The Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1871-1904, October 15, 1873, Image 1

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    VOL. 48.
The Huntingdon Journal.
J. It. DU kpORROW,
PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS
Iljice oil 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 J. R. Dunaonnow A Co., at
52.00 per annum, IN ADVANCE, or $2.50 if not paid
:or in six months from date of subscription, and
41 if not paid within the year.
No paper discontinued, pnless at the option of
the publishers, until all arrearages are paid.
No paper, however, will be sent out of the State
unless absolutely paid for in advance.
Transient advertisements will be inserted at
TWELVE AND A-RALP CENTS per line for the first
insertion, SEVEN AND A-lIALF CENTS for the second,
and FIVE CENTS per line for all subsequent inser
tions.
Regular quarterly and yearly business advertise.
meats will be inserted at the following rates :
3miOmloml
6m19 mlly
1
310 i 450 5O1 - INO , col 800 18 00 $27
500 6 00, 10 00 12 00 $ . 24 00 MI 1,0 00
3 " 700 10 00;14 00 18 00 4 .3400 00 00 86
i 2O 0012 L 001 col 30 00160 001 80
1 In7ll
Local notices will be inserted at FIFTEEN cxxn
per line for each and every insertion.
All Resolutions of Associations, Communications
of limited or individual interest, all party an
nouncements, and notices of Marriages 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.
Alt advertising accounts are due and collectable
when ths advertisentent ie once inserted.
JOB PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and
Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch.—
I land-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, ,ke., of every
variety and style, printed at the shortest notioe,
and every thing in the Printing line will be execu
ted in the most artistic manner and at the lowest
rates.
Professional Cards
AP. W. JOHNSTON, Surveyor and
• Civil Engineer, Huntingdon, Pa.
Orrice : No. 113 Third Street. aug21,1372.
DR. H. W. BUCHANAN,
DENTIST,
No. 228 Hill Street,
lIIINTINGDON, PA.
July 3,'72,
CALDWELL, Attorney -at -Law,
D•No. 111, 3rl street. Office formerly occupied
by Messrs. Woods Williamson. [apl2,'7l.
DR. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his
professional services to the community.
Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door east
of the Catholic Parsonage. Lie.n.4,'7l.
V . J. GREENE, Dentist.
A-A • mored to Leister's new buildil
1-T,ltingdon.
L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
A—A
• Brcien's new building, No. 520, Hill St.,
Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2,ll.
WI C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law
.. • Office, No. —, Hill meet, Huntingdon,
Pa. [ap.19,'71.
FRANKLIN SMOCK, Attorney
rfl • at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Prompt attention
given to all legal business. Office 229 Hill greet,
corner of Court House Square. [dec.4,'72
_ r SYLVANUS BL AIR, Attorney-at-
LI , • Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office, Hill street,
free doors west of Smith. fjan.4'7l.
Tr CHALMERS JACKSON, Attor
rfi • ney at Law. Office with Wm. Dorris, Esq.,
No. 403, Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa.
All legal business promptly attended to. Dann
T R. DURBORROW, Attorney-at
t., • Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will practioe 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.
W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law
J
• and General Claim Agent, Iluntingdon, Pa.,
S.,ldiers' claims against the Government for back
pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attend
ed to with groat care and promptness.
Office on Rill street. jjan.4,'7l.
S. GEISSINGER, Attorney -at-
L• Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office with Brown
do Bailey. [Peb.s-ly
J. HALL MUSSER.
K. ALLEN LOVELL.
L OVELL & MUSSER,
Attorneys-at-Law,
IIIr3TTINGDON; Pa.
Special attention given to COLLECTIONS of all
hinds; to the settlement of ESTATES, Bm.; and
all other legal business prosecuted with Sdelity and
dispatch. Lnoe6;72
RA. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law,
. Once, 321 31 11 street, Huntingdon. Pa.
[may3l,'7l.
JOHN SCOTT. S. T. BROWN. J. M. BAILEY
f,„VOTT, BROWN & BAILEY, At
►J torneys-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Passions,
and all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against
the tiorernment will be promptly prosecuted.
Office on Hill street. Dan. 4,11.
LLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney
at-Law,Wi 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.
Hotels.
MORRISON HOUSE,
OPPOSITE PENNSYLVANIA R. R. DEPOT
HUNTINGDON, PA
T. H. CLOVER, Prop.
April 5, 1871-17.
WASHINGTON HOTEL,
S. S. BOWDON, Prop'r.
Corner of Pitt & Juliana Ste.,Bedford, Pa. mayl.
Miscellaneous
oYES! 0 YES! 0 YES!
The subscriber bolds himself in readiness to
cry Sales and Auctions at the shortest notice.
Having considerable experience in the business
he fuels assured that be can give satisfaction.
Terms reasonable. Address G. J. HENRY,
March.s-limos. Saxton, Bedford county, Ps.
