VOL. 47 The Huntingdon Journal. J. R. DURBORROW, °lice on the Corner of Bath and Washington street*. TEE IitTNTINGDON JOURNAL is published CTOTy Wednesday, by J. It. Dunnonitow and T. A. NASH, un ler the firm name of J. R. Denaonttow & Co., at $2,00 per annum, IN ADVANCE, or $2,50 if not paid for in six months from date of subscription, and $3 if not paid within the year. No paper discontinued, unless at the option of the publishers, until all arrearages are paid. ADVERTISEMENTS will be inserted at TEN CENTS per line for each of the first four insertions, end FIVE cm:Ts per line for each subsequent inser tion less than three months. 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JOB PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch.— fland-bills. Blanks, Cards. Pamphlets, Ac., of every variety and style, printed at the shortest notice, and every thing in the Printing line will be execu ted in the most artistic manner and at the lowest rates. Professional Cards. DR. F. 0. ALLEMAN can be con• stilted at his office, at all boars, Mapleton, Pa. [march6,72. CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law, ~•\o. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & Williamson. Lapl2,ll. TAR. J. C. FLEMMING respectfully -.ll—/ offers his professional services to the citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity. Office N 0.743 Wash ingtpn 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. Dan.4,'7l. V . J. GREENE, Dentist. Office re -11A • noosed to Leister's new building, street :I , —ttingdon. [jan.4,ll. L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. A-A • Brcern's new building, No. 520, Hill SL, [npl2,'7l. Huntingdon, Pa. "TT GLAZIER, Notary Public, corner • of Washington and Smith streets, Han [jan.l2'7l. tingdon, Pa. Tr C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law • Othee, No. —, Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa. [ap.19,'71. SYLVANUS BL Ara, Attorney-at • Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office, 11111 street, hree doors west of Smith. [jan.4'7l. R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth c, • ecary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun ingdon, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded. Yuro Liquors for Medicinal purposes. luor.Za,'7o. _1" HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law, it, • No. SD Hill st., Huntingdon, Pa. Dan. 4,71. X R. DIJRBORROW, Attorney-at e, • Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practice in the several Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular attention given to tho settlement of estates of dece dents. °Mee in he JOURNAL Building. [feb.l,7l j W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law c.." • 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. Dan. 4,71. IT' ALLEN LOVELL, Attomey-at .s- • Law, Ifuntingdon, Pa. Special attention given to Commonerns of all kinds ; to the settle ment of Estates, to.; and all other Legal Business prosecuted with fidelity and dispatch. Mr" Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton Speer, Esq. Lian.4,7l. MILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly to all legal burble.s. Office in Cunninghanee new building. Lian.4,7l. R. ALLISON MILLER. n. MILLER St BUCHANAN, DENTISTS, Co. 223 fill Street, HUNTINGDON, PA April 5, '7l-Iy. 1100 M. &M. S. LYTLE, Attorneys -A- • at-Law, Huntingdon, P., 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. Dan.4,'7l. 116 e• A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law, -A-vs Office, 321 Hill etreet, Huntingdon. Pa. [may3l,'7l. JOU.N SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. N. BAILEY 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. Olfloo on Hill street. [jan.4,'7l. fp W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun -A- • tingdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart, 'Esq. [jan.4,'7l. AVILLIAIII A. FLEMING, 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, Cio TO THE JOURNAL. OFFICE , L-A For all kinds of printing. VXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon, - 124 Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor. January 4, 1871. NEAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT, COR. WAYNE and JUNIATA STEEETT UNITED STATES HOTEL, HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA M'CLAIN & CO, PROPRIETORS , R OBT. KING, Merchant Tailor, 412 Washington street, Huntingdon, Pa., a lib eral share of patronage respectfully solicited. A prill2, 1871. LEWISTOWN BOILER WORKS. GEORGE PAWLING & CO., Manufae 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 per, done at short AR. BECK, Fashionable Barber • and Hairdresser, Hill street, opposite the Franklin House. All kinds of Tonics and Pomades kept on hand and for sale. [apl9,'7l-6m .ly attended to. Repairing [Apr 5,11,1 y.. COLORED PRINTING DONE AT N.—/ the Journal Office, at Philadelphia prices _ - i he riuntingdon Journal. UTw glAtro' Paw. J. A. NASH, Little Mary's Wish have seen the first robin of spring, mother dear, And have heard the brown darling sing You said, 'Hear it and wish, and 'twill surely come true ;' So I've wished such a beautiful thing ! I thought I would like to ask something for you; But I couldn't think what there could be That you'd want while you had all these beautiful things; Besides you have papa and me ! So I wished for a ladder; so long that 'twould stand One end by our own cottage door, And the other go up past the moon and the stars. And lean fig:Line Heaven's white floor. Then I'd get you to put on my pretty white dress, With my sash and my darling new shoes, And ' , a find some white roses to take up to God— The most beautiful ones I could choose. And you and dear papa would sit on the ground And kiss me, and tell me 'Good by ;' Then I'd go up the laden-far out of your sight, Till I came io the door in the sky I wonder if God keeps the door fastened tight? But if one little crack I could see, I would whisper, 'Please, God, let this littlegirl in She's as tied as she can be! She came