VOL. 47
The Huntingdon Journal.
J. R. DURBORROW,
PUBLISHERS ♦ND PROPRIETORS
O f fice on the Corner of Bath and Washington streets.
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Professional Cards.
CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law,
D•No. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied
by Messrs. Woods et Williamson. [apl2,ll.
DR. R. R. WIESTLING,
respectfully offers his professional services
to the citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity.
(Mae removed to No. 61Si Hill street, (Sutra's
Beicomo.) [apr.s;7l-Iy.
DR. J. C. FLEMMING respectfully
offers his professional services to the citizens
of Huntingdon and vicinity. Office second floor of
Cunningham's building, on corner of 4th and Hill
Street. may 24.
DR. D. P. MILLER, Office on Hill
street, in the room formerly occupied by
Dr. John M'Cullooh, Huntingdon, Pa., would res
pectfully offer his professional services to the °M
iens of Huntingdon and vicinity. pan. 4,71.
D R. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his
professional services to the community.
Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door east
a the Catholio Parsonage. [jan.4,'7l.
EJ. GREENE, Dentist. Office g i ,-
• moved to Leister'e new building, Hill edit
V--ttingdon. [jan.4,7l.
fa L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
VI • Br.. wn's new building, No. 520, Hill St.,
Huntingdon, Pa. (ap12,'71.
GLAZIER, Notary Public, corner
TT
• or Washington and Smith streets, Hun
tiygdon, Pa. Dan. 1271.
C. MADDEN, • Attorney-at-Law
- Pr
• Moe, No. —, 11111 acne, Huntingdon,
P. [ap.19,'71.
SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at
c, • Law, Huntingdon, Ps. Office, Hill street,
throe doorswest of Smith. [jan.4'7l.
R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth
r.." • scary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun
tingdon, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded.
Pure Liquors for Medicinal purposes. (n0v.23,70.
JHALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law,
• No. 318 Hill it., Huntingdon, Pa. Dan.4,'7l.
R. DURBORROW, Attorney-at-
T• Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practice in the
several Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular
attention given to the settlement of estates of dece
.dente.
°Mae in ha JOURNAL Building. [feb.l,'7l
JA. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real
• Estate Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend
to Surveying in all its branches. Will also buy,
sell, or rent Farms, Houses, and Real Estate of ev
ery kind, in any part of the United States. Send
for a oiroular. jan.47l.
j W. MATTERN Attorney-at-Law
co
• and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa.,
Soldiers' claims against the Government for back
ply, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend
ed to with great oars and promptness.
Oboe on Hill street. Dan.4,'7l.
- pr ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at
. • Law, Huntingdon Pa. Special attention
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prosecuted with fidelity and dispatch.
r Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton
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1310 M. & M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys
-A- • at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend to
all kinds of legal business entrusted to their care.
Office on tho south side of Hill street, fourth door
west of Smith. Dan.4,'7l.
RA. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law,
. Office, 321 Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa.
[may3l,'7l.
JOHN SCOTT. B. T. BROWN. J. B. BAILST
QCOTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At
torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions,
and all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against
the Government will be promptly prosecuted.
Office on Hill street. [jan.4,7l.
W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, "Inn
• tingdon, Pa. Mee with J. Sewell Stewart,
Esq. [jan.4,'7l.
'WILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney
at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention
given to collections, and all other legal business
attended to with care and promptness. Office, Nu.
229, Hill street. [ap
Miscellaneous
EXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon,
Pa. JOIIN 8. MILLER, Proprietor.
Joottary 4, 1871.
NEAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT,
COR. WAYNE sn , l JUNIATA STREETT
UNITED STATES HOTEL,
HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA
M'CLAIN & CO., PROPRIBTORS
ROBT. KING, Merchant Tailor, 412
Washington street, Huntingdon, Pa., a lib
eral share of patronage respectfully solicited.
A prill2, 1871.
LEWISTOWN BOILER WORKS.
SNYDER, WEIDNER & CO., Menem,
urers of Locomotive and Stationary Boilers, Tanks,
Pipes, Filling-Barrows for Furnaces, and Sheet
Iron Work of every description. Works on Logan
street, Lewistown, Pa.
All orders n-^-inlly attended to. Repairing
done at short [Aor
W. T. HOWARD,
MORRISON HOUSE,
OPPOSITE PENNSYLVANIA It. R. DEPOT
HUNTINGDON, PA
HOWARD A CLOVER, Prop'e.
April 5, 1871-Iy.
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on
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We used to think it was so queer
To see him in his thin, gray hair
Sticking our pens behind his ear.
And straight forgetting they were there.
We used to think it was so strange
That he should twist such hair to curls,
And that his wrinkled cheek should change
Its color like a bashful girl's.
Our foolish mirth defied all rule,
As glances, each of each, we stole,
The morning that he wore to school
A rosebud in his buttonhole.