TT ROBLEY, Merchant Tailor, in
A • Bolster's Building (second floor,) Hunting
don, Pa., respectfully solicits a share of public
patronage from town and country. [0ct16,72.
A. BECK, Fashionable Barber
R• and Hairdresser, Hill street, opposite the
Franklin House. MI kinds of Tonics and Pomades
kept on handand for Balk. (ap 19,11-8 m
HIRLEYSB lIRG ELECTRO-MED
ICAL, Hydropathic and Orthopedio Insti
tute, for the treatment of all Chronic Diseases and
Deformities.
Send for Circulars. Address
Drs. BAIRD .1t GMHRB , I7,
Shirleysburg, Pa.
nov.27,'72tf]
FOR
PLAIN PRINTING,
FANCY PRINTING,
GO TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE
T'he O
.. 0 ,Lt
'I.
d'• -
1 : k
4.4 A 1 1 •
F - 1
itiTh
•
Ay . •-•
41
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Printing.
TO ADVERTISERS:
J. A. NASH,
:o:
THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL,
PUBLISHED
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING
J. R. DITRBORROW & .T. A. NASH,
Office corner of Washington and Bath Sts.,
HUNTINGDON, PA .
THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM
CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA.
CIRCULATION 1700 .
Office re
ig, Hill street
Ljan.4,'7l.
HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE
MENTS INSERTED ON REA-
SONABLE TERMS.
A FIRST CLASS NEWSPAPER
--------:o:
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
WITH
NEATNESS AND DISPATCH,
AND IN THE
LATEST AND MOST IMPROVED
STYLE,
SUCII AS
POSTERS OF ANY SIZE,
CIRCULARS,
WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS,
BALL TICKETS,
PROGRAMMES,
CONCERT TICKETS,
ORDER BOOKS,
SEGAR LABELS,
RECEIPTS,
PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS,
BILL HEADS,
LETTER HEADS,
PAPER BOORS,
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 4 CO
PITTSBURG SAFE CO.,
PITTSBURG, PENNA
FIRE BURGLAR PROOF SAM.
IF YOU WANT A GOOD, RELIABLE SLFE,
purchase ours and you will get what you want,
Prices and specifications furnished on application,
Angust2o,lB73-Iy,
SPOKES, RIMS, PLOW & HANDLES
JOHN ti. DAVIS A SON
S. W. Cor. Leopard and Otter St
;sr- Send for Price List. .S.‘
Ju1y16,1573-ly.
THE STERLING ORGAN
saved by purchasing the Sterling Organ, which for
beauty in design, purity, power and sweetness of
tone, has few or so equals. It is unrivalled for
varied and beautiful musical effects, prompt re
sponse to the touch, and ease and elasticity of ac
tion.
Ther are acknowledged by all musicians who
have examined them, to be far in advance of any
other. Call and examine prices before parchaa
ing elsewhere, as I will not be undersold, and can
afford to make large reductions in prices to boy
CTS.
9iii.. This instrument is warranted for five years.
Call or address
MISS ANNIE M. SEBES
Music Teacher,
No. 419, Moore Street,
JunelB,'73tf. Huntingdon, Pa.
GRAND EXPOSITION
SPRING AND SUMMER GOODS
NEW STORE, next door to the Post Office, Hun
tingdon, who has now in store the largest and
most desirable stock of seasonable foods, for
that has ever been opened in Huntingdon. The
BLACK CLOTHS, DOE SKINS, ENGLISH,
SCOTCH, FRENCH DOMESTIC AND
FANCY CASSIMERES,
which will be made up in the best style and in his
peculiarly neat tit and durable manner.
If you want a good suit of cloths cheap,
Call at 11. GREENBERG'S.
If you want a good Childs suit (from I year@ up,)
Call at H. ORHENBERG'S.
IC you wool a good Boys suit,
Call at H. GRERNBERG'S.
If you want a good Youths suit,
Call at 11. GREENBERG'S
If yon want a good Snit made to order,
Call at 11. GREENBERG'S.
If you want a nice line Gents Furnishing Goods,
Call at H. GREENBERG'S.
Also, Caseimeres sold.by the yard,
At 11. GREENBERG'S,
Tilors Trimmings of all kinds for sale,
At 11. GREENBERG'S.
ALL GOODS WARRANTED as REPRESENTED
Apri130.1873-Iy.
60 CHOICE BUILDING LOTS !
BUSINESS CARDS,
60 Choice BUILDING LOTS, in Taylor's Ad•
dition to West Huntingdon," for sale,
SMUCKER Sc BROWN,
LEGAL BLANKS,
A large stook of COFFINS on hand trimmed to
order and funerals attended with the New Hearse.
A1ay14,13-Iy.
FARMERS, ATTENTION ! !