till alone from ete earth to the sky; For she's always been wanting to see The gardens of Heaven with their robins and flowers, Please, tlod, is there room for me? And thcu, when the angels had opened the door, God would say, •L'ring the little child here;' But he'd speak it so softly I'd not be afraid; And he'd mull° just like you, mother dear! Ho would put his kind arms round yocr dear little girl, And I'd ask him to send down for you, And papa, and cousin, and all that I love 0 dear! don't you wish 'Mould come true ?" The next spring -time, when the robins came home, They sang over grass and flowers That grew where the foot of the ladder stood, Whose top reached the heavenly bowers. And the parents had dressed the pale still child For her flight to the summer land, In a fair white rube with one snow white rose Folded tight in her pulseless hand. And now at the foot of the ladder they sit, Looking upward with quiet tears, Till the beckoning hand and the fluttering robe Of the child at the top appears! Atorg-Utller. Barbara Glyd@, CIIAPTER I THE sun was sinking low in the west. It was half-past four o'clock of a Septem ber day. Suddenly the school house door opened and a flock of merry children rush ed out. Away in different directions, laughing and shouting, and pelting each other with leaves and grass . they sped. But let us go inside. The room is not quite empty, for there, at the teacher's desk, sits a slender female figure. The name of the girl sitting there, idle just at this moment, is Barbara Clyde. Isn't she pretty ? Indeed she is; a delicate, slender blos som as sweet and as fair as whom they are but few. Her lips are like crimson ber riesTlO teeth white as pearl ; her cheeks are bright with color, seeming ever ready to take its flight, yet ever resting there ; her eyes are a tender brown, ever bathed in liquid light; in all, hers is a face that is very beautiful. Barbara Clyde's is a brave young life. This monotonous life of teaching a country school is not suited to her. Yet for five years, ever since she was sixteen, she has followed it. Brave Barbara! On a gol3en summer day, a little over five years ago,her father, the village minister, closed his eyes in peaceful death, and a month later the girl's mother followed him. Then it was Bar bara showed her heroism. Besides her self there were left behind two aged per sons, these the parents of the dead father, both utterly helpless, so far as providing for themselves was concerned. So Barbara let the burden of taking care of them fall on her youthful shoulders. There was some consolation. Their home was left to them ; around it was a few acres of orchard and meadow. Well for them that this was so, else Barbara could never have sustained herself and two old people. A home ! that was a great dell, a very great deal. Yes, Barbara was a heroine. Ido not know that I can point you to a nobler life than hers. Instead of sinking beneath the burden of her grief, she bravely went for ward to the performance of her duties. Ah me! the pen of the poet and the novelist have written of love and bravery, but this girl's quiet life is as worthy a theme as any of theirs. It was not a light thing that she who had scarcely borne a burden of a feather weight in all her young life, should have thrown upon her the care of two lives besides her own. I repeat, "Brave Barbara !" There was something of weariness ex pressed in her attitude as she sat by her desk this afternoon. Wherfore not ? Bar bara was patient enough, truly, but six hours spent with a score of children of all kinds of dispositions will weary any one. The girl could not help being tired, though never a word of complaint would she ut ter. It wasn't the mere fact of labor alone that fatigued her. It was its unsuitability. Shutting her up in the narrow walls of the school-room was like confining a bird in a cage. If she could have roamed through forest and field, sketching them, as she delighted to do when she had an opportunity, it. would have been far better fur her; or if she could have had a class of music, that would have been far pre ferable, for she loved mnsic with all her heart. But this tedious routine of a coun try school was irksome to her, more irk some than she would have confessed.• Don't think that the girl pined on ac count of her lot. Not at all! on the con trary she was generally blithe and cheerful. Can you blame her that on some occasions, like this evening, she was ready to cry out that she could not endure it any longer. Then, further, she had no companion ship suitable to her disposition, gentle and refined as it was. The people of the vil lage were kind enough, but rude and un cultivated in their manners. And her grand parents were old to childishness, so that she could not look to them for com panionship. What wonder then that life seemed void and barren, naught of ro mance or poetry about it, all hard, dry reality, as it were; a hard battling' even for the common comforts of existence. Then I say, blame her not, that sometimes an unexpressed longing came to her for something else than what she had. She deserved that sweetly perfumed flowers should be strewn along her path ; instead there were more thorns than blossoms. Not music and poetry were hers, but in stead the toilsome drudgery of the school room was her daily lot Mchls-tf The sun was not far from the horizon when she went out from the school-house. She took her way along the smooth, hard road toward her home, which was in the outskirts of the village. The school-house was, perhaps, a quarter of a mile from it. The scene was quite a pretty one ; a stretch of orchard and field with here and there a farm house, while ahead of her the village lay peacefully quiet. Her spirits grew lighter than they had been, and began to hum a merry little tune She was interrupted by the clatter of horses' hoofs coming down the road. She stopped, and looking back beheld, a short distance behind her a party of half-dozen young folks. In a few moments they had overtaken her, and were just passing, when one of the gentlemen dropped his whip.