VOL. 47
The Huntingdon. Journal.
J. A. NASh,
POBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS.
J. R. DURBOBROW,
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- ITh CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law,
•No. 111, :1,1 street. Office formerly occupied
by Messrs. Woods Ac Williamson. [apl2,'7l.
DR. R. It. VIESTLING,
respectfully offers his professional services
to the citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity.'
Office removed to No. 81S/ Hill street, (Sutra's
[apr.s;7l-Iy.
- FIR. J. C. FLEMMING respectfully
-A- , offers his professional services to the citizens
of Ifuntingdon and vicinity. Office second floor of
Cunningham's building, nu corner of 4th and llill
Street. may 24.
DR. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his
professional services to the community.
Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door east
of the Catholic Parsonage. Dan. 4,71.
EJ. GREENE, Dentist. Office re
-A-A• moved to Leistees new building, Hill street
r•—itingdon. pan.4,'7l.
Ct L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
A—A
• Bmwn's now building. No. 520, Hill St.,
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• of Washington and Smith streets, Hun-
tingdon, Pa.
'WI C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law
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J• SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at
e"
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hree doors west of Smith. Dan.4'7l.
R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth
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T HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law,
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R. DURBORROW, Attorney-at-
J• Law, Huntingdon, Pa., wijl practice in the
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attention given to the settlement of estates of dece
dents.
- Oboe in he JounNAL Building. [feb.l,7l
W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law
J • and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa.,
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Office on Hill street. Dan.4,'7l.
' ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at
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MILLER It BUCHANAN,
DENTISTS,
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HUNTINGDON, PA
April 5, 'il-ly.
110) 31. &M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys
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11#, A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law,
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im03'31,11.
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Miscellaneous
EXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon,
Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor.
January 4,1871.
COLORED PRINTING DONE AT
V the Journal Office, at Philadelphia price.
NEAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT,
COR. NAY NE and JUNIATA STREETT
ITNITEI) STATES HOTEL,
HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA
APCLAIN k CO., PROPRIETORS
ROBT. KING, Merchant Tailor, 412
Washington street, Huntingdon, Pa., a lib
eral share of patronage respectfully solicited.
A. prill2, 1371.
L EWISTOWN BOILER WORKS.
SNYDER, WEIDNER & CO., Manufac
nrers 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 prsriptly attended to. Repairing
done at short noLi.e. [Apr 5,11,1 y..
A R. BECK, Fashionable Barber
• and Hairdresser, Hill street, opposite the
Franklin House. All kinds of Tonics and Pomades
kept on hand and for sale. (aplB,ll-13m
GO TO THE JOURNAL OFFI CE
For all kinds of printing.
The Huntingdon Journal.
Tariff and Free Trade ,
We are indebted to the publishers of the
American Working People for the follow
ing beautiful and expressive cartoon :
The accompanying farm scene is reality.
It shows what we were and what we are ;
what we are and what we may become. It
is truth itself, and the tens of thousands
of farmers know it. The manufacturers
and workingmen know it. Three times
this nation has been tossed into bankrupt
cy and poverty while English capitalists
stood and looked on, and laughed at us,
and rattled our hard-earned American gold
in their well-filled pockets. And while
they stood chuckling at our short-sighted
ness, American workingmen were idle and
starving, and American farmers were re
duced to poverty.
Three times in our national history we
have been led by the nose by English so
phistry into natlbnal poverty. In 1816-18
we were so far reduced that Gen. Jackson
exclaimed, "Where has the American far
mer a market for his surplus products ?
I jan.l2ll
Except for cotton, he has neither a foreign
nor a home market. Common sense points
out a remedy. Draw from agriculture the
superabundant labor, employ it in median
ism and manufactures, thereby creating a
home market for your bread.tuffa, and you
at once give a home market for more bread
stuffs than all Europe now furnishes. We
have been too long subject to the policy of
British merchants. It is time we should
become a little more Americanized, and
instead of feeding the paupers and laborers
of Europe, feed our own, or else in a short
time, by continuing our present policy, we
shall be paupers ourselves." So thought
and spoke General Jackson.
The people demanded protection and
got it, but in a few years smooth-tongued
politicians and well-fed English agents
poured into the American ear oil while she
slept in her prosperous senuritythe
deathly oil of free trade—which, so rapidly
through the veins and arteries of its body
did it course, that in 18371:Kinks collapsed,
merchants were penniless, workingmen
were idle and people starved.
Ulu Atog-grlltr.
Eva, The Mason's Child.
CHAPTER I
Faster and fester spread the flames, and
now the ship was enveloped in a fiery sheet.