The Ginnie SELF-REGULATING GRAIN SEP
ARATOR CLEANER and BAGORR, now built under
the immediate direction of the inventor, by first
class workmen and of the best material, is the only
Machine that really can by one operationthorough
ly thresh and clean Grain fit for market. For par
ticulars apply to or address HENRY BRUM-
B AUGH, - james Creek, Huntingdon county, Pa.,
Agent for Blair county, S. E. of Piney Creek;
Huntingdon county, S. of the Juniata river; Mifflin
county to Lewistown. Repairs always on band.
June2s,lB73—tf.
PAMPHLETS
SADDLE AND HARNESS MAN
UFACTORY.
The undersigned having established himself
permanently in Huntingdon, would inform the
public that he is prepared to manufacture
SADDLES,
___
and NETS
of ail kind. and the moat approved patterns
Give him a call. Shop No. 606 Washington St.
between 6th and 7th, near the Catholic Mane:
n0v114873-Bnee. JOHN A. BISBIN.
New Advertisements.
167 PENN STREET,
Manufacture
VAULTS, &C.
which ure unequaled by any other.
UNION SPOKE WORKS,
PHILADELPHIA.
30 TO 40 PER CENT.
IL GREENBERG'S
MEN AND BOYS
stock consist of
Apply to
JOHN F. MILLER.
UNDERTAKERS.
BRIDLES,
COLLARS,
HARNESS
HI7NTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1873
nt Poo! goittev,
[For the JOURNAL.]
Bessie Bell
BY THE BARD OF THE MOUNTAIN
Where the song-bird's notes were ringing,
O'er the grassy dell,
Rivalling their sweetest singing,
Wandered Jessie Dell.
Lightly trips the happy maiden,
As the fleet gazelle,
No dull care her heart to sadden,
Smiling Jessie Bell.
Where the rhshing mountain torrent
In a cascade fell,
Gazing on its glassy current.
Pensive Jessie Bell.
Poet's pen nor painter's canvass
Can not plainly tell,
All the charms that in thee centre
Lovely Jessie Bell.
Wo to him whose feet are straying,
Where thy shadow fell,
Love his heart will soon be slaying,
Caused by Jessie Bell.
Yet there's one, whose power can vanquish,
Love's most potent spell:
All thy charms thou shalt relinquish
Mortal Jessie Dell.
Long may buoyant life attend thee,
Guileless Jessie Bell ;
Oh that death should ever rend thee,
Fair one, fare thee well I
'Me ctorg-Etller.
TaritillE Over a Nio Loaf.
"It's a shame !" said Mrs. Fogg, as she
hurried away, after the funeral of Mrs.
Grant, escaping from the poor, desolate
room where two children, almost babes.
were sleeping, unconscious that they were
motherless. "It's a shame that nobody'll
take them."
"Yes—a bitter shame !" replied a neigh
bor, who was also going off as fast as she
could, so as to shift the responsibility on
some other shoulders.
"There's Mrs. Grove ; she might take
them as well as not. But they'll go to the
poor-house for all she cares."
"Well, somebody'll have to answer for
it," said Mrs. Fogg. "As for me, I've got
young ones enough of my own." •
"We left Mrs: Cole in the room. She
has only one child, and her husband is
well-to•do. I can't believe she'll have the
heart to turn away from them."
"She's got the heart for anything. But
we'll see."
Mrs. Cole did turnaaway from the sleep
ing babes, sighing aloud, with a forced
sigh that others might hear, and give her
credit for a sympathy and concern she did
not feel.
At last all were gone—all but a man
named Wheaton, and a poor woman, not
able to take care of herself.
"What's to become of these children ?"
said Wheaton.
"Don't know. Poor-house, I s'pose,"
answered the woman.
"Poor-house !"
"Yes. Nobody wants 'em, and there's
no place else for 'em."
"Mamma, mamma!" cried a plaintive
voice, and a flaxen-haired child, not much
over a year old rose up iu the bed, and
looked piteously about the room. "I want
mamma."
A great, choking sob came into the
man's throat.
Then the other child awoke and slid :
"Don't cry, sissy. Mamma's gone away."
At this the little one began crying bit
terly.
"I can't stand this, no how," said the
man, speaking in a kind of desperate
way; and, going to the bed, he gathered
the two children in his arms, hushing and
comforting them•with soothing words.
"What on earth have you got there ?"
exclaimed Mrs. Wheaton, as her husband
came striding into the room, where she
sat mending one of his well-worn garments.
"Two babies!" he answered, in a voice
so unusual that Mrs. Wheaton dropped
her work on the floor, and rose up in
amazement.
"What !"
"Mrs. Grant's two babies. I've been over
to the funeral ; and I tell you, Jane, it
wasn't in me to see these little things
carted off to the almshouse. There wasn't
a woman to look after them—no, not one.
Every soul sneaked off but Polly Jones,
and she's of no account, you know. Just
look at their dear little faces ! And he
held them up in his arms, and let their
tender, tearhal, half-frightened, half•won
dering eyes plead their cause with his
wife, and they did not plead in vain.