And very sagely we agreed
That such a dunce was never known—
Fifty ! and trying still to read
Love verses with a tender tone !
No joyous smile would ever stir
Our sober looks, we often said,
If we were but a school master,
And had, withal, hie old, white head.
One day we cut his knotty staff
Nearly in two, and each and all
Of us declared that we should laugh
To see it break and let him fall.
Upon his old pine desk we drew
His picture—pitiful to see,
Wrinkled and bald—half false, half true,
And wrote beneath it—twenty-three I
Next day came eight o'clock and nine,
But he came not ; our pulses quick
With play, we said it would be fine
if the old schoolmaster were sick.
And still the beach trees bear the scars
Of wounds which we that morning made,
Cutting their silver bark to stars
Whereon to count the games we played.
At last, as tired as we could be,
Upon a claybank, strangely still,
We sat down in a row to see
'His worn-out coat come up the hill.
•
'Twas hanging on a peg—a quill
Notched down, and sticking in the band,
And leaning against his arm chair still,
A dead rose in the button-hole.
But he no more might take his place
Our lessons and our lives to plan I
Cold death had kissed the wrinkled face
Of that most gentle gentleman.
And all, sad women now, and men
With wrinkles and gray hairs; can soe
How he might wear a rosebud then,
And read love-versee tenderly.
The Gipsy Queen.
"MURDER !-1191p !. 7 9h, help !"
How sharp and fearfully distinct was the
cry as it rang out on the midnight air !
But there was none to hear it, except the
two ruffians, who, pressing still closer to
their victim, bore him heavily to the
ground.
"He is dead !" said the oldest one, dis
mounting and placing his hand upon the
heart of the wounded man, who lay upon
the ground without sense or motion.
"We had better make sure of it," said
the other. significantly pointing to the
river at a short distance.
His companion understood him, and
without a word on either side, they Met:
up the body and carried it to the river.
There was a heavy splash, followed like
something that sounded like a stifled groan,
and the broad waters rippled quietly over
it—the moon, emerging from behind a
cloud, looked down as calmly and p.aeidly
as if crime and murder were a thing un
known. The two men then mounted their
horses and rode swiftly away.
"This is a good night's job," said the
shorter and younger of the two.
"I should judge so," returned the other,
dryly, "as it gives you one of the richest
earldom's in England."
"Ay, and by toy knightly faith you shall
find that the Earl of Elrington is not un
grateful. The thousand pieces of gold
shall be yours to-morrow, and if there is
anything else I can do for you, you may
command me to the fullest extent of my
power."
"There will be a merry bridal to-mor
row."
Very !" replied the younger one, with
a light, mocking laugh. "Lsdy Blanche
will wait long at the altar for her lover—
and as for wy good cousin Walter, who
has been my rival in love and ambition,
I'll warrant he'll sleep sound enough to
night! But we must separate here," he
added as they emerged from the forest in
to the open country. -We must not be
seen together. Adieu. We shall meet to
morrow at the bridal."
WITII
So saying, he turned the head of his
horse into one of the two roads that were
before them, and his companion taking the
other they parted.
* * * * * *
In an elegant boudoir, partly reclining
upon a low couch, was a fair young girl of
not more than eighteen summers, apparent
ly in a deep reverie. Her thoughts were
very pleasant, fur there was a half smile
around her mouth, and an expression of
thoughtful and subdued tenderness in the
deep blue eyes and on the smooth open
brow. An elderly woman who had entered
some minutes before, but had hesitated to
disturb her, uw approached.
"It is nearly ten, Lady Blanche," she
said, addressiug her young mistress. "Iu
half an hour the guests will be here."
BUSINESS CARDS,
"Can it be iissible that it is so late as
that ?" she replied, starting from her seat.
"Ah, Mina, Mina, I am so very, so very
taPPY !"
"Heaven grant that your happiness may
last, my lady !" said Mina, solemnly.
A shadow fell across the young girl's
sunny face.
"1 am afraid lam too happy for it to
last," she said, thoughtfully. "But come,
Mina," she added gaily, "your skillful fin
gers must be more than usual nimble, or I
shall be late, and at my bridal, too."
It did not take Mina long to loop back
these clustering curls, and to arrange tne
shining folds that fell so gracefully around
that exqltisitely moulded form, yet she had
hardly finished when there came an impa
tient knock at the door, and a man entered
whose bowed form and white hair bore the
the impress of extreme old age. It was
Lord Vernon. He gazed upon his daughter
for a moment with an expression of min
gled pride and pleasure.
"Heaven bless you, my beloved child !"
he murmured fondly. "But come," he
added, "the carriage is waiting, my love,
and our friends are growing impatient."
"Has not Walter come yet, father ?"
"No. It is rather strange, but I suppose
something has detained him. He will
probably meet us at the church."
