TOL. 46. 3 Huntingdon Journal. J. A. NASII, DURBORROW, PUBLISHLRS •QD PROPRIETORS. on the Corner of Bath and Washington etreete. I HUNTINGDON Jouusxx is published every esday, by J. R. DURBORROW and J. A. NAsa, the firm name of J. R. DURDORROW & Co., at per annum, IN ADVANCE, or $2,50 if not paid six months from date of subscription, and sot paid within the year. paper discontinued, unless at the option of lbfishers, until all arrearages are paid. VERTISEMENTS will be inserted at Tim per line for each of the. first four insertions, avz cam's per line for each subsequent inner tss than three months. :elm. monthly and yearly advertisements will erted at the following rates 3 m1 6 m1 9 m1 1 7 6zn I 9 in 1y 4 8 00" 0 10 5 01 ° 2 00 i. 14 ' 124 0 0136 1' °O 4O 5 27 01 $ 65 36 10 00114 00i18 00 9i, " 34 00 5000 65 SO 14 00,20 00 24 00 18 00125 00 30 00 1 col 36 00 60 00 80 100 cial notices will be inserted at TWELVE AND r costs per line, and local and editorial no a FIFTEEN CENTS per line. Resolutions of Associations, Communications ited or individual interest, and notices of Mar aud Death's, exceeding five lines, will be al TEN CENTS per line. al and other notices will be charged to the having them inserted. •ertising Agents must find their commission .e of these figures. advertising accounts are due and collectable he advertisement is once inserted. 3 PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and Colors, done with neatness and diepatch.- -bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every y and style, printed at the shortest notice, eery thing in the Printing line will be execu the most artistic manner and at the lowest Professional Cards. A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law, . Office, 321 Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa. [may3l,7l. R. J. C. FLEMMING respectfully offers his professional services to the citizens ntingdon and vicinity. Office second door of ngham's building, on corner of 4th and Hill may 24. . C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law • Office, No. —, Hill street, Huntingdon, [tip.l9,'7l. "ITALLAM 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. [apl9,'7l. ILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at • Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly legal businem. Office in Cunningham'. new ng. U5p.4,11. R. G. D. ARNOLD, Graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, corers his pro nal services to the people of Huntingdon and ty. FERENCE :-Dr. B. P. Hook,of Loysrille, Pa., .vhom he formerly practiced; Drs. Stine an/ tv of Philadelphia. ce on Washington street, West Huntingdon, [ap.19,'71. AEON MILLER. B. ■UCMARAA. "ILLER & BUCHANAN, DENTISTS, 228 Hill Street, HUNTINGDON, PA. ril 5, 71-Iy. DENGATE, Surveyor, Warriors mark, P. [apl2,'7l. CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law, •No. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied mm. Woods & Williamson. (ap12,'71... L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T: • Brt ivies new building, Nu., 520, Hill St., ingdon, Pa. [apl2,'7l. R. R. R. WIESTLING, respectfully offers his professional services 3 citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity. ce removed to No. 6184 - Hill street, (Sutra's onta.) ' [apr.s,'7l-Iy. R. DURBORROW,... Attorney-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practice in the al Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular tion given to the settlement of estates of dem- lee in he JOURNAL Building. Ifeb.l,'7l - GLAZIER, Notary Public, corner -• of Washington and Smith streets, lion 3n, Pa. [jan.l2'7l. ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at -• Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention I to COLLECTIONS of all kinds ; to the settle of Estates, &c.; and all other Legal Business euted with fidelity and dispatch. Er. Office in room latelyocCupied by R. Milton r, Esq. Dan.4,'7l. W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun • tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sowell Stewart, Dan. 4,11. HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office, second floor of er's new building, Hill street: [jan.4,'7l. M. & M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys • at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend to inds of legal business entrusted to their care. ice on the south side of Hill street, fourth door of Smith. [jan.4,'7l. SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at . Low, Huntingdon, Po. Office, Hill street, t doors west of Smith. [jan.4'7l. A. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real s Estate Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend irveying in all its branches. Will also buy, or rent Farms, Houses, and Real Estate of ev cind, in any part of the United States. Send . circular. [jan.4'7l. R. J. A. DEAVER, having located ' at Franklinville, offers his professional ser a to the community. fjan.4,ll. W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law • and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., i.e. , .rims again.* the Government for back bounty, widow? and invalid peneione attend ) with great care and promptness. nee on Hill street. rian.4,'7l. SCOTT. S. T. BROWS. J. N. BAILEY COTT, BROWN & BATLEY, At- torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions, all elaims of soldier. and soldiers' heirs against Government will be promptly prosecuted. ffice on Hill street. [jan.4,'7l. IR. D. P. MILLER, Office on Hill street, in the room formerly occupied by John M'Culloch, Huntingdon, Pa., would res fully offer his professional services to the cid ; of Huntingdon and vicinity. Dan.4,'7l. R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth • scary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun 'doe, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded. e Liquors for Medicinal purposes. (n0v.23,70. IR. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. Sine on Washington street, one door east of the holic Parsonage. Dan. 4,71. Office re kg, Hill street [jan.4,'7l. ' J. GREENE, Dentist. a• moved to Leister's new buildinl itingdon. Miscellaneous. )OBT. KING, Merchant Taylor, 412 il , Washington street, lluntingdon, Pa., a lib- I share of patronage respectfully solicited. ,pril 124 1871. TEAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT, COR. WAYNE and JUNIATA STREETT UNITED STATES HOTEL, HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA I!LAIN & CO., PROPRIETORS 'XCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon, A Pa. JOHN 8. MILLER, Proprietor. lottery 4, 1871. The Huntin g don Journal. flit Pon' !own. [Written for the JOURNAL.] God's Love. BY GIPSY WILDE. A marvellous thing I This love of His, that led my way Through pain and anguish, mist and tears, Through gloom of night and clouded day, These many years. Most wonderful! Even when the Sun had set, Nor light of Moon nor Stars did come In all these years, His mercy yet Hath led me home. I count it strange I That e'en while the dark and stealthy trail Of grim Despair, wound in and out The path of Hope, and all did fail— His love did not. Amazing love I E'en when the dark-browed hosts of Wrong, Rad crossed the highway of Right, Out of the warring, and chaos and gloom, Saved by His might. And more than this! When Duty pelted hard and long, Deaf to the heart's wild yearning; And suffering, endurance, and sacrifice, Into the soul burning Furrows of doubt and defiance, And darker rebellion, that shames to ask For a casual crumb, and scorning reliance On God and Heaven, take to 1 fe The bootlesti task Of hating the Greatness That giveth the power to be; Despising the kindness of Him, who sayeth "Come unto me I" Indeed a miracle! The tide of scorn sent up to Heaven Was beaten back, by the love and might Of Him—who pitying darkness—said "Let there be light!" And now from under the iron hoof Of human blindness, I lift my head ; The nails may have torn the quivering flesh, The wound may sometimes bleed afresh, But Doubt is dead. f °WWI. ADDRESS Of the Republican State Committee of Pennsylvania. The Republican party, appealing once more to the people of the State for their support, points with just pride to its re cord, and it fearlessly claims the renewed confidence of the people because it has been faithful to its trust, and is committed to the only line of policy that can secure con tinued prosperity to the State and Nation. The Republicans of this State first car ried both branches of the legislature in 1859, and first elected a Governor in 1860. Since then it has held control of the legis lative and executive branches of the Gov ernment until last winter, when the Dem ocrats obtained control, temporarily of the Senate. In 1861, when Gov. Curtin come into office, the State Debt, in round numbers, was $40,000,000. Shortly afterwards the Southern Rebellion broke out, and the State was compelled to borrow $3,500,000, to arm the troops and protect our borders, thus adding that much to the State Debt. In the ten years that have since passed away, this war loan of $3,500,000 has been paid off ; the State Debt has been re duced from $40,000,000 to a little over $29,000,000 ; the three mill tax which was levied far State purposes on real es tate prior to 1861 has been repealed; the tax on professions and occupations has been taken off; the annual contribution of the State to the Public Schools has been greatly enlarged ; a system of schools has been built up for the education and sup port of the orphans of soldiers who died in war—a noble benefaction, costing over a million yearly; and the affairs of the State, generally, have been so managed as to se cure prosperity to the people. The Republicans of the nation elected their' Presidential candidate in 1860, and succeeded, against many angry threats from the opposition, in putting him into office in March 1861. Almost immediately af terwards the government was confronted by an armed rebellion in the South, (openly as well as secretly encouraged by many Democrats in the North, whose sympathies still remain with those who took arms to overthrow the government,) and was com pelled to maintain the honor'of the nation al flag and the integrity of the country at whatever cost; and the four years' war which followed necessarily entailed a heavy debt and burdensome taxation upon the people. Since the suppression of the rebellion, the country has not only returned to peace but to prosperity. The fears of many that the nation would be bankrupt, her -indus try paralyzed, and her people ruined, have not been realized. No people ever recov ered so soon, so steadily and so surely, from the consequences of war, as we have done; and for this recovery from the des tructive influences of civil strife we are mainly indebted to the fostering hand held out by the national government to the in dustries of the people. Among the necessities growing out of the Rebellion the National Government found itself compelled to submit to the States for their ratification, three amend ments to the Constitution—one (known as the thirteenth) abolishing slavery; another, (the fourteenth,) securing the rights of citizens to the enfranchised slaves, and prohibiting the repudiation of any part of the National Debt, or the payment of any part of the Rebel Debt; and another (the fifteenth,) prohibiting the States from ex- eluding any one from the right of suffrage on account of race, color, or previous con dition of servitude. These three amendments having all been duly ratified in the method pointed out by the Constitution, are now component parts of that instrument. Their adoption stands as the grandest peaceful achievement of ancient or modern times. No party ever before undertook so great a task ; and its accomplishment, in so short a space of time, is a work of which the Republican party may well feel proud. To secure the complete protection of there emancipated and enfranchised people is now one of the unquestioned duties of the nation ; and no party is so fit to be en trusted with that duty as the party which has done the preliminary work. The party which has hitherto continuously resisted the policy thus established, is not the one, now, to carry it out. During the war for suppressing the Rebellion, and in carrying out the great measures which have necessarily flowed from it, the Democratic party has contin uously been in the opposition. It oppos ed the adoption of stringent measures to put down the Rebellion; the levying of troops to suppress it ; the borrowing of money to pay the coat of the war; the Emancipation Proclamation of President Lincoln.; the adoption