Surprised as she was, and with an in
stant protest in her heart, Mrs. Wheaton
could not, in the presence of these moth
erless little ones, utter a word of remon
strance. She took the youngest one from
the arms of her husband, and spoke to it
tenderly. The child sobbed two or three
times, and then laid its head against her
bosom, There was an influx of mother
love into the heart of this woman, who
bad never been a another, the instant her
breast felt the pressure of the baby's head,
and the arm that drew it closer with an
involuntary impulse was moved by this
new love.
Not many words passed between the
husband and wife—at least, not then,
though thought was very busy with both
of them. Mrs. Wheaton's manner toward
the children was kind even to tenderness,
and this manner won their confidence,
and drew from them such looks and ways
and little expressions of satisfaction as
touched the heart, and filled it, with a lov
ing interest.
After nightfall, when supper was over,
and the children asleep, Mr. and Mrs.
Wheaton sat down together, each showing
a little reserve and embarassment. Mrs.
Wheaton was the first to speak.
"What were you thinkin' about, John?"
said she, almost sharply. "I can't have
these children."
Wheaton did not lift his eyes, nor an
swer, but there was a certain dogged and
resolute air about him that his wife no
ticed as unusual. •
"Somebody else must take them," • she
said. •
"The county will do it," Wheaton re
plied.
"The county I"
"Yes. There's room for them at the
almshouse, and nowhere else, that I know
of, unless they stay here."
"Unless they stay here !" Mrs. Wheat
on's voice rose a little. "It's easy enough
to say that—but who's to take care of
them ?"
"It's a great undertaking, I know," an
swered the husband, meekly, yet with a
new quality in his voice that did not es
cape the quick ear of his wife, "aud the
burden must fall on you."
"I wouldn't mind that so much, but—"
She kept back the sentence that was on
her tongue..
"But what," asked her husband.
"John," said Mrs. Wheaton, drawing
herself up in a resolute manner, and look
ing steadily into her husband's face, "as
things are going on—"
"Things shall go on differently," inter
rupted Wheaton. "I've thought that all
over."
"How differently, John ?"
"Oh ! in every way. 111 turn over a
new leaf,"
Wheaton saw a light flash into his wife's
face.
"First and foremost, I'm not going to
lose any more days. Last month I had
six days docked from my rages."
-Why, John?"
'lt's true—more's the shame for me.
That was eighteen dollars, you see, not
counting the money I fooled away in idle
cmpany—enough to pay for all these
babies would eat and wear twice over."
"Oh, John ?" There was somethin
eager and hopeful in his wife's face as she
leaned toward him.
"I'm in downright earnest, Jane," he
answered. "If you'll take the babies, I'll
40 my part. I'll turn over a new leaf.
There shall be no more lost days; no more
foolish wasting of money; no spending of
evenings at 31eBrides."
"Oh, John 1 ." In her surprise and de
light she could only repeat the exelama
lion. As she did so this time, she rose,
nd putting her hands on his shoulders,
ent and kissed him on the forehead.
"You'll take the babies ?" said be.
"Yes, and twenty more, if you keep to
this, and say so," answered Jane, laugh
ing through tears.
"All right then. It's a bargain." And
Wheaton caught his wife's hand and
spook it by way of confirmation.
From that time Wheaton turned over a
slewe leaf. Neighbors expressed surprise
when it was told that Jane Wheaton had
adopted the two orphan children.' Fel
low-workmen taunted John. calling him
soft-hearted, and a fool, for "taking other
ace's brats."
One said to him, "Are four months
easier to fill than two ?"
Another, "You'll be sick of all this
before the year's out."
And another, "I'll see you sold out by
the sheriff in less than six months."
But John had little to say in reply—
only maintaining an air of quiet good
hituor, and exhibiting more interest in
hs work.
iorileree weeks John had not lost a
dty—something very unusual; and not
one evening during that time had ho
spent at Mcßride's drinking saloon. His
poor little home. which had come to have
a neglected look, was putting on a new ap
pearance. The gate that far months bad
hobbled on one hinge,.now swung smooth
ly, and the mende latch held it shut.
Rtnk weeds no longer filled the door-yard;
the broken steps were mended, and clean
panes of glass filled many a place in the
sashes where had been unsightly rags and
sheets of paper. A neglected running
rosglaras trimmed, and was now pushing
0 , ,,,, 'ung green leaves and buds.
',. 'AD, pleasant changes were also ap
prt' .. Various new but inexpensive
a,,i es of furniture were to be found.
C. things were mended, polished up and
v" derfully improved. With all this,
r 0
velous to relate, Wheaton's earnings
In . not only been equal to the increased
e enditure, but there was an actual sur
pr, aof ten dollars in hand. .. .. ..
I never would have believed it," said
as he and his wife sat one evening
t Lug over their improved condition of
:he babies—loved now almost as if
3ir own—were asleep. "It's just as old
lc 'own used to say—'Waste takes more
t; an want.' I declare I've got heart in
again. I thought we should have to
'lie the place go; that I'd never be able to
pry off the mortgage. But here we are,
ten dollars ahead in less than a month ;
ar.d going on at this rate, we'll have all
char in eighteen months."
