VOL. 47
The Huntingdon Journal
J. It. DURBORROW,
PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS.
Office on the Corner of Bath rturl Waehington streets.
Ton livxvixsnox JOURNAL is published every
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JOB PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and
Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch.—
Hand-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every
variety and style, printed at the shortest notice,
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ted in the most artistic manner and at the lowest
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Professional Cards
11 - 1 CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law,
-A— , • No. 111, 21 street. Office formerly occupied
by Messrs. Woods & Williamson. [apl2,'7l.
DR. R. R. WIESTLING,
respectfully offers his professional services
to the citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity.
Office removed to No. OM Hill street, (Surrit's
Buittnxo.) [apr.s,'7l-Iy.
TIE. 3. C. FLEMMING respectfully
oTers 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. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his
professional services to the community.
Office, No. 52:1 Washington street, one door east
of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan.4,'7l.
T 7 J. GREENS, Dentist.
j 24• • moved to Leister's uewbuildi,
Jr,,tingdon,
CI L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
A—A • Brown's new building, No. 520, Hill St.,
Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2,'7l.
-per GLAZIER, Notary Public,. corner
• of Washington and Smith streets. Hun
tingdon, Pa. [jan.l2'7l.
TT C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law.
• Office, No. —, Hill street, Huntingdon,
[ap.19,11-
JSYLVANIIS BLAIR , Attorney-at
• Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office, Hill street,
hree doors west of Smith. Dan.47l.
R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth-
C 1 • ecary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun
tingdon, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded.
Pure Liquors for Medicinal purposes. [n0v.23,'70.
HALL MUSSEIt, Attorney-at-Law,
co • No. 319 Hill st., Huntingdon, Pa. [jan.4,7l.
j . R. DURBORROW, Attorney-at
e, • Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practice in the
several Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular
attention given to the settlement of estates of dece
dents.
Office in he JOURNAL Building. [feb.l,ll.
W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law
U • and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa.,
Soldiers' claims against the Government for back
pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend
ed to with great care and promptness
Office on Hill street
1Z - ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at
.`. • Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention
given to COLLECTIONS of all kinds; to the settle
ment of Estates, Ice.; and all other Legal Business
prosecuted with fidelity and dispatch.
_Aft. Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton
Speer, Esq. Ljan.4,'7l.
MILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at-
Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly
to all legal business. Office in Cunningham', new
building. [jan.4,'7l.
S. ALLISON MILLER. H.
MILLER & BUCHANAN,
DENTISTS,
No. 228 Hill Street,
HUNTINGDON, PA
April 5,'71-Ip.
M. & M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys
-a- • at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend to
all kinds of legal business entrusted to their care.
Office on the south side of Hill street, fourth door
west of 'Smith. [jan.4,'7l.
RA. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law
• Office, 321 Hill street, Hantingdon, Pa.
[maY2l,'7l.
JOHN SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. N. BAILEY
QCOTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At
t.-7 torneys.at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions,
and all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against
the Government will be promptly prosecuted.
Moe on Hill street. [jan.4,'7l.
W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun
• tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart,
Esq. [jan.4,'7l.
WILLIAM A. ITEMING, Attorney
at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention
given to collections, and all other legal business
attended to with care and promptness. Office, No.
229, Hill street. [apl9,'7l.
Miscellaneous.
EXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon,
Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor.
January 4, 1371.
COLORCOLORED PRINTING DONE AT
ED
the Journal Office, at Philadelphia prices
NEAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT,
COR. WAYNE and JUNIATA STREETT
UNITED STATES HOTEL,
HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA
& CO., Pnoenntrons
ROBT. KING, Merchant Tailor, 412
Washington street, Huntingdon Pa.. a lib
eral share of patronage respectfully nol isited.
A prill2, 1371.
L.EWISTOWN BOILER WORKS.
- 1 -4 SNYDER, WEIDNER k CO., Manufac
urers of Locomotiveand Stationary Boilers, Tanks,
Pipes, Filling-Barrows for Furnaces, and Sheet
Iron Work of every description. Works on Logan
street, Lewistown, Pa.
AR orders proertly attended to. Repairing
done at short [Apr 5,771,1 y..
AR. BECK, Fashionable Barber
. and Hairdresser, 11111 street, opposite the
Franklin House. All kinds of Tonics and Pomades
kept on hand and for sale. rap19,71-13m
GO TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE
...il For all kinds of printing.
The Huntingdon Journal.
No to' Armor.
Presentiments.
You call me sweet and tender names
And softly smooth my tresses:
And all the while my happy heart
Beats time to your earesscz,
You love me in your master way,
I answer—as you let me ;
But eh! there comes another day—
The day you will forget me.
I know that every fleeting hour
Is marked by thoughts I bring you ;
I know there dwells a subtle power
Is the old songs I sing you ;
I do mot fear the darkest way
With those dear arms about me.
Ah! no—l only dread the day
When you can live without me.
And still you call me tender names,
And softly smooth my tresses
And still my happy atuswering heart
Beats time to your caresses.
flush !—let me put that touch away
And clasp your hands above me.
Bo—while I ask to die that day,
The day you will not love me.
You need not check the thoughts that
With darkness wrapped about them,
For, gazing in your earned eyes,
My heart can almost doubt them;
Yet hush my whispers as you may,
Such ehidings do not fret me;
Ah, no !—I only dread the day—
The day you will forget me.
J
Zht eftoy-Zeilm
Pm ali[l TlifilliliE MIT.
BY BELLA FRENCII.
