The Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1871-1904, September 06, 1871, Image 1

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    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.