Next day a fellow-workmen said to
Wheaton, half in banter : "Didn't I see
the constable down your way yesterday ?"
"I shouldn't wonder," replied Wheaton,
w - th more gravity of manner than his
estioner had expected.
"I thought I saw him looking around
a - fer things, and counting his fees on his
fi n;ers.
'Likely as not," said Wheaton. "I
k sow of a good many rents not paid up
lr quarter. Money gone to Mcßridp's
ii lead of to the landlord—eh"'
The man winced a little.
"How are the babies ?" he asked.
'First-rate," Wheaton answered, and
• h a smile so real that his fellow-work
n n could not pursue his banter.
rime went on, end, to the surprise of
a Wheaton's circumstances kept im
'
win , . The babies had brought a bles
: gto the house. In less than eighteen
n nths he had paid off the light mortgage
t it for years rested on his "little home ;
a d not only this, had improved it in va
r ms ways, even to the putting up of a
iall addition, so as to give them a neat
eakfast room.
The children grew finely—there were
farce of them now, for their hearts and
tome had opened to another orphan baby
—and, being carefully trained by Mrs.
Wheaton, were a light and joy to the
house.
At the end of five years we will intro
duce them briefly to the reader. Wheaton
is a master-workman, and employs ten
men. He has enlarged his house, and
made it one of the neatest in the village.
Among his men is the very one who ban
tered him most about the children, and
prophesied that he would soon be sold out
by the constable. Poor man ! it was not
long before the constable had him in
charge. He had wasted his money at Mc-
Bride's, instead of paying it to the land
lord.
Walking homeward one evening after
work was over, Wheaton and his journey
man took the same way. They were si
lent until they came near the farmer's
pretty dwelling, when the journeyman
said, hell' in jest, yet with undisguised bit
terneis : "I guess we'll have to take a
baby or two."
"Why," asked Wheaton, not Perceiv
ing what was in the man's thought.
"For good luck," said the journeyman.
"Oh I"
"You've had nothing but good luck
since you took poor Mrs. Grant's orphan
children."
Only such good luck as every one may
have if he will," answered Wheaton.
"I can't see it," returned the man.
'Your wages were no better than mine.
I had one child, and you saddled yourself
with two, and not long afteradded a third.
And how is it to-day ? You have a nice
house, and your wife and children are
well dressed, while I have never been able
to make both ends meet, and my boy
looks like a ragamuffin half the time.
"Do you see that house over there—the
largest and the handsomest in the place ?"
; said Wheaton.
• "Yes."
I "Who owns it ?"
"Jimmy N cßride."
"How much did you pay toward build
ing it ?"
"Me?"—in surprise. -
"Yes, you! How much did you pay
toward building it ?"
"Why, nothing. Why should I help
pay for his house ?"
"Sure enough ! Why should your hard
earnings go to build and furnish an ele
gant house for a man who would rather sell
liquor, and so ruin his neighbors, body
and soul, than support himself in a useful
calling, as you and. I are trying to do ?"
"I can't see what you're driving at,"
said the journeyman.
"How much a week do you spend at
Mcßride's saloon ?"
The man stood still, with a blank look
on his face.
"A dollar a week ?" asked Wheaton.
"Yes."
"Say a dollar and a half."
"Well. say as much,"
"Do von know what that amounts to in
a year?' ; '
"Never counted it up."
"Seventy-eight dollars !"
"No !"
"Yes, to a dollar. So in five years, a 6
this rate, you have contributed four hun
dred dollars toward Mcßride's handsome
house, without n etting anything but harm
in return, apd bavn't a shingle over your
head that you can call your own. Now,
it's my advice, in a friendly way, that you
stop helping Mcßride, and begin to help
yourself. He's comfortable enough, and
can do without your dollar and a half a
week. Take a baby, if you will for good
luck. You'll find one over at. the poor
house ; it won't cost you half as much as
helping Mcßride, and I don't think he
needs your aid any longer. But hero we
are at home, and 1 see wife and children
waiting for me. Come in, won't you ?"
"No, thank you. go home stud
talk to Ellen about taking a baby for good
luck." And he tried to smile, but it was
in anything but a cheerfulway. He passed
onward, but called back after going a few
steps, "If you see anything of my Jack
about your pines just send him home, will
you ?
Jack was there, meanly dressed and
dirty, and in striking contrast with Whea
on's three adopted children, who, with the
only mother they knew, gave the happy
man a joyful welcome home.
"I've turned over a new leaf," said the
journeyman, when lie came to work on
the next morning.
"Indeed ! I'm glad to hear it," returned
Wheaton.
"Ellen and I talked it over last night.
I'm done helping saloon-keepers build
fine houses. Glad you put it to me just
in that way. Never looked at it so before.
Bnt it's just the hard truth. What fools
we are !"
"Going to take a baby ?" said Wheaton,
smiling.
"Well, we havn't just settled that. But
Ellen heard yesterday of a poor little
thing that'll have to go on the county if
some one don't take it ; and I shouldn't
wonder, now, if she opened her heart, for
she's a motherly body."
"Where is it?" asked Mr. Wheaton.
"Down at the Woodbury Mills."
Wheaton reflected a few moments, and
then said : "Look here, Frank; take my
advice and pat this baby between you and
Mcßride's—between you and lost days—
between you and idle thriftlessness, and,
my word for it, in less than two years
you'll have your own roof overyour head."
Only for a little while did the man hes
itate, then, with an emphatic manner, he
exclaimed : "I'll do it."
"Do it at once, then," said Wheaton.
"Put on your coat, and go over to the
Mills and get the baby. It will be an an
gel in your house, that will help and bless
you ia every hour of temptation. Go at
once. God has opened for you this way
of safety, and if you walk therein all will
be well."
He:.did walk therein, and all was well.
Wheaton's prophecy was fulfilled. In less
than two years the journeyman had his
own roof over his head, and it covered a
happy home.--/Irtltur's Illustrated Borne
Magazine
-(putling tor the
Joining the Church
Says one man : "I have easily besetting
sins. lam striving against them, and
when 1 have overcome them, I mean to
join the church." Now the church is a
fort into which the man should run that
he may fight better for his life against his
adversary.
A man says: "I am full of diseases
from head to foot, and as soon as I get
cured of them I am going into the hospi
tal." What are you going into the hospi
tal for, when you are cored ?
The Church is a hospital where men
may be cured. The Church is a bulwark
that hides men from the stroke of battle.
The church is a echool house. It is a
father's or a brother's house. It is a fam
ily, all the members of which are striving
to help, as far as they can, those who are
associated with them. It is an institution
in which men are trying to save their fel
low-men by throwing about them the
silken cords of sympathy and giving them
the right hand of fellowship, and teaching
them to help themselves.
Many a man that has been lost would
have been saved if he had gone into the
church and said : "I am weak, and in
peril, and there are hours when I de not
feel myself able to stand; brethren hold me
up." If a man comes into the church
saying, "I have met with a great change ;
thank God I am safe, and I come here to
shine," if that is the spirit with which one
comes into the church, and if he can come
so readily and truly, we want men for
lanterns and headlights all along the road,
and it is not a bad thing. But then there
are multitudes of men who might well
come into the church saying, "Brethren.
give me harbor. There are storms after
me, and I cannot stand the sea. Give me
anchorage." Let such men in. Give
them shelter and protection. What is a
church good for that is not good for help
ing sinners? Men say, "Take care•of the
church." A church is not good for any
thing except for what it can do for men.
It is a hospital built to look pretty and to
be clean and pure. What is a hospital
good for but to receive persons who have
diseases, and to cure them? A church is
good in the proportion in which it helps
men who cannot help elsewhere; and the
more desperate is the case of the man whom
it rescues, the more noble is the church.
Brain Mystaries
Lengthy particulars are given in the
Dundee Advertiser of the important dis
coveries as regards the brains of animals;
recently made by Dr. Ferrier, the holder
of the chair of Forensic Medicine in Icing's
College, London. About a month ago Dr.
Ferrier, at the invitation of Dr. Chrichton
Brown, went to Wakefield, and was amply
provided with cats, dogs and other animals
for his experiments. The animal to be
experimented on is first put under chloro
form. The next thing is to clear away the
skull and expose the brain. This it will
be understood, is a difficult operation, but
is done, and the animal may live from
three to four days. All this has been down
often enough before, but the difficulty is
to get some mode of rousing parts of the
brain into activity without injuring the
parts. Here Faraday. comes in. Such is
the way of scientific discoveries—every'
step leads to the next. Without Simpson
and chloroform the operation could not
have been successfully attempted. With
out Faraday the operation might have been
performed a thousand times without. lead
ing to any result. The process employed
by Dr. Ferrier is known as faradising.—
After uncovering the brain he applies the
point of an electrode to the cotivolutus of
the brain. Its effect is to excite the func
tional activity of that part, and thereby to
show what its real work is. One of the
finest experiments disclosed the part that
is employed in wagging the tail. Soon
after the centers engaged in supplying the
limbs, the mouth, head, etc., were discov
ered. Nothing could surpass the interest
of these experiments. On the table before
you is the dog with hisskull removed. All
seems, but for the breathing and move
ment of the brain, an inert mass of dead
matter. The doctor applies the electrode,
and presently the tail begins to wag; all
else is motionless. Another touch and its
forepaw is stretched out; another, and its
head is erected; another, and its month
opens. Again the magic wand touches
the brain, and the animal seems convulsed
with fear and rage, and so on experiments
go. ()lee the divining rod has been dis
covered it is comparatively easy for an ex
pert vissicator to use it. The discovery, so
simple, once it is known, will effect almost
a revolution in physiology.