The night shadows were beginning to
settle down upon the earth. All day the
rain had been falling, sometimes in heavy
showers; the roses and pinks in the garden
had a sickly look, for the petals hung low
and were heavy with water and with mud
which had splashed upon them. The clouds
were still dark and threatening, bespeaking
a stormy night. The little town of Ashton
was unusually quiet. The streets were too
muddyand the weather too inclement to en
tice people from their homes. Only now
and then a solitary traveler was to be seen.
These business had driven forth, and they
walked with rapid steps, anxious to again
get under shelter.
In a vine-wreathed cottage, on a flower
sprinkled lawn, the supper had been wait
ing over an hour for the master of the
house, whose business had necessitated his
being absent from home all day. Mr. Ja
cobs was the tax collector of the township,
and consequently could not wait the return
of pleasant weather before pursuing his
journey. Therefore he had equipped him
self in his India rubber garments in the
morning, and gone about his business,
leaving his wife the promise of an early
return in the evening, but the supper hour
had come and gone without his ma
king an appearance. Mrs. Jacobs, how
ever, was not anxious as yet. Such delays
were too frequent to cause this one to give
her any uneasiness of mind.
She flitted about the house, busy with
her evening duties, singing a gay song as
she went. She was a bright little woman,
with a world of Courage written in her
dark, sparkling eyes, and on the firm red
lips.
Anon she disrobed her two little ones,
and put them to bed, and when the night
shadows turned into an inky blackness she
seated herself by the lamp and began to
sew, still the supper table spread, and the
food on the stove keeping warm for the
return of her husband. But the little
clock on the mantel shelf had told the hour
of ten before his step was heard at the
door. He came in hurriedly, and strode
to a seat without removing his dripping
outer garments or his muddy booth.
"Was detained. Am in an awful hurry.
Going to Winchester to-night," driving
his hand into a pocket of his innner coat
and glancing anxiously around the room.
"To Winchester !" repeated his wife,
in dismay. "Twenty miles in the storm."
"Can't be helped," he returned. "Busi
ness is business, you know."
He removed his hand from his pocket,
and took off his hat, and brushing back
his 'hair, revealed the rather handsome
face of a light-complexioned, middle-aged
, man. He had large gray eyes, but they
wore an anxious expression, and their
glance wandered restlessly about the apart
ment.
Office re
i g, Hill street
[jan.4,Vl .
[jan.4,ll
"Jane," he said suddenly, again diving
his hand into the troublesome pocket, "do
you suppose you could take care of a large
sum of money till to-morrow ?"
"Why, yes," she answered, looking up
in surprise.
"I Lye collected five thousand dollars,"
he continued, "and it is too late , to got
into the bank, and I do not care to carry
so much with me."
"Well, you can leave it here as well as
not. No one would think of my having
such a sum of money."
He drew a large wallet from his pocket
and placed it in her hands.
"It belongs to the Government, and if
you let it raise from your hands I am
ruined," he commented. And he arose
as if to depart.
—Yon are going to eat some supper ?"
she inquired.
"No, I have no time to lose. I must
make Winchester by midnight. Good bye.
Take care of the money, and fasten all the
doors."
He gave her a hurried kiss and the next
moment he was gone.
But the sounds of his footsteps had
scarcely died away before Mrs. Jacobs be
gan to feel a strange fear creeping over
her. Why it was she knew not. She
had lived there seven years, end slept in
the house many a night without the door
being shut. Now they were locked and
bolted, but she could not think of goingto
bed. She was likewise too nervous to work.
She put the money in her dress pocket,
and clasping both tightly in her hands, she
sat very still, gazing anxiously into noth
ingness, and listening so intently that si
lence became a fearful mingling of discord
ant sounds in her ears.
An hour passed. It bad been an age
to her.
Itichls-tf
"I am glad that I am not rich," she
whispered as the clock struck eleven.—
"What a task it must be to watch one's
gold !"
Presently she heard a sound. It was
not the rain, for there was a perfect lull
in the storm. It could not be a neighbor,
for she lived in the outskirts of the village,
several blocks from any one, and she was
not likely to be called in case of sickness.
Again she heard it. It seemed as if a
window sash was being slowly raised.—
Strange that she could have forgotten to
fasten them down !
'Why didn't John leave me his revol
ver ?" she mused, "I have nothing with
which to protect myself in case that I
should be molested to-night. It was really
an oversight in him !"
Again she heard the sound. It seemed
to come from the bedrcom. It was surely
the raising of a sash. Then there was the
sound of a movement as though some one
was entering that way.
Fear nearly paralyzed her for a moment
but she quickly rallied, and taking up the
lamp, proceeded to investigate the matter.
She had scarcely opened the bedroom door
when she staggered backward with a half
suppressed scream. Two men in hideous
disguises were already in the room and a
third ruffian was in the act of crawling
through the window. Involuntarily she
clutched the pocket which contained the
money, thinking meanwhile how she could
protect herself and it. Alas ! she had
nothing but her own weak hand with
which to fight the battle, and she well
knew how powerless they were compared
with the strength of the enemy.
"What do you want here ?" she asked
in a faltering voice.
"We want the five thousand dollars
which you have in keeping for your hus
band," said one of them.
They knew then that she had it in her
possession.
"You can't get any money from me,"
she said decisively; "I have no money."
"A pretty little fib," he responded with
a laugh. "We will just look into your
pockets and see."
In her eagerness to preserve her treas
ure she clutches the pockets of her dress,
betraying its whereabouts.