of all the amend ments to the Constitution; the recon struction measures by which the revolted Mab 15-tf States were brought back into the Union; and generally, every measure necessary to the successful prosecution of the war, or to the successful restoration of peace. At present, too, it is opposed to the means necessary for raising revenue to pay the interest on the public debt, and secure its steady reduction ; is in favor of a semi-repudiation of that debt by paying it in a depreciated currency; if paid at all; is watching for an opportunity to an nul the new amendments to the Constitu tion; and is generally committed to any line of policy which will remit the country to its condition prior to 1860. It may be urged, here, that the Demo cratic party of this State, in the ninth res olution of the platform adopted by its late State Convention, has acquiesced in the adoption of the amendments of the Con stitution we have referred to, and cannot be now charged with hostility to them. We answer that the acquiescence express ed in that resolution has not, itself, been acquiesced in by the rank and file of the party. Over one-third of the Convention voted strenuously against it, and the ac tion of the Convention has since been re pudiated by many leading men and journ als of the party. Besides, whatever acqui escence-has been given, has been given sullenly and not heartily—as a matter of policy, springing from party necessity, and not from a conviction of its propriety. Wherever a vote has been honestly given, or sincerely raised for this "New Depar ture," it may very properly be regarded as an extorted confession that the Republi can party has all along been right in what the Democratic party has steadily opposed; and this confessed, what need is there, or can there be, for the further existence of the Democratic party When Gen. kraut came into office in 1869, he announced his determination to secure the honest and filithful collection of the revenue, the steady reduction of the public debt, and such an abatement in tax ation as was consistent with this policy. In the space of little over two years this determination. faithfully adhered to, has resulted in paying off $230,000,000 of the public debt, and in the abolition of nearly all the taxes imposed under previous laws. In addition to this he has, by his wise and firm foreign policy, suc ceeded in settling all our outstand ing difficulties with Great Britain, in a manner alike honorable and advan tageous to us as a people. The treaty, lately ratified by both nations, which re moves all causes of quarrel, and establishes peace and amity between them, has com manded the admiration of the civilized world, and placed the United States in the foremost rank among the nations of the earth. This result is one of which every American may justly feel proud. To continue the Republican party in power is to continue the policy begun, both in the State and Nation, of maintaining the public credit, paying off our debt, re ducing taxation, settling international dif ficulties without blood shed, and sustaining the great principles involved in the meas ures necessarily growing out of the war. To restore the Democratic party to pow er is to destroy the public credit, pave the way for repudiation, bring in the old tide of corruption, mismanagement and extrav agance, and open up anew all the questions involved in the reconstruction of the south ern States, now settled upon an honorable basis. For present proof of this we refer to the consequences flowing from the accidental majority of the Democrats in the State Senate last winter. To that fact we owe a session prolonged to the middle of May, at an extra cost of $lOO,OOO ; the re-estab lishment of the forsaken policy of employ ing extra (and useless) officers in the Leg islative bodies and granting them extra pay; an appropriation bill increased be yond all former bounds, to the extent of half a million ; the defeat of all measures for calling a Constitutional Convention at an early day to put an end to that curse of our State, SPECIAL LEGISLATION ; and, as if determined to show that this curse should not be removed by their aid, the enactment of the enormous number of 1800 local bills. And this is but a tithe of what we should have had to endure had they had both Houses and the Governor on their side. A still further proof of the unfitness of that party to be entrusted with power. is to be found in the melancholy history of the late riots in New York. In that city the Democrats have undisputed sway, and, through it, in the State. They had the power in their hands to prevent this riot and bloodshed, but they would not use it either at the right time or in the right way. Why? Because the party is pos sessed of no principle which can lead it to respect the rights of man, be they civil or religious. Its sole idea of rights is de rived from the maxim that MIGHT makes RIGHT. This was clearly evinced in the debate in our State Senate, in 1869, on the Fifteenth Amendment, in which the Democratic leader in the State scouted the claim that there were any such ,things as human rights. The idea, he said, was a myth and a humbug. _ _ - And this sentiment of the Democratic leader in Pennsylvania has been carried out to the letter in New York. A few thousand men, in the exercise of their Constitutional right to assemble together, inform the authorities of their purpose to parade the streets on a certain day. An other body of men, who always vote the Democratic ticket, and numbering many more thousands, notify the authorities that this parade must not be permitted, and that if it is, they will attack it and dis perse it, no matter at what cost of life or limb to the party attacked. The Demo cratic rulers of New York at once decline to defend the few against the many in the exercise of their Constitutional right; deny that there is any such right; yield to the defiance of the mob, because it has might on its side, and, at the demand of that mob, forbid the peaceable and law-abiding citizens to assemble together, as the Con stitution permits, or to exercise the rights which the law allows. It is true that at the last hour, when the public indignation had been aroused at this base abandonment of the civil rights of the people, the State authorities stepped in and