— He leaped ofFinstantly and picked it up. Then he bowed to Barbara. Barbara returned his bow very respect fully, and kept on her way. The gentle man remounted, and the party rode off slowly. "I believe you did that purposely, Hol land," Barbara heard another of the young gentlemen say. "And I too," chimed in the young lady who was riding with the gentleman just speaking. "Perhaps I did," Holland replied; "at any rate I am well paid for my pains—for by my word, that was as fair a face as ever I looked upon." - Barbara . heard no more. She blushed a little resentfully at what she had heard.— Then her momentary anger vanished, and she concluded, very philosophically, that if the gentleman wished to consider her pretty, he was welcome to do so. Then she decided that these people must be tem porary boarders of Mrs. Comstock's, whose pleasant cottage on the opposite side of the village to her own home, was sometimes the resort of those who sought for a time the pleasures of the country, having left the dust and smoke of the city behind them. CHAPTER II It was Saturday, a holiday for Barbara. The mo.ninz was a beautiful one, and she was on her way for a ramble through the fields and into the forest, probably. On, on she went, not caring much whither she should go, till she came to the edge of the woods. Then she stopped. and looked about her. Several paths were before her, with all of which she was familiar. "I will go to the glen," she murmured, presently. Then taking one of the paths she con tinued to ramble slowly along. After the lapse of some time she reached a ery pic turesque spot. It was a grassy dell through which flowed a little liquid stream, clear as depths of crystal. The dell was dyer shadowed by huge trees, whose shade made the place deliciously pleasant and cool. ICarbara seated lie;self on a stone close by the stream; and taking a book from her pocket, began to read. It was a little blue and gold volume of Tennyson's poems, that she owned. She had read it many times over with a fresh delight. To day she pe- rused here and there a portion. . . At longth she -kJ. tho volume full into. her lap, and her eyes became dreamily fix ed on the murmuring brook. The poet spoke of something that she had never re alized. Love! oh, love ! what knew she of that ? The story of "Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat," was all a mystery to her. Looking all around upon her world there was no Sir Lancelot for her. (I speak of the Lancelot of Elaine, and not of Guine vere.) Then with a sly blush Barbara wondered if the romance would ever come to her life. The fair young face was trou bled as she thought that it seemed very probable that it would not. And that trouble was natural. Oh, the human heart is so created that it instinctively pants for love. Would that none should ever be robbed of that sweetest portion. Barbara sighed. A girl might tell you why she let her eyes fall then on a face, sweetly fair, the image of her own, that was reflected back to her from the brook, lam sure I cannot. Shall I hazard a guess? Well she was wondering probably, if the face she saw there was fair enough fur her Sir Lancelot to love, if he should ever come. You are saying that “My Barbara is not quite an angel after all." Indeed she is not. She couldn't help knowing that she was pretty however. And I may as well add, that there is a certain shy sweetness, womanly vanity, if you please, that I like. Barbara lifted her eyes from the water and saw—a gentleman standing ten feet from her. She gave a little cry—of as tonishment rather than alarm. "I wish you a very good morning, Miss Clyde," said the gentleman coolly. "I beg your pardon, sir," said Barbara, "but I have not the pleasure of your ac quaintance; therefore I cannot call your name." By this time Barbara was quite as cool as be was. "My name is Holland," the gentleman returned. "I met you in the road the other evening, when I dismounted to get my whip—perhaps you have not forgot ten." "I have not forgotten the occurrence," Barbara replied; "but—" "Ah ! yes, I see," Holland put in as she paused, "but the personage you haw." "Well ?" "I haven't forgotten you." But my name-7". "Oh, I learned it." Barbara had risen to her feet, causing her book to fall to the ground. She now stooped and picked it ~ p. "I must go home," she said briefly. "I am going to the village myself," Mr Holland said. And when Barbara started, he walked along by her side. A silence fell between them and continued for some moments.— Then be saw the book that she was carry ing, and reached out his hand for it. "May I see it?" he asked. She gave him tke volume. "So ! Tennyson, I see," Holland said. "Elaine and the rest of them. Do you like Tennyscn ?" "Yes, sir," Barbara answered. He opened the volume and read half a dozen extracts in a voice that was very clear and rich. When ho had read one or two passages, Barbara looked at him more closely than she had yet done. His was quite a handsome face, with broad white brow, and frank and sparkling gray eyes. Barbara didn't pretend to be a judge of human character, but the face of which she was stealing an occasional glance seem ed the index of a pleasant and honorable nature. "Heigho !" Holland cried when he had read as he wished to, "it's all nonsense, I suppose, this love, love, love!" "Indeed !" said Barbara gravely. „ Then Holland gave her back her book, and asked her about her school. HUNTINGDON, PA., APRIL 3, 1872 Presently she found herself talking to him in quite an animated manner. And almost before she knew it they stood at the gate of the vine covered cottage that was her home. "I am going to call on you," Holland said, as he stood a moment at the gate. "Can I ?" "No," said Barbara hastily. A moment later, she added "Excuse my rudeness, Mr. Holland. We always try to make every person welcome who comes to the cottage." "I will bring the most unexceptional of references, as the papers say," he exclaimed laughingly, as he went away. He did call one evening. not very long after. He