She turned pale when the knowledge of
her thoughtlessness was revealed to her.
"You can't have it ! you shan't have
it !" she cried, knowing all the while that
they would have it in spite of her.
"We will see!" exclaimed one of the
men, grabbing her in his arms.
She struggled desperately, but was over
powered and the money taken from her.
Then, womanlike, she began to cry.
"Let us go now," said one of the rob
bers. "You take the spondulix and git
and I will fix her tongue in a way that it
will remain quiet for an hour at least."
"Don't be in a hurry," put in another,
"I am darnation hungry, and we can just
as well take a bite here as not."
The others demurred, but he continued,
"Set to work, you old gal, and get us
some supper. You've got a fire and some
boiling water, and we want a cup of tea.
To work, I say !"
_ _ _
Mrs. 'Jacobs knew that a refusal would
only subject her to more indignity, and
she arose to do their bidding.
She put some more plates on the table,
along with such food as she had cooked,
and then proceeded to make the tea, won
dering all the while if there was any way
to regain possession of the money, and
dreading her husband's anger and dismay
on his return should she fail to do so.
As she took the tea cannister from the
pantry shelf she caught sight of a bottle
labeled arsenic. Her husband had pur
chased it on the previous day in order to
destroy the rats, which were becoming
troublesome, but as yet had used no por
tion of it.
Here was a chance for relief, and she
seized it eagerly. Opening the bottle, he
put a few grains in the tea-pot along with
the tea, of which she gave good measure,
in order to destroy the taste of the arsenic.
A few minutes later and the robbers
were sitting at the table unconsciously sip
ping their death.
"They may kill me," mused the faith
ful woman, "but the money will be found,
and my husband's honor saved."
After a few minutes, one by one of the
robbers complained of being sick.
"I verily believe that jade has poisoned
us," said one, and the next moment fell
with a deep groan to the floor.
"I know that she has poisoned us,"
cried another, "and her own life shall pay
the forfeit."
He sprang from his seat and started to
ward her, revolver in hand, but fell ere he
had reached her.
"Jane," exclaimed the third, "you have
saved the money, but you have murdered
me."
How strangely familiar sounded the
voice ! Forgetting all her old fear in the
new, Mrs. Jacobs sprang forward and
knelt by the side of the dying man.
None tried to harm her now, for all
were powerless to do so.
She pulled the disguise, a hideous negro
face, with large grinning mouth, from the
face of the last speaker. One look—then
came a scream which echoed through the
house Ilke a peal of thunder.
The dying man was her own husband.
But little moreremains to be told of the
sad story. The money was preserved, but
the heroic woman is a maniac, raring in a
southern asylum over the murder of her
husband, imagining that her hands aro
dyed red with his blood.
Anding for the ;1; Mon.
Mental Difference Between the Sexes
It is a well-ascertained fact that girls are
more precocious than boys, and that be
tween the ages, say of nine and fifteen, and,
indeed, till probably a somewhat later pe
riod, they materially distance them in any
competive examinations in subjects proper
to both. The same obsarvation may be
made of such races as, for example, the
Celtic, when compared with the Teutonic,
or with Orientals, when confronted with
ordinary Europeans. It is for this reason
that Irish youth obtain far more than their
numerical share of the good things which
are annually given away in 4 England and
in India to young fellows of eighteen, who
distance their fellows in stiff intellectual
tests; and on this account that a cry of
alarm has been raised that if Hincloos are
allowed to compete with Britons at the
same age for the same prizes, the civil
government of India will soon be handed
over to them exclusively. Yet no one will
pretend that full-grown Irishmen are su
perior to full-grown Englishmen in intel
lectual capacity, or that the Hindoo mind,
fully developed, distances the European
mind at the mature stage. Judged by re
sults, and by the work done and capable
of being done by them respectively, we
doubt if any impartial person would not
allow that the proposition must in each
case be reversed. The Celt and the Ori
ental develope earlier than the English
man or the European; but—and here's
the rub—theg give up developing much
earlier; and thus the tortoise ends by
beating the hare. It is just the same with
women and men Girls will beat boys
hollow; but, mentally in like manner as
physically, their growth and develment are
stopped much sooner, and the man beats
the woman alike in rapidity of thought
and in the power of sustaining it. He
argues a difficult matter with more con
centration of mind, and yet he will illus
trate his argument with a greater number
appropriate illustrations. He is hard wood;
she is soft. She blossoms like the flower ;
he matures like the stem.
HUNTINGDON, PA., FEBRUARY 14, 1872
Hand-Shaking
How did the people get in the habit of
shaking hands 't The answer is not far to
seek. In early and barbarous times, when
every savage or semi•savage was his own
law-giver, judge, soldier and policeman,
and bad to watch over his own safety in
default of all oilier protection, two friends
and acquaintances, or two strangers desir
ing to be friends and acquaintances, when
they chanced to meet, offered each to the
other the right hand—the hand alike of
offence and defence, and the hand that
wields the sword, the dagger, the club, the
tomahawk or other weapons of war. Each
did this to show that the hand was empty
and that neither war nor treachery was in
tended. A man cannot well stab another
while be is shaking hands with him, un
less he be a doubled-dyed villain and trait
or and strive to aim a cowardly blow with
the left while giving the right, and pre
tending to be on good terms with his vic
tim.
The custom of hand-shaking prevails
more or less among all civilized nations,
and is the tacit avowal of friendship and
good will, just as a kiss is of a warmer
passion.