Men and women rushed madly over the
side to meet a quicker but less painful
death. The boats, with one exception,
had been overladen and capsized. There
were hasty prayers, and heart-rending cries
of misery and distress. Death hovered,
vulture-like, over his victims; some clung
desperately to the vessel's side, some sup
porting themselves in the water by articles
hastily snatched from the burning ship,
and with which they had leaped wildly
into the sea. The captain sang through
his trumpet, "Take heart and sustain your
self as long as possible. A ship is coming
to our relief."
James Durant stood upon the almost de
serted deck with his only child, but four
years of age, folded closely in his arms.
His eyes swept the horizon in search of
the ship to which the captain had alluded.
He discovered it at last, but it was at least
four miles off, Before the ship could ar
rive, they must be burned to death ; or, if
he sprang, as others had, down into the
water, both he and the child would be
drowned, for he was not a swimmer.
_ _
The little arms were twined about his
neck, the pale cheek rested confidingly
against his own, but the brave child did
not tremble,
"0, my God, is there po help ?" cried
the despairing father,
as the flames swept
nearer, and he felt that his present position
could be held but a little longer.
"Here, give the child to me, and I will
save her," and turning quickly, Mr. Durant
stood face to face with a stranger who had
a life preserver in his hand.
Aichls-tf
Quick ! there is no time to be lost! The
child can have my life preserver, and it
will float her easily. Yonder is another
ship ; I have been watching it for the last
five minutes. It will reach us in half an
hour at the most. There, that is fastened
securely. Now, little girl, lam going to
throw you into the water. You aro not
afraid?"
"No, no, bat papa?"
The father caught her frantically in his
arms.
"My darling Eva, you may never see
your father again ; but do not fear—kod
will guard you, and somebody will find
you and take care of you. If you never see
papa again, remember he is in heaven with
mamma."
"Has she no relatives ? asked the stran
ger.
And yet the country was overflowing
with British free trade goods, tantalizing
the hungry eyes of penniless men. Mills,
factories, workshops, were everywhere clo
sed. Farmers were everywhere in pover
ty; farms, mills, shops, goods, stocks were
everywhere sold for taxes and executions.
The country tottered on the very verge
of national bankruptcy. The people saw
once more their error, and prayed that if
saved from this evil they would never fall
down in the desert and worship the golden
calf of British free trade. They recovered
and grew in wealth, but they again forgot
of their poverty, and in 1846 we again en
tered the fatal maelstrom of free trade.—
Sweetly on we glided for a few years, on
the outer edge of the seductive current,
scarcely noticing the under current that
was drawing us by degrees rapidly onward-
In 1851 we began to feel ourselves go
ing, but the gold storm of California held
us in check for awhile, but even it was not
strong enough, and we rapidly swept on,
and in, and down, until the dreary days of
1856-57, when soup houses filled the land I
TARlFF—Market at Your Door.
instead of mills and factories; when crest
fallen workingmen with brawny aril a were
compelled to eat this humble bread of
Charity and degradation. The single vote
of a body of men called Congress brought
us to this poverty in each instance.
In the picture before us we see the ef
fects of free trade With a market across the
ocean. An oddly matched couple of faded
and dispirited brutes, who evidently think
they have enough to do to stand up on
their legs, are urged on by a ragged and
more dispirited farmer to drag a plow. One
is a broken down stage horse which years
ago, before railroads became the medium
of travel and exchange, was sold to the
farmer for five or ten dollars to drag out
his miserable existence. His companion
is a mule of equally questionable antece
dents, and looks to be a fit candidate for
the highest honors of the boneyard.
The cabin where the farmer and his
wife and children stay—not live—is a hov
el, around the unprotected door of which
hogs, children and chickens meet. The
fences are broken down and the bridge in
"None in this country. I am from Eng
land, and am traveling for her health."
"Take that pin from your bosom and
fasten it to her clothing."
"Heaven help yon for the thought,"
said the father, and in a moment the square
and compass was glistening on the bosom
of the child, and the stranger took her
from her father's arms, saying : "I am
stronger than you. She must be cast be
yond the reach of these poor drowning
wretches, or they will rob her of her litb
preserver."
The white drapery fluttered through the
air, and sank below the waves ; then rising,
it floated lightly on the waters.
James turned to the stranger with tear
ful eyes.
"May God bless you and preserve you,
noblest of men. But you, as well as my
self, must be lost !"
"No, I am a good swimmer, and here is
a piece of board with which you can sus
tain yourself until relief shall arrive."
The father took another glance at the
white speck floating rapidly away, and with
an inward "God preserve her !" sprano. ° in
to the sea, followed by the stranger. But 1
the two floated in different directions, and
they saw each other no more.
