelity and dispatch. f Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton , Esq. Dan. 4,71. W. NYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart, [jan.4,ll. HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law, -11untingion, P. Office, second fluor of w's new building, Ilill etreet. Ejan.4,7l. 31 Sr, M. S i LYTLE, Attorneys- at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attelltd" . to Lids of legal business entrusted to their earn. eft on the south side of Hill street, fourth door if Smith. Dan.4,'7l. SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa. °Mee, Hill street, doors west of Smith. Dan.47l. A. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real Estate Agent, Jtuntingdon, Pa., will attend rveying in all its branches. Will also buy, r rent Earnis, Rouses and Real Estate of er ind, in, any part of the United States. Send circular. Lian.4'7l. R. J. A. DEAVER, having located at Franklinville, otters hie professional ear to the community. Dan. 4,71. W. M ATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., sra' claims againit the Goverlment for back uounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend with great care and promptness. cc on Hill street. SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. E. BAILEY. 'OTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions, 11 slaims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against overnment will be promptly prosecuted. ce on Hill street. [jan.4,7l. R. D. P. MILLER, Office on Hill street, in the room formerly occupied by ohn APCulloch, Huntingdon, Pa., would reg ally offer his professional services to the eiti -3f Huntingdon and vicinity. Dan. 4,71. R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth- S ecary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun on, P. Prescriptions accurately compounded. Liquors for Medicinal purposes. [n0v.23,'70. R. A. B. BRIUBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. ce on Washington street, one door east of the die Parsonage. [jan.4,'7l. J. GREENE, Dentist. Office re / moved to Leister's new building, Hill street ingdon. • [jan.4,'7l. Miscellaneous OBT. BIN(, Merchant Taylor, 412 Washington street, Huntingdon, Pa., a lib ;hare of patronage respectfully solicited. ril 12, 1871. EAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT, OR. WAYNE and JUNIATA STREETT UNITED STATES HOTEL, HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA JAIN & CO., PROPRIZTORS. Mehls-tf KCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon, Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor. auary 4, 1871. )NR AD MEYER, Inventor and Manniacturer of the :LERRATED IRON FRAME PIANOS, Varerooms, No. 722 Arch St., Phila. received the Prise Medal of the World's Great bition, London, England. The highest Prises dad when and wherever exhibited. [Estab- I in 1823.) March 29-3 mos. The Huntin g don Journal. TO ADVERTISERS :0: THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL. 9mlly PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING J. It. DITRBORROW Sc J. A. NASH, Office corner of Washington and Bath Sts., HUNTINGDON, PA. THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA, :0:--------- CIRCULATION 1500. :0: HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE MENTS INSERTED ON REA SONABLE TERMS. 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. :0: JOB PRINTING ALL KINDS OF JOB WORK DONE WITH NEATNESS AND DISPATCH, AND IN TRW LATEST AND MOST IMPROVED STYLE, SUCH A 8 POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIRCULARS, BUSINESS CARDS, WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS, BALL TICKETS, PROGRAMMES, CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS, SEGAR LABELS, RECEIPTS, LEGAL BLANKS, PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS, BILL HEADS, LETTER HEADS, PAPER BOORS, 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 & C') p otte BY OLIVER WENDELL EIOLUES. Come, dear old comrade, you and I Will steal an hour from days gone by— The shining days when life was new, And all was bright with morning dew— The lusty days of long ago, When you were Bill and I was Joe. Your name may flaunt a titled train, Proud as a cockerel's rainbow tail ; And mine as brief appendix wear As Tam O'Shanter's luckless mare ; To-day, old friend, remember still That I am Joe and you are Bill. You've won the great world's envied prize, And grand you look in people's eyes, With HON. and LLD. In big brave letters fair to see— Your fist, old fellow I off they go How are you, Bill? How are you, Joe? You've worn the judge's ermined robe ; You've taught your name to halt the globe ; You've sung untukind a deathless strain; You've made the dead past live again ; The world may call you what it will, But you and I are Joe and Bill. The chafing young folks stare and say : "See those old buffers, bent and gray— They talk like fellows in their teens I Mad, poor old boys I That's what it means." And shake their heads; they little know The throbbing hearts of Bill and Joe. llow Bill forgets his hour of pride, While Joe sits