M. 46. Huntingdon Journal, URBORROW, J. A. NASII, t the Corner of Bath and Washington streets. aUNTINOPON JOURNAL it published every lay, by J. R. DefftlitOßßOW and J. A. Nesn, ie firm name of J. R. Donnonnow & Co., at r annum, IN ADVANCE, or $2,50 if not paid s mouths from date of subscription, and t paid within the year. .per discontinued, unless at the option of Ushers, until all arrearages are paid. 2RTISEMENTS will be inserted at TEN see line for each of the first four insertions, ecsrs per line for each subsequent inner ; than three months. ar monthly and yearly advertisements will ted at the following rates : 3ml6mj 9 ml 1 3 • ;TA Ttio iOO E 00 3 00 10 00 3 00 14 00 I 50 18 00 3mlGm 1, , 1 m. , 1 2 9 4 0 . 0 4 3400 1 ao oo' Tic I 10 00112 00 'l4 00,18 00 '2O 00121 00 25 00130 00 al notices will be inserted at TWELVE AND CENTS per line. and local and editorial no- F11:TE!:N CETI'S per line. esulntions of As;ociations, Communications 3tl or individual interest, and notices of Mar ,nd Deaths, exceeding five lines, will be . TEN cuNrs per line. and other notices will be charged to the aving'than inserted. rtising Agents must find their commission of these figures. drertising accounts are tine and collectable e adrertiscment is onre inserted. _ PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and 3olofs, done with neatness and dispatch.— ills. Blanks. Cards. Pamphlets, Sc., of every and style, printed at the shortest notice, pry thing in the Printing line will be execn he most artistic manner and at the lowmit Professional Cards DENGATE, Surveyor, Warriors mark, Pa. [ap12.71. CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law, No. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied srs. Woods & Williamson. Lapl2,ll. ~ R. R. WIESTLING, respectfully offers his professional services citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity. removed to No. 61.81 Hill street, (Surim's so.) [apr.s;7l-Iy. J. C. FLEMMING respectfully •ffers his professional services to the citizens tingdon and vicinity. Office second floor of .gham's building, on comer of 4th and Hill may 24. D. P. MILLER, Office on Hill street, in the room formerly occupied by in ISPCulloch, Huntingdon, Pa., would res. ly offer his professional services to the citi lluntingdon and vicinity. Dan.4,'7l. L A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. e on Washington street, one door east of the is Parsonage. [jan.4,7l. L E G. D. ARNOLD, Graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, offers his Fo al services to the people of Huntingdon and ERENCE :-Dr. B. P. Hook,of Loysville, Pa.. hom he formerly practiced; Drs. Stille and • of Philadelphia. e on Washington street, West Huntingdon, [5p.18,71. J. GREENE, Dentist. Office re moved to Leister'snew building, llill street agdon. [jan.4,'7l. L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Bri.wn's new building, No. 520, Hill St., neon, Pa. [apl2,'7l. GLAZIER, Notary Public, corner • of Washington and Smith streets. ffun in, Pa. Dan. 1271. C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. • bffice, No. —, Hill street, Huntingdon, [ap.lB,ll. SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at- Law. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, llill street, doors west of Smith. Dan.47l. IL PATTON, Druggist and Apoth- ecary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun an, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded. Liquors for Medicinal purposes. [n0v.23,'70. HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office, second floor of w's new building, Hill street. Unn.4,71. R. DURBORROW,.._Attorney-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practice In the al Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular tion given to the settlementaf estates of deco- leo in ho JOURNAL Building. [feb.l,'7l A. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real Estate Agent, itnntingdon, Pa., will attend rveying in all its branches. Will also buy, n. rent Farms, Houses ' and Real Estate of ev ind, in any part of the United States. Send circular. pan. 4.71. W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., era' claims against the Government for back bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend• with great care and promptness ice on Hill street. Dan. 4,71. ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at -• Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention a to CobbecrioNs of all kinds ; to the settle : of Estates, ttc.; and all other Legal Business ,euted with fidelity and dispatch. B 4 Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton Esq. Dan.4;7l. ILLS ZENTMYER, Attorney-at a- Law, Huntingdon. Pa., will attend promptly I legal business. Office in Cunningbam's new ling. [jan.4,'7l. M & M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys • at-Low, Huntingdon, P., will attend to :Inds of legal business entrusted to their care. Mee on the south side of Hill street, fourth door of Smith. Dan.4,'7l. I A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law, L• Office, 321 Hill greet, Huntingdon, Pa. [may3l,'7l. N SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. M. BAILEY COTT, BROWN & BROWN. _ At- torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions, all claims of soldiers and soldiers' hairs against Government will be promptly prosecuted. fee on Hill street. [jan.4,'7l. I W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun - • tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart, 1. [jan.4,'7l. VILLIAM A. FI 4 P3IING, Attorney at-Law,v. Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention en to collections, and all other I agal business ended to with care and promptness. Once. No. Hill street. [npl9,'7l. Miscellaneous rXCIIANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon A Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor. January 4, IS7I. ALLISON MILL.. A. dILLER & BUCHANAN, DENTISTS, No. 228 Hill Street, HUNTINGDON, PA. April 5, '7l-Iy, CEAR THE' RAILROAD DEPOT, COR. WAYNE and JUNIATA STREETT UNITED STATES HOTEL, lIOLLIDAYSBURG, PA 'CLAIN d; CO., PROPRIETORS -11,OBT. KING, Merchant Taylor, 412 Washington street, Huntingdon, Pa., a lib al share of patronage respectfully s2licited. Aprill2, 1871. The -5 ti unngclon Journal. ).;' Nowtr. A Second Review of the Grand Army. I read last night of the Grand Review In Washington's chiefest avenue— Two hundred thousand men in blue I think they said was the number— Till I seemed to hear their tramping feet, The bugle's blast and the drum's quick beat, The clatter of hoofs in the stony street, The chiefs of the people who came to greet, And the thousand details that to repeat Would only my verse encumber— Till I fell in a revery sad and sweet, And then to a fitful slumber. When lo! in a vision I seemed to stand In a lonely capitol. On each hand, Far stretched the portico, dim and grand, Its columns ranged like a martial band Of sheeted spectres, whom some command Hath called to the last reviewing I And the streets of the city were white and bare, No footfall echoed along the square, But out of the misty midnight air I heard in the distance a trumpet blare, And the wandering night winds seemed to bear The sound of far tattooing. a z Oi s l 4 s 651 SO Then I held my breath in fear and dread ; For in the square with brazen tread There rode a figure whose stately head O'er looked the review that morning. It never bowed from its firm-set seat When the living column passed its feet, Yet now rode stately up the street To the phantom's bugle warning ! Till it reached the capitol square and wheeled, And there in the moonlight stood revealed, A well-known form that in State and field Had led our patriot sires ; Whose face was turned to the sleeping camp Afar through the river's fog and damp, That showed no flicker nor warning lamp Nor wasted bivouac fires. And I saw a phantom army come, With never a sound of fife or drum, But keeping time to a throbbing hum Of wailing and lamentation ! The martyred heroes of Malvin Hill, Of Gettysburg and Chancellorsville, The men whose wasted figures fill The patriot graves of the nation. And there came the nameless dead, the men, Who perished in fever, swamp and fen, The slowly starved of the prison pen I And marching besides the others, Came the dusty martyrs of Pillow's fight, With limbs enfranchised and bearing bright; I thought—perhaps 'twas the pale moonlight— They looked as white as their brothers. And w all night marched the nation's dead, With never a banner above them spread, Nor a badge nor a motto branished 1 No marksave the bare uncovered head Of the silent bronze reviewer— With never an arch save the vaulted sky, With never a flower save those that lie On the distant graves—for love could buy No gift that was purer or truer. So all night long swept the strange array, So all night long till the morning gray I watched for one who had passed away, With a reverend awe and wonder— Till a blue cap waved in the length'ning line, And I knew that one who was a kin of mine Had come, and I spake—and In I that sign Awakened me from my slumber ght ffitorg-Uviler, The Hour's Beige. A SKETCH OF THE REVOLUTION. IT was past midnight of the 13th of August (commenced my grandmother,) but though the river was in front of us, and the forest stretched for miles behind us, and away to the right and left, I could not catch even the sight of a leaf or the ripple of the water, so sultry and heavy brooded the darkness around us. I had not been in the best of spirits that day, for it was the time when we dreaded every hour to hear the bombardment of New York ; and though in the house of Thomas Oakley, a brother of my father, and such a terror and dread of that day that I could not help fearing lest some evil had happened to my parents, who were still in the city. As usual with the sleepless, all sorts of fancies teased my brain. My room, like all others, was large and furnished in the style that seems so quaint to persons of the present day. The chimney-piece was filled with porce lain, curiously wrought with illustrations of scripture. The bed and furniture that had been brought from England was tall, dark, stiff and carved, while the walls were hung with sombre family portraits. And as I lay and wished for day the tiled figures seemed to move and glower at me in the uncertain light that came through a loop hole in my window, while I thought the eyes of the portraits were one and all fixed on me with a solemn, warning stare, and so it happened that I heard the old clock strike one, two, three, and was just falling off into a doze, when there came a light step along the hall, and cousin Grace in a strange, scared voice, outside the door, said "Helen, Helen I" Iwas up 'in a moment and out to where she stood, looking like a spirit, with her ashy face, and fair hair falling about her; and I remember the thrill of astonishment with which, spite of my fright, I saw that she was already dressed, and held in her hand a powder-flask. "Put - on your clothes as quick as you can, Nellie," she said in a voice that trem bled a little, though she was doing her best to be calm, "Brant's men are coming and father wants us all down stairs." Brant's men ! It is difficult to make you understand the horror with which that name was pronounced and heard; or to express the terror with which, as I hurried on my clothes, I thought of Grace and myself in the hands of those merciless sav ages. No wonder that she trembled in every limb, or that Thomas Oakley and his five stalwart sons looked pale, as they mo ved about in the dim morning light. I don't know as I have spoken to you before of Thomas Oakley, a man over six feet in height, and of a noble presence, with a grand face, that looked as if it might have been chiseled out of marble, and hair as white as snow, although he was scarcely past his prime. We have no such men now-a-days. .1 have his portrait in my little cabinet yonder, and you may see that he looks as he was, a-kind and noble gentleman. As for his sons, they were like him— tall, strong-limbed, fearless, devoutly at tached to their stately mother, who was preparing breakfast, while they fastened the iron shutters of the heavy doors. "It's a shame to route you out so early, Nellie," said Mr. Oaklu, as he noticed my pale, frightened face ; "but if we didn't eat our breakfast now those sascals may not give us a chance to eat it at all, and to my mind, after a good cause, there's nothing like a good breakfast beibie going into a fight." "I wish Mark