Two hours later James Durant awoke,
as from the sleep of death, and found him
self in the cabin of a strange ship, with
strange and sympathizing faces all around
him. In a moment he realized all that
had passed, and said eagerly, though fee
bly: "My child, little Eva, is she safe?"
There was no response, and a low moan
escaped the father's lips.
"Courage, sir," sal4 a lady with tearful
eyes, "some of the passengets were saved
by another ship."
The father's countenance lighted. "God
grant that she may be safe."
Durant recovered his usual strength in
few hears, and sought among the saved
for the stranger v/ho had proved himself
so true a Masonic Brother, but he was not
to be found.
"He must be on the other ship," said
Mr. Durant, "and he will care for my
Eva."
Both ships were at port the following
day, but although Mr. Durant found the
stranger who had befriended him, and who
proved to be a Mr. Wadsworth from a
Southern city, Eva was seen by no one,
and was given up as lost.
CHAPTER 11.
11Here, wife, is a child that has just
been washed upon the beach. She is cold
And stiff, but think sbe is not yet dead.
Let have some warm flannels iupuedi z
ately, and tell Thomas to ruu for. Dr,
Hunt 1"
It was long before the quivering lashes
HUNTINGDON, PA., FEBRUARY 21, 1872
the distance is in ruins. The mill, once
the scene of busy industry, is idle and in
ruins. The farmer raises a little Indian
corn. Vlap-jacks and pork is his diet.—
There is no enterprise or business activity.
He has no incentive to exertion. There
are none to buy from him. The working
people are out of employment and have no
money. He must send his produce to
Europe, but it is not needed there, for the
pauper labor of Europe can raise corn and
wheat cheaper than he.
He cannot build a fine house, nor buy
the cheap English goods because he can
earn no money, and in the very midst of
cheapness he is in rags and poverty. Far
mers of America, are not these facts ;
workingmen of America, are not thew
facts ? We appeal to the days of 1856
and 1857 for proof.
But let us close our eyes from this dis
mal picture and look on the opposite one.
For aught we can tell it is the same man than we. can send her. American work
we see and the same place that is before lug people cannot buy because they are
no. We see a sight to be seen on ten thrown out of work and are out of money
thousand of farms throughout the States and idle. Who will the farmer s ell to ?_
FREE TRADE—Market Across the Ocean.
of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, lowa,
Michigan and other States. There is a
joyous farmer and proud horses who look
and step. as though they knew that a plen
tiful feed of oats awaited them at evening.
There is a moving train in the distance
carrying the products of agricultural and
mechanical industry. There is a woolen
Trill with its five hundred pairs of busy
hands, an iron mill beyond it with its two
thousand men before hot furnaces and
thundering rolls. These mills are the types
of American civilization and American in
dependence. They speak tariff and a mar
ket at our own door.
The two thousand hands provide sup-
port for at least ten thousand people. The
iron made goes over the country and pro
vides employment for the support of at
least a hundred thousand people. Cut
down an iron mill, and all those who ob
tain employment out of it directly and in
directly, are deprived of employment and
have no means to buy.
These men in woolen mills and iron mills
must be fed. They eat corn and wheat
and feeble fluttering of the heart gave
token that success would crown the efforts
or Eva's rescuers; but, by and by the lids
parted, and revealed two large, liquid,
sky blue eyes, that watidered from Awe to
face in a bewildered way, and then closed
wearily.
"I fear she will not recover very rapid
ly," said the doctor. "She has a delicate
constitution, and will require the best of
care."
ii.Pqor child," said Mrs. Turuer, s J do
nqt wqnder she is nearly dead. But who
can she be ? "Some terrible accident must
have occurred at sea."
"You had better examine her clothing,"
said the doctor, "perhaps you can find
some clue to her relations."
"Mrs. Turner lifted the gossamer white
dress, and turned it over and over. The
square and compass placed there by Mr.
Durant flashed upon the eyes of all at once.
The doctor and Mr. Turner looked at each
other, but neither spoke, and Mrs. Turner
did not notice the tear that glistened in
her husband's eye.
The doctpr's tears that Eva would not
recover rapidly proved to be too well
founded. Days and weeks of fever suc
ceeded in awakening her to life, during
which she talked incoherently of "papa"
and of "poor mamma," and of the "burn
ing ship," and of "hunger." She finally
awoke to consciousness, and asked many
questions as to where she was, and how
she came in the dark room, and who were
those who attended her, but Dr. Hunt for
bade her being questioned until she was
stronger.
How interested were all in the little
canvalescent, whom the elements had cast
into the little seaboard town. The ladies
declared that never before did a child
possess such lovely eyes or such beautiful
curls, while the gentlemen seemed no less
interested, and brought her gifts of every
thing that might please her childish fancy.