permitted what the city authorities had previously forbidden ; but the mob had already triumphed too far to yield peace fully to this sudden change, and the slaugh ter which followed is attributable solely to the official cowardice which first yield ed to a mob it was afterwards unable to control. It is plain, moreover, that the first act, of prohibiting the parade, was the legiti mate outgrowth of the principles controll ing the Democratic party. that MIOHT alone gives RIGHT. It brought into view the ferocious claws which, though after wards withdrawn, the furred foot could not wholly conceal. It was a clear indica tion of what we may expect throughout HUNTINGDON, PA., AUGUST 2, 1871 the country should the Democrat party ever returu to power. If our civil and religious rights are to be preserved in this country against the attacks of turbulent mobs and the demands of a wild fanaticism they can be preserved only by the party based immovably on a deep regard for Human Rights and Con stitutional guarantees ; and in the light of these facts we appeal to the people of Penn sylvania to rally to the support of their imperilled Constitutional franchises, and by the defeat of the Democratic party, which has proven itself alike unwilling and unable to uphold them, teach it that the people will bear no yielding to mob vio lence nor tampering with their constitu tional rights, and will never permit the surrender of the citadel they have erected at a bloody coat sacred, now and forever, to CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. RUSSELL ERRETT, Ch'uian. EZRA LUKENS, D. F. HOUSTON, Secretaries. P. N. LYTLE, , T.olttro' p* t, The Force of Imagination. Buckland, the distinguished geologist one day gave a dinner, after dissecting a Mississippi alligator, having asked a good many of the most distinguished of his classes to dine with him. His house and all his establishment were in good style and taste. His guests congregated. The dinner-table looked splendidly with glass china and plate, and the meal commenced with excellent soup. "How do you like the soup ?" asked the Doctor, after having finished his own plate addressing a famous gournmad of the day. "Very good, indeed," answered the other; "turtle, is it not ? I only ask be cause Ido not find any green fat." The doctor shook his head. "I think it has somewhat of a musky taste," says another; "not unpleasant, but peculiar." "Alligators have," replied Buckland," the cayman peculiarly so. The fellow I dissected this morning, and which you have just been eating—" There was a general rout of guests ; every one turned pale. Half a dozen started from the table ; two or three ran out of the room, and only those who had stout stomachs remained to the close of an excellent entertainment. "See what imagination is" said Buck land. "If I had told them it was turtle, or terrapin, or bird's-nest soup, salt water amphibia, or fresh, or the gluten of fish from the maw of a sea-bird, they would have pronounced it excellent, and their digestion would have been none the worse. Such is prejudice." "But was it really an alligator ?" asked a lady. "As good a crtlf's head as ever wore a coronet," answered Buckland. What's in a Name ? In an Eastern town there is a woman who is exceedingly deaf, and her affliction Lau caused sin azt”,,,,01,,4 take, of which her infant child is the vie= tim. She took the baby to church the other day to have him baptized. While she was waiting in the vestibule, she thought she would keep him quietby feed ing him from a bottle of milk. While the youngster was taking his nourishment, the mother was summoned to the church by the announcment that the minister was ready. In her agitation she drew the bot tle from the child's mouth hurriedly, when the gum nozzle came off, and some milk was spilled on the child's new clothes. When the clergyman took the child in his arms, he looked down upon it, and asked the mother what name should be given it. She, having her mind troubled about the accident, thought he was asking how the clothes were soiled, so she answered : "Nozzle came off." Rather surprised, he asked again for the name, and then thinking he did not under stand her, she bawled out: "Nozzle came off, I say." Whereup)n the astonished divine pour ed water over the child's head, saying : "Nozzle-came•off Furgeson, I baptize thee," &c. What this woman wants to know, is whether the Legislature, or something, cannot change that child's name to Henry, or Lucullus, or William, or some other euphonious appellation. AN Englishman, employed in a family living in Cleveland, while dusting in the library, accidentally knocked over aplaster bust of Washington, which, falling on the floor was broken into a thousand pieces. Shortly after, one of the members of the family found the servant seated in the midst of the fragments and crying bitterly, whereupon the following conversation en sued : `John, what is the matter?' '0 ! I haccidentally knocked hover this bust while dusting, hand hit's hall broken to pieces,' said John. 'Well never mind, it didn't cost much.' 'Hit hisa't the cost him thinking hoff, but, the disrespect to the man.' A THIRSTY gent enters the bar-room of a first-class hotel early in the day : 'Landlord, I guess I've gotsense enough to take a drink this morning.' Obsequious bar-tender furnishes the de sired beverage, and the thirsty gent smiles, smacks his lips, and remarks : 'Well, old top, that's prime, but I'm cussed if I've got cents enough to pay for it.' A LADY had a custom of saying to a favo rite little dog, to make him follow her. "Come along, sir." A would-be-wit stepped up to her one day, and accosted her with, "Is it me, madam, you called?" "Oh, no. sir." said the lady, "it was another puppy I spoke to." SAID a pompous husband, whose wife had stolen up behind him and given him a kiss, "Madam, I consider such an act indecorous !" "Excuse me," said the wife, "I didn't know it was you.", A YOUNG lady, while walking with a gentleman, stumbled, and when her com panion, to prevent her falling, grasped her hand somewhat tightly, she simpered, "Oh, sir, if it conies to that, you must ask my "Win' do you drive such a pitiful look ing carcass as that? Why don't you put a heavier coat of flesh on him, Pat ?" "A heavier coat of flesh on him ? By the powers, the poor creature can