Ladies, as every one must have remark
ed, seldom or never shake hands with the
cordiality of gentlemen, unless it be with
each other. The reason is obvious. It is
for them to receive homage, not to give it.
They cannot be expected to show the per
sons of the other sex a warmth of greeting
which might be misinterpreted, unless
such persons are very closely related to
them by family or affection ; in which
cases, hand-shaking is not needed, and the
lips do more agreeable duty.
Every man shakes hands according to
his nature, whether it be timid or aggres
sive, proud or humble, courteous or chur
lish, refined or vulgar, sincere or hypocrit
ical, enthusiastic or indifferent. The nicest
refinement and idiosyncrasies of character
may not, perhaps, be discoverable in this
passion, but the salient points of temper
ment and individuality may doubtless be
made clear to the understanding of most
people by a better study of what may be
called the physiology of hand-shaking.
To present the left hand for the pur
pose of a friendly greeting is a piece of
discourtesy. Sometimes intentional on the
part of superiors in rank to their inferiors,
and an act that no true gentleman will
commit. There is no reason why it should
be considered more discourteous than it
would be to kiss the left cheek instead of
the right; but doubtless, the custom that
makes the right hand imperative in all
sincere salutations, dates from those early
times when hand-shaking first began, and
the hand that was shook or was shaken in
friendship was necessarily weaponless.
A Daring /Eronaut : -A Man with Nerves
of Steel,
Young Donaldson, who made a balloon
ascension at Reading; Pa., on the 30th of
August last, and performed a series of
trapeze feats when a mile or more from
the ground, repeated his thrilling perform
ance in Norfolk on.: Monday last. Therc
was no basket to the balloon, but its place
was supplied by a trapeze similar to those
used by circus performers, and above the
trapeze was placed a hoop, secured to which
was a quit of heavy clothing to be used by
the aerial voyager when he encountered the
cold current.
The Norfolk Journal in describing the
ascension says that when the balloon was
released from its moorings and reached a
great altitude, Donaldson suddenly, and
apparently with little effort, threw him
self into a sitting posture on the bar, kiss
ing his hand to the crowd below. Sudden
ly pretending to lose his balance he fell
backwards, sliding his head downwards
until he caught by his toes on the side ropes
that suspended the trapeze bar. In this
perilous position he swung to and fro for
several seconds—a time which seemed an
age to the awe-stricken crowd below.
Throwing himself back in his seat on
the bar, the aeronaut sat astride the same.
Then began a series of gymnastic evolu
tisns—balancing himself on his back, turn
ing over and over and "skinning the cat,"
by the side ropes, etc. Upwards, grandly
and steadily rose the balloon, cleaving the
air like a mighty bird.
When the balloon was a mere speck in
the distance, invisible to the naked eye,
and almost through powerful telescopes,
the man with nerves of steel and the heart
of a lion repeated his daring trapeze feat
of hanging head downwards suspended by
his toes. Such a scene was never witness
ed in Norfolk, and seldom anywhere in
the world. The description of such a scene
reads like a romance, but the reality far
surpasses the most vivid powers of word
painting, and we desist from the vain ef
fort to depict it. When the aerial ship
had reached an altitude of half a mile, and
had struck the colder current of air, the
aeronaut was observed to climb up to the
hoop, and get his suit of thick clothes.
Descending to the bar, he dressed himself,
and then resumed the gymnastic display—
exercising himself to keep warm.
The Value of a Newspaper,
The following is the experience of a
mechanic, concerning the benefits of a
newspaper: . . . _
.
Ten years ago I lived in a town in In
diana. On returning home one night, for
lam a carpenter by trade, I saw a little
girl leave my door, and I asked my wife
who she was. She said Mrs. Harris had
sent her after their newspaper, which my
wife had borrowed. As we sat down to
tea, my wife said to me, by my given name :
"I wish you would subscribe for the
newspaper, it is so much 3omfort to me
when you aro away from home."
"I would like to do so," said I, "but
you know I owe a payment on the house
and lot. It will be all I can do to meet it."
She replied:
"If you will take this paper, I will sew
for the tailor to pay for it."
I subscribed for the paper-; it came in
due time to the shop. While resting one
noon, and looking in it, I saw an advertise
ment of the co , ,nty commissioners to let a
bridge that was to be built.
I put in a bid for the bridge, and the
job was awarded to me, on which I cleared
three hundred dollars, which enabled me
to pay for my house and lot easily, and
for the newspaper. If I had not sub
scribed for the newspaper, I would not
have known anything about the contract,
and could not have met my payment on
the house and lot. A mechanic never loses
anything by taking a newspaper.
Two women were asked which of two
men each would choose were she compelled
to marry one of them. One replied : "The
eldest, that I might be the sooner rid of
him." The other : "The youngest, that I
might make him suffer the longest."
The Modern Press
The printer when asked what he print
ed, said he printed thoughts. When asked
how can you print thoughts which are in
visible, intangible thingss, without form,
color or weight; his reply was, that
thoughts live and work, and walk in things
that make tracks, and with the pieces of
metal called types, he could measure the
track of any thought that ever made its
burning foot-marks along the pathway of
ages. Thus thought, when measured by
type, and touched by printers ink, assumes
fbrm, takes on a body and is clothed in
garments of beauty that makes it a living
working, intellectual, moral and spiritual
force in the world.