"My dear little girl," said Dr. Hunt,
when Eva was at length able to ride out,
"will you toll me your name?"
_ _
"Eia," said the child, "I thought you
knew it."
"Yes, I know your name is Era, but I
want to know the rest of your num—your
father's name."
"Eva Durant, Mr. Durant is my papa."
"Yes, I want you to tell me all you can
remember about your father and mother."
Eya's eyes filled with tears : cigh, sir,
my mamma died and went to live with the
angels. And I do not know where papa is:
He said if I never saw him again I must
know he had gone to mamma."
"Where were you when he told you
this ?"
.04 the ship; and oh, the fire burned
me so; and papa held me in his arms un-
and beef and pork. Farmers must bring
more ground under, cultivation for every
new mechanic that finds employment in a
mill or shop. It is to the farmer's inter
est to have manufacturing increase. The
more manufacturers and working people,
the greater demand is there for his corn
and wheat and pork. If there were no
manufactories or iron works in this coun
try, he could sell nothing. Each man
would raise his own. But give us a work
ingman and we must have a farmer to
keep him in victuals. Notwithstanding
this, there are many farmers who believe
that they would get richer by having free
trade which would destroy manufacturing
and the employment of all people engaged
in it. They say they could then buy things
cheaper from England. How could they?
Where would they get money to pay for
them ? Not from England, because Eng
land can get cheaper corn from Europe
To no one. He raises just enough to keep
himself, and those whg have saved money
iu better times are taxed to support soup
horses to keep the soul and body together
of men who would willingly work if they
tr..uld get it. We would then be doing
just as General Jackson said, viz : "Sup
porting foreign paupers while making
worse paupers of the American working
people,"
God forbid that such may ever be the
fate of America. But while we read, hun
dreds of British agents and recreant, soul
less, avaricious Americans are fighting
night and day, disseminating tracts and
spreading doctrines and buying up papers
for the disseminating of principles designed
to overturn the system of protection to
American industries. They are dealing
out quietly their sugar-coated poison, and
winning adherents who believe that a free
trade law will bring them cheapness and
plenty, No greater delusion exists. It
will bring as it has brow;.ht, poverty, star
vation and misery.
til a strange man took me and tied some
thing under my arms and threw me into
the water, and I have not seen papa since.
0, sir, can you tell me where he is ?"
! , No, dear child; but perhaps we way
yet find him."
_ _
And this was all that Eva's new friend
could discover. It was plain she had come
from the ship which had been burned a
few weeks before ; that she had been cast
upon the sea, and floated to the shore;
but where was her fatliep ? Had he been
saved, and was he searching foi his child ?
Every possible effort was now made to find
him. The circumstances of the case, with
the statement of the child, were published
fully in the newspapers of the neighbor
ing cities, but the grief-stricken rather, be
lieving his child to be lost, had sailed a
week before for Europe, and it soon be
came settled in the minds of Eva's protec
tors, that he had perished. But the lit
tle one still prattled abut her "papa,"
and said he would come by-and-by. Those
who believed differently would not pain
her by contradiction,
The square and compass that had been
found upon her clothing was regarded as a
powerful appeal from a Mason to his
brethren to care for his child. So it came
to pass that Eva became, as it were, the
special charge of Hiram Lodge, No. 93,
Mr, Turner would gladly have taken the
entire care of the little waif, and the
weathly Senator 11 , - reqested to be al
lowed to adopt her as his daughter, but
the Brethren in Lodge assembled, declar
ed by a vote that Eva should be reared,
educated and protected by the Lodge, and
that as Providence had placed her in
Brother Turner's house, that should be
her home.
And so years went by, and Eva be
came a healthy, joyous child, flitting here
and there, and everywhere meeting the
warmest of welcomes. The Masonic Hall
was but a few rods from Mr. Turner's res
idence, and Eva went with him as far as
the dear, and then returned alone always
bidding the Tyler "take good care of Pa
Turner, and send him home early."