smiling at his side ; How Joe, in spite of time's disguise, Finds the old schoolmate in his eyes— Those calm, stern eyes that melt and fill As Joe looks fondly up at Bill. All, pensive scholar, what is fame ? A fitful tongue of leapinl. flame; A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust, That lifts a pinch of mortal dust; A few swift years, and who can show Which dust was Bill and which was Joe? The weary idol takes his stand, Holds up his bruised and aching hand, While gaping thousands come and go— How rain it seems, this empty show Till all at once his pulses thrill; 'Tis poor old Joe's "God bless you, Bill.' And shall we breathe in happier spheres The names that pleased our mortal ears. In some sweet lull of harp and song For earth-born spirits none too long, Just whi s pering of the world below Where this wai - Bill, and that was Joe? No matter ; while our home is here No sounding name is half so dear : When fades at length our lingering day, Who cares what pompous tombstones say ? Read on, the hearts that love us still, Ric facet Joe; ilk facet Bill. Abe ffiterg-Zeller. BOLD STRIKE FOR A WIFE. BY JUDGE CLARK. It was my first visit North since I had taken up my abode and entered on the practice of my profession in New Orleans. In the city of New York I had a very dear friend, my old chum and classmate, George Dickson, and as he was the only person I knew in the metropolis, of course I lost no time in looking him up Three years had passed since our last meeting, but ten could scarcely have pro duced a change more marked than had ta ken place in the appearance and manner of my friend. Our first greetings and friendly inqui ries over I longed, yet forebore, to ask the cause of my friend's melancholy. I felt sure, in due time, of being made the con fidant of the secret, provided no motive of delicacy prompted its concealment. That evening, in my room at the hotel, George told me his story. He had formed an attachment for a young lady, whose grace of mind and person he portrayed with all the fervor of a lawyer's eloquence. She had returned his affection, but her father had opposed his suit, having set his heart on the marriage of his daughter to a nephew of his. This nephew was a young physician, of profligate character, my friend assured me —but that may have been prejudice—who had long but unsuccessfully wooed his cousin, to whom his proffers were as repug nant as to Ler father they were acceptable. Some months since, Mr. Parson, the young lady's father, had gone South on business, accompanied by his nephew. At New Orleans he bad been seized by sudden illness, which terminated fatally in three days. On the day preceding his death he had executed a will, (which had since bee;, duly proved by the deposition of the attest ing witness) containing a solemn req lest that his daughter, to whom he left Ile whole estate, should accept the hand of his nephew in marriage, coupled with a provision that in case the latter offered, and she refused within a specified period to enter into the proposed union, theentire estate devised to the daughter should be forfeited to the nephew. _ _ To sacrifice her fortune to her heart's choice would not have cost Julia Parson a moment's hesitation, and nothing could have more delighted George Dickson than so fair an opportunity of sowing how su perior his devotion was toall considerations of personal advantages. But her father's dyinc , b request, in Julia's eyes, was sacred. It had surprised and stunned her, as he had never gone beyond the most kindly re monstrance, and had never hinted at any thing like coercion. Young Parson had not the magnanimity to forego his ungenerous advantage. He might have been content with his cousin's fortune alone, but his right to that depend ed on his offer and her rejection of an al liance which she felt in conscience bound to accept. The brief season of grace, which she had been compelled to beg even with tears, had already almost passed, and a few days would witness the condemnation of two lives to hopeless misery. At the conclusion of my friend's narra tive, in which, for reasons that may here after be developed, I felt a peculiar inter est. I prevailed upon hint. to accompany me to a place of amu , einent, to which I had previously procured tickets. When we had reached the theatre the performance had begun, but we succeeded in finding seats which commanded a fair view of the stage and the audience. In a few moments George touched by elbow. PAMPHLETS, "Observe the gentleman nearly opposite, in front of the parquette, seated next the column, leaning his arm on his cane," he whispered. In looking in the direction indicated I saw a face whose striking resemblance to one I had seen before, caused me to start in surprise. "Who is it?" I asked. "Eldridge Parson," was the reply. "The young physician of whom we have been speaking ?" "The same," my friend answered. "Does he resemble his uncle ?" I was on the point of inquiring, but just then the stranger drew the glove from his right hand, and I saw that the first joint of the middle finger was