was here," said Grace timidly. "No doubt, Pussy; but I've sent for him. You. Yost, the half-witted lad that brought the news, has gone after him and the vol- Mahls-tf nnteers, who were to start for camp to-day, and if we can bu s t keep the rascals at Lay till they come, we may give them as good a peppering as they deserve." Ay, if ! but oh, that dreadful uncertainty. The house was of stone and so strongly built that it was doubtful if they could either raze or fire it. How many of that fair family would gather round the board to-morrow morning? Ah !it was a dread ful day; but I think the hour before the attack was the worst of all. It was not to be expected that we could eat much breakfast; but hurried as the meal was, it was hardly over when one of the boys whom my uncle had posted on the lookout, called out "they are coming," and stealing along the woods to the right as if thoy hoped to surprise us. At once the men hurried with their rifles to the window of the second story; while Mrs. Oakley, pale, but still outwardly calm, mo tioned us to follow and hand out the pow der. Then came a dead silence. "Look out., Simon," said the father, in a low %nice, "and tell us what the rascals are about." "Posting themselves around the house but under cover. They think to catch us napping. There's a man coming this way now—he—Why, father, it is Walter Van Cuyler!" We all started. The meaning of this sudden attack was clear enough now. Van Cuyler had been a praesssional pa triot and a warm admirer of Grace; and on his rejection by her, had gone away vowing to take a terrible revenge on the whole family. "The traitor," muttered my uncle " it is he, then, that has brought down this swarm of hornets. What is he doing now ?" "He has been trying the windows to see if they are fastened. . Now he is at the door." The words of Simon were at times drown ed in a series of thundering knocks at the door. Mr. Oakley went to Simon's window and demanded: "Who is there ?" "Walter Van Cuyler." "What do you want ?" . . "Food, rest and shelter. Brant's men are on my track. Let me in quickly." The sharp crack of a rifle, and the words "liar and hypocrite" were his an swer. A fierce yell arose from behind the hay-stacks and out-buildings as twenty dark forms rushed forward brandishing their weapons and firing at random, while as many more hovered - on the outskirts of the wood. Within the house was perfect silence, broken only by the low "now boys" ofMr. Oakley and the crack of six of the best ri fles in the country. "Six down ! A man down for each bul let. "Good !" cried the exulting voice of my uncle. "The powder, girls, and we'll give 'em another." A shower of bullets that rattled like hail stones about the windows, cut short his words. Mr. Oakley picked up some that fell harmlessly on the floor, and remarked: . . "The serpents are kinder than anticipa ted. They Iwo going to Itrfp nq in bullets as well as exercise. So much the better, for we have none to spare. Now boys." Another flash and roar, and again the voice of Mr. Oakley : _ . "Fire steady, bOys, and take good aim Don't waste powder." A dead silonce ensued. "They're cowed, father. They are sneak ing off to cover," exclaimed Simon. "Not they; they are only trying some new deviltry. John and Mathew, round with you to the back of the house. Grace —my God ! where did that shot come from ?" as with a sharp cry, Reuben, the eldest, leaped three feet in the air, and fell forward on his face, stone dead. Mrs. Oakley sprang forward, and threw herself on his body. The fair-haired eld est boy was her darling. Another shot came crashing through the window, and imbedded itself in the opposite wall. "Aim at yonder tree," shouted Mr. 04k ley. "I saw the gleam of a rifle barrel among the leaves. See ! the oak yonder." A Third shot whizzed so close past us as to make us start back, and then our un erring rifles answered back and down thro' the bush went a dark body striking with a heavy "thud" against the ground. "He is silent," exclaimed Mr. Oakley, with a gleam of stern satisfaction shooting across-his face. Here there waz a silence of longer dura tion than any which preceded it and we were. at a loss to know whether they had drawn off and given up the attack. This my uncle doubted, for he was accustomed to the tactics of those wily foes. At last he remarked : "Where can they be hiding? I see none of the rest." "Father, Father !" called Grace in an agonized tone. Oakley ran hastily into the back room where she was. A stalwart man in a huntino• ' frock sa bronzed as to almost make it doubtful if he was white ot red swung himself from an adjoining tree on the balcony and was trying to force him self thr3ugh the little window. As Mr. Oakley rushed forward be drew his hunting knitb that he wore in his belt, but receiving the sharp edge in his bare hands, the infuriated father wrested it from his grasp by • main strength and plunged it up to the hilt in his breast. A fierce yell and a harmless volley from those in ambush, received this new defeat. and then another of those ominous pauses. "What can they be about ?" uttered Si mon who was again at the lookout. "They are pulling up hay and brushwood. They surely do not dream of firing the house?" "The door, the door !" gasped Grace. "Right I" 'exclaimed the faker. "The girl has more wit than all of us. We must barricade the hall." "Never mind the shutters," said Mrs. Oakley who bad regained her marble com posure ; "we will bar them," and she be gan to draw the bolts. Mr. Oakley hesitated, for the task was one of danger, but there was no time, and chairs, tables and sofas were piled up at a short distance from the door, and made what was really a formidable barricade, guarded as it was by the unerring rifles. The smell of the burning wood and the smoke that filled the hall now grew almost intolerable. Mr. Oakley now placed us on the stair case and exhorted his sons to stand close, and take good aim. A portion of the door fell in. Mr. Oakley raised his rifle, and Wal ter Van Cuyler, who was the first to spring in, staggered and fell back with a groan; the others swarmed in like bees, but a sec ond and a third of these deadly volleys brought them to a stand. No man dared expose himself to such certain death. Mr. Oakley turned impetuously