CHAPTER
The six years that followed the death
aids wife and the loss of his child, pass
ed wearily to James Durant. He visited
nearly every country in the Old World,
seeking among the scones ot , natural beau
ty and grandeur as well as of historic in
terest, for the mental rest which could
never be found. Once more he turned his
steps toward America, and Rltight his
Masonic pliend, Wadsworth. Vinding
that gentleman abotit setting out with his
family on a journey to the Atlantic Nast,
Mr, POPO agoepted the invitation to ac
company them to Saratoga and Niagara,
then to New York, where, leaving the
ladies, Mr. Wadsworth and Mr. Durant
wandered from town to town along the
coast, enjoying the beauty of the scenery
and the quiet hospitality that greeted
them more than the crowded hotels and
the fashionable style of the popular water
ing places—fancy, and the kind hand of
Providence at length led them to the little
town of B----, and the second evening
after their arrival they visited the Mason
ic Lodge. A warm welcome was extend
ed to these Brethern from such a distance
and both were invited to address the
Lodge. Mr. Durant said :
"Brethren, I have traveled much and
long. I have found Masonic sympathy in
every part of the globe, and everywhere
is Masonry substantially the same. I can
hardly tell where I reside. The world
seems to be my home, as I remain but a
short time in any town or country, bat my
name is recordid in an English Lodge. I
love my English Brethren, for they first
brought me "from darkness to light," and
I love English soil, for within it sleeps the
wife of my youth. Bat I love American
soil, also, for here have I found the warm
est of welcomes, the kindest of brethren.
And, too, my own child is sleeping in
American waters, even beneath the very
waves that wash the shores of your beau
tiful village.
"Six years have passed since this dear
friend and brother rubbed himself of his
life preserver, that my little Eva might
perhaps escape. and we hoped the elements
might be kind, and that. heaven would
send her relief; but she wos never heard
of more."
The voiceof Mr. Durant was quivering
with emotion, and unable to speak further,
he seated himself and covered his fare with
his hands.
Glances of surprise and pleasure were
cast from one to the other among the
Brethren of Hiram Lodge. No one spoke,
however, be: all eyes were turned upon
the Master, Mr. Turner. For a moment
he seemed reflecting; then taking a .slip
of paper from the Secretary he wrote :
"Mrs. Turner—Do not allow Eva to re
tire until I return home; tell her lam
going to bring a strange gentleman who
wishes to see her. And calling Jun. Dea
con, Mr. Turner gave him the note, say
ing in a low voice :
"Take this note to Mrs. Turner imme
diately."
"Why, Eva," said Mrs. Turner, when
she had read the message, "you are -going
to have company. A strange gentleman
is at the Lodge-room who wishes to see
you."
"Who can it be ?"
Eva looked perplexed and thoughtful.
Suddenly her_ cheeks flushed, her eyes
lighted, and clapping her little hands, she
sprang to her feet and exclaimed, "Oh, it
must be paps ! no one else would wish to
see me; no one in the world ;" and before
Mrs. Turner comprehended the child's in
terpretation. she had passed the threshhold
and was flitting through the moonlight
toward the Lndge-room. The Tyler look
ed amazed when Eva burst into the ante
room, her cheeks burning, her eyes flash
ing with joy and excitement.
"Do not stop me; I am going in !" she.
exclaimed. But the inner door was fast
ened, and the impatient Eva nearly cried
with vexation.
Wait a moment said the Tyler, who
having heard nothing of what had trans
pired within, was at a loss to account for
the strange conduct of the child ; "wait a
moment, and I will send your request to
Mr. Turner. He will come out and coo
you."
"I shall not wait! I do not want to see
Mr. Turner; I want to see my papa."
"The child is crazy, that is evident,"
said the perplexed Tyler to himself; but
calling out the deacon, he bade him say
that Eva was there and had determined
to get into the Lodge-room.
The deacon went to the East, and de
livered his message in a low tone, and a
moment afterward moved "that the craft
be called from labor to refreshment,"
"Now," said Mr. Turner, "tell the Ty
ler to let her come in."
And Eva did come, or rather bounded,
into the hall, more beautiful in her ex
citement than ever before. She advanced
to the center of the room and stood beside
the altar ; huff poised upon the tiny foot
she scanned rapidly the faces of all. Her
eager eyes soon detected the strangers,
who were seated behind each other, and
for a moment she seemed irresolute, then
darting forward with a glad cry, she
threw her arms about the neck of Mr.
Durant, crying, "Oh, papa! my dear papa!
you have come home at last You were
not burned ill the ship !"
We will not attempt to paint the scene
further, but will leave our readers to im
agine the joy of the fond father, and also
leave them to decide whether the tears that
wet the cheeks of the brethren of Hi
ram Lodge were caused by sympathy with
the happiness of their little charge, or
grief that they should lose one whom they
ail loved.
ut* for the A; Win.