brought a volume of poems along for Barbara to read, as he told her ; a magazine also, in which he pointed out a story, and asked her to tell him what she thought of it after she should look over it. He told her he was coming back the next evening to find out what she thought of it. Barl3 . ara read it carefully. IVhen he came the second time he asked her how she liked it. "It is very sweet and pretty," she an• swered. "I am glad to hear you say so," he re turned, "for I wrote it." Barbara wasn't particularly astonished at that, for she had guessed as much. In the course of the evening Mr. Holland asked her if he could not come and take her over to Mrs. Comstock's on the next Saturday afternoon to teach her to play croquet. Barbara hesitated awhile, and finally consented to go. I hope you haven't received the idea that the Clydes were miserably poor, or anything of the kind, for if you have you are mistaken. The cottage was nicely fur nished, and thanks to the few acres around it, brave little Barbara got cn very com fortably with ber affairs. On the Saturday afternoon appointed, Mr. Holland escorted her over to Mrs. Comstock's. She met there a half dozen other young people, and enjoyed herself very well. One person to whom she was introduced did not impress her very fa vorably, or rather the coldness and haught iness of that person seemed the chill her. The person's name was Miss Caroline Dumont. I may as well tell you that Miss Caroline wanted to marry Mr. Holland, and already rather claimed him for her own. Perhaps she was a tittle jealous of Barbara. However, Barbara enjoyed her self very well, and when Mr. Holland escorted her back home was scarcely recog nizable as the sad little girl whom we be held in the school-house a few days before, so merry and witty had she become. And I think it is probable that Mr. Ralph Holland (that's his full name, dear reader,) thought that she was the fairest, and freshest, and sweetest creature that he had ever beheld. Why shall I dwell here? The romance hid come to Barbara Clyde's life at last. During those beautiful autumn days the story that is so old, yet newly told for each one of us, became hers. She learned to love, perhaps unsconciously to herself, yet none the less surely did she learn to love. CHAPTER 111 Again we see Barbara Clyde in her school room. A month has passed, a month of change for her. Two weeks be fore Grandpapa Clyde had folded his hands across his peaceful breast, and his soul had winged its flight away from earth. Not very many haurs afterwards, she who had sojourned with him for nearly three score years closed her eyes, and her spirit took flight in search-or his. Barbara has dis missed her school for half a holiday, and is sitrfing alone with her head bowed on her desk. Aye, doubly alone does the girl feel herself. In all the wide word who is there to care for her ? Then a face floats across har vision, the face of Ralph Holland. And here had been a change for Barbara. She realized that before she had been a child, but now she had become a woman. And she knew her own heart well enough to fully under stand what was in it. I say that across her visio:i floated the face of Ralph Holland. Did she feel her self any the less alone for that? Indeed no. It only made her feel more bitterly so. What could he ever be to her, or she to him ? was the question that she asked herself. He was rich, talented, on the road to fame, and she—why she was only an ordinary little country girl. A hot tear fell on her hand. Then she sprang to her feet, a very picture of pride, dashed the tears from her eyes. Should she weep for a man who no doubt consid ered her merely as a summer acquaintance, to be forgotten in a day ? Then pride dried her eyes, and no sign of weakness was evident about her. A step was coming up the path to the school' house, and shortly a figure appeared in the doorway. It was the figure of Miss'Caroline Dumont. Lat terly that young lady affected a great in terest in Barbara. Barbara welcomed her kindly, and gave her a seat, congratulating herself, howev er, that Miss Dumont had not seen her weeping. Miss — Caroline made herself very agree able for some time. To be brief, she had come to the school house with a definite purpose, that purpose a treacherous one, hid beneath a show of friendship. "Miss Clyde," she said after awhile, "I am very happy. I trust you. Can you guess the cause ?" Barbara looked at her calmly, and said : "I do not know that I can." Miss Dumont held up a finger with a jewelled ring upon it. "This explains," she said, in a way that was quite enchanting. Caroline Dumont could be very pleasant and agreeable when she choose.. Barbara felt a dull weight sinking at her heart. Miss Dumont rose, and stooped over Barbara. "I cannot help telling you, little Pearl," she continued in a manner of assumed shyness. "He loves me and lamto be his wife." "Who is it?" asked Barbara. "It is Mr. Holland," Miss Dumont re turned. The name sank like a dagger into Bar bara's heart, but she was a true woman in that she made no sign of the pain there. And Mis; Dumont wondered if she had not made a mistake after all, in supposing that this girl cared aught for Ralph Hol land. Wondered if she had not played a higher card than was necessary to win the game. She knew that there was a possi bility that it might turn up some time in the future to her discomfort. She knew that, when she was playing it, but consid ered the risk worth the taking. She knew perfectly well that this shy, modest girl would be very hard to approach by a man whom she should suppose was engaged to another. She understood Barbara Clyde well enough to know that it would require extraordinary circumstances to cause her to betray what had been told her. Presently Miss Dumont took her leave. She had come with an object, and having accomplished that she did not care to stay much longer. Barbara sat still for a long time, and then she mechanically rose, and taking her hat started home. She felt so strangely that she wondered if she was going to die. Poor