hardly carry what little there is on him now !" How to make a hotbed—set the mat tresses on fire. -J; istellantoo. Beginning at the Right End All Greenville knew that Will Norton and Kate Jedley were going to marry. In deed the parties interested made no secret of the matter; for months piles of snowy linen had been steadily growing beneath Kate's nimble fingers, and as fiir Will, he was equally busy. And for the marvel, most people seemed to be satisfied and agreed in saying what a good match it was, and what a fine couple they would make. Kate was so neat and industrious; not strictly beautiful, but with a natural loveliness that youth, health and a sweet temper gives to every woman. And Will was a steady, sensible young man, with a stout heart and broad shoulders, with which to push his way into the world. They had brought unto this mutual partnership, together with the wealth of loving hearts, and strong, helpful hands, a little of worldly gear. Will's consisted of a new and pretty cottage, every stick of which was laid with his own hands—for he was a house-carpenter—and every room constructed with an eye to the comfort and convenience of its expected mistress. Kate's dowry consisted of a few hundred dollars left her by an uncle, which was to be hers at the age of eighteen, or to the day of her marriage. Kate thought the best use to put the money to would be to furnish the house, and go at once to housekeeping, and Will agreed with her. _ _ Then came the all-important subject of selections, for Kate 11:.0 only a certain amount, and was anxious to lay it out to best advantage. She had neither mother nor sister, but fortunately, Aunt Sarah, a kind-hearted, sensible woman with no lit tle experience in such matters, was ou her annual visit to her brother's house, and she determined to avail herself of her counsel and assistance. The old lady had been but a few days in the house, but her sharp, kindly eyes had been sufficiently observing; so she was nut ut all surprised when her neje° said, with a slight blush : "I am going to be married next month, aunty." "So I judge, from the appearance of things, my dear. And, unless my old eyes deceive me, you will have a goodhusband." . . "Will is one of the best iand kindest of men," returned Kate, with a pleasant and happy smile. "I only wish he was sure of gettinc , ' a good wife. You know the money Uncle Eli left me. Will has b , .ilt a beau tiful little cottage, and I think of furnish ing it. so that we can go to house-keeping directly. And, as I shall have to buy a great many things, I should like your ad vice in selecting and arranging them." "I think yoir plan a very good one, Deice, and shall be glad to give you any assistance in my power. It will be less expensive than boarding, besides being so much pleasanter." The next day Bate showed her aunt over the house, which had just been paint. ed, papered and blinded. The ground floor contained four rooms—parlor , sit tin ..-room and above were -I:4.lbm_smd the chambars. They looked verypleasaut and convenient, and Aunt Sarah duly admired them, to Kate's great satisfaction. "I shall have enough to furnish it very nicely," she said, "and shall take so much pleasure iu arranging and selecting it." "You will have enough to make you ve ry comfortable, my dear," returned Aunt Sarah, "but you must not count a great deal for mere outward show." "Oh, no, aunt, I intend to do with things that are plain and inexpensive, un til we can afford to have better. I think we will go to Brown's first. I saw some carpeting and curtains there that will be such a nice match for the parlor paper, and very reasonable too." As they were walking along, Aunt Sarah suggested that before purchasing, she make an inventory of that she intended to get, together with the price. To this Kate agreed, though she was confident that she had ample means to carry out the plans she had laid down. So Kate began to select her furniture; first for the parlor, then for the sitting room, then for the chambers, jotting down the price of each article. Then they went home to dinner. Aunt Sarah promised to make out a list of what kitchen furniture she would need, and after dinner she sat down to redeem it. In the meantime Kate, at her sug gestion, began to add up the long row of figures that had been the result of her morning's work. Her cheeks flushed as she proceeded, and the result seemed very unsatisfactory, for she went over it twice Aunt Sarah noticed her perplexity. "How much will you have left for your kitchen furniture ?" she inquired. "Three dollars and five cents!" The old lady smiled. "You will have enough to get a couple of tin plates and half a dozen knives and forks. "I don't understand it. I thought I had quite enough to furnish the house comfortably." "And so you have my dear ; but in your selection you have an eye more to show than comfort. I thought that I would let you take your own way, but I knew very well where it would terminate for you did not begin at the right end." "I do not know what you mean, aunt." "Why, yon should have begun with the kitchen and thus have secured the things you must have. Then, if there is any thing for the parlor, it could easily be goo Kate looked aghast at the list of articles that was handed her. "Shall I need all these things, aunt ?" If yon wish to do your work well and economically, you cannot get along with less. Never stint the kitchen t) snake a show in the parlor." "I don't see that I shall have anything left for the parlor," said Kate after a few minutes calculation of the figures before her; "the kitchen, sitting-room, dining room and chambers will take the whole. "And supposing that it should remain unfurnished, at least for the present. Those who come to see you will not ob ject to being received in your sitting-room, and those who come to see your furniture arc not worth being received at all." "But dim it will be so odd, so different• from what other people do. Mrs. Weston has her parlor very nicely furnished." Mrs. Weston was an old schoolmate, who had married a few week before. "Yes, and I happen to know how it w. paid for. Mr. Weston mortgaged his house. I presume your husband can do the same." Kate's natural good sense recoiled at this suggestion. "I would rather never have any parlor," she exclaimed. "Perhaps we can do