Hitherto it has been looked on as an
axiom that you cannot experiment with
the brain—that it is too bear the seat of
life to be tampered with. Now, experiment
has lieen introduced into a region where
we had reconciled ourselves to the vague
and uncertain light of observation. There
can be no doubt that we shall soon know
tba particular use of every convolution of
the brain. Phrenology, from the sphere
of empirical observation, will become a
science. One of the•chief results attained
by Dr. Ferrier is the belief that each con
volution is a separate organ, although oc
casionally several may be conjoined for
common work. He also finds that the
great motion centres are collected in the
front part of the brain, a result that shows
the phrenologists were not far out in that
quarter. It also has demonstrated that
the nerves moving the muscles of the jaw
are just above the ear, where the phreno
logists place gustativoness. But other ex
periments made sad havoc with the locali
ty of many of the "bumps." The most
singular of the experiments is the one pro
ving that the main use, if not the sole use,
of the cerebellum is to supply the muscles
of the eye. But the most important im
mediate effects of Dr. Ferrier's discovery
will be an improved treatment of diseases
of the brain. It has fbund out why con
siderable portions of the brain may be dis
eased without interfering with sanity, and
why other slight lesions produce epilepsy.
It has succeeded in artificially producing
epilepsy in 'a dog. This is a most wonder
ful part of the discovery, and proves the
truth of the conjecture of Dr. Hewlings
Jackson, that epilepsy arises from a lesion
between two convulsions of the brain. Dr.
Ferrier has also found out the origin of
chorea, or St. Vitus' dance, and has been
able to make his animals show all symp
toms of the disease artificially.
Spilling
It is a curious thing to consider how
many people there are in the world whose
daily habits are very little superior to those
of the beasts of the field. They do not
understand the use of the bath. They are
guilty of all sorts of dirty practices, and
it is one of their peculiarities that they care
nothing whatever for the annoyance or dis
comfort they inflict upon others. They
are half unconscious that their own habits
are very objectionable, and consequently
they do not always reflect that they give
great offense to others. They live like
pigs themselves, and naturally fancy that
the manners and customs of the sty are
universally popular and agreeable. Con
sequently they go about the world a nui
satce to everybody, and utterly incapable
of learning anything from the example of
better people around them.
The spitters are among the most offensive
of this numerous class. They have no re
spect for man, woman, or child. You see
their tracks in every thoroughfare and ev
ery public building. They would as soon
make their mark on your best carpet as on
the roadway. Half the people to be met
with in the streets are dangerous to pass—
for just as you get up to them, they dis
charge a volley which you arc likely to
receive full on dress or coat, without hope
of "dodging" it. Ladies, of course suffer
the most. They cannot get out of the
way. And the chewers care little for their
feelings. They regard the world as a huge
spitbox, and would resent any suggestion
as to the filthiness of their actions as an
infringement of personal liberty.
In cars, the nuisance is almost worse than
in the streets. The driver very likely chews.
and his contributions to the universal spit
toon are carried through the car, to the
great delight of the passengers. Or a man
will seat himself by the window at the up
per end of the car and begin scattering his
favors on all sides of him—on the mat, out
of the window, to the right, left, or any side
he may momentarily fancy. The wind may
be ahead, and thus diffuse the shower in a
spray through the ear. Remonstrance is
useless. man has a right to spit, hasn't
he?" And if you don't like it, you eau
get out of the ear and walk.
These persons are what a famous lecturer
calls "beasts way down." The language
sounds strong, notwithstanding its obscu
rity, but the Amherst young men probably
understand it. At any rate, there can be
but one opinion among docent people with
regard to this foul habit of spitting. It is
a thing to be checked, if possible. But if
anybody asks how it is possible to do it, we
shall be obliged to say that we do not know.
This is one of those evils which we can on
ly describee without professing to be able
to supply a remedy.—N. Y. Times.
NO. 41.
Buffalo Bill,
lI'S RTRANOR AND V ARIED CAREER.
This celebrated scout, so well known by
his famous exploits, was born in Scott
county, lowa, in 1839, and received the
Christian name of William F. Cody. At
ten years of age he removed with his fath
er, Isaac Cody, to Kansas. The elder Co
dy was elected a member of the first Kan
sax legislature, when met at Lecompton,
and was one of most active settlers in
the struggle that made "bleeding Kansas"
a free State. He was killed in 1856.
William, in order to support his sisters
and widowed mother, although poly 15
years old, entered the service of Russel,
Major & Waddel, as a freighter across the
plains, and - continued in their . employment
until the establishment of the pony ex
press, in, which he was the first rider that
started on the route. He left this busi
ness when telegraph superseded it and en
tered the army as a scout under General
Blunt, and served in the noted company
known as the Red-legged Scouts. Al
though not out of his teens his reputation
as a dare-devil scout, who feared neither
hostile Indians nor treacherous white men,
was wide-spread. He served during the
war as a scout in the army of the West.