As Lady Blanche passed down through
the group of menials that lined the hall,
all anxious to catch a glimpse of the bride,
many a heart blessed her sweet face, and
prayed that all the bright anticipations its
smiles and blushes shadowed forth might
be realized.
CONCERT TICKETS,
LEGAL BLANKS,
PAMPHLETS,
To Lord Vernon's surprise the Earl of
Elrington was not at the church door when
Eikeigloo' gram
Our Schoolmaster.
BY ALICH CAGY.
Zbt At M-`
_,_
HUNTINGDON, PA
they arrived. His brow grew dark with
anxiety, though he endeavored to al.ay the
apprehensions of his daughter,whose cheeks
alternately flushed and paled at her em
barrassing position.
Just as they were about to return Lord
Vernon noticed a horseman approaching at
a furious pace, whom he recognized as Ja
s•m St. Croix, the young earl's cousin. His
clothes were torn and crusty, and his face
pale and haggard. as he hurriedly alighted
from his horse, which was literally covered
with foam.
As his eyes fell upon L•idy Blanche he
hesitated, and, casting a significant glance
upon Lord Vernon, beckoned him aside.
But this movement did not escape the ob
servation of Lady Blanche, whose cheek
grew pale with fear.
. . . .
"It' is from Walter !" she exclaimed,
breaking from her attendants, and follow
ing her father. "Tell nie," she added,
wildly, addressing Jason St. Croix, "is he
ill—dead ?"
'Be calm, my dear child," said Lord
Vernon, soothingly, whose countenance be
trayed great agitation; "the young earl is
nut dead, only missing. It is to be hoped
he will yet be found."
Lady Blanche made no reply, but fell
pale and gasping into her father's arms,
who quickly conveyed her to the carriage.
Many of the bystanders clustered around
Jason St. Croix, anxious to know the cause
of this strange scene. From the narration
he gave they gathered that the earl had
disappeared, no one knew whither. That
there was no clue to his fate, excepting his
horse, which came home a few minutes af
ter midnight. with dark stains upon his
breast and sides.
The grief and horror with which Jason
St. Croix narrated these circemstances
produced a very favorable impression upon
those who heard him, ter he was next of
kin to the late earl, and upon his deat
would come into possession of the exten
sive lands and earldom of Elrmgton.
* * * * * *
"My child," :aid Lord Vernon. a few
months after, while in close and earnest
conference with his daughter, •"I would
not urge you to take this step were I not
assured that it would result in your ulti
mate hapyiriess."
"I do not doubt it, father," said Lady
Blanche, languidly. "But somehow the
very thought repulsive to me. I never
liked Jason St. Croix, and cannot say that
my opinion of him has changed since his
accession to his new honors. There is to
me something treacherous and cruel in the
very glance of his eye and the sound of
his voice."
"You are prejudiced, my daughter; I
see nothing of this. Indeed, I believe him
to be an honorable man, in every respect
worthy of you. You have no brother,"
added Lord Vernon, solemnly, as his daugh
ter made no reply, "and will soon have no
father, for my race is nearly run. It grieves
me to leave you so unprotected, and it
would take the last sting from death could
I see you the earl's wife."
"Let it be as you say father," replied
Lady Blanche, indifferently. "Since Wal
ter is dead, I care little what becomes of
me."
"The earl has been waiting for some
time to see you, Blanche ; may he come in
and receive your consent from your own
lips 'I"
Lady Blanche inclined her head. And
in a few momenta the wily man was by her
side.
"I have no heart to give you," she said,
in reply to his earnest protestations, lifting
her eyes calmly to his face, "but my hand
is yours whenever you choose to claim it."
'•lf the most devotedand tender love can
win your heart, it cannot fail to be mine
dear lady," said St. Croix, softly.
"Nay, my lord," said Lady Blanche firm
ly, -•it will avail little. All the heart that
I have is t'uried in Sir. Walter's grave.
Yet I promise that all I can give you shall
be yours any day you name.'
Jason St. Croix murmured a few words
of thanks, then, rasing her hand respect
fully to his lips, turned away, and, mount
ing his horse, rode rapidly towards Eking
ton Castle, his heart full of exultation at
his success.
As he was passing through a narrow de
file a form wrapped in a large cloak sud
denly crossed his path, startling his horse
so that he nearly threw him from the sad
del. With a muttered imprecation he
turned towards the intruder.
"It is I, Jason St. Croix !" said a deep,
hollim voice.
The cloak was tarown back, and the pale
light of the moon tell upon the tall from of
a woman, clad in a strange, fantastic attire.
Her flashing eyes were black as midnight,
as ale, was the he ivy mass of disordered
hair that fell below her waist, and her com
plexion dirk even to swarthiness. Yet, in
spite of her weird, unearthly aspect, there
was something in the general contour of
her face which showed that she-had once
possessed more than common beauty.