Jim Wolf and the Tom Cats
I knew by the sympathetic glow upon his
bald head—l knew by the thoughtful looks
upon his face—l knew by the emotional flush
upon the strowbOrry on the end of the free
lOver's nose, that Simon Wheeler's memory
was busy with the olden times. And so I pre
pared to leave, because all these were symp
toms of a reminiscence—signs that he was
going to be delivered of another of his tire
some personal experiences ; but I was too
slow, he got the start of me. As nearly as I
can recollect, the infliction was couched in the
following language :
We were all boys then and didn't care for
nothing, and didn't worry about nothing, only
to shirk school and keep up in a rcTivin' state
of devilment all the time. This yer Jim Wolf
I was talking about was the 'prentice, And he
was the best hearted feller, lig was, and the
most forglvin' aoti unselfish I ever see ; well
there couldn't have been a bullier boy than he
was, take him how you would, and sorry, sor
ry enough was I when I saw bim for the last
time. Me and Harry was always pestering
him, and plastering Loss bills on his back, and
putting bumble-bees in his bed, and goon, and
sometimes we'd crowd id and bunk with him,
notwithstanding his giowling, and we'd let on
to get mad and tight across him, so as to keep
him stirred up like. He was nineteen ;he was
long, and lank, and bashful, and we was four
teen and sixteen, tolerably worthless and lazy.
So that night, you know, that spy ulster Mary
gave a candy pullin',thoy started us off to bed
tally, so as Oa company could have full swing,
and we run into Jim to have some fen.
Our window looked out onto the roof of the
ell, and about ten o'clock a couple of old tom
cats got rarin' and chorgin' ithont it, and car
rying en like slit. There was four inches of
snow on the roof, and it was frozen so that
there was a right smart crust qf ice on it, and
the moon was shining bright, and we could
Beg Them eats like daylight. First they'd stand
off and e-yow pow wow, just the same as if
they were a cussin' one another, you know,
and bow up theirbacksand push up their tails,
and swell round, and spit, and then, all of a
sudden, the gray cat he'd snatch a hendfu,
of fur of the yaller cat's ham, and spin him
round like the button on a barn door; but the
yaller cat was game, and he'd come and clinch,
and the way they'd gouge and bite and howl,
and the way they'd make the fur fly was pow
erful.
Well, Jim he was disgusted with this row,
and 'lowed he'd climb out there and shake 'em
off 'en the roof. Ile hadn't reely no notion of
doin ' it but we everlastingly dogged him, and
'lowed he'd always bragged how he would not
take a dare, and so on, till bimeby he histed
up the winder, and 10, behold you, he went—
went exactly as he was, nothing on butashirt,
and it was short. But you ought to a seen
him creeping over that ice, and diggin' his toe
nails in to keep from slippin' ; and above all
you oi.ght to have seen that shirt-tail flappin'
in the wind, and them long, ridiculous shanks
of his glistening in the moonlight.
Them company folks was down there under
the eaves, the whole squad of 'em under that
ornery shed of old Washington Bower vines—
all sett:n' round about two dozen sassers of hot
rady, which they'd so, in the snow to cool.
And they was all laughin' and talkie' lively;
but, bless you, they didn t know nothing about
the panorama that was goin' on over their
heads. Well,Jim went sneakin' up unbeknown
to the tom cats—they were a swishin' their
tails, you yowin'—and tryin' to clinch you
know, and not payin' any attention—he went
sneakin' right to the comb of the roof, till he
was in within a foot and a half of 'em, and
then all of a sudden he made a grab for the
yaller cat l—But, by gosh I he missed fire and
slipped, his heels flew up, and he flopped on his
back, and he went off 'n that roof like a dart
—went a slashin' and a crashin' down through
them old rusty vines, and landed in the cen
tre of Own company people!—sat down like a
earthquake iu them two dozen sassers of red I
hot candy, and let off a howl which was hark
from the tomb ! Them gals—well, they look
ed you know. They teen he wasp' dressed for
company, and so they left. All done in a sec
ond. It was just one little war whoop and a
wisk of their dresses, and blame the wench of
'em was in sight, anywhere.
Jim be was a sight. Ile was gormed with
bilin' hot molasses candy clean down to his
heels, and had more busted gassers haagin' to
hint than if he was an Injun princess—and lie
came a prancing up stairs, just a hoppin' and
a cussin', and every one he made ho shed some
china, and every squirm he fetched he dropped
some candy I
And blistered I Why bless your soul, that
poor creature couldn't reelly set down fer as
much as four weeks.
Tha Alabama Muddle
In the Washington correspondence of the
Now York Times yesterday appeared the
following, which fully explains the cause
for all the recent excitement in this coun
try in the relation to England and the
treaty . . -
The friendly communication to the Gov
ernment of the United States, regarding
the interpretation of the Treaty of Wash
ington, alluded to in the Queen's speech,
consists, so fair as in this Government is
yet advised, of a note from Earl Granville
to Gen. Schenck, the substance of which
the latter communicates by telegraph.