At the close of the war he was employed
as hunter for the Kansas Pacific railroad
at a salary of $5OO a month and found,
and during his eighteen months' service
killed 4.280 buffalo, as recorded on the
books of the company, which earned for
him his soubriquet, and which has placed
him among the favored list at the Imperial
Court of St. Petersburg.
Subsequently be challenged any man in
the world to kill that description of cattle
with him, which was accepted by a man
nam.:d Comstock. Arrangements wore DA
eordingly made, and the match took plat
in Kansas plains, and was witnessed by
nearly one thousand persons, who bad hied
thither from all parts. The contest was
5500 a side, lasted sn entire day, and when
the slain cattle were counted at night it
was found that sixty-nine had met death
at the hands of Bill, while his antagonist's
score was fifty-four.
At the breaking out of the Indian war
of' 1867 he became Gen. Sheridan's scout
and guard. During the winter of 1868
he was attached to General •Cart's com
mand, and sines that time, until within
about three months, has served as a scout
to General Sheridan. ..ks a marksman, as
a hunter, as a scout, as a horseman, Buf
falo Bill may be said to be the King of the
Prairies.
About six feet in height, straight as an
arrow, perfectly proportioned, with fine
waving hair falling down upon his 'boul
ders, large, clear, brown eyes that look
calmly upon the most frightful scenes, he
is one to: win the admiration , of the fair
sex, or lead his fellows in the fiercest con
flict. Naturally enough, in all his conflicts
he has not passed unscathed, and mania
scar and wound bears silent witness of his
bravery, one of which, in his leg, still
troubles him severely.
Mr. Cody was a favorite guide for
Sheridan and Costar, and won the firm
personal friendship, not only of those dis
tinguished military men, but all with whom
he was associated. When the Grand Duke
Alexis was afforded an opportuntty to hunt
buffalo upon the prairies, Mr. Cody was
detailed as his especial guide, and received
from the lmperiAl visitor substantial to
kens of his regard.
Died Yesterday.
Every day is written this little sentence :
"Died yesterday." So-and-so. Every day
a flower is plucked from some home—a
breach is made in some happy circle—a
jewel stolen from some treasury of love.
Each day, from the summer fields of life,
some harvest disappears—yea, every hour
some sentinel falls from the ramparts into
eternity. Even as we write the funeral of
one 'died yesterday," winds like a winter
shadow along the streets.
"Died yesterday." Who died ? Per
haps it was a gentle babe, sinless as an
angel, pure as the zephyr's hymn—one
whose laugh was as the gash of summer
rills loitering in the bower of roses—whose
life was a perpetual litany—a Maytime
crowned with the passion flowers thatnev
er fade.
Or mayhap it was a youth hopeful, hap
py and generous, whose path was hemmed
by flowers with not a serpent lurking un
derneath—one whose soul panted for com
munion with the great and good and reach
ed for the garden in the distance. But
the heart is still, now; he -died yesterday."
"Died yesterday." A young girl pure
as the orange flowers that clasped her fore
head, was stricken down as she stood at the
altar; and from the strong aisles of the
temple, she was borne to the "garden of
the slumberers."
A tall, crowned man girt with the halo
of victory, and at the day's close, under his
own vine and fig tree, fell' to dust even with
the anthem upon his lips; and he, too, was
laid "where the forefathers of the hamlet
sleep."
An aged patriarch, bowed with age and
cares, even as he looked out upon the dis
tant hills for the coming of the aged hosts,
sank into dreamless slumber, and on his
door post is written : -'Died yesterday."
"Died yesterday?' Daily men, women
and children are passing away, and hourly
in some graveyard the sod is flung upon
the dead. As often in the morn we find
some flower that binned sweetly in the
sunset was withered up forever, so daily,
when we rise from the bivouac to stand
against oar posts, we miss some brother
soldier whose cheery cry in the sieges and
struggles of the past has been as fire from
heaven upon our hearts.
Each day some pearl drops from the
jewel thread of friendship—some lyre to
which we have been wont to listen, hss
been hushed forever. But wise is he who
mourns not the pearl and music lost, for
life with him shall pass away silently as an
Eastern shadow from the hills, and death
be a triumph and gain.
MEN plant prayers and endeavors, add
go next day looking to see if they hare
borne graces. Now Clod does not send
graces as he sends light and rain, but they
are wrought in us through long days of
discipline and growth. Acorns and gra
ces sprout quickly, but grow long before
ripening.
AT the examination at a shool not far
from London, a young tyro in declamation,
who had been told by the teacher that he
must gesticulate according to the sense, in
commencing a piece with The comet lifts
its fiery tail," lifted the tail of his coat to
a horisontal position, causing roars of
laughter.
TIME and'tide wait for no man.