to his sons : "Give 'eni another, boys, we'll beat 'ens off yet !" But a mute shake of the head was the only answer. The powder was HUNTINGDON, PA., SEPTEMBER 6, 1871 exhausted. For a moment a deadly pallor spread his face ; the next his voice rang out clear and firm as ever : "Close up! Draw your knives! We will sell our lives as dearly as possible." "Come on I their powder is out!" shout ed a man who, with a half dozen others, had succeeded in scrambling over the bar ricade and making his way towards the lit tle group. "You had better be careful. Our women have their knitting-needles yet," retorted Mr. Oakley derisively. "We'll take care of you and the women both," returned the ruffian aiming a blow at Simon that brought him to the ground. A spasm contorted Mr. Oakley's stern features for a moment, then with a stran gled sob he threw himself headlong upon his assailants. "Kill him—cut him down—he's the devil himself!" shouted a dozen voices; but in a moment arose another and a far different cry. "The rebels—the rebels are upon us ! And thundering on, trampling tke coward ly wretches down under their horses' hoofs came Mark Warner with his light horse troop. In an instant all was confusion.— No one tho' ght of anything but fight; and the enraged Americans mowed the flying tories down like grain. Then burst forth all the emotions so long pent up. Father and sons threw themselves into one anpther's arms; Grace fainted; and Mrs. Oakley's stony compo sure melted into a flood of hysterical tears. Ours was a joyful and yet a sad house that night—for although we had been &•- livered as it were from the very jaws of death, yet the bodies of our dead were with us. Ah ! children! these were sad times, try ing times ! There was a wedding between Ilark and Grace, and I danced as merrily as may of them;but poor Mrs. Oakley wore mourning to th end of her days; and the last words on her lips were the names of her murdered sons. Pitted. A Contrast. The record of the Democratic party when in power, were we to accept as bona fide the statements of its organs, would be one uninterrupted administration of public af fairs on the most economical and prudent principles. Unfortunately, however, the record is inconsistent with the rhetoric, and here iu Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, our friends of the Opposition have squan dered and appropriated the people's mon ey.. Here is a little list of the offim-ers and expenses of the State Senate when Repub can contrasted with those of the same body when the Democracy were in an ac. cidental majority : REPUBLICAN. Officers of Senatq Session Officers of ...ye,flete, Session 1871. 1 chief clerk. 3 assistant clerks. 5 transcribing clerks. 1 sergeant-at-arms. assistant sergeants-al arms. 1 messenger. assistant messengers. 1 dem keeper. 1 keeper rotunda. 1 postmaster. 1 chaplain. 1 keeper of Speaker's room 1 siip't folding Ilep'zit. S pesters and folders. 3 firemen. 1 watchman. 1 laborer. 1 janitor. 9 pages. I librarian. 1 assistant librarian. 1 chief clerk: 2 assistant clerks. 5 transcribing clerks. 3 warstaut sergeants-at arms. 1 doorkeeper. 2 assistant doorkeepers. 1 keeper of Speaker's room.l 2 assistant messengers. 1 librarian. 1 elnblain. 1 postmaster. 1 marshal—rotunda. riribldfng room. 5 pasters and folders. 1 engineer. 1 fireman. 1 janitor. 38 total. 149 total. By this showing it appears that the amount paid the subordinate officers of the Senate in 1870, when that body was Republican, was $26,466,65. The total ex penses of the Senate at the same session were $92,260,36. In 1871 the amount paid the officers was $47,904,50, and the total expenses of the session thus far paid out are $140,- 757,68—a difference in favor of the ses sion of 1870 of nearly $50,000. Back of all this there is a history, for the facts of which we are indebted to the frarrisburg Telegraph. It appears that in 1868 the Legislature—Republican in both branches—passed an act, still on the stat ute books, fixing the number and compen sation of the officers of each branch of the Legislature. The number of officers of the Senate was fixed at one chief clerk, two assistants, four transcribing clerks, one librarian, one sergeant-at-arms and two assistants, one doorkeeper and two as sistants, one messenger and two assistants, one superintendent of the folding room and sit posters and folders, one doorkeeper of the rotunda, one postmaster, one fire man, and five pages—thirty-two in all. The Republican Senate of 1869 was or ganized according to this law—there be ing exactly the number of officers allowed by it. The Democrats at that time, how ever, were out of office and desirous of putting themselves on record. Not satis fied with a strict compliance with the statute, they offered a resolution fur a still further reduction, proposing to dispense with one of the assistant messengers, the postmaster, and ALL the pesters and fold ders. For this amendment all the Democratic Senators voted, the vote standing 15 to 18. In 1871, when these professors of econ omy came into power, they increased the officers one.fifth, nearly double their pay, and swelled the expenses of the session fully fifty thousand dollars. The truth of the whole matter is that no reliance at all can be placed on the profuse promises of the Democracy. They arraign the Re publicans for delaying the restoration of peace and order, and yet they countenance the barbarous KuKlux Klan; they charge us with maladministration and corruption, and endorse Tammany and its tribe in the same breath. The party of the roughs and thieves in the North, the murderers and KuKlux in the South, there was never a time that it was more deserving the death, or more hostile to the real principles and theory of Democracy.