Barbara! the last ray of brightness and hope seemed struck from her life. She scarcely knew afterwards bow she reached home, but reach it she did, and threw her self in the high-backed, old-fashioned rock ing -chair, in which her grandpapa had died so short a time before. She sat thinking over the past, with ever that dull pain gnawing at her heart. She saw now, humiliating as it was to con fess it to herself, that a hope of being loved by Ralph Holland had sprung 'up unbid den in her heart. Not utterly without cause had that been, fur sometimes his manner had shown much; something had some times looked out of his eyes that had fost ered that secret, growing hope. "It was better that matters should be as Miss Dumont had told her they were," she forced herself to say. "Miss Dumont was beautiful, and rich, and—" Right there the girl broke down utterly, and with violent sobs she left her head full into her hands. Oh the world was al together dark and lonely! Where in all the future could she see a prospect of a single ray of brightness ? She had presum ed to love Ralph Holland, only to feel in her heart the desolation of despair. Then her pride cried out to her that she must be a woman, and with that thought she raised her head, tc. beli )1d standing in the doorway—Mr. Ralph Holland himself. "You here ?" she cried, and it seemed to her as if he must be reading her heart —terribly humiliating thought. "Yes," he answered gently, advancing to her side. "Sweet Barbara, why do you weep?". She looked at him in astonishment. Why should he the betrothed of another, address her in that manner? "Because-" and then in spite of her. self there was a fresh burst of sobs. Ralph Holland's action was decided. He gathered both her hands in his, and exclaimed passionately : "Barbara, are you lonely ? Let me drive away your loneliness. Sweet Barbara, lit tle blossom, I love you; let me kiss away your tears. Brave little heroine, I have been watching yon bear your burdens; be my wife and I will be henceforth your strength. Oh, Barbara, hear me say again that I love you with all my heart" "Don't you love Miss Dumont ?" she cried simply. "No, no !" he said "I do not, and nev er have." And Barbara believed him, as she had a right to do. With her hands still prisoned in his, he bent over till he felt her breath on his lips. "Barbara, do you love me ?" he whis pered. He caught the answer murmured scarce ly adovner breath: - "y es! , And eie brightness of happiness was shining over Barbara's life. Miss Dumont had calculated well when she bad supposed that Barbara was a dan gerous rival, that is, dangerous to her hopes, and her unprincipled falsehood was calculated to serve her purpose well, for if Ralph Holland had not discovered Barbara in that time of weakness, he would have had a great deal of trouble in approaching her on love. Barbara has never told him of that conversation in the school-house, and probably never will. She is perfectly content to know that he never was enga ged to Miss Dumont. So you see, don't you, that Miss Dumont made no miscalculation then? I presume that the woman would not hesitate in doing the same thing again, if she should suppose that it would give her an additional chance of winning a man she wanted to marry. Arn't you glad that Barbara's romance is a happy one ? I know yon are saying "YEs." feading by the 3 1 , MO. The Girl Who Wins The time has passed away when woman must be pale and delicate to be called in teresting—when she must be totally igno rant of all practical knowlege to be called refined and high-bred when she must know nothing of the current political news of the day, or be called masculine and strong minded. It is not a sign of high birth or refine ment to be sickly and ignorant. Those who affect anything of the kind are behind the times, and mustshake up and air them selves, mentally and physically, or drop under the firm strides of common sense ideas and be crushed into utter insignifi cance. In these days an active, rosy-faced girl. with brain quick and clear, warm, light heart, a temper quickly heated at intended insult or injury, and just as quick to for give; whose feet can run as fast as her tongue and not put her out of breath; who is not afraid of freckles, or to breathe the pure air of heaven, unrestrained by the drawn curtains of a close carriage ; and, above all, who can speak her mind and give her opinion on important topics which interest intelligent people, is the true girl who will make a good woman. This is the girl who wins in these days. Even fops and dandies, who strongly op pose woman's rights, like a woman who can talk well, even if she is not handsome. They weary of the most beautiful creature, if she is not smart. They say, "Aw 'pears, she is a beauty, and no mistake, but she won't do for me—lack of brains" of which commodity, it would seem, she could have little use in her association with him ; however, to please an empty-headed fop, a woman must know something. Ties "horoskope" for March is tbuscast by Josh Billings : "The man born this month will be inclined tew blow a little. He will be a domestik man, and will know how to rok the kradle and pare potatoze. He will marry the only daughter of a wid do, and will be a good judge of mothers-in law. He will die about. the usual time in life, and leave a house and lot, with a small mortgages on it. He never will run for offiss but once, and then will get beat. The woman who appears this month will be an old maid till she is twenty years old, and then will suddenly put a stop tew this kind of bizzness, by investing in a yung man. Sha will be a good housekeeper, and kno how to make a plum puddin with the plums left out. She will hang on to her buty till she is about forty-five; after that she will have to take her chances." Our Daughters I was greatly impressed last evening by a remark that was made to me by a wealthy gentleman, in response to the question, "How is your daughter ?" "Rather better, but Beisik's blood is thin. If I were to live my life over again I would give all