with less in the sitting-room," she suggested, as she ran her eyes again over the list of articles. "I suppose that the sitting-room will be the place where you will spend the most of your evenings, and the most of your spare time ?" "Yes." "Then take the advice of an old married woman, my dear, and make the room where your husband spends his evenings the pleasantest one in the house." Kate followed Sarah's advice, and has never had reason to regret it. Five years later Mr. Weston's mortgaged house was sold under the hammer, and all his fine furniture went with it. Kate has now a pretty furnished parlor. and she enjoys it none the less that none of its adornments were purchased at the expense of the happiness of home and the substantial comforts of life. What Will You Have ? The group stood besides the marble slab -that formed the bar of a saloon. The lights flashed from the costly chandelier, and showed well the gilded room built by the earnings of working men. "What will you have ? what will you have ?" cried the bar-tender. A young man looked around and said, "Bitter ale." - There was nothing to do but press a lever, and the tankard, with its foamy crown, was at his lips, and the glasses were filled and refilled. When be went home to his mother's there was no marble table, no flashing light, and he was short of tem per, aye, even to his mother ! And he found his way back, evening after even ing, and had bitter ale, whisky - , and water and gin ; for you must increase the dose as you proceed. And now he has a young wife, in whose eyes there is no more of the old light; and he has four little children, who go to no school, for tLey have nothing to wear, and hardly enough to eat. And he has blotches on that once frank and honest face. There is an unhealthy red ness about his eyes; his lips are flabby, swoolen,and ea sickly whitish color; his hands are very unsteady ; he has been twice dismissed, and taken back at the re quest of a minister who knew the broken hearted wife in better days, and who at tended his mother's funeral, for her son was drunk at it. And if cholera or fever came to his cheerless room, his wife would likely be a widow and his children without a father, and, worst of all, it would be no great loss to them. He did not mean to have these when he said "bitter ale." But all these have come; or fire will burn, and fully will in jure, and vice will curse us, whether we mean it for not. Ah ! it has been bitter ale to him, indeed. My friend, what will you have ? Look beyond the hour and glass, think of the future; however pleasant it looks to the eye, or tastes to the lip, "at last it biteth like a serpent, and !dinged' like an ad der."—Dr. Hall. American Boys ere is good material for careful cul ture in American boys. Their stuff has teen - festal. The war . has - sho wit NA:it - There is in our boys. It was not the officers that made our army, as in the old countries.of Europe; but the boys who grew to sudden manhood amid the roar of artillery. They could wear out shoes in the march, and then march on without them in uncom plaining heroism. They could work under fire in the trenches, or charge on the bat teries in the thickest of the fight. They had genuine delicacy and tenderness, as well as stern resolution, keeping fresh the images of mothers and sisters and sweet hearts, whose memories were their inspira tion and their j'iy. They. could waste in hospitals, poisoned with the malaria of swamps, or die in silence on the lonely battle-field. - The soil we tread is redolent of their memories. The roses are redder for the rich blood that moistens them, and the lillies are whiter for the beauty of spir it in which they suffered. Such boys live still all over this regenerated land. They can 'FA have the stern discipline of war to fit then, .for the work that loanis up before them; but they must have its equivalent War-time has had its influence on the boys of this generation which they will not be likely to outgrew. It ought to produce even a loftier type of character than that they have witnessed, for the whole atmos phere is drenched with the spirit of hero ism. Bat the future holds out a noble prospect still. There never was a wider scope than now fur men of broad intelli gence and earnest purpose ; but the stand ard of culture is higher than ever before. The boys of to-day must have a training commensurate with the grandeur of the work that is thrust upon them. __,-•....-•-- A Printer's Toast. From ratite?* An,crican and Literary Record we quote the following ingenious sentiment, given by M. H. L. Williams, at an annual dinner of printers in America : '-The Printer: An Epitome of many trades and professions. Like the Lawyer, he practices at the bar, and handles capital as well as lower eases ; like the Moralist, few have plainer rules to guide him ; like the Bravo, he sticks daggers into many forms; like the Astrologer, he reads the stars; like the Jailor, he is great on lock ing up; like the Cheat, he is versed in all the arts of imposition; like the Hunter, he knows all about the chaise; like the Per jurer, he has a strong lye always ready; though his Profession is not as old as Adam's, yet like the Gardener, he must be able to manage a Hoe, yet unlike the orig inal gardener will never want clothes, with a Taylor in his office; like the Soldier, he can handle a shooting stick, arrange col- umns, and set up cannon ; like the Dandy, he is fond of a dash ; like the king, he has plenty of pages; like the base ball player, he catches on the fly; like the Milliner, he keeps a stack of small caps, borders and flowers ; like the Jeweller, he can set pearl, ruby, agate and diamond ; like the housekeeper, he has a supply of furniture, beds and sheets; he never wants for music with so many Harpers in the profession. Finally, like the Clergyman, he sees his most perfect forms after he has omreeted all errors, carried off, and their beautiful faces covered with clay. Pleasant Experiments. Would you like to be able, "just for the fun of the thing," to take a coin out of a plate of water without wetting your linger ? Our friend, the Little Gleaner, shows us how to do it : Fill a plate with water to the depth of a quarter of an inch ; a coin is then put iu the water. A piece of paper is then lighted, put, while burning, on the surface