"Anielle !" exclaimed St. Croix :atom
isbed.
"Nay, Jason," said the womau, with a
low, bitter laugh, "not the loving and
trustful Ardelle Silencia, whom you lured
by your vile arts from her happy home,
but the gipsy queen! "
"I—l thought—"
"You are talking at random, woman,"
said St. Croix, sternly, recovering in a
measure his self-possession, "What is it that
you want of me—money ?"
"Not for worlds would I touch your
gold, Jason St. Croix," exclaimed the gip
sy queen, with a haughty gesture; "red
as it is with the blood of the innocent!
No, I came to warn you, man, that the cup
of vengeance is nearly full, that the sword
of justice is ready, even now, to descend
upon your head ! Go, and instead of ful
filling the wicked purposa that is in your
heart, mount your fleetest steed and escape
into some far country, and t6re by a life
of penitence strive to retrieve the past P
"Are you mad, woman, to address such
language to me ?" exclaimed St. Croix,
angrily.
••Nay, hear me out. Jason," exclaimed
the Gipsy queen, calmly. "To-morrow is
to be your bridal day, is it not—it is to
witness your marriage with the beautiful
Rose of glen Valley, Lady Blanche Ver
non ?"
"It is," replied her companion, a grim
smile of satisfaction flitting across his face
at the recollection.
"Woe to the dove when it mates with
the kite ! Jason St. Croix, was not the
earld of Elrington sufficient for thee that
thou must lay thy blood stained hands
upon the betrothed bride of thy murdered
cousin 7"
St. Croix fairly reeled upon his saddle.
"Say, woman, what mean you ?" hegasp.
"Nay, be calm, Jason," said the woman,
mockingly, us she observed his agitation.
"Let not thy craven heart fail thee now.
Dead men tell no tales! The moon that be
held that deed of blood, the river that re-
, JANUARY 3, 1872
ceived the body of thy victim has no
tongue to accuse ! Yet is there one whose
eyes were upon thee, and whose vengeance
will surely overtake thee ! lio !I warn thee
to flee from the wrath that is coming !"
Jason St. Croix remained for some
seconds with his eyes fixed intently upon
the spot where the woman disappeared.
Cold perspiration started out in large drops
upon his face, and his limbs shook as if
he was seized with ague fit.
".-..he is no woman," he muttered to
himself, as he spurred his horse onward,
'she is a very fiend ! But were she twice
the fiend that she is, she should not stand
between me and my promised bride !"
He reached Elrington castle in safety,
and endeavored to drown all recollection of
the scene through which he had just pass
ed by large draughts of wine. But it was
in vain ; those black eyes seemed to be
burning into his very soul, and the tones
of that strange, mysterious warning still
sounded in his ears.
"Phaw 1" he exclaimed, after an in
effectual effort to banish it from his mind,
"it is a mere suspicion on her part ; she
can know nothing about it. But let her,
too, beware; for, by Heaven, if she cross
my path again, I will send her where her
babbling tongne will keep quiet for the
future !"
Once more Lord Vernon's castle is all
bustle and activity. The bells ring forth a
merry peal, for it is the bridal day of the
sole daughter of his house, and heiress on
all his wealth; Lady Blanche, the Rose of
Glen Valley.
A murmur of mingled pity and admire-
Lim Lied the church as the bride entered.
Her face was almost as pale as was the
costly veil whose ample folds fell nearly to
her feet, and it bore the impress of deep
seated melancholy. She looked more like
a corpse than a bride, and the whole pro
ceeding resembled far more a funeral than
a merry bridal. The bridegroom entered,
and his haggard countenance indicated
that be had passed a sleepless night.
No applause followed his entrance, even
among his own retainers, for he bore no
resemblance to the late earl, his predeces
sor, whose affable and engaging manners
bad made him a general favorite. His
morose, unsocial disposition and haughty
bearing rendered him both disliked and
feared.
As he took his place by the side of Lady
Blanche he looked little like a joyful bride
groom ; his manner was abstracted, and
his eye wore an anxious and restless ex
pression, and several times he gave a sharp
hurried glance around the church, as if
fearing to meet some unexpected guest.
He grew calmer, however, when the cer
emony commenced.
When the priest arose and bade those
"who saw any just cause why this man
and woman should not be joined in the
bonds of holy wedlock, to declare it now,
or forever hold their peace," it was consid
ered by those who beard it as a mere mat
ter of form, and they were startled by the
sound of a deep hollow voice in their midst,
which said :
"Hold! I forbid the marriage !"
The bridegroom turned toward the place
whence it proeeded. He started, grew
pale, as his glance fell upon the swarthy
brow and flashing eyes of the gipsy
Unabashed by his angry glance, or the
many eyes fixed upon her, she exclaimed
boldly :
"fproclaim Jason St. Croix, falsely call
ed Earl of Elrington, to be a foresworn
lover, a false knight, a treacherous and
cruel kinsman, and a murderer, and there
fore no fitting mate for the pure and gen
tle Lady Blanche Vernon."