Thought first works through the ma
chinery of the human body, and reveals
itself in the flushed face, the flashing
smile, the tender glance, the musical voice,
the graceful movement or the gentle pres
ure of the hand. It next works through
the machinery of the printing press, and
by it is stamped with immortality, and in
the daily and weekly newspaper is scat
tered abroad as the leaves of the Tree of
Life for the healing of the nations. In
the newspaper of the present day, more
than in books or periodicals, is the soul
food served up and distributed, that is to
satisfy the appetite and feed the strength
of the teeming millions of the earth's ra
tional population.
The intellectual and moral growth of our
people depends upon the thoughts upon
which they feed, and the amount ofmental
feeding, depends upon the supply of food,
both in quantity and quality. A sufficient
quantity and good quality of mental food
can only be furnished in a form and at a
price so as to place it within the reach of
all through the newspaper press. Another
advantage of the newspaper over books, as
the medium for conveying mental food to
our people, is that it comes fresh and warm
from the glowing brains of its producer
every week. It is never old, never stale,
but always new, always fresh, always fra
grant. It is a dish tempting to the appe
tite, pleasing to the taste, and refreshing
to the spirit of the reader. No man, wo
man or child, who has a soul to feed, should
be without the daily or weekly newspaper.
It occupies a place, fills a position, performs
an office, and does a work peculiar to it
self, a place that a;book is too large to fill,
an office that it is too pretentious to per
form.
How to Beoome a Millionaire
John MCDonough, the millionaire of
New Orleans, has engraved upon his tomb
a series of maxims he has prescribed
through life, and to which his success in
business is mainly attributed. They con
tain so much wisdom that we copy them.
Rules for the Guidance of my life, 1 804.
Remember always that labor is one of
the conditions of existence.
Time' is gold; throw not one minute
away, but place each one to account.
Do unto all men as you would be done
by.
Never put off till to-morrow what yon
can do to-day.
Never bid another do what you can do
yourself.
Never covet what is not your own.
Never think any mattes so trifling as
not to deserve notice.
Never give out that which does not first
come in.
Never spend but to produce.
Let the greatest order regulate the trans
actions of your life.
Study, in your course of life, to do the
greatest amount of good.
Deprive yourself of nothing necessary
to your comfort, but live in an honorable
simplicity.
Labor to the last moments of your ex
istence.
Pursue strictly the above rules, and the
divine blessing and riches of every kind
will flow upon you to your heart's con
tent.
First of all, remember that the chief
and great duty of your life should be to
tend,. by all means in your power, to the
honor and glory of our Divine Creator.
The conclusion to which I have arrived
is, that without temperance there is no
health; without virtue, no order; without
religion, no happiness; and that the aim
of our being is to live righteously, wisely
and soberly. ,
JOHN MODONOUGIL
New Orleans, March 9, 1804.
Don't Hurry.
Believe in traveling on step by step;
don't expect to be rich in a jump. Slow
and sure is better than fast and flimsy.
Perseverance by its daily gains, enriches a
man far more than fits and starts of for
tunate speculation. Little flashes are sweet.
Every day a thread makes a skein in a year.
Brick by brick houses are built. We
should creep before we walk, walk before
we run, and run before we ride. In get
ting rich, the more haste the less speed—
haste trips up its own wheels.
Don't give up a small business till you
see that a large one will pay you better.
Even crumbs are bread. Better a little
furniture than an empty house. In these
hard times, he who can sit on a stone and
feed himself had better not move. From
bad to worse is poor improvement. A
crust is hard fare, but none at all is harder.
Don't jump off the frying pan into the fire.
Remember, many men have done well in
small shops. A little trade with profit is
better than a great concern at a loss; a
small fire that warms you is better than a
large fire that burns you. A great deal of
water can be got from a small pipe, if the
bucket is always there to catch it. Large
hares may be caught in small woods. A
sheep may get fat in a small meadow, and
starve in a great desert. He who under
takes too much succeeds but little.—Jobe
Ploughman's Talk.
Truths
Nothing is so cheap as good manners.
Be just before you are generous.
lie only is bright who shines by himself.
An honest death is better than a dis
honest life.
The fickleness of fortune is felt all over
the world.
Little can be done well to which the
whole mind is not applied.
Justice consists in doing no injury to
men; decency in giving Ihem no offense.
Few can be assiduous without servility,
and none can be servile without corrup
tion.
Many false things have more appear
ance of truth than things that be most
true.
gylvtlero' gkotto.
The Hot Springs of the Yellowstone.
The following is from Prof. Hayden's
article on the Yellowstone, in the Febru
ary number of Scribner's. This article is
the second in a series of "The Wonders of
the West :"
From the river our path led up the steep
sides of the hill for about one mile, when
we came suddenly and unexpectedly in full
view of the springs. This wonder alone,
our whole company agreed, surpassed all
the descriptions which had been given by
former travelers. Indeed, the Langford
party saw nothing of this. Before us
arose a high white mountain, looking
precisely like a frozen cascade. It is formed
by the calcareous sediment of the hot
springs, precipitated from the water as it
flows down the steep declivities of the
mountain side. The upper portion is about
one thousand feet above the waters of Gard
ner's River. The surface covered with the
deposit comprises from three to four square
miles. The springs now in operation cover
an area of about one square mile,
while the
rest of the territory is occupied by the re
mains of springs which have ceased to flow.
We pitched our camp upon a greasy ter
race at the base of the principal group of
active springs. Just in the rear of us
were a series of reservoirs or bathing-pools,
rising one above the other, semicircular in
form, with most elegantly scolloped mar
gins composed of calcareous matter, the
sediment precipitated from the water of
the spring. The hill, which is about two
hundred feet high, presents the appearance
of water congealed by frost as it flows down
a rocky declivity. The deposit is as white
as snow, excepting when tinged here and
there with iron or sulphur. Small streams
flow down the sides of the snowy moun
tain, in channels lined with oxide of iron
colored with the most delicate tints of red.