of the water and covered with a tumbler. As the paper burns under the tumbler, the water will rush up under the tumbler and leave the coin in the plate, when it may be lifted without wetting the fingers. How to take impression of any veined leaf you wish to copy : Brush over a thick sheet of letter paper with oil; hold it over the smoke of the lamp until well blacken ed ; take a perfect loaf having a pretty out line; after warming it between the hands lay the leaf upon the smoked side of the paper, with the under side down ; press it evenly upon the paper, that every part may come in contact; go over it lightly with a rolling pin, then remove the leaf with care to a plain piece of. white note paper ; cover it with another piece of white paper and use the rolling pin again ; you will then have a beautiful impression of the delicate veins and outline of the leaf. Ferns generally make fine leaf-pictures. Shaking Hands To present the left hand fur the pur pose of a friendly greeting is a piece of discourtesy—sometimes intentional on the part of superiors in r...nk to their inferiors, and an act that no true gentleman will commit. There is no reas)n why it should be considered more discourteous thin it would be to kiss the left check instead of the right; but doubtless the custom that makes the right hand imperative in all sincere salutations dates from these early times when hand shaking first began, and the hand that shook or was shaken in friendship was of necessity weaponless. The poor left hand that ono would think ought to be of as much value and strength as the right, just as the left leg or foot is as strong as the right leg or foot, because they are both used equally, has fallen into disrepute, as well as into comparative disuse, until it has become an accepted phrase to say of any proceeding that is in auspicious, artful, sly or secretly malicious, that it is "sinister,"—that is, left-handed. To shake hands without removing the gloves is an act of discourtesy, which, if unintentional and thoughtless, requires an apolo,ry for the hurry or inadvertance which led to it. This idea would also seem to be an occult remnant of the old notion that the glove might conceal a weapon. Hence true courtesy and friend ship required that the hand should be naked as a proof of good faith. To refuse pointedly to shake hands with one who offers you the opportunity in a friendly manner amounts to a declaration of hostil ity. And after a quarrel or act of open hostility, the acceptance of the hand offered is alike the sign and ratification of peace. —All the Year Round. Inside the Earth. The greatest depth of the earth hitherto attained by man's explorations has not reached more than one mile from the sur face. When, as Professor Forbes states, it is remembered "that the diameter of the earth is 7,900 miles," the disproportion of our studies between the surfitce and the interior of our planet is evident. We have traversed every sea from pole to pole; the desert, the prairie, the great forests, and the inland river founts have alike been ex plored. All the sciences prove with what aid"6i• we have stuctted tirtugs - orrtiewnirs - surface and thence directed our attention to distant planets to study them; yet of our planet no attempt has yet ken made beyond one mile down. What, however, we have learned from this descent is as tonishing. We have discovered that the earth is not a solid substance . ; on the con trary it has a fluid interior, and- only the crust is solid; and relatively not so thick in proportion as a hen's egg. It is found that, for every hundred feet of descent there is a rise of temperature of two de grees Fahrenheit for every mile. At twenty-five miles deep we should have a temperature of 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit ; which is sufficient to melt iron, and the lava which we see ejected by volcanoes. Now, without any verifying experiment, the existence of volcanoes in different parts of the world, the perpetual springs of boiling water in Iceland, at Bath and 'Matlock, clearly proves the existence of subterranean heat. Fortun.ttely, experi ments of a different character from those of descending into the earth' substantiate the fact of interior fluidity. Ingralitude of Children There was once a father gave up every thing to his children—his house, his fields and goods—and expected that for this his children would support him. But after he bad been s nne time with his son, the lat ter grew tired of him, and said to him : "Father, I have had a son born to me this night, and there where your arm-chair stands, the cradle must come; will you not, perhaps, go to my brother, who has a larger room ? After he had been some time with the se , ond 5311, he also grew tired of him, and said : "Father, you like a warm roam, and that hurts my head ; won't you go to my brother, the baker ?" The father went, and after he had been some time with the third son, he found him troublesome, and said to him : • "Father, the people run iu and out here all day as if it were a pigeon-house, and you cannot have your noon-day sleep ; would you not be better off at my sister Kate's, near the town wall ?" The old man remarked how the wind blew and said to himself, "Yes, I will do so ; I will go and try it with my daughter. Women have softer hearts." But after he had spent sonic time with his daughter, she grew weary of him, and said she was always so fearful when her father went to church or anywhere else, and was obliged to descend the steep stairs, and at her sister Elizabeth's there were no stairs to descend, as she lived on the ground floor. For the sake of peace the old man as sented, and went to his other daughter.