wanting, which absorbed my attention. "Do you know the exact date of Mr. Paron's death ?" I asked, when we had gained the street at the close of the per formance. Bill and Joe. "Yes," said George, it was the 22d of December. His daughter received a tele gram from her cousin announcing the fact the same day. But why do you ask ?" "I have a reason which may or may not prove a good one." I returned, stating that I had business engagements for the whole day. I parted from my friend, promising to meet him on the following evening. Next afternoon found meat the Ace of Dr. Parson. "Dr. Parson, 1 presume ?" were the words with which I accosted the gentleman I had seen at the theatre. • "I ou may not remember me, Doctor, but I believe we have met before." "I beg pardon, sir, for not recollecting the occasion." "You were in New Orleans last winter, were you not ?" "I was," he answered with some embar rassment. "I am the gentlemen on whom you call. ed to draft a will." He turned pale, but said nothing in re ply._ . _ saw a record of that will in the Sur• rogate's office this morning," I resumed, "You speak of my uncle's will," he in terrupted. "And yet," I continued, "you said it was yours when you applied to have it written. You represented yourself as de ' sirous of executing such a document pre paratory to embarking on a perilous voy age. The paper was drawn in accordance with your instructions, the date to be filled in at the time of signing. Your locks were gray then, and you looked old enough to have a marriageable daughter. But your disguise was not perfect," and I point ed to his mutilated finger. "What do you mean?" he shouted in a defiant tone, springing to his feet. "Simply that your uncle's name to that paper is a forgery," I answered, confront ing him. "He died on the 23d of Decem ber. Your own telegram to that effect 1 in existence. It was on the 24th, the day before Christmas, that you called on me to prepare the paper now on record as his will. The inference is plain ; you under took the manufacture of this spurious tes tament after your uncle's death. Wishing to clothe your villainy in a legal form, you procured from me the required document. You, or some one at your instigation, sim ulated the signature of the deceed—the witnesses who have since perjured them selves, in some manner best known to your self and—" "Enough, sir, you have yourself possess ed of a secret, the custody of which may prove dangerous to you." "I am not unprepared for your threat," I replied. "In the first place I did not come unarmed, in the next place I have prepared a full statement of the facts to which I have alluded, with information be sideg cf my present visit to yourself. This paper will be delivered to a friend to whom it is directed, unless within an hour I re claim it from the messenger, who has been instructed for that length of time to retain it." His face grew livid. His frame quiv ered with mingled fear and rage. "What is your purpos. ?" he exclaimed. "To keep your secret while you live," I answered, "on one condition." "Name it." 'That you write instantly to Julia Par son, renouncing all pretensions to her hand, and absolutely withdrawing your proposal of marriage." After a moment's pause he seated him self at his desk and hastily penned a brief note, which he submitted to my inspection. It was quite satisfactory. "Be so good as to seal and address it," I said. He did so and handed it to me. "I will see it delivered," I said, putting it in my pocket and bowing myself out. When I met George Dickson that even ing. his old college look had come back.— He had great news to tell me. The next thing was to take me to see Julia, and it is needless to tell what a happy evening we spent together, and what a happy mar riage followed not long after. Eldridge Parson, I have just learned, joined one of the late Cuban expeditions, and was killed in a recent encounter with the Spaniards. If a man wishes to get rid of dyspepsia he must give his stomach and brains less to do. It will be of no service to him to follow any particular regimen—to live on chaff bread, or any such stuff—to weigh his food, etc., so long as the brain is in a constant state of excitement. Let that have proper rest, and the stomach will perform its functions. But if he pass fourteen or fifteen hours a day in his office or counting room, and take no exercise, his stomach will inevitably beCome paralyzed, and if he puts nothing into it but a cracker a day, it will not digest it. In many cases it is the brain that is the primary cause. Give that delicate organ some rest. Leave your bu siness behind you when you go to your home. Do not sit down to your dinner with your brows knit, and your mind ab sorbed in casting up interest accounts.— Never abridge the usual hours of sleep.