'•lt is false ! She is mad !" said St. Croix,
hoarsely. "Let the ceremony proceed."
"Silence I" commanded the woman; "you
rush on your own destruction. Walter,
Earl of Elrington," she added, impressively
turning towards a man who sat in the
back part of the church muffled up in a
large cloak, °•come forward and prove the
truth of my assertion."
At these words the man arose, and,
throwing back the cloak, revealed a face
which, though pale and ghastly, bore a
strong resemblance to the young earl's.
Then walking deliberately up the aisle, he
approached the altar and fixed his eyes
stearnly on the countenance of the guilty
man.
When Jason St. Croix's dyes fell upon
him, he stood like one transfixed with hor
ror. Then throwing his arms wildly
above his head as to protect himself from
his nearer approach, he fell heavily to the
Hour, blood gushing from his mouth and
nostrils.
All but one among that horrorstricken
group supposed it to be the ap.rit of the
unfortunate man, who had returned to take
vengeance on his murderer, and feared to
approach him. But Lady Blanche, rush
ing forward, threw herself wildly on the
bosom of her lover, obtaining convincing
proof' as she did so, from the warm kisses
that fell upon her cheeks and lips that it
was no spirit, but her own dear Walter.
When they lifted Jason St. Croix from
the place where he had &ken they found
that life had departed, he had ruptured a
large blood vessel.
It seems that the wounds given to the
young earl were not, as his assailants sup
posed, mortal. His plunge into the river,
instead of rendering his death certain, re
stored him to consciousness, and when he
arose to the surface ' he made a desperate
effort to regain the shore. In this he
would not probably have been successful,
for he was very weak from the loss of blond,
had it not been for the gipsy queen, who
was crossing the river in a boat with some
of her followers. She picked him up, and,
conveying hiin to her tent, nursed him with
the must devoted and tender care, through
the long and dangerous illness that fol
lowed.
The earl became aware, on his recovery,
of his cousin's usurpation of his estates
and title, also of his betrothal to Lady
Blanche, but, retaining a grateful sense of
his indebtedness to the heroic woman to
whom he owed his life, who, in spite of all,
still cherished a strong affection for his
treacherous cousin, he allowed her to warn
him, hoping that it would induce him to
fl.!e the country, delaying for that purpose
his appearance until the last moment.
There was another bridal day appointed,
at which there were happy and smiling
faces; upon which day Lady Blanche, the
beautiful Rose of Glen Valley, gave her
hand to Walter, earl of Elrington ; she
had long since given him her heart, and he
was well worthy of both. . .
Both the earl and countess tried to in
duce the gipsy queen to settle down in
the neat pleasant cottage the earl had given
her. But they could nut prevail upon her
to give up her raving life, to which she
was strongly attached. She made it a rule,
however, to visit the Elrington manors as
often as once a year, and the earl gave
strict injunctions to all of his tenants that
neither she nor her followers should be
molested at these times.
ger the guilt gin,,,.
A Good Reputation to Have
The little story I am going to tell you
happened just before the war, when every
one was very, very busy. Soldiers were
enlisting and going away from almost eve
ry home in the laud.
One younc , '
man had volunteered and
was expected to be daily ordered to the
seat of war. One day his mother gave him
an unpaid bill with money tol3ay it. When
he returned hone at night, she said, "Did
you pay the bill ?"
"Yes,"
he answered.
In a few days the bill was sent in a
second time. "I thought," she said to
her son, "that you paid this."
"I really do not remember, mother; yon
know I have had so many things on my
"But you said you did."
"Well," he answered, "if I said I did,
I did."
He went away, and his mother took the
bill herself to the store. The young man
had been known in the town all his life,
and what opinion was held of him this
will show.
"I am quite sure," she said, 'that my
son paid this some days ago; has been ve
ry busy since, and has quite forgotten
about it; but he told me that day he han,
and says that if he said then that he had,
he is quite sure he did."
"Well," said the man, "I forget about
it; but if ever he said he did, he did."
Wasn't that a grand character to have ?
Having once said a thing, that was enough
to make others believe it, whether he re
membered it or not.
I wish all the boys in our land were
sure of as good a reputation.
A Noble Clerk,
The following was related by Rev. De
Witt Talmage, in an address before the
Boston Young Men's Christian Associa
tion:
A lady called at a certain store in the
city, some years ago, and said to the
clerk :
"Have you Lancastershire cloths ?"
"We have an article that we think as
good as Lancastershire cloths."
"But not of English manufacture ?"
"No." _
The lady left the store.
The merchant quickly stepped to the
clerk's counter.
"What did that lady want ?"
"Lancastershire cloths."
"What did you tell her ?"