— But after some time she too was tired of him, and told him, by a third person, that her house, near the water, was too damp for a man who suffered with the gout, and her sister, the grave-digger's wife at St. John's, had much dryeflodgings. The 'old man himself thought she was right, and went outside the gate to his youngest daughter Helen. But after he had been three days with her, her little son said to his grandfather : "Mother said yesterday to cousin Eliza beth, that there was no better chamber for you than such a one as father digs." These words broke the old man's heart, so that he sank back in his chair and died in a moment. NEVER mention what you wish should not be mentioned again, two to a secret are enough, and one should not know any. thing about it. POVERTY is a hard task master. NO. 30. Vitt few circle. [Written for the Joonnek] God in Nature. BY DR. WILLIAM J. MULLIIN. Praise God the lofty pine exclaims, And points unto the skies ; Praise God I with outstretched limbs, The mighty oak replies. Praise God I is echod from the hills, And from the valleys deep; Praise God I in thunder tones is heard From out the surging deep. Praise God ! the passing zephyr says, In whispers, soft and sweet; Praise God! comes up from every spear, Of grass beneath your feet. Praise God ! the little brooklet sings, Meandering on its way; Praise God ! is heard from every plant, And all the flowrets gay. Praise God! resounds iu upper deep, From every twinkling star; Praise God! comes floating on the air, From myriad worlds afar. Praise God I the very stones cry out— Him whom the angels praise; Praise Godl ungrateful, fallen man, Your voice the chorus raise. Energy Added to Faith. The right balance of the Christain graces, that no one grace shall be dwarfed or perverted by the unscriptural develop ment of others, is greatly to be desired, especially in our day, when piety takes on such different modes of manifestation. En tire symmetry of Christian character, in which each grace holds its true place and all exhibit a proportionate completeness, is a rare attainment, and as difficult as rare. As an aid to this end is the scriptural in junction, "Add to your faith virtue." Faith is the foundation of true Christian character. It is as essential as the corner stone to a material structure; and this be cause•by it we arc brought into union with Christ, and secure the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. 'Without this living union, "the fruits of the Spirit" can have no de velopment, as they have no starting.point; with it all the benefits of Christ's redemp tive work may in time-become ours. This faith, the corner stone of the Chris tian edifice in the heart of every true be liever, is far more than a mere intellectual assent to the truth relating to Christ; it joins with this assent of the understanding a hearty embracing of Christ in all his of fices as just what the sinful man needs; and casts ifself upon him as its only and all-sufficient Saviour. Such a faith subor dinates the whole being—will, affections, and active powers—to the will of Christ. It makes the realities of the eternal world present verities, and leads the Christian to act as "seeing the Invisible." It sinks the world, with its motives and claims and pleasures, into their due insignificancy, and gives spiritual and divine things their proper prominence. On such a basis Christian character may be builded ; out of such a symmetrical cluster of graces may spring and bloom and mature. Yet faith without works is dead. Mere and profound, is of little avail, and may be perverted by the yet unsanctified nature into a blind and dreamy mysticism. Hence says the precept, "Add to your faith vir tue," that manly energy which will go forth in active work for Christ. "Action, not thought, is being's highest end ;" and he that will follow Christ must, like him, go about and do good. God is ever active, and iu world-making and world governing "worketh hitherto." Christ in .. . . earnate was ceaseless in his activities; the early disciples rested not in the diffusion of his salvation; nor should any believer now fail to work in his vineyard. The ad dition of this manly energy to a living faith is essential to the beginning of a symmetrical Christian character. The Peril and the Escape. A heavily-laden ship was sailing through the "Vineyard sound,' when a captain fa miliar with the rocks and shoals, rowing by, warned the crew of a rising gale, and a dangerous ledge at hand. They disre garded the repeated alarm, and were left to their own course. An hour later, and from the shore the signals of distress were seen from that ves sel's deck. The captain who had tried in vain to induce the master and crew to seek safe anchorage, with a few friends, entered his boat, and went towards that bark, reel ing in the storm on the rocks which held it that. Upon nearing it, the billows tossed the boat high in air, and then left it in the abyss of waters, making the rescue well nigh hopeless. At length a bed was thrown into the boat, and the cry went up, "Jump for your life, it is your only chance!' TLe imperilled group looked down upon the danger, and into the storm, and hesitated. The vessel began to part, and once more the shout was heard, "It is your last chance —come now, or you are lost !" The leap was made, and while the ship went to pie ces on the boiling flood, the boat bore the rescued crew safely to the shore. Thus the sinner disregards the warnings of those who see his peril; and when God in mercy brings him to feel his guilt and danger, he still clings to his foundering bark. If saved at all, he comes to the de cision which costs the greatest struggle his soul can know, to spring into the arms of Christ without reserve. His heart ex claims : "I can but perish if I go, I am resolved to try; For if I stay away, I know I must forever die." It is a wonderful fact in salvation, that, with the certainty of ruin behind and of salvation before, when this last resolve is Blade, the soul's extremity is a reality=it is a determined and yet a desperate spring for life. God intended that the surrender to his mercy should be unconditional, and the glory of the rescue for eternity his own. A Word of Comfort. Oh, disciple ! have you not been wont to regard yourself as occupying, in the Saviour's mind, such a place as a star in the firmament, or a leaf in the forest, or, at best, a sheep in the uncounted fold ? If these be be your notions, go back to Olivet. hear the Divine Intercessor ex claiming,—"Neither pray I for these alone, but fur then also which shall believe on me," and hear Ilim promising, "And lo I am with you always, even to the end of the world."—Hamilton. OUR trying to love an object is like our trying to laugh when we nre not pleased ; the more we try, the less shall we succeed. The trying part of tne process implies it. is a thing we do not prefer
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