— Take more or less exercise in the open air every day. Allow yourself some innocent recreation. Eat moderately, slowly, and of what you please, provided it be not the shovel and tongs. If any particular dish disagrees with you, however, never touch it, or look at it. Do not imagine that you must live on rye bread or oatmeal porridge; a reasonable quantity of nutritious food is essential to the mind as well as the body. Above all, banish all thoughts of the sub ject. If you have any treatises on dys pepsia, domestic medicine, etc., put them directly into the fire. If you are constantly talking and thinking about dyspepsia, you will surely have it. Endeavor to forget that you have a stomach. Keep a clear conscience • live temperately, regularly, cleanly ; be industrious, too, but be tem perate. - "WHEN a great man dies," says Quilp, "the first thing done is to resolve to build a monument to his memory, and the sec ond is—not to build it." OFall the passions, jealousy is that which exacts the hardest service, the bitterest wages. Its service is to watch the success of our enemy; its wages to be sure of it. HUNTINGDON, PA., MAY 10, 1871 "Yes, sir." potellantono. Good Advice to Dyspeptics. Make Home Beautiful. BY HESTER A. BENEDICT. Ah, yes ; it is an old, old text, preached from since the world began ! We are well aware of it ; and yet we repeat the words, feeling that they hold an infinitude of thought yet unexpressed; feeling, too, that there are many who, hav ing heard, have failed to heed them ; fail ed to make, because of them, a sweeter place to rest in, a fairer picture to feast the eyes upon, when the day's work is ended, and the little family is gathered in the sitting-room of the cottage, which though it may not boast its rose-wood and its velvet, may yet have a warm, sweet beauty of its own, equally satisfying and restful. We care not howsoever humble a home may be, how poor in pursa its inmates, nor how hard their daily toil, if there are four walls, and four, or even two willing hands, that home may bespeak a truer and more highly cultured taste than many an elegant mansion whose occupants have gold, but lack refinement. Show us the sitting or sleeping room of a woman and we will show you a pen pic ture of that woman's inner life. We will tell you her thoughts, her hopes, and her aspirations ; tell you how worthy she is, or unworthy, to hold the heart of her hus band and the honor of her children. We speak of wives of workingmen, not of those who purchas; the upholster's taste. as they purchase game for dinner ; and we speak of the inside of a home, which is woman's rightful dominion, not the outside, with which we may have somewhat to do hereafter. In the first place, there should be per fect harmony of colors in the furnishing of a room. If this be lacking, no room can be pleasing to the eye, or restful to the soul. If the prevailing color of the carpet be green, green damask for lounges, ottomans, lambrequin, etc., is just as cheap, and as easily obtained, as blue or rose-color, or crimson ; and gven-tinted vases, Inexpen sive, and tastefully arranged, matching nicely on either end the mantle, with a solid centre-piece, or upon brackets, either side picture, give one or more enjoyable feeling than if one sees here a short blue vase, and there a tall white one, neither in keeping with aught else in the room, if we expect the mistress, who may have a blonde face and hair, and yet be dressed in colors that no blonde of good taste would choose. Furniture and little articles of adorn ment, misplaced, though never so slightly; bureau drawers a little ajar; a slipper here or a hairpin there, give to a sleeping room a neglected air, that speak volumes of ex cuses for the husband's tardy coming; and rooms, redolent of everything but soap and water, are not apt to be a man's happiest remembrances. Now we know that some faces bending over these lines will grow cloudy ; and that some lips will say : "I wish whoever wrote that article had half a dozen chil dren, and her own work to do!" and we are not sure but it is a good, and kind wish, though it will not be spoken kindly. Sadder things may come to one in life than the realization of that very wish. Divinest content should come to a moth er with the coming of her children; and labor has a quiet, honest dignity of its own one should be proud to wear. How those little ones are nurtured, and in what man ner that labor is performed, determines the happiness and the beauty of a home. If children are allowed, simply because they are cold or hunry, to leave caps, books, gloves, etc., etc., lying promiscnos ly about in setting or dining-room instead of putting them in their places, home may be forever in confusion, and the mother wearied to death by what she terms, care, when half her onnoyance is the result of untidiness. Combs and brushes are left nncleaned upon chair and window-sill; towels thrown across the wash-pitcher or stand, instead of being folded evenly and', hung squarely upon the rack; water is left in the basin and the soap bowl, and bits of paper, shreds of linen, and crumbs of cake and pastry, and here and there, and every-', where, and one pair of hands cannot undo the ruin of six, cheerfully or patiently. The remedy for all this lies in a moth er's determination to have herself a place for everything, and in obliging herself and her children to keep everything in its place when not in immediate use. This may be done,, must be done, or home which is the synonym of all things pure and sweet to cherish, will Le but a prison-house where the spirits of unrest are chained.