of my children an occupa tion though I were as rich as Crcesus." An occupation, that is what the young ladies of the present day need. There seems so little aim or purpose in life for them. To spend the first ten years of their responsible existence in mental activity, with no corresponding exercise of body and no cultivation of the soul, and to dawdle away the intervening time between this age and their marriage, with trivialities, is the sum and substance of a young woman's being in the present generation. Of course there are exceptions, but my observation takes in the majority of young ladies. There are no household duties, no systematic studies, after school-days are over, no responsibilities to the poor and sick and suffering, and there is no mission ary zeal in spreading the blessings of Christianity far and near. To dress and receive company, and play croquet; these are the occupations of most girls, now-a days. I should desire for daughters, that every faculty should have its perfect de velopment, and every sphere of womanly work its due attention. Mothers ()ugh* to watch over the girls with more care. Just at the period when they need a proper degree of bodily exer cise, the brain is overtaxed by constant devotion to books, and the result is obvi ous in the delicate physique. Or on the other hand, the little child is made to bear too heavy burdens, and the body is over strained in its youth, and weakened and thus injured for life. Happy the judg ment that can steer wisely between these two evils. _ Begin with the little one in the nursery. Teach her to take proper care of her play things, and to make and mend neatly her doll's wardrobe, and to keep it in a beauti ful order. Give, her playful lessons in household economy, and rest assured the baby-play will tell wonderfully and pleas antly in mature years. And above all things give your daughters a true and noble aim in life. Let them feel the deep motive of our being which is to train the spirit for the eternal world of which this is but the beginning, and let them know that every unselfish thought, and word, and deed, is one step nearer this divine training for heaven. Generally there - are ways enough open for a daughter's usefulness, under the home roof. Each child should have her specific duties, and should be made to per form them with exactness. So much of the real delight of home depends upon the female ministrations in the house. The whole circle may be rendered uncomforta ble by the delinquency of a single member, and it is such a joy to feel that father and mother, and sisters and brothers,-owe their happiness to the little things that our hands can do. It makes these .hands mis tical with beauty—so much more than mere machines that obey a motive power. it mere is no field at home for the ac tivities that must find some outlet, fit the daughter for teaching, give her a useful trade, set her up in a fancy store, or mil linery or dressmaking establishment. At all events, do not allow her to grow up in idleness, or with the false idea that life was given only for amusement.—Advocate and Guardian. Stepping in Father's Footsteps One bright winter's morning, after a snow storm, a father took his hat for a walk to attend to some farm affairs requi ring his attention. As he started, his little boy of five summers also snatched his hat, and followed father with mock digni ty, and an assumed business-like air. When they reached the door, the gentleman no ticed that no tracks or pathway had been made in the snow, and he hesitated about letting his boy follow him. But the soft fleecy snow was so tempting, so pearly white, that he concluded to go. He took long and rapid strides through the untrod den snow, when, suddenly remembering his "little boy," he paused, looked back for him and exclaimed : "Well, my son, don't you find it hard work in this deep snow ?" "Oh ! no," said the boy, "I'm coming; for, father,./stLy in all your tracks." True enough, the dear child was plant ing his tiny feet just where the parent's had' trodden. The child's reply startled the father as he reflected that thus would his child keep pace with him, and follow in his tracks through life. lie was not a friend to Jesus, not a man of prayer, and not a Christian! and well might he pause and tremble as be thought of his child, ever striving "to step in all his tracks," onward, onward, through life's mysterious mazes and myths, toward eternity ! The little boy's reply brought that strong, stubborn-hearted man to think, when the preached word of God had made no im pression on him. Finally he repented, and sought and found peace in believing in Christ. We believe he is now making such tracks through life that at some day that son may be proud to say : "Father, I step in all your tracks." Slurs on Women At a recent dinner in New York, at which no ladies were present, a man, in responding to the toast—" Woman," dwelt almost solely on the frailty of the sea— exclaiming that the best of them were lit tle better than the worst—the chief differ ence being in their surroundings. At the conclusion of the speech, a gen tleman rose and said : "I trust the gentle man, in the application of his remarks, refers to his own mother and sisters not ours." The effect of this just and timely rebuke was overwhelming ; and the maligner of woman was covered with shame and con fusion. This incident serves an excellent purpose in prefacing a few words on the subject. Of all the evils prevalent among men, we know of none more blithing in its moral effect than the tendency to speak slightly of the morals of woman. Nor is there anything in which young men are so thoroughly mistaken as is the estimate they form of the integrity of woman—not their own mothers and sisters thank God, but of others whom they forget are some body else's mother and sisters. Let young men remember that their chief happiness in life depends on their faith in women. No wordly wisdom, no misanthropic philosophy, no generalization can cover or weaken this fundamental truth. It stands like the record