This note is not in the nature of a demand,
nor even a request that there shall be any
withdrawal of the claims for indirect dam
ages. It alludes to the excitement in the
public mind and in the press on the sub
ject, and ascribes it to the different inter
pretation put upon the treaty by the United
States from that which it received at the
hands of the English gavernment. This
simply gives this Government an opportu
nity, if it desires, of making an explana
tion, or even of withdrawing that part of
the case which is the subject of misinter
pretation, but there is no demand on the
part of the English government that such
action should be taken. No reply has yet
been made. The subject was informally
talked over in the Cabinet meeting to-day,
and the expression of the members of the
Cabinet was quite unanimous that the re
ference of all claims and questions to the
Geneva Tribunal was absolute, and that to
that body must he left the question of re
jecting or allowing the claims known as
"indirect losses." When a reply is made,
this will be the position taken. The Pres
ident is very firm on this point, and he is
unanimously supported by his Cabinet, and
by all the Republican strength in Con
gress, including Mr. Sumner and General
Banks. The opinion is nowhere entertained
here that the British Government will is
gist upon such a thing as a withdrawal of
this part of the case of the United States.
The feeling is quiet and Arm, and there is
probably less excitement here over the i.`-
nation than anywhere else.
The following are the telegraph dis
patches which have passed between Minis
ter Schenck and Secretary Fish, alluded to
in the above correspondence. They are
taken from the New York Telegram of last
evening :
LONDON, Englan4, Feb. 5, 1872.
To the lion. namilton Fish, Secretary of
• State, Washington, D. C. :
Sin—ln view of the expression of opin
ion as to what the action of Great Britain
should be in reference to the Geneva Con
ference, on the part of Chief Justiee Cock
burn and the general tone of the English
press, I desire to he officially informed
whether the Government of the United
States will in any degree recede from its
claims for indemnity as recently presented.
Your obedient servant,
ROBERT M. SCHENCK,
Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Pleni
potentinry.
THE REPLY.
DEPARTMENT OF STATE,
WASHINGTON, D. C., Feb. 5, 1872.
To Ron. Robert Schenck, Envoy Ex-
traordinary and Minister Plenipotentia
ry of United States, London, England :
grw:—YOn are authorized to'affirill that
in no event will the Government of the
United States recede from the position it
has taken in relation to the Washington
Treaty. Your obedient servant,
HAMILTON Ftsu,
Secretary of State.
A YANIEEX THICK .—A story is told of P 312 1.
Western "bloods," with more wit than ready
cash, who went into a saloon a few day's ago,
and "wined" themselves to the extent of sev
eral dollar's worth of liquor. The liquor be
ing drank the next question was the pay for
it, and after a few moments consultation one
of the quartette called the waiter and asked
for the bill. One thrust his hand in his pock
et, as if to draw out his purse; the second
prevented him, declaring he would pay, and the
third did the same, rho fourth forbade the
waiter taking any money from either of them,
hut all three persisted. As none would yield,
one said, "the best way to decide the matter
is to blindfold the waiter and whoever he apt
catches shall settle the bill." This p,roposition
was accepted and while the waiter was grop
ing his way strew; the room, they all slipped
out of tbc, house, and left the waiter in the
lurch.
A "coos exile of Erin," hungry and cold,
entered a barber-shop, ate, with the brush, a
cup of lather, dug out the soap-ball -at the
bottom of the cup—ate that—and sat down to
warm his feet 1 Then an astonished observer
mustered his scattered wits and asked, "Hoe
did you like your lunch ?" Says Pat, "The
custard was illegant ; but, by me soul, I blare
the egg was a little too long in the wather."
A darkey says, "all men are made of clay;
and, like meerschaum-pipes, are more valua
ble when highly colored."
NO. 8,
Bht TOM firth.
"Nellie is Dead !"
These were the words that followed the
midnight knock at the door of our room.
The young girl whom we had seen daily
for months, going about the house, taith
ful to her humble duties, and singing
light-heartedly amid her cares—and now
dead !—dead while life was new, and hope
bright, and the untried future all before
her. Only two short days before well, and
now—dead. One of those sudden and ter
rible maladies that fasten on the very seat
of life had seized her, and she had been
hurried from life with appalling sudden
ness. We went to the chamber of death.
She had no mother or sister there, but
those bound to her by the common sym
pathies of humanity had smoothed the pil
low and wiped the death damps from her
brow. The members of the househould
and a kind-hearted lady of the neighbor
hood stood about the bed. No care of
nursing, no skill of physician had availed.