— Workingman. Economy in a Family. There is nothing which goes so far to wards placing the young people beyond the reach of poverty as economy in the management of household affairs. It mat ters not whether a man furnishes little or much for his family, if there is a continual leakage in his kitchen or parlor; it runs away, he knows not bow, and that demon Waste cries, "More !" like the horseleech'a daughter, until he that provided has no more to give. It is the husband's place to bring into the house, and it is the duty of the wife to see that none goes wrong fully out of it. A man gets a wife to look after his af fairs, and assist him in his journey through life; to educate and prepare their chil dren for a proper station in Life, and not to dissipate his property. The husband's in terest should be the wife's care, and her greatest ambition to carry her no further than his welfare or happiness, together with that of her children. This should be her sole aim, and the theatre of her ex ploits in the bosom of her family, where she may do as much towards making a for tune as he can in a counting house or work-shop. It is not the money earned that makes a man wealthy—it is what he saves from his earnings. Self gratification, in dress, or in appetite, or company than his purse can well entertain, are equally pernicious. The first adds vanity to extravagance, the second fastens a doctor's bill to a long butcher's account, and the latter brings intemperence, the worst of all evils. Copy Hook. A MICHIGAN woman found a live lizard in the heart of a potato, with no visable means of ingress, and has become insane in sn attempt to decide whether the pota to hatched the lizard from the seed, or the lizard grew the potato as a sort of overcoat. Ih who receives a good turn should never forget it; he who does one should never remember it. THREE things to admire—intellectual power, dignity and gracefulness. " Some People will give up to their Children." "William, stop that noise, I say !—won't you stop ? Stop, I tell you, or I'll slap your mouth." ' William bawls a little louder. "William, I tell you! If you don't stop I'll whip you, sure." William goes up a fifth and beats time with his heels. "I never saw such a child !—he's got temper enough for the whole town; I'm sure he didn't gait from me. Why don't you be still? Whist. Wh-i-s-t. Come, come, be still, won't you! Stop, stop, STOP, I say ! • Don't you see this—don't you see this stick ? See here now !" (Cuts the air with the stick.) William=more•furious, kicks very man fully at his mother—grown redder in the face, lets out the last note and begins to reel and shake, and twist in a most spite ful manner. "Come, William ! come dear—that's a darlinrranaughty William! come, thut's a good boy ; don't cry, p-o-o-r little fellow, ab-o-o-s-e you 'tall, eh ! Ma's 'itt,i2 man, won't. a piece of sooger ?. Ma's 'ittle boy got cramp; p-o-o-r 'ittle sick boy," &c. William wipes,up, and minds, and eats his sugar and stops. , AFTEE SCENE.—The minister is present. and very nice talk is going on upon the necessity of governing children. -"Too true," - says mamma, "some people will give up to their children, and it ruins them— every child should be governed. But then it won't do to carry it too far; if one whips all the time it will break a child's spirit. One ought to mia kindness and firmness together in managing children." "I think so," said the preacher; "firm ness first and then kindness." "Yes, sir; that's my practice exactly." An Alphabet for Society. A is an angel of blushing eighteen. B is the ball where the Wngel was seen. C is the Chaperone who cheated at cards. I) is the Duextemps, with Frank of the guards. E is the eye which those soft lashes cover. F is the fan it peeped wickedly over. G is the Glove of superlative kid. II is the Hand which it spitefully hid. I is the ice which the fair one demanded. J is the Juvenile who hurried to hand K is the Kerchief, a rare work of art. C is the Lace which composed the chief part. M is the old Maid who watched the girls dance. N is the Nose she turned up at each glance. 0 is the Ogle, just then in its prime. P is the Partner who wouldn't keep time. Q's a Quadrille put instead of the Lan cers. R is the Remonstrances made by the dancers. • S is the Supper, where all went in pairs. T is the Twaddle they talked on the stairs. U is the Uncle who "thought we'd be going." V is the Voice which the neice applied "no" in. W is the Waiter who sat up till eight. X is the exit not perfectly straight. Y is the )awning fit canned by the ball. Z stands for Zero, or nothing at all. Strength of character consists in two things—power of will and power of self-. restraint It requires two things, there fore, for its existence—strong feelings and strong command over them. Now, it is here we make a grand mistake; we mis take strong character. A man who dares all before him, and before whoes frown do mestics tremble, and whoes bursts of fury make the children of his household quake— because he has his will obeyed, and his own way in all things, we call him a strong man. The truth is he is a weak man. It is his passions that are strong; he that is mastered by them is weak. You must measure a man by his strength of the pas sions he subdues, and not by the power of those which subdue him. And hence com posure is very often the highest result of strength. Did we ever see a man receive a flagrant insult, and only grow a little pale, and then reply quietly? That is a man spiritually strong. Or did he never see a man in anguish stand as if carved out of solid rock, mastering himself? Or one that bearing a hopeless daily trial, remains silent, and never tells the world what cankers his home peace ? That is strength. ' He who, with strong passions, remains chaste; he who, keenly sensative, with many hours of indignation in him, can be provoked and yet restrain himself and for give, those are strong men, and spiritual heroes. A BOY who had been told never to ask for anything to eat away from home, went into a neighbor's house when the lady hap pened to be frying doughnuts. -0, you are cooking," said he. Aware that he had been well trained, and anxious to see whether his appetite would get the better of his manners, the lady did not give him any of the dough nuts. "Well," said he, returning to the charge, "your cakes look nice." "0, very nice," said the lady; '•they are the best I ever baked." After playing with the cat a few min utes he remarked, "and they smell very nice." O, yes, they smell very nice," was the tantalizing answer. "Well," said the boy, "I suppose if any little child that was hungry should come in here when you are cooking, you would give him something to eat ?" "Well, yes, I think I should." "Then," said he, after another turn with the cat, "I guess I must go home for I am very hungry." It is needless to add that he got a dough nut. A DEPUTY sheriff in Keene, New Hamp shire, had a habit, when anything occurred to him which he had forgotten to start off quickly raising his right hand with the fore finger extended, and prefacing his remarks with the exclamation: "By the way." It being once his dutyas crier to give no tice of the opening of the court, he began: "Hear ye ! all persons having anything to do before the Court of Common Pleas, draw. nigh, give your attention, and ye shall be heard." Here be sat down, but remembering that he had forgotten the finishing touches, in stantly rose and exclaimed : "By the way, God save the State of New Hampshire !" Bridesmaids. Next to being a bride herself, every young lady likes to be a bridesmaid. Wed lock is thought by a large proportion of the blooming sex to be contagious, and much to the credit of their courage, fair spinsters are not at all afraid of catching it. So far as official conduct is concerned, * when you have seen one bridesmaid, you have seen the whole fascinating tribe. Their leading duty seems to be to treat the bride as " victim led with garlands to the sacrifice." They consider it necessary to exhort her to " cheer up. Her fair assistants provide themselves with pun gent essences lest she should faint at the "trying moment," which, between you and me, she has no more idea of doing than she has of dying. It is true she sometimes tells them she " feels as if she should sink into the earth," and that they respond, " poor dear !" and apply the smelling-bottle; but she nevertheless goes through her nuptial martyrdomwith great fortitude. In nine cases out of ten the bridegroom is more "flustered" than the fragile and lovely creature at his side; but nobody thinks of pitying him, poor fellow! If one of the groomsmen does recommend him to take a glass of wine before the cere mony, "to steady his nerves," and advice is given superciliously, as who should say : "What a spoony you are, old fellow !" Bridesmaids may lie considered a brides in what lawyers call " inchoate" or incipient state. They are looking forward to that day of triumphant weakness when it shall be their turn to be "poor dear creatured," and other else sustained and supported as the law of nuptial pretences directs. Let us hope they may not be disappointed. Tit-Bits, Takeu an the Fly, James Gorden Ben nett, of the New York Herald, is said to have a fortune of 810, 000,000. Humphery Marshall, of Kentucky, now weighs about 400 pounds, and is very ac tive and a hard worker. Gen. Grant's next visit will be to Mas sachusetts, to attend the anniversary ofthe Army of the Potomac, in Boston, on the 12th of May. Franklin and Marshall proposes, if $5O 000 are raised towards its endowment fund by Lancaster county, to open the college doors free to any boy in the county. Mr. Mackey, Treasurer elect. has ap pointed Hon. Thomas Nicholson, of Beavcr, Cashier of the Treasury, the position held by him under Mr. Mackey two years ago. Traill Green, M. D.,of Northampton coun ty, Jno. L. Atlee, M. D., of Lancaster coun ty, and 1). W. Gross, of Dauphin county, have been appointed trustees of the Penn sylvania Lunatic Hospital at Harrisburg for a term of three years each. A Terrible outrage has just been per petrated in Chesterfield county, South Car olina. Robert Melton, delinquent tax col lector, his wife and daughter were shot in their own door by a party of disguised men. The daughter only remains alive. It is stated that the decision of the Su preme Court at 'Wallington as to the con stitutionality of the legal tender acts will be delivered about the first of Sept. It is belived that the decision will sustain the constitutionality of the law. Philadelphia has four thousand one hundred and fifty nine licensed drinking saloons, and the number of unlicensed is over three thousand. According to this showing there is in that city one rum shop to about every one hundred of the popula tion. The portraits of Mr. Darwin represent him as a big-browed man, with a foul beard, a healthy neck, au intelligent eye, and a very practical kind of expression—as if he were a railroad conductor. There is some thing in his side face a little like Socrates and Theodore Parker. He bears no trace of a Simian anchestry. A son of John Tyler has taken part in the recent war in Europe as a Uhlan in the Twelfth army corps of Saxony. At the breaking out of the war he was a student at Freilberg. He distinguished himself in several actions. A son of John Y. Mason, of Virginia, also distinguished himself in the French army. The indications from the coal country are more encouraging— we may say really bright. There is apparent, on the part of the miners, a disposition to accept the terms lately offered by the operators, and in sev eral districts they have already been favor ably considered. In the compromise the Trades Unions appear to be discarded, and the miners are acting for themselves. Troughs for supplying Locomotives with water while in motion have been laid on the Pennsylvania Central railroad, one at Derry and another near Johnstown. The troughs are 18 inches wide, 6 inches deep, and 1.500 feet long. The scoop let down from the locomotive will take up to quantity of 2,200 gallons of water from each trough. The new Assistant Secretary of the In terior, General Benjamin R. Cowan, is a native of Ohio a man who has held several important positions of trust in the State, did good service during the war, and for some time past has occupied the responsi ble office of Internal Revenue Supervisor for Ohio. We believe he will make a good officer. Mr. Thomas A. Scott was recently elec ted president of the Shenandoah Railroad at a meeting of directors held at Charles town, Va. The Shenandoah road extends from Harper's Ferry to Salem, Va., a dis tance of two hundred and thirty miels, a and forms an important link of the great Southern line from Philadelphia and New York to New Orleans. The English members of the Joint High Commission have finally received imforma tion from their government that it approves the terms of the settlement of all dis puted points before the commission. They will now proceed to draft treaties to be submitted to both governments. There is some talk among leading Senators here of opposition to what is understood to be the terms agreed upon about the Alabama and fishery questions. William M. Tweed is now believed to be the third man, in point of wealth, in the United States, be having boasted to several persons that he was worth nearer $20,000,- 000 than $15,000,000. In 1861 he was in the city of Washington, and, on inquiry by some friend there, he stated that he had got together $20,000,000, and, he added, that he meant to keep it; for, as you may know, Tweed and his brother, who were in 'business, failed a few years before the war, and Tweed took the benefit of the bankrupt act. He made his money as chief Tammany manager. NO. 19. ghe goon Circle. Bed-Time. Baby faces clean and bright, Little figures robed in white, Voices lisping forth "good night." Golden tinted, well brushed hair, Shading foreheads smooth and-fair, Folded fingers, infant prayer. Eyelids drooped o'er sleepy eyes, As the midnight hides the skies, Veiling all their azure dyes. Bright young heads laid down to rest On the snowy pillow's breast, As sinks the day-king in the west Upon some pearly cloudlet's crest. Childish voices mute and still, Hushed in sleep as mountain rill Bound in ice bands, bright, but chill. Children slumbering, free from dread, Mother praying by the bed, Angels watching overhead. Evening's solemn, silver chime, Like some fairy's magic rhyme, Meting out the flight of time. And a Father's eye above, Viewing all with look of love. Human Flowers. Humanity (like the inanimate world) possesses flowers and weeds. The first are gifted with superior beauty, for they par take of divinity. The weeds engender more poison and cause more pain, because they arc the attributes of the "Evil One." Among these "human flowers" which we see blooming around us, are love, virtue, content and generosity; and as I look around me, I am struck with the beauty of an infant—its blue eyes shyly peeping, like