Others present the most exquisite shades
of yellow, from a deep brigh tsulphur to a
dainty cream-color. In the spring and in
the little channels is a material like the
finest Cashmere wool, with its slender
fibres floating in the water, vibrating with
the movement of the current, and tinged
with various shades of red and yellow, as
bright as those of our aniline dye. These
delicate wool-like masses are undoubtedly
plants, which seem to be abundant in all
the hot springs of the West, and are fami
liar to the microscopist asdiatoms. Upon
a kind of terrace covering an area of two
hundred yards in length and fifteen in
width are several large springs in a state
of agitation, but with a somewhat lower
temperature than the boiling-point. The
hottest spring is 172° ; 'others are 142°,
155°, and • 156°, respectively. Some of
them give off the odor of sulphuretted hy
drogen quite perceptibly. A qualitative
analysis shows the water to contain sul
phuretted hydrogen, lime, soda, alumina,
and a small amount of magnesia. It is
beautifully clear, and slightly alkaline to
the taste.
The water after rising from the spring
basins flows down the sides of the declivi
ty, step by step, from one reservoir to the
other, at each one of them losing a portion
of its heat, until it becomes as cool spring
water. Within five hundred feet of its
source our large party encamped for two
days by the side of the little stream formed
by the aggregated waters of these hot
springs, and we found the water most ex
cellent for drinking as well as for cooking
purposes. It was perfectly clear and taste
less, and harmless in its effects. During
our stay here all the members of our par
ty, as well as the soldiers comprising our
escort, enjoyed the luxury of bathing in
these most elegantly carved natural bath
ing-pools, and it was easy to select, from
the hundreds of reservoirs, water of every
variety of temperature. These natural
basins vary somewhat in size, but many of
them arc about four by six feet in diame
ter, and one to four feet in depth. With
a foresight worthy of commendation, two
men have already pre-empted 320 arces of
land covering most of the surface occupied
by the active springs, with the expectation
that upon the completion of the Northern
Pacific Railroad this will become a famous
place of resort for invalids and pleasure
seekers. Indeed, no future tourist in trav
eling over the Far West will think of
neglecting this most wonderful of the phy
sical phenomena of that most interesting
region. _ _ _
The level or terrace upon which the
principal active springs are located is
about midway up the sides of the mountain
covered with the sediment. Still farther
up are the old ruins of what must have
been at some period of the past even more
active springs than any at present known.
The sides of the mountain fbr two or three
hundred feet in heighth are covered with
a thick crust of the calcareous deposit,
which was originally ornamented with the
most elegant sculpturing all over the sur
face, like the bathing-pools below. But
atmospheric agencies, which act readily on
the lime, have obliterated all their delicate
beauty. Chimneys partially broken down
are scattered about here and there with
apertures varying in size from two inches
to two feet in diameter. Long, rounded
ridges are also quite numerous, with fis
sures extending the entire length, from
which the boiling water issued forth and
flowed over the sides. Thus the sediment
was continually precipitated in thin oval
layers, so. that a section of these oblong
chimneys presents the appearance of layers
of hay in a stack, or the thatched cabin of
a peasant. Some of these chimneys were
undoubtedly formed by geysers, now ex
tinct ; others by what may be called spout
ing-springs, as those which are in a con
stant state of violent ebulition, throwing
the water up two or four feet—a phenom
enon intermediate between a boiling-spring
and a true geyser. The water is forced
up through an orifice in the earth by hy
drostatic pressure, and overflowing precip
itates the sediment around it •; and thus,
in time, it builds up a mound varying in
height according to the force of this pres
ure. One of these cones is very remarka
ble, surpassing any observed in any other
portion of the West. From its peculiar
form we almost involuntarily named it the
"Liberty Cap." It is entirely composed
of carbonate of lime, in flexible cap-like
layers, with a diameter at the base of fif
teen feet, and a height of about forty feet.
It is completely closed over at the summit.
This is probably an extinct geyser, and
was the most powerful one of this group.
Snow us the family where good music
is cultivated, where the parents and child
ren are accustomed often to mingle their
voices together in song, and we will show
you one, in almost every instance, where
peace, harmony, and love prevail, and
where the great vices have no abiding
place.
gh isktor Pudgtt.
The Dark Spirit of Sectarianism
It was before the war. Dinah was a "free
nigger." She bad bought and paid for her
self, and having come North, and being
employed as cook in a family living not a
thousand miles from Broadway, and ma
king money, concluded she would buy Sam
bo, her husband, whom she left at "Ole
Mass', in Virginny."
With the help of her generous employer
Dinah succeeded, and Sambo came on and
set up business.
For a time Dinah was happy; but, as
in other cases, clouds came after awhile
over her matrimonial sky. Sambo was going
his own road. Dinah went to the "Abys
sinian Baptist" meeting, and Sambo attend
ed the "Ethiopian Baptist"—two rival
churches of the colored folk.
"Massa Charley," said Dinah, one day,
"I an't goin' to invest in no more niggers.
I bought that Sambo feller, and he's got
too stuck up to live. He's ;too big feelin'
Aos.go to my meetin' wid me. He says it's
not 'ristocratic enuff. We pays our preach
er two hundred dollars, and he goes to
the other meetin' whar they gives their
man fo' hundred."
"What church do you belong to, Di
nah ?" asked Massa Charley.
"Well, thar's two callud Baptis' church
es ; &mho he belongs to the Thopian Bap
tis', and I belongs to the Obscene Baptis' "
Caught by a Lawysr,
In 1863 a fat man rushed into the
office of a well-known New Hampshire law
yer, and told him he was drafted.
"The deuce you are !" said the lawyer
"it must be a strong man that could draft
a man of your size ?"
"Well, I am drafted, and want you to get
me off. I will pay you for it.
"Very,well," and they proceeded to the
office of the provost marshal.
"Here, said the lawyer, I've got a substi
tute."
"He won't do," said the marshal.—
"He's too fat and wheezy; he can't
march."
"Cannot you take him just for me ?"
said the lawyer.
"No," said the marshal, "it's no use I
don't want him." This was just what the
lawyer wanted.
"He won't do, eh ?"
"No he won't," said the marshall.
"Weil then scratch his name off the list,
for he is drafted, and came here with me
to be exempted."
The marshal saw they had proved too
much for him, and without another word
ordered the man's exemption papers.
Too Much for the Devil
This is Edward Hale's story : A man
had sold himself to the devil who was to
possess him at a certain time unless he
could propound a question to his Satanic
Majesty which he could not answer, he being
allowed to put three queries to him. The
time came for the devil to claim his own,
and consequently appeared. The firstques
don the man asked was concerning theolo
gy, to which it caused the devil no trouble
to reply. The second he also answered
without hesitation. The man's fate depend
ed upon the third. What should it be ?
He hesitated and turned pale, and the
cold dew stood on his forehead, while he
shivered with anxiety, nervousness and
terror, and the devil triumphantly sneered.
At this juncture the man's wife appeared
in the room with a bonnet on her head,
Alarmed at her husband's condition, she
demanded to know the cause. When in
formed, she laughed and said, "I can pro
pound a question which the devil himself
cannot answer. Ask him which is the
front of this bonnet ?" The devil gave it
up and retired in disgust and the man was
free.
A Dubious Apolbgy ,
David once visited a menagerie at
Washington, and pausing a moment be
fore a particular hideous monkey, exclaim
ed:
“What a resemblance to the Hon. Mr.
The words were rearcely spoken, when
he turned and to his utter astonishment,
saw standing at his side the very man
whom he complimented.
"I beg your pardon, said the gallant
Colonel, I would not have made the re
mark had I known you were near me ; and
I am ready to make the most bumble apol
ogy for my unpardonable rudeness, but"
—looking first at the insulted member of
Congress, whose face was any thing but
lovely and then at the animal he had com
pared him with—"hang me if I can tell
whether I ought to apologise to you or to
the monkey."
Yankee's Wont Lie
A Yankee having told an Englishman
that he shot, on one particular occasion,
999 snipe, his interlocutor asked him why
he didn't make it a thousand. at once.
"No," said he ; "not likely I'm going
to tell a lie for one snipe."
Whereupon the Englishman, determin
ed not to be outdone, began to tell a long
story of a man having swam from Liver
pool to Boston.
"Did you see him ?" asked the Yankee,
suddenly, "did you see him yourself?"
"Why, yes, of course I did; I was com
ing across, and our vessel passed him a
mile out of Boston harbor.
"Well, I'm glad ye saw him, stranger,
'cos yer a witness that I did it. That was
me ?"
THE author of the new "Portrait of Rev.
George Whitefield" relates the following
well-timed anecdote.
There are some people who always make
a great time on great occasions, even if
they are compelled to act hypocrite. A
man of this sort once went to hear White
field preach. During the sermon he was
thrilled, delighted, captivated, and so over
come that he fell to the earth. When the ser
mon was finished, ho said to a gentleman
standing by,
"Whitt ;great sermon Whitefield preach
ed to-day !"
The gentleman replied,
"We were dissappointed to-day ; Mr.
Whitefield was not present ; another gen
tleman preaohed in his place."
The man looked exceedingly dissappoint
ed saying,
"Then that wasn't Whitefield, and brush
ing the dirt from his coat, exclaimed, "I
have dirtied my new coat for NOTHING !"
A BUNKUM fence was described by a
witness under examination in court, as a
fence that is bull strong, horse high, and
pig tight.
NO. 7.
the Wont fink.
Be in Earnest.
From the dead and from the living,
Sounds of many voices fall,
And in notes of solemn warning,
This the burden of them all—
Let each voice call forth another,
Be in earnest, friend and brother,
Life will soon be gone!
Christian, for thy heaw'nly country,
By the sweat upon thy brow,
Be in earnest! meek and lowly,
As thy Master was, be thou!
What altho' the path be weary,
Let thy aim be high and holy,
And the end in won!
Oh! how earnest was thy Saviour,
Li His great redeeming love,
To make peace for man forever,
And that all that peace might have.
He wept! He groaned ! He died?
Justice now is satisfied;
His work is done.
Friends of Jesus, be in earnest,
See the harvest ripe to reap,
Labor to fullfill thy mission,
And the heavenly gift to keep;
While the noonday sun is shining!
Lo! the shadow is declining,
Glory now thy mend.
God Must Have All.
Many persons under conviction of sin would
come into peace sooner ifsnbmission was made
sooner. They are sticking for terms, and God
does not bless sticking for terms. He must
have it all and now. Immediate ? entire, un
conditional surrender, is what he asks for. If
it were granted, how much shorter the road to
peace would be.
- We have a ease in mind illustrating this
point.
In a strange congregation we were preach.
ing to, one Sabbath, there was one who felt
the truth very keenly. She came to the even
ing meeting under conviction, tried to go away,
did walk off a little distance, but came back in
great emotion, and took her seat again in the
vestry for religious conversation. We urged
her to pray. She felt too wicked to pray, yet
engaged to do so, and went home. The very
next morning that friend met us 'before leav
ing the place. She had begun to rejoice in a
new experience, ands sunshine was her in face.
It was real sunshine, too, glory from the shin
ing of the Sun of Righteousness. Severalyears
have slipped by since then, and that soul has
trusted ever since without doubt. The expe
rience of the night, though, was instructive.
She did go home to pray, but it was only a
treating with the Almighty for terms. She
could not withdraw from the line of rebel en
trenchments, and yield everything. Division,
and not surrender was in her mind. She
thought she would go to sleep, but God was
not going to let her sleep on the trace ground,
where she was deciding her eternity. All
night she was sending commissioners to the
throne of the Almighty to treat for terms. At
last, toward morning, she sent in an entire
surrender. Everything went, plans, pleasures,
earthly friends. Everything came, pardon,
peace, eternal life. And in the long stream
ers of light thrown up into the morning sky,
she saw only the lifting of a multitnde of ban
ners of rejoicing.
He must have all.
But why should not hundreds and thousands
of others now under conviction, have as speedy
peace just in a night or day? Why this lin
gering in wretchedness ? flow much of it can
be explained by this unwillingness to yield up
all ? They want to keep a few wrong habits,
this pet sin, that worldly pleasure, on their
side of the line. As Christian workers, we
need to proclaim it more emphatically: "The
Lord must have all, and have it now." Some
one may be reading this who itrunder convic
tion of sin. Is thereanythingkept back? Are
you striking for an armistice, tine in which to
conveniently effect a settlement? You never
can have peace on such terms. God must have
all and now. I beseech you to examine your
self. It may be some little thing that keeps
you out of peace.
Remember that a ship, in order to ground
need only catch in some one place. There she
hangs. The boats are out, but the men can
not draw her off. The sails swell with the
wind, but they do not start her. She is not
aground along the whole length of her keel.
She has only caught in one place, andyet as
effectually as if laid up on the sand bank like
a toy ship on a shelf. There she must hang
till a fuller tide shall float her off. Dear
friend, you are catching• at some one thing and
it is just as damaging as if yon where holding
on to everything. It is only a fuller conse
cration that will set you adrift.—Rev. E. A.
Rand in Christian Banner.
Not Doctrine, But Christ.
It is not truth, but Him who is the "Truth
and the Life," you are to love. It is not vir
tue, but Him who embodies it, you are to ad
mire. It is not power, but Him who wields it
with the heart of a lover and the hand of a
friend, you are t 3 address in prayers. It is
not purity, white as a marble statue, robed in
snowy drapery, you are to admire, but Him,
the warm, living embodiment of it whose ab
solute stainlessness is tinted with the warm
glow of his humanity, and whose form is not
of chiseled alabaster, immobile and rigid, but
vibrant with sympathy and as sensitive to
emotion, as a happy mother to the cry and
and touch of her first born. It is not just
at this point that we are able to see why re
ligion is so cold and unexpressive in the case
of almost all of us ? Our philosophy is at
fault. We have put truth in front of Him who
revealed it. We keep the priuciples but lose
the person of Christ. We associate our lives,
in their growth, with a few great principles,in
stead of with the one great God. We have
preached to defend and explain creeds more
than to present Jesus to the hearer. We have
lost sight of the sun in our eager chase to cap
ture the sunbeams ; and Christ might say, in
a voice which should have in it the sadness
and rebuke of all ages: "You have loved my
doctrines more than you have me !—Bee. W.
H. 11. Murray.
Be Steadfast.
An English admiral, who rose to his high
station by his own steady exertions, used to be
fond of relating, that, on first leaving a humble
lodging to join his ship as a midshipman, his
landlady presented him with a Bible and a
guinea, saying "God bless you and prosper
you, my lad ; and, as long as you live, never
suffer yourself to be laughed out of your mo
ney or your pray3rv."
The young sailor carefully followed this ad
vice through life, and had' reason to rejoice
that he did so; while thousanes have regretted,
when too late, that they have pursued a dif
ferent course.
Never let your honest convictions be laugh
ed down. Be true to yourself; and in the
end, you will not only be respected by , the
world, but have the approval of your own
conscience. See to it, that whatever you
lose, whether it be money, or place, or rlu
tation, you do-not lose courage, honesty, sim
plicity, or Astithfulness.—Early Days.
Koep on Praying
"Do you think," I asked, "that the Lord will
let me see, in this life, the slavation of the
souls for whom I pray."
"I cannot say as to that. When I was a
child in the Sabbath School in the old coun
try," she continued, "my faithful teacher used
to say, 'I have prayed too much for my Class
for one of them to be lost." I was a thought
less girl at the time, and remember wondering
at it, and thinking it a very self-confident re
mark—she was so sure. shall have them
all,' she would say. I shall say to Christ, at
the judgmentigere am I and the Class thou
last given me.'.
"And were they all converted?" I asked.
"Yes. She di,not live to see it; but my
eyes have seen it+—{he last of the sixteen gath
ered into the fold.'W;i4nes•Witi for Jean.
KINDNESS is the music o 1
and on the harp the smalrei
Heaven's sweetest tunes oa
IT is as difficult for 1 . 18111112 . 0 to
exciting suspicion, as for a rattle
without making a noise.