of God himself—for it is nothing less than this— and should put an everlasting seal upon lips that are wont to speak slightly of wo men. Senator Wilson's Young Days Senator Wilson, of Massachusetts, some weeks ago addressed the people of Great Falls, New Hampshire, where he said : "I was born in poverty. Want sat by my cradle. I know what it is to ask a mother for bread when she had none to give. I left my home at ten years of age, andserv ed an apprenticeship of eleven years, re ceiving a month's schooling each year, and at the end of eleven years of hard work a yoke of oxen and six sheep, which brought me eighty-four dollars. A dollar would cover every penny I spent from the time I was born until I was twenty-one years of age. I know what it is to travel weary wiles and ask my fellow-men to give me leave to toil. I remember that in September, 1333, I walked into your village from my native town and went through your mills seeking employment. If anybody had of fered me eight or nine dollars a month. I should have accepted it gladly. I went down to Salmon Falls, I went to Dover, I went Newmarket, and tried to get work, without success; and I returned home, weary but not discouraged, and I put my pack on my back and walked to the town where I now live, and learned a mechanic's trade. I know the hard lot that toiling men have to endure in this world, and every pulsation of my heart, every convic tion of my judgment, puts me on the side of the toiling men of my country—ay, of all countries. lam glad the workingmen in Europe are discontented and want bet ter wages. I thank God that a man in the United States to-day can earn from three to four dollars, in ten hours' work, easier than he could forty years ago earn a dollar, working from twelve to fifteen hours. The first month I worked after I was twenty one years of age I went into the woods, drove teams, cut mill-logs, wood, rose in the morning before daylight and worked hard until after dark at night, and I re ceived for it the magificent sum of six dol lars ! And when I got the money those dollars looked as large to me as the moon looked to-night." Something About Teeth Why, says Clannber's Journal, do some people's teeth come out more readily than others? The reasons for this are probably many. About the middle of the last cen tury Peter Kahn, a Swede, visited Ameri ca, and wrote sensibly about what he saw. He observed a frequent loss of teeth among settlers from Europe, especially women.— After discussing and rejecting many modes of explanation, he attributed it to hot tea: and other hot beverages : and came to a general conclusion that "hot feeders lose their teeth more readily than cold feeders." Mr. Catlin, who some years ago had an in teresting exhibition of Indian scenery, dresses, weapons, &c., noticed that North American Indians have better teeth than the whites. He accounts for the difference in this strange way—that the reds keep the mouth shut, whereas the whites keep it open. The teeth, he says, require mois ture to keep their surface in good working order; when the mouth is open, the mu cous membrane has a tendency to dry up, the teeth Jose their needed supply of ...is. ture, and thence come discoloration, tooth ache, tic-douloureux, decay, loonseness, and eventually loss of teeth. Mr. Catlin scolds the human race generally for being less sensible than the brutes in this respect, and the white race especially in compari son with the red. We keep our mouths open far too much; the Indian warrior sleeps, hunts, and smiles with his mouth shut, and respires through his nostrils. Among the virtues attributed by him to closed lips, one is excellent—when you are angry, keep your mouth shut. A FEMALE KNIGHT.-4 Young Lady, Disguised as a Man, Joins the Knights of Pythias.—The Meranton Times has an ac count of a great excitement among the Knights of Pythias of that place. A nice looking person, young and genteel, came to that place a few months ago giving the name of Francis Williams. He became acquainted at the boarding house with several members of the Knights of Pythias Lodge, finally expressed his de sire to join. He was proposed, went through the usual routine, was elected, received the Page's degree, made a favorable impression, advanced to the second degree, and was duly prepared for the third or Knight's degree, but in a certain part of the work an accident disclosed to all of the officers and members present that they had been initiating and giving the degrees of the order to a woman ! The members were startled and nonpluss ed, and for a long while silence resigned. No one knew what to do. It was finally agreed that she should be kept under su pervision until the Worthy Grand Chan cellor be heard from. Two 'Culled' Preachers were in the same pulpit together. While one was preach ing he happened to say, "When Abraham built the ark." The one behind him strove to correct his blunder by saying out loud, "Ilbraham warn't thar." But the speaker pushed on heedless of the interruption, and only took occasion shortly to repeat, I say when Abraham built the ark." "And I say." cried out the other, Abraham zcarn't thar." The preacher was to hard to be beaten down in this way, and ad dressing the people, exclaimed with great indignation, "I say Abraham was thar or thar ABOUTS." TO REMOVE WARTS.—Warts are not only very troublesome, but disfigure the hands. Our readers will thank us for calling their attention to the following perfect cure, even the largest, without leaving a scar. It has been tested by the writer : "Take a small piece of raw beef, steep it all night in vinegar, cut as much from it as will cover the wart, and tie it on, or, if the excresence is on the forehead, fasten it on with strips of plaster. It may be removed during the day and put on every night. In one fortnight the wart will die and peel off." The same prescrip tion will cure corns. Too TRUE.-A few friends will go and bury us. Affection will rear a stone and plant a few flowers over our grave; in a brief period the little hillock will be smooth ed down, and the stone will fall, and neither friends or strangers will be concerned to ask which one of the forgotten millions of the earth was buried there. Every vestage that we ever lived upon the earth will have van ished away. All the little memorials of our rememberance—the lock of hair en cased in gold or the portrait that hung in our dwelling, will cease to have the sligh est interest to any living being. WuEN there is love in the heart there are rainbows in the eyes, which cover eve ry black cloud with gorgeous hues.—H. W. Beecher. NO. 14.., Tlt-Bite Taken on the Fly. Stokes' trial has again been postponed. Small-pox appears to be on the increase in New York. A bow should not always be bent—par ticularly an el-bow. There is a village in Hopkins county, Kentucky, called Ty-Whoppity. Asparagus and green peas have made their appearance in the Savannah market. Large numbers of negroes are leaving North Carolina for the Mississippi States. Horse flesh is recommended by Paris physicians as the best food for consump tives. The President has signed the bill grant ing pre-emption rights to settlers in Cali fornia. It is said that American copper cents circulate in Japan at three times their home value. The Agricultural Bureau credits Califor • nia with a fleece of wool weighing 761 pounds. Three thousand dozen eggs were shipped to New York in one week by a firm in Bowling Green. California exempts editors from jury duty, thinking they have trials enough in their business. A mammoth cotton manufacturing mill is to be erected in Richmond, on the site of the old Gallegos mill. John Price, of Bridgeport, Montgomery county, has a cow whose butter produce last year was 372 pounds. A woman's manners indicate her taste, temper and feeling, as well as the society to which she has been accustomed. The Norristown Herald is becoming po lite. It calls "Buffalo Bill," the well known hunter, Buffalo William, fur short. The first shad of the season in our North ern waters was caught in the Susquehanna at Columbia, on the evening of the 2d inst. Two-thirds of all the Presidents, and three-fourths of all the Secretaries of State, have been members of the Episco pal church. Fall River, Massachusetts, is erecting twelve more extensive factories, and there arc over $50,000,000 invested there in manufacturing. Two babes were born in the cars on the Pacific Railroad during the recent snow blockade. They met with a cold reception on their advent. The Boston Jubilee Coliseum is to be 550 feet long by 360 feet wide, and in the centre the roof is to be elevated 140 feet from the floor. A negro in Kentucky has recovered 83,- 700 damages from four men who hung him up several times to make him confess that he burned a barn. A convention of colored men was held in Cleveland, last week, for the purpose of forming an effective organization for the presidential campaign. Man and wife in Russia always own their property separately, and instances of wives suing their husbands for debt areby no means uncommon. An able-bodied North Carolina negro, the other day, swallowed two dozen raw eggs, shells and all, and washed them down with a pint of raw whisky. The Irish Republic advises the Irish Re publicans to stand by Grant as the fairest , and kindest man to all races that ever sat in the Presidential chair. A Chicago thief actually stole the small pox a few nights ago. He took it by car ryidg off a suit of infected clothing, left in an out-house preliminary to burial. The Senate of Pennsylvania is composed of twenty-two lawyers, one tanner, one surveyor, three farmers, one physician, two gentlemen, one piano maker and one pud dler. A liquor dealer in Reading, a member of the Congregational Church, was fined 880 and costs the other day for selling beer on Sunday, and went to jail rather than pay. There is a faithful widow in Litchfield county Conn., who plucks some consolation from the jaws of death by wearing a heavy gold ring, made from the plate of her de ceased husband's false teeth. A man having announced that he want ed to marry a girl "with plenty of snap in her," the La Crosse Leader advises him to "a for the Wisconsin girl who swallowed forty percussion caps the other week." An Illinois farmer, a wool raiser, has kept his annual clip for five years past, and threw it all upon the market at once, the other day. It amounted to over 14,000 pounds, and he got sixty-five cents per pound all round. A committee of ladies has been appoint ed in Lawrence, Kansas, to visit saloons and invite the keepers to attend the revival meetings. One committee, consisting of five ladies, has been holding prayer-meet ings in the saloons. The Baltimore M. E. Conference has re moved the Rev. Mr. Huston, pastor of Trinty church, and appointed Rev. Dr. Young of Tennessee, to fill the vacaney. Dr. Huston's chastity was a little question able for the members of his church. The City Council of Baltimore contains three members whose names are Robb. Steele and Swindle. If the tax-payers of that city can stand the legislation of these gentlemen, outsiders have no reason to find fault. Think of it: Robb, Steele and Swindle The Cleveland saloon keepers secure the photographs of men whose wives do not permit them to drink, and keep galleries of them. When a customer enters, the barkeeper looks through his album, and sees whether or not the customer's face is good. From 1860 to 1870 the population of New England increased 12 per cent; but in the same decade, their paupers, instead of increasing 12 per cent with the increase of inhabitants, decreased 11 per cent, mak ing a change of pauperism to the whole of 23 per cent. Can any portion of the world show a better record ? The largsst iron-casting ever yet at tempted was successfully made at the Els wic Ordnance Works, Newcastle-on-Tyne, under the direction of Sir. Wm. Armstrong and Captain Noble. Itwas an anvil block, weighing 125 tons, to be used with a twenty-ton, double-action forge-hammer, for forging a thirty-fire ton Armstrong gun.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers