The Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1871-1904, July 17, 1872, Image 1

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    VOL. 47
The Huntingdon Journal,
J. R. DURBORROW,
O f fice on the Corner of Fifth and Washington streets.
THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every
Wednesday, by J. R. DURBORROW and J. A. NASH,
under the firm name of T. R. Dumionnow & Co., at
$2,00 per annum, IN ADVANCE, or $2,50 if not paid
for in six months from date of subscription, and
$2 if not paid within the year.
No paper discontinued, unless at the option of
the publishers, until all arrearagcs are paid.
Regular monthly and yearly advertisements will
he inserted at the following rates :
- m l
6m 9m 1y 13m Gm 9m ly
1 Inch 250 400 500 6VD %col 900 18 00 $ XI $ 36
2 " 400 800 10 00 12 00 IA "240036 u 0 50 65
8 " 60010 00 140018 0% " 3400 60 00 65 80
4 " 800 1400,20 00 1 21 00
5 " 950 18 00125 0030 00 , 1 col 36 00 60 00 80 100
Special notices will be inserted at TWELVE AND
A I I ALP CENTS per line, and local and editorial no
tices at FIFTEEN CENTS per line.
All Resolutions of Associations, Communications
of limited or individual interest, and notices of Mar
riages and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will be
charged TEN CENTS per line.
Legal and other notices will be charged to the
party having them inserted.
Advertising Agents must find their commission
outside of these figures.
Ald advertieing accounta are due and collectable
when the advertisement is once inserted.
. .
JOB PRINTI \ G of every kind, in Plain and
Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch.—
Iland-bills. Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, &c., 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
BF. GEHRETT, M. D., ECLEC
•TIO PHYCICIAN AND SURGEON, hay
ing retuned from Clearfield co inty and perma
nently located in Shirleysburg, offers his profes
sional services to the people of that place and sur
rounding country. apr.3-1872.
DR. H. W. BUCHANAN,
DENTIST,
No. 228 Hill Street,
____
HUNTINGDON, PA .
Jnly 3,'72.
DR. F. 0. ALLEMAN can be eon
suited at his office, at all hours, Mapleton,
Pa. [marcht3,72.
CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law,
D•No. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied
by Messrs. Woods & Williamson. [ap12,71.
DR. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his
professional services to the community.
Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door east
of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan.4,ll.
EJ. GR:EENE, Dentist.
• moved to Leister's new buildin,
ITvstingdon.
L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
kJ!
• Brnwn's new building, No. 520, Hill St.,
Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2,'7l.
HGLAZIER, Notary Public, corner
• of Washington and Smith streets, Hun
tingdon, Pa. [jsn.l2'7l.
Tql - C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law
A A • Office, No. —, Hill street, Huntingdon,
Pa. . [ap.l9, ; il.
JFRANKLIN SCHOCK, Attorney
• at-Law. HUNTINGDON, PA.
jane26,l2-6m,
StLVANITS BLAIR, Attorney-at
e-I • Low, Huntingdon, Pa. Office, Hill street,
!tree doors west of Smith. pan.47l.
T R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoth
cir • ecary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun
ingdon, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded.
Pure Liquors for Medicinal purposes. [n0v.23,'70.
ir HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law,
V • No. 319 llill ot., Huntingdon, Pa. (jan.4,11.
T IL DURBORROW, Attorney-at
r-, • 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,'7l
j W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law
• 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.
Tr' ALLEN LOVELL, Attorney-at
. • Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention
given to COLLECTIONS of all kinds; to the settle
ment of Estates, &c. ; and all other Legal Business
prosecuted with fidelity and dispatch.
Air. Office in room lately occupied by R. Milton
Speer, Esq. [jan.4,'7l.
MILES ZENTMYER, Attorney-at-
Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly
to all legal business. Office in Cunningham's new
building. [jan.4,'7l.
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. Ljan.4,'7l.
Tel A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law,
• Office, 321 Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa.
[mity3l,'7l.
JORN SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. Y. BALLET
SCOTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At
torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Pensions,
and all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against
the Government will be promptly prosecuted.
Office on Hill street. Dan. 4,71.
IT W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun
-A- • tinzdon, Pa. Office with J. Sewell Stewart,
Esq. Lian.4,"7l.
WILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney
at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention
given to collections, and all other lsgal business
attended to with care and promptness. Office, No.
229, Hill street. [apl9,'7l.
Hotels.
MORRISON HOUSE,
OPPOSITE PENNSYLVANIA R. R. DEPOT
HUNTINGDON, PA
J. If. CLOVER, Prop,
April 5, 1871-Iy.
WASHINGTON HOTEL,
S. S. BOWDON, Prop'r.
Corner of Pitt ic Juliana Sts.,Bedford, Pa. mayl.
EXCHANGE HOTEL, Huntingdon,
Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor.
January 4, 1871.
Miscellaneous,
COLYER & GRAHAM, PAINTERS,
~..
Shop No. 750, Hill Street, . ,
(2d4100r - from S. E. Henry & 60'5.,)
Huntingdon, Pa.,
will do all kind of painting cheaper than any
firm in town. Give them a call before applying
elsewhere. l may6m.
ISAAC TAYLOR & CO., MANUFAC
TIMERS OF Hemlock, Pine, and Oak Bill Tim
ber and Shingles, Osceola, Clearfield county, Pa.
They make a specialty of furnishing to order all
kinds of
HEMLOCK AND BILL TIMBER.
Orders taken and any information given by M.
M. LOGAN, at his office, over the Union Bank,
Huntingdon, Pa.
Jan. 24,18 72-6 mo.
A. BECK, Fashionable Barber
R• and Hairdresser, Hill street, opposite the
Franklin House. All kinds of Tonics and Pomades
kept on hand and for sale. [apl9,'7l-51a
- 7-:
he I t untingdon
Journal.
TO ADVERTISERS
J. A. NASH,
:o:-
THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
PUBLISHED
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING
J. It. DURBORROW & J. A. NASH
Office corner n 1 Washington and Bath Sta.,
HUNTINGDON, PA.
THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM
CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA
CIRCULATION 1700.
:43.:
Office re
ig, Rill street
[jan.4,ll.
HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE
MENTS INSERTED ON REA-
SONABLE TERMS.
A FIRST CLASS NEWSPAPEIt
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION
$2.00 per annum in advance. $2 50
within six months. $3.00 if not
paid within the year.
_ :o: ____
JOB PRINTING
ALL KINDS OF JOB WORK DONE
NEATNESS AND DISPATCH,
AND IN TILE
LATEST AND MOST IMPROVED
STYLE,
SUCH AS
POSTERS OF ANY SIZE,
CIRCULARS,
WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS,
BALL TICKETS,
PROGRAMMES,
CONCERT TICKETS,
ORDER BOOKS,
SEGAR LABELS,
RECEIPTS,
yIIOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS,
BILL HEADS,
LETTER HEADS,
PAPER BOOKS,
ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC.,
Our facilities for doing all kinds of Job
Printing superior to any other establish
ment in the county. Orders by mail
promptly filled. All letters should be ad
dressed,
J. R. DURBORROW & CO
FIRST SESSION OF THE FORTY-SECOND
AN ACT to provide that minors shall not be en
listed in the military service of the United States
without the consent of parents or guardians.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Rep
resentatives of the United States of America is Con
gress assembled, That no person under the age of
twenty-one years shall be enlisted or mustered in
to the military service of the United States with
out the written consent of his parents orguardians :
Provided, That such minor shall have such pa
rents or guardians entitled to his custody and con
trol.
SEC. 2. That in ease any officer knowingly vio
lates the provisions of this net by the enlistment
or muster of a minor, he shall be liable to be ar
rested and tried by a court-martial, and, upon con
viction, shall be dismissed from the service, or suf
fer such other punishment as such court may di
rect.
Approved, May 15. 1872.
[GE.n.u. NATunc—No. 68.]
AN ACT to regulate the salary of the consul at
Tien Tsin, China.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Repre
sentatives of the United States of America in Con
gress assembled, That the salary of the United
States consul at Tien Tale. China, shall, from and
after the passage of this act, be thirty-five hundred
dollars ; and the laws regulating the duties of sal
aried consuls shall govern said consul.
Approved, May 17, 1872.
[GENERAL NATURE—No. 69.]
AN ACT to authorize the construction of certain
bridges across the Mississippi river, and to es.
tablfsh the same as post-visas.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Repre
sentatives of the United States of America in Con
dress assembled, That it shall be lawful for the
Western Illinois Bridge Company, a corporation
existing under the laws of the State of Missouri. to
build a bridge across the Mississippi river at the
city of Quincy, Illinois, for the purpose of crossing
persons and property, such as arc usually crossed
on wagon bridges ; and also to lay on and over
said bridge railway-tracks for the more perfect
connection of any railroads that are or shall be
constructed to the said river at or opposite said
point, and that, when constructed, all persons and
property as aforesaid, and also all trains of all
roads terminating at said river, at or opposite said
point, shall be allowed to cross said bridge for
reasonable compensation, to be made to the own
ers of said bridge, under the limitations and condi
tions hereinafter provided ; and in ease of any li
tigation or alleged obstruction to the free naviga
tion of said river, the cause may be tried before
the district court of the United States of any
State in which any portion of said obstruction or
bridge touches ' • and that all railway companies
desiring to use the said bridges shall have and be
entitled to equal rights and privileges in the pass
age of the same, and in the use of the machinery
and fixtures thereof, and of all the approaches
thereto, under and upon such terms and conditions
as shall be prescribed by the Secretary of War,
upon hearing the allegations and proofs of the par
ties, in case they shall not agree.
SEc. 2. That said bridge may, at the option of
the company building the same, be built either as
a pivot draw-bridge, or with unbroken or continu
ous spans : Provided, That if the said bridge shall
bo made with unbroken or continuous spans, it
shall not be of less elevation, in any case, than fif
ty feet above high-water mark, as understood at
the point of location, to the bottom chord of the
bridge ; nor shall the spans of said bridge be less
than two hundred and fifty feet in length, and the
piers of said bridge shall be parallel with the cur
rent of the river, and the main span shall be over
the main channel of the river, and nor less than
three hundred feet in length : And provided also,
That if said bridge shall be constructed as a pivot
draw-bridge, the same shall be constructed with a
draw over the main channel of the river at nn AC
cessible and navigable point, and with spans of
not less than one hundred and sixty feet in length,
in the clear, on each side of the central or pivot
piers of the draw ; and the neat adjoining spans
to the draw shall not be less than two hundred and
fifty feet, if the proper location of the draw over
the channel will admit spans of this width between
it and the shore, and said spans shall not be less
than thirty feet above low-water mark, and not
than ten feet above extreme high-water mark,
measuring to the bottom chord of the bridge, and
the piers of said bridge shall be parallel with the
current of the river And provided oleo, That
said draw shall be opened promptly, upon reasona
ble signal, for the passage of the boats whose con
struction shall not be such as to admit of their
passage ender the permanent spans of said bridge,
except when trains aro passing over the same; but
in no case shall unnecessary delay occurin opening
the said draw during or after the passage of trains.
Sec. 3. That any bridge constructed under this
act, and according to its limitations, shall be a law
ful structure, and shall be recognized and knownas
a post-route, upon which, also, no higher charge
shall be made for the transmission over the same
of the mails, the troops, and munitions of war of
the United States, than the rate per mile paid for
their transportation over the railroads or public
highways leadingtosaidbridge,and the United States
shall have the right of way for postal telegraph
purposes across said bridge.
SEC. 4. That said company may execute a mort
gage upon said bridge, and issue bonds, payable,
principal and interest, in gold or United States
currency.
SEC. 5. That the right to alter or amend this act
so as to prevent or remove all material obstructions
to the navigation of said river by the construction
of said bridge, is hereby expressly reserved ; and
the said bridge shall be built under and subject to
such regulations for the security of the navigation
of =aid river as the Secretary of War shall prescribe;
and the said bridge shall be, at all times, so kept
and managed as to offer reasonable and proper
means for the passage of vessels.
SEC. 6. That the plan and specifications, with
the necessary drawing of said bridge, shall be sub
mitted to the Secretary of War, for his approval,
and until, he approve the plan and location of said
bridge it shall not be built or commenced : and
should any change be made in the plan of said
bridge during the progress of the work thereon,
such change shall be subject to the approval of the
Secretary of War; and all changes in the construc
tion or any alteration of said bridge, that may be
directed at any time by Congress, shall be made
at the cost and expense of the owners thereof.
SEC 7. That the Warsaw and Alexandria Bridge
Company, their successors and assigns, a corpora
tion existing under and by virtue of the laws of
the State of Missouri, be, and his hereby, authoriz
ed to construct and maintain a bridge over the
Mississippi river at and between the city of War
saw, in Hancock county, and State of Illinois, and
the city of Alexandria, in Clark county, and State
of Missouri ; and the bridge authorized to be built
by this section is hereby declared to be a post
route, and shall have all the privileges and be sub
ject to all the terms, restrictions, and requirements
contained in the foregoing sections of this act :
Provided, That the construction of the bridge
mentioned in this section shall be commenced with
in eighteen months from the passage of this act.
Approved, May 17, 1562.
[GENRRAL NATURE.—No. 58.]
AN ACT to change the time for holding the circuit
. .
WITH
BUSINESS CARDS,
and district courts of the United StZtes for the
western district of Wisconsin, at La Crosse.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Repre
sentatives of the United States of America in Con
gress assembled, That the time of holding the cir
cuit and districts courts of the United States for
the western district of Wisconsin, at La Crosse, be
on the third Tuesday of September of each year,
instead of the first Monday of December, as now
provided by law ; and that the December term at
La Crosse be, and tho same is hereby, abolished,
and that all recognizances, indictments, writs, pro
cess, and other proceedings, civil and criminal,
pending in either of said courts, may be entered,
heard, and tried at the time herein fixed for hold
ing said courts : Provided homerer, That a term of
said court may be held in December, eighteen hund
red and seventy-two, for the purpose of taking for
feitures of recognizances and disposing of any and
all matters pending in said court, civil or criminal
necessary to be disposed of at said term to prevent
discontinuance, or any loss of any rights that may
have accrued to any party or to the government of
the United States.
LEGAL BLANKS,
PAMPHLETS,
Szc. 2. This act shall not interfere with the term
of said courts appointed to be holden at Madison,
in said distriot, nor with the power now possessed
by the judges of said courts to order special terms
of the same, as now provided by law.
Approved, May 9, 1872.
[Gamma'. NATURE.—No. 59.]
AN ACT to extend the time of payment for their
lands by persons holding pre-emptions on the
public lands in the States of Minnesota, Wiscon
sin, and Michigan, and Territory of Dakota.
Ile it enacted by the Senate and House of Repre
sentatives of the United States of Atneriea is (lots
green assembled, That all persons holding preemp
tions upon any of the public lands of the United
States within the States of Minnesota, Wisconsin,
and Michigan, and Territory of Dakota, whose fi
nal payment has not been made, shall bo allowed
the additional time of one year in whioh to make
final proof and payment from the time at which
such pre-emptions are required to be paid for by
the present laws.
Approved. May 9, 1872.
United States Laws,
[OFFICIAL.]
LAWS
OF THE
UNITED STATES
PASSED AT THE
CONGRESS.
[GENERAL NATURE—No. 67 .]
HUNTINGDON, PA., JITLY 17, 1872.
ht, voeot Noway.
Rain Upon the Roof.
When the humid shadows hover
Over all the starry spheres,
And the melancholy darkness
Gently weeps in rainy tears,
'Tie a joy to press the pillow
Of a cottage chamber bed,
And to listen to the patter
Of the soft rain overhead.
Every tinkle on the shingles
Has an echo in the heart ;
And a thousand dreamy fannies
Into busy being start.
And a thoasand recollections
Weave their bright rays into woof,
As I listen to the patter
Of the rain upon the roof.
Now in fancy comes my mother
As she used to, years agone,
To survey her darling dreamers,
Ere she left them till the dawn.
Oh, I sue her bending o'er me
As I list to this refrain
Which is played upon the shingles
By the patter of the rain.
Then my little seraph sister,
With her wings and waving hair
And her bright-eyed cherub brother—
A serene, angelic pair—
Glide around my wakeful pillow
With their praise or mild reproof.
As I listen to the murmur
Of the soft rain on the roof.
And another comes to thrill Die
With her eyes, delicious blue,
And forget I, gazing on her,
That her biLirt was all untrue
I remember but to love
With a rapture akin to pain,
And my heart's quick pulses vibrate
To the patter of the rain.
There is naught in Art's bravuras
That can work with such a spell
In the spirit's pure, deep fountains,
Whence the holy passions well,
As that melody of nature,
That subdued, subduing strain
Which is played upon the shingles
By the patter on the rain.
How Softly on the Bruised Heart.
How softly on the bruised heart
A word of kindness falls,
And to the dry and parched soul
The moistening tear-drop calls;
Oh, if they knew who walked the earth
'Mid sorrow, grief and pain,
The power a word of kindness bath,
'There paradise again.
The weakest and the poorest may
The simple pittance give,
And bid delight to withered hearts,
Return arZin and live :
Oh, what is life if love be lost
If man's unkind to man,
Oh, what the heaven that waits beyond,
This brief and mortal span ?
As stars upon the tranquil sea
In mimic glory shine,
So words of kindness in the heart
Reflect the source divine;
Oh, then be kind whoe'er thou art,
That breathest mortal breath,
And it shall brighten all thy life,
And sweeten even death.
morE-Vtiller.
Walter GOllOll'S MOHR
RY LIORATIO ALGER, JR
STEP by step, Walter C./onion had sunk
from a position of respectability to that of
a confirmed inebriate. When he commen
ced visiting the tavern at which liquor was
dealt out, he did so with a feeling of shame,
which led him to go at a time when he
was likely to meet few persons.
But as the habit grew upon him, he be
came much more reckless of public opin
ion. Gradually his income from his busi
ness—he was a carpenter—diminished;
people being afraid to trust him with com
missions, for they would probably have to
wait a longer time than was convenient.
Walter was a married man. At the age
of twenty-five he had united himself to an
estimable girl, who, though she brought
him little in the way of worldly goods,
proved an excellent wife.
They had been married ten years, atd
had one child, a boy of six, the sole fruit
of the union. Charley Gordon was a bright
rosy-cheeked boy, with merry ways that
might have gladdened any father's heart.
Of course their wordly circumstances
had been sensibly affected by Mr. Gordon's
course. Dollar by dollar, the hoard in the
savings bank had dwindled away. Next
commenced the diminution of their domes
tic comforts. It cost Mrs. Gordon a long
fit of weeping, when one day the landlord
of the village tavern ; a rough man, with
neither principle nor refinement, drove up
to the door, and on her opening it, an
nounced that he would take the sofa.
"The sofa !" exclaimed Mrs. Gordon in
amazement.
"Certainly 1 Hasn't your husband told
you about it ?"
"What should he tell me ?" inquired the
wife, not suspecting the truth.
"Ne's sold it to me," said the landlord,
looking shame-faced, in spite of his brazen
effrontery.
"And without saying a word to me about
it ?"
"That's his affair, not mine."
"What induced him to sell it 7 How
much do you give him for it ?"
"He was owing me a debt—a matter of
fifteen or twenty dollars," muttered the
landlord.
"And this debt was for rum, I suppose,"
said Mrs. Gordon, bending her eyes search
ingly upon the landlord, like an accusing
spirit.
- "Well, and suppose it was. I suppose
it's a debt for all that."
"You can take the sofa," said Mrs. Gor
don ; "it is in that room. But I warn you,
John Glover, that the riches which you
are fast accumulating will bring you no
happiness. Ruining the souls and bodies
of your fellow-men is a great price to pay
for wealth."
"When I want to hear preaching I can
go to church," muttered the landlord, a
little uneasy in his conscience at the words
of his victim's wife, callous as he had be
come.
A month afterwards the Gordons moved
from the comfortable house which he bad
hitherto occupied, to a miserable old build
ing which had not been tenanted for a
long time, and ought to have been pulled
down. But it had fallen into the hands
of John Glover, the tavern keeper before
referred to, and he had persuaded his vic
tim to hire it.
Sad days succeeded the removal. First,
the physical discomfort of living in such a
miserable shell was not small. It afforded
scanty protection, and the discomfort was
increased by the deficiency of suitable fur
niture. All that was good had gone the
same as the sofa. Not a carpet was left,
and but a single stove. So they were
obliged to live, during the cold season, in
one room. Walter Gordon, however, was
seldom at home. It had long since lost
all its attractions for him, and he was gen
erally to be found in the bar-room, where
the landlord was gracious, and his drunk
en hilarity and jests were applauded by
the company. It was not quite time for
the landlord to brekk with him. That he
would defer until his victim was complete
ly ruined, and there was no prospect of his
squeezing any more money out of him.
One night Walter Gordon had remained
in the bar-room longer than usual. He
remained until all his companions had
slipped off one by one, and he was left
alone. He, too, would have gone, had he
not fallen into a drunken stupor, which
left him half insensible to what was going
on. Half insensible, I say, for events
proved that he was not wholly so.
At this time a stranger entered the room
and wished to speak with the landlord
apart.
"I have no fire elsewhere," said the
landlord. "You can speak freely here."
"But—" expostulated the stranger,
pointing over his shoulder at Walter Gor
don, who was reclining on the settee.
"Oh, that will make no difference.—
He's a poor drunken fellow, and is far
enough over the bay not to comprehend
anything that is going on."
"Faugh !" said the other, "I should not
think you would harbor such miserable
fellows as he."
"I shan't, much longer. I've most
cleaned him out, and when I have, shall
order him off."
With this they proceeded to business
which was of a character not to require
our further attention.
The landlord supposed Walter Gordon
was too far gone to hear what was said.—
Perhaps it would not have troubled him
much if he had known that this was a
mistake.
Walter Gordon did hear the last words
that were spoken, being, as has been said,
only half unconscious. He had still man
hood enough left to feel the full measure
of his degradation. Now it was presented
to him in a way that was humiliating
enough.
"So I'm a poor drunken fellow!" thought
he to himself. "That's what the landlord
says, and he ought to know, for lie made
me what 1 am! and yet, no, I cannot say
that, for if I had not given my consent,
his efforts would have been powerless."
These thoughts ran through Walter's
mind. Meanwhile the conversation went
on, and we heard Glover express a deter
mination to have done with him, after he
had cleaned him ont.
This declaration filled him with secret
indignation, and yet it was only what he
might have known before. But the land
lord's manner had been so smooth and po
lite, that he never suspected the opinion
which he had entertained of him.
His first impulse was to leave the room,
but something restrained him. Without
appearing, therefore, to have heard what
had been said, he continued to lie quiet for
a few moments, then yawning naturally,
he staggered slowly to his feet.
"Going . ?" inquired the landlord, in his
usual smooth tone and with his hypocriti
cal smile.
"Yes, it is getting late," said Walter.
"You won't take another glass, for a
night-cap, you know ?"
"No, I won't take anything more to
night," and Walter slowly walked out of
broom. aia.uut hear the landlord's
sneer.
The first time I ever knew Gordon to
decline drinking. He must have taken
an overdose to-night.
Out in the fresh air a new spirit seem
ed to possess Walter Gordon. Reflection
had completely sobered him. He looked
back at the building from which he had
just emerged, and exclaimed in a low, but
resolute voice:
"I will never drink another drop of li
quor in that room, nor in any other place,
so help me God !"
It did him good to make that resolu
tion. He felt instantly, he knew not how,
a conviction that God would help him;
and in spite of his ragged clothes, his des
titute family and miserable prospects, he
was cheered by a hope of better things.
_ _
His wife was waiting for him, not — with
reproaches, for these she felt would only
make matters worse; but with an air of
depression which pained him to. witness.
He wanted to tell her of his new resolu
tion, but decided not to do so, till he could
give her some decisive proof that it would
be carried out in practice. She for her
part, did not perceive much difference in
his demeanor from that which she usually
observed.
The next morning early, Walter Gordon
awoke, and left the house, for the tavern,
as his wife supposed.
She was mistaken. Ho bent his steps
to the house of Deacon Holmes.
The Deacon was considerably surprised
to see him at that early hour.
"Deacon Holmes," said Gordon, "I have
heard that yon intend building a barn.
"Yes," the deacon replied, "I think of
doing so."
"Have you engaged any one to build
it ?"
"No," said the deacon, hesitatingly.
He anticipated what was coming next, and
it embarrassed him.
"I am in want of work, and will do it
as cheap as any one."
The deacon looked down. He was evi
dently trying to frame a refusal.
"Yes, I am aware that you are a good
workman ; but—"
"But my intemperance is an objection
—the only one I have—but as you will
admit, I think, a weighty one ?"
"It is, I freely acknowledge it. But,
Deacon Holmes, I made a resolution last
night, never to touch intoxicating liquors
from henceforth." _ _
"And do you think you shall have
strength to abide by that resolution ?" said
the deacon, eagerly. "Are you willing to
sign the temperance pledge ?"
"I am not desirous of doing so," said
Gordon. _ _ _
"What, may I ask led you to form this
resolution ?"
In answer to this question, Walter Gor
don detailed to the deacon the particulars
with which the reader is already familiar.
"And now, do you think," he said in
conclusion, "that you are willing to trust
me with this job ?"
"I will trust you," he said, heartily ex
tending his hand to Walter. "God forbid
that I should discourage you in your res
olution by a refusal. Perhaps, however,
it will be better for me to employ you by
the day, trusting to you to make the job a
short one, since you might find it difficult
to get trusted for the timber, if you at
tempted to procure it on your own respon
sibility."
Thank you, Deacon, for your consider
ation. I have, lam aware, destroyed my
credit. I shall be glad to take it on your
terms. When shall I begin ?"
"I will order the timber to-day, so that
it may be on the ground to-morrow. Mean
while, I have little jobs around the house
sufficient to occupy you to-day."
That evening Walter Gordon came home
at six o'clock, somewhat to his wife's sur
prise.
How much greater was her surprise when
he took from his vest pocket a two dollar
bill, saying kindly :
"Clara, yon must need some money for
household expenses."
"Oh, Walter," she said, with a tremu
lous hope at this unwanted action, "can it
be that you-"
"Thai I have reformed ? With God's
help, I think I have. Clara I shall try to
make you a better husband in the future."
There was joy in the humble home of
Walter Gordon that night—the joy of a
wife who had found her husband, and of a
man who had found himself.
When John Glover heard of Walter
Gordon's reformation, he laughed incred
ulously, and said : "I shall have him again
before the week is out."
He was not mistaken. Walter did call
on him before the week was out; but his
errand was to say that he was about to
vacate his present house and move into a
better one, owned by Deacon Holmes.
Three years passed by. At the end of
that time Walter Gordon was well, happy
and prosperous, while the landlord had
himself sunk into a drunkard's grave,
which he had prepared for so many others.
toT on.
The Boy that was not Remarkable.
Most boys who "get into the newspapers"
are very remarkable boys.
Joe had nothing about his looks, or ac
tions, or color that attracted the particu
lar attention of anybody.
When he first breathed the vital air, he
was simply a boy baby, with two hands,
two feet, two eyes, two ears, one mouth
and one nose. He did not laugh and
crow, and sit upright, as young geniuses
do in their babyhood, but he slept, and
waked, and ate, (baby food, of course), and
cried like any common baby.
When he grew older there were no un
common development, except that he was
fat and healthy and heavy.
Nobody congratulated the mother on
raising a future President, nor applauded
the bright genius that sparkled in the
baby's eyes. The gossippers looked won
derfully at each other as the tender moth
er watched over her baby boy, provided
for his, comforts, and pressed him to her
warm bosom.
He grew to boyhood, but he was only a
common boy. He learned his AB C with
difficulty, and was slow in learning to
read. His teacher thought he never would
get through the multiplication table."
But he never forgot it.
When the boys went a fishing Joe went
too, but he was slow in getting his hook
and line ready. The other boys were on
and in and around the lake before his hook
was fairly settled in the water. "Too slow
to move," the boys would say. "He'll sit
there expecting the fish to come to him."
It was even so; he remained stationary
and fixed; but when night came somehow
his basket was always full, while many of
the bright talking geniuses went home
with the sad intelligence that the fish
"wouldn't bite."
When he grew to be a man, the bustling
drive-aheads laughed at his plodding; but
by some means he seldom made a mistake,
and though he did not seem to accomplish
as much in a week as many others did in
a day, yet at the end of the year there
was always something tangible in his re
sults, while the work of those who seemed
to utterly outstrip him at first ended in de
molished air castles.
He has passed the meridian of life. Men
eminent in the profession respect his judg
ment. Business men coming upon the
stage of action long to learn the secret of
his success. The bank leans upon him to
carry it through the trying crisis; mer
chants and manufacturers lean upon him
to save them from bankruptcy. Steady,
constant and hard study made him a
scholar; perservering industry, accompa
nied with economy, raised him to opulence;
close observation and deliberate reflection
cultivated a sound judgment, and honesty
and integrity secured for him the confi
dence of all who knew him.
Courting in Siberia.
When once the youthful beau among
the korakas becomes infatuated, he makes
known his passion to the father of his 'af
finity' and expresses his desire to strive
for her hand. A kind of contract is im
mediately entered into, by which the
young man binds himself to the father as
a Fervant for a term of years, at the expi
ration of which time he can have the
pleasure of learning whether the daughter
will have him or not. In this manner, if
the father be the possessor of a beautiful
daughter, he may have a dozen men ready
to do his bidding at one time. When the
term of servitude expires, one of the larger
youths is selected, and all the old women
of the place, armed with sticks and pieces
of seal thongs, are stationed in the pologs
suspended around the room. The daugh
ter then appears, thickly clad in skin gar
ments, followed by her lover, when a race
ensues around the enclosure, the contest
ants dodging about among the pologs. To
win his bride he must overtake her and
leave the print of his nail on her person,
before she can be rescued by the old wo
men, who, during the race, impede the
lover as much as possible by beating him
with sticks, and tripping him by seizing
his legs as he rushes by them. The ad
vantage is all with the girl, and if she does
not wish to become the wife of the pursuer,
she can avoid him without difficulty. On
the other hand if she likes him, she mana
ges to stumble, or make her wishes known
to the old women, who then only make a
show of impeding her pursuer. Sometimes
the lover is so smitten that just after being
foiled he. returns to the father and binds
himself for another period of years for the
privilege of making another trial.
Immortality.
The following beautiful gem is from the
pen of the late Geo. D. Prentice : "Why
is it that the rain and the cloud come over
us with a beauty that is not of earth, and
then pass away and leave us to moan on
their faded loveliness ? Why is it that
tha stars which hold their nightly festival
around the midnight throne, areplaced be
yond the reach of our limited faculties,
forever mocking us with their unapproach
able glory ? And why is it that bright
forms of human beauty are presented to
our view, and then taken from us, leaving
the thousand streams of affection to flow
back Alpine torrents upon our hearts ?
We are born to a higher destiny than that
of earth. There is a realm when the
rain-bow never fades—where the stars will
be set out before us like islands that slum
ber on the ocean, and where the beautiful
being that passes before us like a meteor,
will stay in our presence forever."
A Secret for Women
Many women who, before marriage,
made it their study to please the eyes of
the men they wished to marry, lose their
affection after marriage by carelessness in
dress. Men aro fastidious in this matter.
Even those who are careless in regard to
their own appearance take delight in see
ing their wives neat in their attire. They
miss those coquettish garments, the neatly
dressed hair, and all the thousand tasty
and fanciful little articles with which
young women adorn themselves, more
than they would be willing to allow. The
neatness and order which charmed them
too often give place to a slovenly morning
gown, frowsy hair, slipshod and unlaced
shoes, and the like. Men reason that
they should have the same desire to please
the men they have chosen after marriage
as well as before it. The last new song
loses its charm coming from the lips at a
slattern. The poetry goes out of life at a
glance, and the household loses its bright
ness. The wife who on account of house
hold cares neglects her personal appearance
commits a grave mistake, which too often
bears bitter fruit, and they see their hus
bands leave their society for that of others
without really knowing the cause, and
most men are too proud to tell them.
Let women always give the same care to
their dress after marriage which they gave
it before, and not rush from the room to
"dress up" only when there is prospect of
"company." Let them consider that that
which gives them a charm in the eyes of
their friends has a like effect upon a hus
band, and they will see that he will not
have so many pressing business calls "in the
city" in the evening, but will have the
same delight in their society as in their
days of courtship.
Country Newspapers
Few people appreciate the value of the
village papers which gather up the news
of a county and advocate the interests of a
locality. And few understand theamonnt
of ability required to edit such a paper,
where one man must be editor, publisher,
printer, book-keeper, and all. Imagine
how much the intelligence of the country
would suffer by the blotting out of the
country papers, which treat the immediate
interests of the people and thus come into
immediate contact with their minds !
The true country editor understands
that his paper thrives by being intensely
local ; that it is not by learned editorials
on tariff and income tax, but by articles
in favor of the new railroad, by descrip
tions of the new factory, by advocacy of
the new bridge, that he must succeed.
People look in his columns not only for
the latest general news, but for a mention
of every interesting fact, of every curious
matter of gossip in his own county. And
thus the paper becomes the reflector of the
current events and the public sentiment
of his section. Nothing is too small to be
itemized if only it is of interest. A coun
try editor advertised the other day that
he would insert a list of the names of all
the people who bad joined the churches
in the county in a recent revival. Which
showed that he understood his business.
He proposed to chronicle every event of
interest occurring in his jurisdiction.
Every intelligent family should give a
cordial support to the local newspaper. It
is one of the great educational influences.
—Hearth and Home.
A Perpetual Weather Table,
J. Cool Mexico, Miama county, Indi
ana, sends the following table which, he
says, was constructed by the celebrated Dr.
Herschel], upon a philosophic considera
tion of the attraction of the sun and moon.
It is confirmed by the experience of many
years observation, and will suggest to the
observer what kind of weather will proba
bly follow the moon's entrance into any of
her quarters. As a general rule it will be
found to be wonderfully correct :
If the moon changes at 12 o'clock, noon,
the weather immediately afterwards will
be very rainy, if in summer, and there
will be snow and rain in winter.
Between 4 and 6 o'clock, fair both in
winter and summer.
Between 6 and 10 o'clock p. m., in sum
mer fair, if the wind is northwest; rainy,
if south or southwest. In winter fair and
frosty, if the wind is north or northwest ;
rainy, if south or southwest.
Between 10 and 12 o'clock p. m., rainy
in summer and fair and frosty in winter.
Between 12 at night and 2 o'clock a.
m., fair in summer and frosty in winter—
unless the wind is from the south and
southwest.
Between 4 and 6 o'clock a. m., rainy
both in winter and summer.
Between 6 and 8 o'clock a. m., wind
and rain in summer, and stormy in winter.
Between 8 and 10 o'clock a. m., showery
in summer, and cold and blustery in win
ter.
An Editor.
The realm of the Press is enchanted
ground, wrote Bayard Taylor. At times
an editor' has • the happiness of knowing
that he has defended the right, exposed
the wrong, protected the weak ; that he
has given utterance to a sentiment that
has made somebody happier, kindled a
smile upon a sad face, or hope in a weary
heart. He may meet with that sentiment
many years after it may have lost all charm
of paternity, but he feels affection for it.—
He welcomes it as a long absent child. He
reads it as if for the first time, and wonders
if, indeed, be wrote it, for he has changed
since then. Perhaps ho could not give
utterance to the sentiment now—perhaps
he would not if he could. It seems like
the voice of the former self calling to its
parent, and there is something mournful
in its tone. He begins to think. He re
members why he wrote, where were his
readers then, and whither they have tone;
what be was then, and how much he has
changed. So be muses, until he finds
himself wondering if that thought of his
will continue to float after he is dead, and
whether he shall really look on something
that will survive him. And then comes
the sweet consciousness that there is noth
ing in the sentence that he could wish un
written—that it is a better part of him—
a shred for a garment of immortality he
shall leave behind him, when he joins the
"innumerable caravan," and takes his
place in the silent halls of death.
ADVICE TO BOYS.—"Yon are made to
be kind, generous and magnanimous,"
said Horace Mann. If there is a boy in
school who has a club foot, don't let him
know you ever saw it. If there is a boy
with ragged clothes, don't talk about rags
in his hearing. If there is a 'lame boy,
assign him some part in the play which
does not require much running. If there
be a dull one, help him to learn his lesson.
NO. 28.
Sewing Machine Sales for 1871.
There is a circumstance connected with
the late disastrous fire in Chicago, which
deserves special mention, as expressive of
the comparative estimation in which the
various sewing machines now in use in this
country are held by the Western people.
It is stated in the Report of the Special
Relief Committee of that city, as published
in the Chicago Tribune of March 9, of the
present year, that the whole number of sew
ing machines for which orders have been
issued to the date of the report is 2,944
on which the committee have paid the sum
of $71,530.89. Of these the Singer Man
ufacturing Company supplied 2,427 ;
Wheeler & Wilson 235; H0we, , 127 ;
Grover & Baker, 44 ; Wilcox & Gibbs, 30 ;
Florence, 18 ; Finkle & Lyon, 20 ; Blees,
17 ; lEtna, 11; Wilson, 5; Western Em
pire, 2 ; Manhattan, 2 ; Davis, 2 ; Ellip
tic, 1 ; Gold Medal, 1 ; and American
Button Hole, 2.
This report indicates how well the Sin. ,
er Sewing Machine maintains its early and
well-earned popularity. It may be regard
ed as one of the pioneers in the Sewing
Machine manufacture, which is one of the
most remarkable events in the progress of
mechanical invention, and one of the most
striking features of modern productive
industry. Additional evidence, however,
is given of the popularity of the Singer
"New Family" sewing machine, by the
annual returns made by the various Com
panies, and sworn to by them in obtaining
licenses in 1871, from the owners of the
sewing machine patents. Those returns
show that the Singer Manufacturing Com
pany sold, during the year , 181,260 ma
chines; the Wheeler & Wilson C0.,128,526;
Grover & Baker S. M. Co., 50.838; Weed
S. M. Co., $9,655 • Howe Machine Co.,
(January Ist to July Ist,) 34,010 ; Wil
cox & Gibbs, 30,127 ; Wilson S. M. Co.,
21,153 ; American B. H. 0. & S. M. Co.,
20,121; Original Howe S. M. Co., 20,051;
Florence S. M. Co., 15,947 ; Gold Medal
S. M. Co., 13,562 ; Davis S. M. Co., 11,-
568 ; Domestic S. M. Co., 10,397; Finkle,
Lyon & Co., 7,639 1 /Etna S. M. Co., 4,-
720 ; Blees S. M. Co., 4,557 ; Elliptic S.
M. Co., 4,575;
Empire S. M. Co., 2,955;
Parham S. M. Co., 2,056; Bertram & Fan
ton Manufacturing Co., 1,004; Bartlett S.
M. Co., 614 ; J. G. Folsom, 280 ; McKay
S. M. Association, 218 ; C. F. Thompson,
147 ; and the Union Button Hole Ma
chine, 124 ' • thus making the sales of the
singer Machines exceed those of all others,
52,000.—New York Sunday News.
A Broken-Hearted Acrobat,
Among the numerous suicides of the
day in Paris is one of a poor devil of a
street tumbler, whose story is singularly
tragic. His name was JoDenis. His bu
siness was to run about among the fairs in
the suburbs of Paris, where he took part
in a company of acrobats. He always had
his daughter with him, and, in spite of
his poverty and low social condition, he
had given her a tolerable good education,
had watched over her carefully, and would
nevel.permit her to go on the stage. Six
mod% ago she disappeared suddenly,
leaving a note for her father telling him
not to look for her. The poor old man
was nearly wild with grief. For a month
he had not the heart to appear before the
public. At last forced, by hunger, he re
sumed his old business and joined another
troupe of tumblers. One evening, when
he was amusing the public with the usual
absurd antics, a young woman very ele
gantly dressed, but also very much intox
icated, and in company with several other
young people in the same condition, came
and sat in the front row of benches. The
old man recognized his daughter. "Hello,
papa !" she cried out in a hoarse but jocu
lar voice. "Now, ladies and gentlemen,"
said the tumbler, without seeming to hear
her, "the performance is over, and lam
going to drown myself." The rough crowd
thought this was very fanny, and burst
out into loud guffaws of laughter. But
eight days after his corpse was fished up
in the Seine.
" Ef He'd Said Ducks."
During a class meeting held several
years since by the Methodist brethren of
a Southern village, brother Brown went
among the colored portion of the congre
gation. Finding there an old man noto
rious for his endeavor to serve God on the
Sabbath and Satan the rest of the week,
he said :
"Well, Brother Dick, I'm glad to see
you here. Haven't stole any turkeys since
I saw you last, Brother Dick ?"
"No, no, Brndder Brown; no turkeys."
"Nor any chickens, Brother Dick ?"
"No, no, Brudder Brown; no chickens."
"Thank the Lord, Brother Dick !
That's doing well, my brother !" said
Brother Brown, leaving Brother Dick,
who immediately relieved his over-burden
ed conscience by saying to a near neighbor,
with an immense sigh of relief :
"Ef he'd a said ducks, he'd a had me!"
GOOD COUNSEL—Whenever any one
spoke ill of another in the presence of
Peter the Great, having listened atentively,
he would say is there not a fair side also to
the character of the person of whom you
have been speaking ! Come, tell what
good qualities yen have remarked about
him. If all would walk in the steps of
this man there would perhaps be less un
kind criticism and harsh remarks aboht
our neighbors and friends. If each one
would feel obliged to speak of their own
faults first, perhaps the faults of others
would seem so trifling in comparison that
each would feel that the wisest plan was
to keep silent.
AN editor relates how a colored barber
made a dead-head of him. He offered
him the usual dime for shaving, when the
fellow drew himself up with considerable
pomposity, and said :
"I understand dat you is an editor."
"Well, what of it ?" said we.
"We neber charge editors nuffin !"
"But my woolly friend," we continned,
"there are a good many editors travelling
now-a-days, and such liberality on your
part will prove a ruinous business."
"Oh ! neber mind," remarked the bar
ber, "we make it up on de gemmen."
AN Irishman had been sick fur a long,
time, and while in this state would occa
sionally cease breathing, and life be appa
rently extinct for some time, when he
would again come to. On one of these oc
casions, when awakened from his sleep,
Patrick asked : "An how'll we know,
Jemmy, when you're dead ? You're after
waking up ivery time." "Bring me a
glass of grog, and say to me, heer's till
yees, Jemmy ! an' if I don't raise up and
drink, thin bury me."
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