The white face upturned toward heaven—
the closed eyes that should behold no more
on earth—the folded hands that had done
with their tasks. Poor Nellie : With
out, the moonbeams flooded the earth with
their white radiance,—the pitying stars
looked down—the melancholy night wind
wailed like a dirge. How poor and pur
poseless seemed life and its pursuits—how
earth faded away and eternity came near.
Looking on all this, and on the face of the
por dead child, how comforting to believe
that after her suffering she had been taken
by the hand, and by the Father led up the
pleasant paths that fp to the garden of His
land—Belfast Journal.
Last Words of Cookman,
•I am sweeping through the gates, wash
ed in the blood of the Lamb :" This was
the valedictory of the sainted Alfred Cook
man. Could there be anything grander
He has been preaching, singing, testifying
to this Blood Divine for many years. No
sweeter spirit. ere wore flesh about him. *
He bad a vision of his father, the celebra
ted preacher, George G. Cookman, who
was lost in the "President," his eldest
brother, and a son, whom he heard saying,
"Here is Alfred, washing in the blood of
the Lamb."
But his last words were grandest of all.
What could surpass in power of faith and
being, such a holy triumph. No wildness,
no weariness, no doubt, no extravagance.
It was a grand procession in which he
marched, a steadfast wing on which he was
sailing. "I am sweeping through the
gates."—Sweeping like a triumphant cav
alcade; sweeping like at all spirit, "washing
in the blood of the Lamb" no wavering
here. He knew on whom he had believ
ed; he knew by whom he was cleansed;
he know how he was at those gates at all.
—Zion's Herald.
IT is not death to have the body called
back to the earth, and dissolved into its
kindred elements, and mouldered to dust,
and, it may be turned to daisies, in the
grave. But it is death to have the soul
paralyzed, its inner life quenched. its fite
ulties dissipated; that is death. What is
blindness? Is it blindness merely not to
see with the outer eye ? Was Milton blind
when he saw the angels of God and all the
beautiful ones of the spiritual world in all
their brightness before his soul's inner vis
ion ? Is it deafness merely not to hear the
outer world, when you can hear God's
voice of approval, cheering you, and the
words "Well done, good and faithful ser
vant ? But it is deafness, and blindness,
and death itself to have all our moral na
ture utterly dissipated and wasted away.
SOME of the happiest hours of my life
have been passed in my library,and I nev
er enter it without feelinr , upon my brow
airs that blow from some better world than
ours. My books have been friends that
never failed me in the hour of need ; they
have assuaged the sting of disappointment
and pouring balm into the wounds of sor
row; they have refreshed me when weary
and soothed me when chafed; they have fed
me with bread that never grew in earthly
furrows, and charmed me with flowers that
never bloomed in earthly gardens.—Ext.
from Hon. Geo. S. Hillard.
STRANGELY do some people talk of getting
over a great sorrow; overleaping it, pass
ing it by, thrusting it into oblivion. Not
so. No one ever does that—at least no na
ture which can be touched by the feeling
of grief at all, The only way is to pass
through the ocean of affliction solemnly,
slowly, with humility and faith, as the Is
raelites passed through the sea. Then its
very waves of misery will divide and be
come to ua a wall on the right side and on
the left, until the gulf narrows before our
eyes, and we land safe on the opposite
shore.---Miss .lhtlock.
CONDEMN no man for not thinking as
you think. Let every one enjoy the free
liberty of thinking for himself. Let every
man use his own judgment, since every
man must give an account of himself to
God, Abhor every approach, in every
kind or degree, to the spirit of persecu
tion. If you cannot reason or persuade a
man into the truth, never attempt to force
him into it. If love will not compel him
to come, leave him to God the judge of
all.
REMEMBER IT are al
ways misunderstandings. Therefore it is
wise and prudent to leave nothing to be
imagined or inferred or supposed ; but
everything expressed plainly. Hums),
reason is very imperfect; memory is not
infallible, and the best friends are often
separated because one misunderstands the
thing one way and the other another.
IN nine eases out of ten, where married
men become drunkards, or where they
commit crimes against the peace of the
community the foundation of these acts
was laid while in a single state, or where
the wife is, as is sometimes the case, an un
suitable match. Marriage changes the
current of a man's feelings and gives hits
a centre for his thoughts, his affections
and his acts.— Voltaire.
Tux willow that bends to the tempest
often escapes better than the oak which
resists it; and so in great calamities, hap
pens that light and frivolous spirits reeov
er their elasticity and presence of mind
sooner than those of a loftier character.—
Walter Scott.
Tits aphorism "Whatever is, is right,"
would be as final as it is lazy, did it not
include the troublesome consequence that
nothing that ever was, was wrong.— Charles
Dickens.