—Phila. Press. THE Chicago IQ, referring to the breaking down of M'Cook, Democratic candidate for Governor of Ohio, and his withdrawal from the stump saps : "We un dertake to say that no man can make lat ter-day Democratic politics a severe study without dethroning and shattering to a miserable wreck his immortal mind." FOLLOWING the example of their breth ren in Pennsylvania and Ohio, who made up a platform from worn out and discarded Republican planks, the Democracy of Wis consin have nominated as their candidate for Governor James R. Doolittle, one of the decayed timbers we long since threw overboard. TAMMANY, in its impotent wrath, has commenced an ejectment suit against the Times, claiming for the city the title to the property on which the office is built. This attempt to shift the issue is a tacit admission of the Times' great indictment. Two Decades--Showing the Differ ence in the Condition of the State for Ten Years under the Democratic) Rule, and Ten Years under Repub lican Management. The Democrats had an almost unbroken rule in Pennsylvania from 1850 to 1860; and the Republicans have been in power most of the time from 1860 to 1871. The record made by these parties, within those periods, in the management of the finan ces of the State, is a fair test by which to try them. The State debt on the lst of December, 1850, and on the same date of the ten years following, is given in the following table, compiled from the annual reports of the Auditor General : State debt Dec. 1, 1850...540,775,485 42 " 1851... 40,114,236 39 " 1852... 41,524,875 37 " 1853... 40,566,279 ►4 " 1854... 40,613,160 07 " 1855... 40,196,994 22 " 1956... 4017;835 Z 5 cc " 1857... 39,881,733 22 tt " 2858... 39,488,243 67 " 1859... 38,6?.8,961 07 " 1860... 37,969,847 50 It will be seen from this table that the State debt remained above forty millions —some years increasing and in others de creasing slowly—until 1856, when the Democratic ascendancy began to-be shak en. The public works were sold in 1857, in 1858 the RepubliCans carried the House, in 1859 they carried both House and Senate, and in 1860 they elected the Governor and a majority in both Houses. During these ten years the ruling party had the benefit of the revenue from the State tax on real and personal estate, and the tax on tonnage on the Pennsylvania railroad. The revenue from these two sources, during the decade referred to was as follows : Tonnage Tax. State Tax. 1851 $ 9,514 71 $1,372.170 37 1852 21,270 66 1,359,636 20 1853 67,227 22 1,381,550 59 1854 118,205 11 1.510,403 39 1855 161.125 25 1,721,114 79 1856 250,947 24 1,682,035 21 1857 204,564 11 1,554,667 34 1858 224,535 62 1,610,229 19 1859 47,582 68 1,388,502 18 1860 31,425 15 1,444,674 93 $1,136,397 75 $15,024,984 19 Total revenue from these 1,136,397 75 sources in ten years $16,101,381 94 And yet, with all this revenue, and $300,000 additional paid in three install ments, 1858, 1859 and 1850, by the Penn sylvania railroad in redemption of its bonds, given in purchase of the public works, the public debt remained almost unchanged for six years, and was finally reduced in the following four years, but a trifle, as these figures show : State debt December 1, 1850 $40,775,385 42 State debt December 1, 18'60 37,969,847 50 Total reduction in ten years 52,805,637 92 ffreva.;"6 u t I,ITISTr,f,OI) Shortly after the Republicans came fully into possession of the State govern ment 1861, they were confronted with the necessity of arThing the troops of the State called out to suppress the rebellion and to put the State into condition of defense. Hence the negotiations of the war loan of 1861. They therefore commenced their decade with a debt of over forty millions, as follows : State debt December 1, 1860 $37,969,847 50 War loan of 1861 3,500,000 00 Total .841,469,847 50 The tonnage tax was repealed in 1861, and subsequently, in February, 1866, the three mill tax on real estate was re pealed, so that these large sources of rev enue enjoyed by the Democrats were cut off from their successors, the annual pay ment into the Sinking Fund by the Penn sylvania railroad being increased, by the repeal of the tonnage tax, from $lOO,OOO to $460,000 annually. With the tonnage tax repealed since 1861, and the three mill tax abolished since 1865, the Republican administration of the State has still managed to reduce the public debt more than one-fourth. A statement published, officially, by the Comtnissionrs of the Sinking Fund, shows the public debt, July 1, 1871, to be as follows : RECAPITULATION OF PUBLIC DEBT. Debt bearing coin int., $ 4.507,300 00 Debt bearing interest in U. S. Currency 24,782,445 30 Debt on which interest has been stopped 155,976 36 Debt bearing no interest 100,866 05 Total debt, July 1, 1871-29,546,587 71 We can thus fairly compare the result of the two decades : State debt, December 1, 1850410,775,105 42 ." " 15C0.:37,069,847 50 Reduction in ten yearn under tbo Demecant@...2,405,627 02 Sta•.e debt December 1, 1262 $17,960,247 50 War debt since added 3,500,000 00 $11,469,847 50 Debt July 1, 1871 29,5.40,587 71 Reduction in ten yeare under the Republicans 11,923,259 79 Difference in favor of the Republicans $ 9,117,621 67 Annual average reduction under Democratic rule Annual average reduction under Republican rule 1,192,325 97 Ai;nnal difference to the people of the State. And this, be it remembered, has been accomplished with not merely a reduction of taxation, but under a total repeal of all direct taxation upon the property of the people. We commend these figures to the care ful attention of the voters of the State. Democratic Honesty and Justice The Chicago Post says: The Democrats claim that there is urgent need for amnes ty to everybody who has ever fought against the Constitution of the United States, and that the mere fact that a man has been a rebel is proof on its face that he is not a rebel now. For instance: Three men, Liber, M'Kinney and Parme lee, who acted as judges and clerk of election in the Ninth ward of Louisville, at the late Kentucky election, were arres ted upon the suit of a colored man for pre venting him from voting. The colored man was legally qualified. —so the court ruled. The two white judges declared on election day that he was not qualified, and compelled him to leave the polls. Under the law, these judges are amenable to a fine of at least $5OO, or imprisonment for one year, or both. Therefore the court decided (1) that the judges had violated the law, and (2) that they should there fore be honorably discharged. They left the court room happy and triumphant; and thus the Democratic vote of Kentucky will be nobly and honestly sustained, though the Democracy shed the last drop of their blood in the effort. piorellantaw. Sowing Wild Oats. 'My dear sir, do you know how your boy is behaving? Do you know that he is playing truant from school, getting into bad company, and learning the ways of wickedness ?" "Oh ! well, he is young now. By and by he will have more sense, and quit his foolishness." And it was not a natural-born fool that used this langu..ge either, but a man of fine mind, superior education, ..ad of Christian profession. This is sometimes the way in which in dolent parents waive aside the warning of their best and wisest friends. And how did this waiting for sense re sult? Just as it will always end. The boy made rapid strides in the school of wickedness, ran away to a great city, plunged into nameless vices, dragged him self home, not as the prodigal penitent, but as a body putrescent, to die in his father's house a heart-breaking disgrace to parents, and a scandal to all who had known him. And yet to-day myriads of parents are waiting until the period of sowing wild oats is passed, and indulge the infatuated hope that wild oats sown will produce wnolesome wheat and corn. The truth is, this "waiting fur sense" is leaving the wayside house empty for oc cupation by banded ruffians, who, when once established, are not going to be frightened, or driven out by a feeble old man throwing tufts of grass and wads of lamentations. And, again, it is not an affair of sense at all, but a matter of habit, and, above all, of grace. . Did those parents or teachers take those boys into their private rooms, carefully teach them with the open Bible, kneel by their side in earnest prayer, put before them faithful examples, with the use of proper discipline, trust them to the grace of God? If this is not done in time, it never will be done later. If we cannot or will not when children are very young, we shall have no face or heart to break in with a new routine when they are older, and our reluctance is stereotyped into hardness. Sometimes we have been tempted to be lieve that God made a great mistake in putting such tremendous passions into ju venile nature, before reason, reflection, conscience, and experience have asserted their power and influence fully. But it is all right. Passion is simply the locomotive power, and it draws whatever it is hitched on to. The• question is, How shall it be linked ? for character cannot be developed without it. A boy or adult without passion may be a milk-sop, a putty-ball, a nonenti ty, who cannot stand without leaning up against the sunny side of a house, but he will never make a man, and never carve his mark in this obstinate and wicked world. Now, we hurrah for the boisterous, the tearing, the over-boiling boys. The ablest men are only enclosed pots of boiling wa "rilsTan.l ufau but they carry that suppressed and regulated force which resides in passions governed by principle moving along the iron track of duty. During this formative period, it is given to parents and teachers to instruct, to guide and enforce; and those parents are worse than insane who wait in the idle dream that "sense" will come along by and by and repair the damage caused by their neglect. Many a young man to-day in prison, or hospital, or eating huski - in the prodigal's land, curses father and mother for their terribly guilty laxness and utter want of parental wisdom. Woe td the parents who weakly resign their commissions and shirk those obligations which God has put upon them, and which they had no right to as sume unless they meant honestly to fulfill them in the fear of God. Let none of us make this mistake.-8. S. Workman. The Young Man and Life. It is a great thing for a young man, says Rev. J. yr. Ware, to find out early that he is of the minimum of importance in the world that while it demands of him everything that le can do, it can get on admirably without him. In all its busy, pressing force, he is not missed—bless you, he never has been recognized! Don't for get the mistake made by the fly on the coach-wheel, nor the disaster that overtook the ambition of the frog. Do all you can; sink all selfish thought of self; and com pel out of you the best that is in you. Without morbidness,, without morose ness, just this life has said to me—l think it says it early : Trust God and your own right arm. Look to no compensating charity from man. Let. your compensation be in the reward of your own soul, and the humble hoping for the benediction of your God. In nothing is the young man more wont to be lax than the matter of habit. Life says to him that in nothing d ,es he more need constant and anxious care. Habit makes us. What we are in the habit of do ing, saying, thinking, decides the matter of character and the success of life. If life were outy-cs rcrictrof-lud,pcddv.t 131MT-1 - - dual acts, were there no moral continuity to it, no dependence of part on part; if nothing were repeated, it would every where be a failure. It is repetition that twists the fibre of existence into something permanent, coherent. Otherwise it would be only a rope of sand. And so we ought to have a special care about our first do ings, because they entail second doings, and second doings ensure third doings; and the heaps on heaps rise, as Himalay and Andes grow. Virtue is the habit of good; vice is the habit of bad; that is all. Repetition makes each. Their power, their majesty, their mischeif, are only be cause of that. Do good, with God's help, and you can't help being good; keep doing evil and you can't help being evil. Hon esty, integrity, truth, avarice,sensuality, theft, are only habits—no way separate, irresistible acts,-and are to be reached or avoided by forming or avoiding the habit. Life says to the young man that its secret lies in the habit formed and the habit avoided. '91F,782 18 RURAL youth of eighteen summers recently invested in a banana in the cars on a New York railroad. Ue carefully re moved the peel and put it on the seat by his side; then he broke the fruit up in small bits, eyeing it anxiously as he did so. When this was done he picked up the peel, shook it in his lap, and finally threw the pieces oat of the window, re marking, as he did so: "That's the fast of them prize packages I ever bought, an' it's the last, you bet." A LITTLE boy defines snoring as letting of sleep. DEATH'S CARNIVAL! THE MASSACHUSETTS HORROR ! J 1 Heavily Loaded Passenger Train, While Stepping at a Station, Telescoped by a Ligh.tening Express—Twen*four Killed and Many Wounded—The Crushed, Scalded, Burned and Mangled Bodies— The Murder on the Head of the Rail road Employees. BOSTON, Augurt 27.