modest violets, from their shady dell, scanning the proud rose, and the wavering flaxen ringlets pursuing their curling will with playful dalliance around its childish features; its prattling tongue be speaks its innocence and mirth'. Surely, a sweeter flower never bloomed than this I No earthly flower can vie in beauty - or erect its head in such comely grace—it is the pet rose of the household's love, the lily of domestic purity, the opening petal inhaling the genial dews of Divinity. Ah, how precious is this little bud of human ity! While the sun of life and health beams its kindly smile upon its fair form it grows, it blooms, and blooms the brighter as it higher grows, kindling the parent's heart with a fire of love and joy, while kindly cultivation points the road to man hood. But should stern death demand this smiling prize, how great the change ! The heart bereaved, once joyous, becomes desolate, and droops and pines beneath af fliction's drouth Yes, these are the flow= ers of heaven's first planting. The pur est and the best, sent to console us when melancholy, and bids us hope for things to come, to show us sweet simplicity, and to re mind us of our love, happiness, and peace. These flowers in life's pathway require, like other precious plants, steady, kind, and tender cultivation. Weeds will spring up in every soil, and when we perceive these little natural weeds springing from amidst these flowers of duns, they require a gentle but earnest uprooting; not hastily, or you may spoil the flower that you wish to save. When showers of passionate rain beat down their little beds, take them under your sheltering care, and dry their tears by returning some of the hope to them that they have given to you. These flowers, too, are very profuse bloomers. They look the fairer when in infant sport. They bound and dance around beneath the smiling sun of home, when all is gleeful happiness, and watchful gardners shield them from the storm. But, like all earth's beauties, they must fade and pass away. They germinate on earth; increase in youth ; live their short life of blooming sweetness; shed their tears, and die to generate again in soil celestial. It is when we see the shadow gently falling on its drooping head that we must highly prize the treasure of an intuit dead. We all have hearts; and these hearts of ours are gardens, whose soil requires a steadfast cultivation, and if we turn them over with the spade of conscience; eradicate the weeds with the hoe of determination, and sow the seeds of religion broad-east over their whole surface, we shall then have such a harvest of precious flowers that their heavenly foliage will not allow the growth, though it cannot stop the germi nation of poisonous human weeds. Cash to Go On With. A Liverpool merchant met an acquain tance one day in the market, and knowing him to be a man of immoral life, began to urge him, as he had done before, to come to the Saviour. The other stopped him by saying, "It's no use trying to make mo a Christian. If I were one to-day, I should go back again to-morrow. You know how I'm living, and I've got no power now to break my habits and be different." Our friend then saw that he did not under stand the gospel at all, though he fancied he did, and he asked him, "If you, as a merchant here in Liverpool, were to be come unfortunate, fail in business, and get into debt, what sort of a friend would you want to help you "Why, I should like one that would pay my debts," he said. "So you would, at once; but would that be enough ? Would that put you back where you were before ?" "No," he said, after a moment's thought, "I should want him to give me cash to go on with, besides." "And that's just what Jesus Christ would do for you," said the Christian ; "he doesn't only pay our debts; he gives us cash to go on with, too." Truth. Truth is God's baptism on the hills. First, it is like dew-drops silently descend ing through a cloud of mist and vapor to kiss the petals of some drooping flower. Then it is a little pool, gathered in some tiny basin in a fraternal embrace of atoms. Then it is a rill, that goes cutting its channel through the green moss, and down the sloping hillside hastening to the meet ing of the water below. Then it is a steam, hurrying over precipices and down cascade rocks, turning the great wheel of manu facture, grinding the grain and working the spindles and shuttles of man. Then it is the river, slowly rolling onward through the mighty channel, upon which great barges rock, and the paddles of the steam boat beat. And then—then it is the broad sweep of the ocean, on which it is born from land to land, the products of the in dustry of the entire world. And that's the way truth comes, and that's the way truth acts. TRUE RELIGION.—Lamps do not talk, they simply shine. A lighthouse sounds no drum, it beats no gong, and yet far over the water its friendly spark is seen by the mariner. So should it be proclaimed and made known by its quiet works rather than by loud or frequent protestations.
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