"That we had goods that we thought as
good as Lancastershire cloths.'.:
"Why did you not tell her that they
were Lancastershire cloths."
"Because they were not Lancastershire
cloths."
"I have no further need of your servi
ces. You can go to the book•keeper's
desk and receive the wages due up to to
day."
The young man left the store, his moral
character unstained.
He was a pour man then, almost friend
less and unnoticed. To-day he is a man
of position and influence, one of the grand
moral men of Ohio.
A Little Boy's Prayer.
More than thirty years ago a goodly
minister, illustrating the efficacy of prayer,
related the case of a little boy with a sore
hand, which had become so bad that the
physician decided it mast be amputated to
save the boy's life. The day was fixed for
the operation.
On hearing this, the little boy went to
a retired spot in the garden, fell on his
knees, and begged God for Jesus' sake to
save his poor hand.
The next day the physician came and
examined the hand, when to the astonish
ment of all, it was found to be so much
better that amputation was unnecessary.
The hand got quite well again, the little
boy grew up to be a man, "and," contin
ued the minister, holding up his hand.
"this unworthy hand can now be shown
to you as a monument of prayer answered
through divine mercy."
Drunk but Once
"You have but five minutes to live,"
said the sheriff. "If you have anything
to say, speak now." The young man burst
into tears, and said : "I have to die. I
had one little brother. He had beautiful
blue eyes and flaxen hair, and I loved him.
But one day I got drunk, for the first time
in my life, and coming home I found my
little brother getting berries in the garden,
and I became angry without a cause, and
killed him with one blow of the rake. I
did not know anything about it until next
morning, when I awoke and found myself
bound and guarded, and was told that my
little brother was found, his hair clotted
with blood and brains, and he was dead.—
Whisky had done it. It had ruined me.
I never was drunk but once. I have only
one more word to say, and then I am go
ing to my Judge. I say to young per
sons : Never, never, NEVER touch anything
that can intoxicate," In another moment
the young man was ushered into eternity.
Don't be Like a Lobster,
The lobster, when left high and dry
among the rocks, has not sense enough to
work his way back to the sea, but waits
foi the sea to come to him. If it does not
come, he remains where he is, and dies,
although a little effort would enable him
to reach the waves, which are, perhaps,
tumbling within a few feet of him.
There is a tide in human affairs that
sometimes cast men into "dry places," and
leaves them there like a *randed lobster.
If they choose to lie where the breakers
have flung them, expecting some grand
billow to take them on its shoulders and
carry them into prosperity, it is not likely
that their hopes will be realized. Nor is
it right that they should be. You must
not expect others to help you till you try
to help yourself.
Five Steps to the Gallows
A man had committed murder, was
tried, found guilty, and condemned to be
hanged. A few days before his execution,
upon the walls of his prison, he drew a
gallows with five steps leading up to it.
On the first step he wrote, Disobedience
to parents.
On the second step, Sabbath breaking.
. .
. On the third step: Gambling and drink.
enness.
On the fourth step, Murder.
Boys, heed the lesson ; avoid these four
steps, that you may never stand convicted
on the fifth, which is the fatal platform.
giu Nu o' Tufiget.
Simon's Wife's Mother,
A countryman was in New York on an
August Sunday, and crossed the Brooklyn
Ferry in the morning for the purpose of
hearing Beecher. But 10, the Plymouth
pulpit was occupied by a stranger, who
delivered a tedious, common-place sermon
from the text : "And behold Simon's wife's
mother lay sick with a fever." Mr. Beech
er was away taking.his vacation.
In the afternoon the man sought to
console himself for his morning's disap
pointment by listening to E. H. Chapin.
He was shown to a front seat by the sex
ton of E. H. Chapin's church, and in due
time was horrified to see the minister of
the morninc , c appear in the pulpit. The
poor victim heard for the second time the
sermon from the text, "And behold Si
mon's wife's mother lay sick with a fe
ver," and went out of the sacred place
very much discouraged. Mr. Chapin was
out taking his summer vacation.
In the evening the man, thinking to re
deem, in a measure, the defeat of the day.
accepted a choice sitting in the Reformed
Church, for the sake of hearing the genial,
eloquent and scholarly Bethune. But his
heart broke when the evil spirit that had
possessed him all day got up and gave out
a hymn. And then the text was an
nounced, "And Simon's wife's mother lay
sick with a fever," the party who knew
all about the subject rushed wildly from
the overdose, and ran to his hotel. Dr.
Bethune was taking his summer vacation.
The next morning the man took the first
train for home, and stepping into the car,
there was his ministerial friend of the day
before, with his sermon under his arm.
The New York bells were ringing a fire
alarm, and 'says the minister to his lay
brother, "Friend, do thee know what those
bells are tolling for ?" Says the country
man looking hard at the parson, "I don't
know; but I shouldn't wonder if Simon's
wife's mother was dead. I heard three
times yesterday that she was down with
the fewer."
Don't take a Newspaper,
A friend of ours returning from church
stepped into a neighbor's and found the
mistress of the house scrubbing.
"Where have you been ?" asked the
scrubber.
"At church."
"Not to-day were you ?"
"I go to church every Sabbath. But
why are you scrubbing ?"
"Is this Sunday ? Wall I never ! I
didn't know ! Here, Sal, clean up the floor.
I told John that !"
Things being hastily arranged the un
intentional violator of the Sabbath sat
down.
"What was the subject of the discourse?"
"He spoke of the blessings of peace and
blithing effects of war; he referred to the
war in Europe, and the lives lost and the
misery caused by it."
"War in Europe ! Did I ever ! A war !
Who's fighting ?"
"France and Germany."
"La me! It's too bad Here's Sunday,
and I didn't know it; here's a war in Eu
rope, and I didn't know it ! And all be
eause"—here she leaned toward her vis
itor and whispered"—John don't take the
JOURNAL !"
"A too common complaint," said the
visitor as he came away.
IF a young lady wished a young gentle
man to kiss her, what papers would she
mention ? No &Spectator, no Observer,
but as many Times you as like.
We wish to add that she would like it
done with Dispatch, 'no Register or Journ
al kept of it, and for him not to Herald
it, or mention it to a Recorder, nor (Aron
kle it abroad. Her lips should be the on
ly Repository, and the Sun should be ex
cluded as much as possible. Should a
Messenger get it, the World would soon
know it, for News are now carried by. Tel
egraph where it was formerly done by the
Courier, who was always ready to Gazette
it. In the act, the Press upon her lips
should be light and the Union perfect—
that is our Standard of kissing—first as
suring ourselves that no ..11rgu.s eye is upon
us, an the only Reflector present the Mir
ror.
MUSICAL NOTES.—Never drum on the
piano, as it is very offensive to the drum
of the ear. •
If you find the piano is not your forte;
try some other instrument—the jewsharp
or triangle, for instance.
Avoid organ swells—they put on airs.
When you play upon the organ, mind
your stops.
Accompany vocalists often, providing
they do not go on a long journey.
Always stick to the right pitch ; if you
area violinist, make your own fiddlestick.
You cannot catch fish without a clarinet,
nor get any marrow out of a trom-hone.
The conductor of an orchestra should
be a fast man—able to beat time.
A CERTAIN clergyman of Vermont, a
few years since, visited NeW York, and
was invited to fill a city pulpit. He had
never had the privilege of listening to a
,church organ, and was unacquainted with
the fashion of hiring a few to do the sing
ing. Giving out his first hymn, the or
ganist playing a fancy prelude, and in the
highest style of the art rendered the hymn.
Addressing the throne of grace in a man
ner that stamped him as a man of intel
lect and power, he coolly re-opened the
hymn-book, and said : "The audience will
now join with me in singing a good old
Methodist hymn l and those persons run
ning that bag of wind in the gallery will
please not interrupt."
A MAN who had recently been chosen
sergeant of volunteers, and who was not
overburdended with brains, took it into
his head, on the morning of parade, to ex
ercise a little by himself. The field select
ed for the purpose was his back shop.
Placing himself in a military attitude, with
his sword drawn, he exclaimed : "Atten
tion ! rear rank, three paces, march !" and
he tumbled down into the cellar. His
wife hearing the racket, came running in,
saying : "My dear, have you killed your
self ?" "Go about your business, woman,"
said the hero; "what do you know about)
war ?"
'AVEn you the 'Lays of the Last Min
strel ?' " said a city miss, addressing a
young man who stood behind the counter
of a country store.
"No, we haven't any of them kind,"
said the clerk ; "but we have good fresh
hen's eggs, that we warrant were laid this
week."
The conjunctive mood—Thoughts of
matrimony.
NO. 1.
Bbt
My Darling's Shoes.
God bless the little feet that can never goantray,
For the little chore are empty, in lily closet laid away,
I sometimes take one in my hand forgetting till I eels
It ie a little half-worn shoe,and much too entail for me;
And all at once I feel a erase of bitter lose and pain,
And sharp as when two years ago, it cut my heart in twain
Oh, little feet, that weary not, I wait for them no more,
For lam drifting on the tide, and they have reached the
shore ;
And, while the blinding teardrops wet these little hhots so
old,
I try to think my darling's feet are treading streets of gold;
And then I lay them down again, but always turn and say,
God blew the little feet that now sosnrley cannot stray.
And while I thus am standing I almost seem to see
The little form beside me, ttst as used to be ;
The little face uplifted, with its .ft and tender eyes—
Ah, me I I might have known that look was tarn for Par-
I reach my arms out fondly, but they clasp the empty air,
For there is nothing of my darling but the shoes he used to
Oh! the bitterness of parting cannot be done away
Until I meet my darling where his feet can never stray
When I no more am drifted upon the surging tide,
But with him safely landed upon the river side,
Be patient, heart! while waiting to see the shining way,
Fur the little feet in the shining street can nerergoastray.
Speak to the Lowly,
"Kind words never die," and a smile of
recognition or a kind word of encourage
ment to the poor or tempted, have a price
above rubies. Many a faint heart has
been strengthened and many a wanderer
reclaimed by no greater effort or expen.e
than this. We all love to be recognized
by name, and kindly greeted with a cordi
al grasp of the hand, and feel keenly any
alight or neglect, whether thoughtless or
intentional—much more hard words or con
temptuous sneers.
Jesus was a pattern of politeness as well
as of kindness and love, and when He re
proved it was tenderness. All who have
imbibed the spirit of Jesus will imitate
Him in seeking to avoid rudeness, and cul
tivate gentleness toward all.
A young man complained to the writer
that He had several times visited a certain
church, but nobody spoke to him or seem
ed to care who he was, or where he came
from, and he was led to seek more conge
nial society elsewhere, and it was the fault
of said church that hefound it in the saloon
or brothel. Pompous men who stalk past
the young and humble, and dainty laidies
who gather up their skirts as if fearing to
come in contact with calico, do more to
keep the poor from the house of God than
all the exhortations and invitations of the
pulpit can attract.
Providence Rightly Places Us.
Suppose the mole should cry, "How I
could have honored my Creator had I been
allowed to fly !" it would be very foolish,
for a mole flying would be a most ridic
ulous object; while a mole fashioning its
tunnels and casting up its castles, is view
ed with admiring wonder by the natur
alists who perceive its remarkable suit
ability to its sphere. The fish of the sea
might say, "How could I display the wis
dom of God if I could sing, or mount a
tree like a bird ;" but a dolphin in a tree
would be a very grotesque affair, and there
would be no wisdom of God to admire in
singing in the groves ; but when the fish
cuts the wave with agile fin, all who have
observed it say how wonderful it is adapted
to its habitation, how exactly its every bone
is fitted for its mode of life. Brother, it
is just so with you. If you begin to say,
"I cannot glorify God where I am, and as
I am, '•I answer could yon anywhere if not
where you are. Providence which arrang
ed your surroundings, appointed them so
that all things being considered, you are
in the position in which you can best dis
play the wisdom and the grace of God.
Family Worship
There ought to be no sweeter hour in
the day than that in which comes the
morning meal and family worship.' Yet it
is sorrowful to see what sometimes pules
for the latter. A chapter of the Bible
hurried through. a stereotyped prayer mum
I bled over, and the participants rush off to
the work which they have meanwhile
been thinking about, and which they en•
joy a great deal better. The exercise is
wrapped in fog, instead of being crowned
with heaven's light. It is a mistake to
suppose that fluency or education are spe
cially needed 4 conducting family worship.
It wants a heart most of all. Let there
not be a single petition that is not born of
desire—even if the prayer be not two
minutes long. Blessed be the home where
the spirit of song dwells and adds its
charm to the morning worship. The ex
ercises need not be long, but it should not
be crowded. Break up the formality ;
carry all the soul-life you have into it ;
and ita savor shall not go through the
day alone ; but among all the home mem
ories none shall be stronger to hold the
grown-up children to the faith of their
fathers.
The Natural State of Mari.
A musical amature of eminence, who
had often observed Mr. Cadogan's inat
tention tgdsis performances, said to him
one day,'"Come I cm determined to make
you feel the power of music, pay particular
attention to this piece." It was played_
"Well and what do yon say now ? Just
what I said before." "What can you hear
this and not be charmed ? I am surprised
at your insensibility? Where are your
ears !" "Bear with me, my lord," replied
Mr. Cadogan, "since I too have had my sur
prise ; I have from the pulpit set before
you most striking and affecting truths ; I
have found notes that might have awaken
ed the dead ; I have said, surely he will
feel now, but you never seemed charmed
with my music, though infinitely more in
teresting than yours. I too might have said
—"Where are his ears ?"
Man, until sovereign grace opens his
ears, is deaf to the heavenly harmonies of
the love of God in Christ Jesus, although
these are the ravishment of angels and the
wonder of eternity.•\
A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT.—When the
engineers would bridge a stream they often
carry over at first a single thread. With
that they next stretch a wire across, then
strand is added to strand, until a founda
tion is laid fbr planks ; and now the bold
engineer finds safe footway and walks from
side to side. So God takes from us some
golden-threaded pleasure, and stretches it
hence into heaven. Then he takes a child,
and then a friend. Thus he bridges death,
and teaches the thoughts of the most tim
id to find their way hither and thither be
tween the two spheres.
GOOD qualities areincomprehensible to
those who have them not.
BE praised not for your ancestors, but
for your own virtues.