—One of the most appalling railroad horrors ever known in New England occurred on the Eastern Railroad at about 8:15 o'clock last evening, near the Revere Station, a small town about five miles from the city, formerly North Chelsea. A regular train consisting of three passenger cars left here for Beverly and way stations at a quarter past 7, but from some cause or other it was delayed so that it was nearly an hour later before it was ready to move on from Revere. This train was filled with passehgetb, luau" ur whom were on their way to attend the Methodist camp meeting at Hamilton, in tending to remain over only the Sabbath. The cars were filled to repletion ;In fact the aisles and platforms were densely packed with human beings. A drizzling blinding rain prevailed at the time. The train consisted of two engines, a baggage, smoking and three passenger cars, and its regular time for departure from this city was 7:30, but was detained at Everett in consequence of the non-arrival of a branch train on the Saugus road. The Bangor express, or Pullman train - left the station on its regular time, 8 o'clock, and went tearing along through the darkness at a rapid rate of speed and on the same track that the motionless Beverly train was standing. When near the Revere Station the engineer to his horror discovered that the Beverly train had not started. He quickly whistled "DOWN BRAKES," but :Ras, it was too late to avert the ap proaching calamity which immediately fol lowed. Those on the Beverly.train who saw the approaching engine, with horror realized the situation. They leaped from the platform for their lives, and in the last car there was a rush for the door, creating a momentary panic. Quite a number got off this way. In the meantime the great locomotive coming on until there arrived a moment when the glare became darkness and the rumbling crash followed by the hissing of escaping steam, mingled with yells of the dying, groans of the hurt and shrieks of the frightened. It was an awful moment. The engine struck the rear car and crushed its way through it, throwing men and women,with the debris it made, on either side; clear and clean througlr the rear car it went, reducing it to fragments; but even then it had not lost its powerful momentum. It cra..hed on into the next car, and did not stop IN ITS DEATHLY WAY until it had gone half its length. Some power seemed to raise up the locomotive like a learing "horse when it struck this car, for it appeared to have entered above the level of the door and run in like a closing telescope. The concussion was of such tremendous force that it throw the other cars of the Beverly train from the track, partially overturning them. The lamps were upset. THE KEROSENE OIL TOOK FIRE. There was, of course, a great rush, and the flames were communicated to the cloth ing of the women. The panic was fright ful and many were hurt and badly burned. The kerosene oil lamps were upset and their contents spilled upon the upholster ing, and in an instant the smoking car was in a blaze. THE GREEDY FLAMES traveled with great speed from one car to another, until three of them wet , : com completely enveloped. These were subse quently moved up the track half a dozen rods, so that the flames should not inter fere with the sufferers in the rear car, and there they were allowed to burn until there was nothing left for the fire to feed upon. THE DEAD AND WOUNDED. Among the shivered fragments of the car that first struck lay the motionless bodies of those already dead, while the wounded were writhing and shrieking in the agony of pain, and those that were able were try ing to extricate themselves from the debris which was upon and about them. At the second car the scene was similar. The wreck was not so complete, but the extent of the injury to the occupants was about as great. The scene after the collision beggars all descriytion. The first work was to release the imprisoned unfortunates in the tele scoped car. One after another the dead bodies were removed and laid on the flcor of the depot, which, for the time being, was turned into a charnel house. One young man lay crushed under a seat and writhed in agony. He called faintly for help, but when he.p came his soul had winged its flight into another world "FOE GOD'S SAKE HILL ME, KILL ME." cried another young nian. named Soubornas• ha i9at nulled from carried away to the Marine Hospital, about three miles distant, to breathe his last. The dead formed a ghastly spectacle, some had been pierced with splinters, oth ers crushed, many scalded and apparently free from bruises, but with tho peeling skin and that appalling pallor which over spreads the face where steam has been the instrument of death. A jury was impanneled to-day, who viewed the bodies and adjourned an inves tigation of the cause of the catastrophe until to-morrow. Thousands from the city and adjoining towns visited the scene of the disaster to day. As to the cause of the accident all is as yet enveloped in doubt. There are many theories, the prevailing one being carelessness and negligence on the part of the employees of the railroad. EXPLOSION IN A POWDER MILL! One Hundred Persons Killed or Wounded ATHENS, August 27.—Additional par ticulars of the terrible explosion of the powder mill at Larnia, near this city, have been received. During a severe rain storm the mills were struck by lightning, causing a frightful explosion, the concussion of which was heard for many miles in every direction. Over one hundred persons em ployed at the mills were killed and wound ed, besides ninny women and children liv ing in the vicinity. The terrific concus sion so affrighted the inhabitants as to cause almost a complete abandonment of the town, the people fleeing for safety in all directions. The destructien to property is immense, the loss being estimated at £500,000 sterling. NO. 35. ANOTHER SHOCKING DISASTER ! Explosion of a Boiler 'on an Excursion Boat—Over Fifty People Killed and Wounded. MOBILE, ALA., August 28.—The low pressure steamer Ocean Wave exploded her boiler at 5:30 o'clock Sunday afternoon, at Point Clear wharf. About 200 excursion ists were on board, and fifty to sixty were killed and wounded. A portion of the bodies were brought to the city by the steamers Fountain and Annie last night. The others will be brought to-day. Efforts are beino• ' made for the recovery of the drowned. The cause of the disaster was not ascertained. An investigation will be made. Of one Creole family, consisting of seven persons, six were killed. The cap tain, engineer and pilot were killed. Only three officers escaped. The Mobile Register furnishes the fol lowing account: The steamer Ocean Wave a low pres sure be fit IPftfhis eitv on Sully awning with about two hundred persons aboard, for an excursion to Fish river, about twen ty miles Iron, this city. On her return she stopped at Point Clear, reaching there about five o'clock, P. Pc The boat was made fast to the dock and a part' of the passengers went ashore. After remaining there half an hour, the whistle was blown, and the passengers that had landed were just goinr , e aboard when the boiler explo ded with great force, preceded by a rum bling, hissing sound. Fragments of lumber and metal flew in every direction, the for ward part of the boat- and cabin being car ried completely away. The chimney fell backwards toward the rear of the boat, smashing the upper cabin, and the boat immediately sunk, with her bow submer ged. About sixty or seventy persons were killed or injured by the explosion.. So. far, the bodies of nineteen dead, including eight ladies, have been recovered. Twenty eight wounded have been brought to the city, and one of the number, a little girl, has since died. The scene was appalling, terriffic, and heartrending. Wilder scenes of grief were seldom witnessed. The frantic cries of the survivors, the lamentations for lost wives, children, parents, sisters, and broth ers were agonizing to all who had human sympathies. Many of the passengers were _little children, and little hats and bonnets came ashore to tell the fate of their little victims beneath the waves: The captain, William Eaton, swam some time with both legs broken, and those attempting to save him bad almost reached him when he went down. The two pilots were killed. The engineer and his wife were severely injured and all the firemen killed. It is impossi ble to correctly estimate the loss. By some it is supposed that at least thirty or forty persons are still buried in the debris of the wreck or at the bottom of the bay. A diver has gone to the scene of disaster. The accident has cast a gloom over the whole city, and universal sadness prevails. The streets are crowded and the feeling of excitement is intense. The Ocean Wave has been for some time considered unsafe, and the boat 'has - always been an unlucky one. A crminal responsibility rests some where and it should be visited upon those to whose recklessness and incapacity it is attributable. The system of . inspection everywhere is loose, careless and reckless, The boiler was not so much exploded as it was torn open at a seam. - It was so rot ten as to literally tear open. Had it been stronger so as to have exploded with great er violeno3 the destruction world have been greater. The force of the explosion was upward and forward. ANOTHER HORROR! Frightful Jlecideni near Westport, Pa.— Tiro Trains (follicle—Large NUM ber of Killed and Wounded. On Saturday morning about half past eight o'clock an accident of the most fright ful character occurred two miles from Westport, on the middle division of the Philadelphia and Erie railroad, the Erie mail north colliding with the Empire freight and badly wrecking the trains, be sides killing and wounding a large number of persons. Although we made diligent inquiry in this city of those to whom is generally conveyed the news of railroad accidents we failed to get any particulars of the terrible affair. Neither• could wo obtain from them the names of any of the victims of the slaughter. What imforma tion we publish this morning is deprived from other sourcos—passengers and cor respondence. According to the most relia ble authority the conductor and engineer of the Erie mail—E. W. Hyman, of Wil liamsport, and M'Cormick—R. C. Brown and a 31 \ r. Winslow, of Lock Ha ven, Mr, Ward, of Bellefonte, and Mr. Rubright, of St. Marys, Elk county, were killed, and William Killinger, engineer of the freight engine, seriously wounded. Another report says that the conductors, engineers and firemen of both trains, as well as the baggage master of the mail, were killed. According to one account seven persons lost their lives and sixteen or eighteen were wounded. Another places the killed at eleven and the wounded at It is a matter of the utmost difficulty to procure any information of catastrophies like the above at the railroad offices in this city, and consequently we are obliged to give currency to what has been obtained through other and less reliable sources. MARINE DISASTER. Wreck of the Steamer Lodona—Twen ty Lives Lost. Reports from St. Augustine, Fla., an nouncing the foundering of the steamship Lodona are, without doubt, correct. The dispatch roceived by C. H. Mallory & Co., the agents of the steamer, is so definite that no hopes are entertained for her safety.— Yesterday many thought that some heart less wretch had perpetrated a hoax, and that, as in the case of the Henry Chaun cey, a denial would follow the original re port. Such, however, is not the case. The Lodona left her dock at pier No. 21, East river, bound for New Orleans, with an as sortment of merchandise and one passenger, Mrs. Caroline Conway. Her crew must have numbered thirty men, including the officers. Captain W. tt. Hovey, her com mander and part owner, also took with him his youngest son, a lad thirteen years of age. After leaving port nothing was heard of her until Thursday evening, when the following dispatch was received : ST. AUnUSTINE, Aug. 23.—The Lodona was wrecked seventy-five miles south.— Twenty persons drowned ; mess boy picked up yesterday; he brought the news; a to tal wreck. The survivors are tho captain's son, first and second mates, chief engineer, first assistant engineer, foreman, four sail ors, head cook and mess boy.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers