VOL. 49 The Huntingdon Journal. I. R. DURBORROW, 0 . 17:Ce ;Pi seer JO CRS Ai. Building, Fifth Street. Tue licarisonox Jong:cea is published every Wednesday, by.,!. R. DURBORROW and J. A. NASH, under the firm name of J. it. DURBORROW & Co., at $2.00 per annum, IN ADVANCES, 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 arc paid. No paper, however, will bo sent out of the State unless absolutely paid for in advance. . . Transient ad've'rtiseuients will be inserted at Twccvs AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first insertion, SEVEN AND A-HALF CENTS forthe second, and rtve. CENTS per line for all subsequent inser tion:. Regular quarterly and yearly business advertise ments will be inserted at the followinz rates : 55C 590 1 10 00 12 001 0. 1 1. 00 00 21. 00 1 3ml6m t.4,ToiriT)olStio A " 2100410 :44 MIN 00 1 1 c 01,36 00100 00 I Inch' 2 3 " Local notices will be inserted at FIFTEEN CENTS per line for each and every insertion. All Resolutions of Associations, Communications of limited or individual interest, all party an nouncements, and notices of 3larriagas and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will he charged TEN CENTS per lice. Legal and other notices will be charged to the party having them inserted. Advertising Agents must find their commission outside of thesefigures. All advertising =mints are due and eollectable when tie advertisement is once inserted. JOB PRINTING of every kind, in Plain and Fancy Colors. ik,ne with neatness and dispatch.— II a ad-bills. Blanks, Cards. Pamphlets, itc.. of every cnriery 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 AP.IV. JOHNSTON, Surveyor and • Civil Engineer, Huntingdon, Pc. OFFICE: No. 113 Third Street. ung21,1612. BROWN & BAILEY, Attorneys-at- Low, Office 2.1 door east of First National Bank. Prompt personal attention will be given to all legal business entrusted to their care, and to the collection and remittance of claims. Jan. 7,71. D R. H..W. BUCHANAN, DENTIST, No. 223 Ilia Street, lIUNTINGDON, PA July 3, '72. DCALTWELL, Attorney -at -Law, •No. 111, 3d street. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods t Williadison. (ap12,71. Dlt. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door cast of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan.4,'7l. J. GREENE, Dentist. Office re • moved to Loisteeo new buildin7.. Hill street Yontingdon. Dan. 4,71. GL. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. . Brcwn's now building, No. 520, Rill St., II an tingdon, Pa. AC. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law • Office, No. —, Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa. [ap.19,'71. FRANKLIN SCHOCK, Attorney • at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Prompt attention given to all legal business. Oflion 229 street, corner of Court Houso Square. [dec.4,'72 SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at- Law,r." • Huntingdon, Pa. Office, Hill street, hree doors west of Smith. [jan.4'Tt. j . CHALMERS JACKSON, Attor r, • ney at Law. °Mee with Wm. Dorris, Esq., No. 403, Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa. 1111 legal huoiaess promptly attended to. [janl3 T IL DURBORROW, Attorney-at t." • Low, 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 W. MATTER N, Attorney-at-Law J • 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;7l. S. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at- L• Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Office one door East of it. M. Speer's office. [Feb.s-ly J. HALL Mtrassa. K. ALLEN LOVELL. L OVELL & MUSSER, Attorneys-n/rLnis RC;ITIciODOX PA. Special attention given to COLLECTIONS of all kinds; to the settlement of ESTATES, de.; and all other legal business prosecuted with fidelity and i dispatch. n0v6,72 Tel A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law, • °Moe, 321 Hill street, Huntingdon, Pa. Linay3l,'7l. -VT -ILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney st-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention given to collections, and all other legal badness attended to with care and promptness. Office, No. 229, Hill atre'' [apl9,ll. Hotels. JACKSON HOUSE, FOUR DOORS EAST OF TIIE UNION DEPOT, HUNTINGDON, PA, A. B. ZEIGLER, Prop. N0v12;73-6m. HO - MORRISON HOUbE, OPPOSITE PENNSYLVANIA R. R. DEPOT HUNTINGDON, PA J. 11. CLOVER, Prop. April 5, iSil-ly. MiscelLaneotts T o r ItOBLEY, Merchant Tailor, in A A • Lciater's Building (second floor,) Hunting don, Pa., respectfully solicits a share of public patronage from town and country. [0at16,72. RA. BECK, Fashionable Barber • and Hairdresser, Hill street, oppoeite the Franklin House. All kinds of Tonics and Pomades kept on hands,, l for sale. [apl9,'7l—Om FrOFFMAN & SKEESE, Manufactorers of all kinds of CHAIRS, and dealers in PARLOR and KITCHEN FURNI. TURE, corner of Fifth and Washington streets Huntingdon, Pa. All articles will be sold cheap, Particular and prompt attention gives ft repair ing. A share of public patronage is respeetfully solicited. [jan.is,'73y WM. WILLIAMS, MANUFACTURER OF MARBLE MANTLES, MONUMENTS. HEADSTONES, &C., HUNTINGDON, PA: STER PARIS CORNICES, MOULDIN . GS. &C: ALSO SLATE MANTLES FURNISHED TO ORDER. Jan. 4. IL CIO TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE ILA- lot MI kinds of printinx. FOR ALL KINDS OF PRINTING, GO TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE F ; - : f.i ' , .i:T , E.I . .;- F C -..: . A 7 10 P: ~ ...„ he „..r. . .R. 1„ , ull t ill . :a 0 . • ~ . _ . ,:.„..„. ! Printing. TO ADVERTISERS J. A. NASH, :0: THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL. PUBLISHED 9mi 1 y $ 27'$ 36 10 65 65 SO 8 01 100 EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING J. R. DURBORROW & J. A. NASH. Office corner of Fifth and Washington Sta. HUNTINGDON, PA. THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA, :o: CIRCULATION 1700. :o: HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE MENTS INSERTED ON REA- SONABLE TERMS. Capl2, , 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 TILE LATEST AND MOST IMPROVED STYLE, SUCIIAS POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIRCULARS, WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS, BALL TICKETS, PROGRAMMES, CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS, SEGA.R LABELS, RECEIPTS, PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS, BILL HEADS, LETTER HEADS, PAPER BOOKS, ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., Our facilities foc 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.DURBOXROW 4% CO , "Vii.tilaiarG THE PLANK," The history of the West is one long list of bloody and atrocious deeds. Not the least in the dark and interminable catalogue is the little event we are now about to lay before . our kind readers. We heard the story from the lips of one who professed—and we had no reason to doubt his word—to have played a prominent part in the thrilling occurrence, and we give it to you just as we heard it. Some years ago, (said the nar rator,) a friend and myself agreed to take a tramp, hunter fashion, through the great wilderness of the North-West. Having provided our selves with what things we consid ered actually necessary, and nothing more, we started upon our perilous journey; for that it was perilous we were fully aware, and every reader will admit. After encountering innumerable hardships and many dangers, we found ourselves in the wildest kind of a region, many miles distant from the haunts of civilization. Already we had passed through, enough to discourage most men, but We were young and full of blood, and not easily put out or frightened. This was particularly the case with my companion, whose name was An drew Huff. Both of us were perfectly healthy, as strong as iron, and considerably experienced in the use of such ar ticles as rifles, pistols and bowie knives. In all these 'respects we could hold our owi with the best; had it been otherwise, we would never have lived to reacli the point at which we finally arrived. _ Just about dark one evening in the latter part of July, after a hard day's tramp, we hilted for the night. A darker, deeper, lonelier solitude than that which surrounded us, it would be hard to.imagine. Silently we made a little fire and cooked our supper; silently we ate it. Worn out, and for the time being slightly dispirited, we were in no humor for conversation. • For some time we sat by our camp-fire without uttering a single wore, and almost without moving. I was thinking of home and absent friends, and it is only reasonable to suppose that Huff was similarly oc cupied. After the lapse of some time, our fire burnt low, and I arose to replen ish it. The bark of a wolf startled me, and I spoke to my companion. Huff did not answer me, how ver, but, without noticing the cir umstance, I threw a quantity of f agots on the fire, and said: "Take a few hours' rest, Andy, and I'll keep watch, and "after that you cau do the same by me." - Still I got no answer, and then I began to notice my companion's unusual taciturnity. "Anything the matter, Andy ?" said I, regarding him closely. • No answer again. "That's a little strange," I mut tered, moving over towards my companion. Tuff was sitting facing the fire, with his head bent upon his knees. I shook him without arousing him. Finally, I raised his head, and at once became conscious that he was soundly, deeply asleep. Laughing off the fears which had for a few moments oppressed me, I left Huff to enjoy his nap, and set tled myself down as comfortably as the circumstances would permit. I was dreadfully drowsy, and de spite our perilous situation, despite every effort I made to the contrary, I could not entirely resist the over powering influence of sleep. Occa sionally I started up suddenly, and found that I had been dozing. The last time I was aroused, I was awa kened by the barking of a wolf. Jumping to my feet, 1 beheld the fierce animal not a dozen paces dis tant, his ravenous eyes glaring upon me from the darkness. Seizing up a brand, I flung it at the rapacious monster, with all my strength. It struck him full in the face, and, with a terrible howl, he darted off into the forest. My comrade did not awaken—did not even stir—so sound was his repose. BUSINESS CARDS, After that I did not feel much inclined to sleep, though nothing more was to be seen or heard. I examined my rifle and pistols, piled more faggots on the fire, and kept on the move, with my eyes and ears open for any more .nocturnal vis itors. Some time. passed away quietly, and I began to grow insufferably weary. Every muscle relaxed, and a drowsy stupor gradually stole over me. My eyes closed unconsciously ; my knees bent beneath me, and I was about dropping to the ground, when I was suddenly aroused by the sound of a man's voice. LEGAL BLANKS "Hello! fellers, how d'yer do?" were the words which fell upon my ears, and aroused me to full con sciousness. I looked around in bewilderment. Our little camping-groun,d was en circled by-a dozen or more brawny,, fierce-looking desperadoes. It was a complete surprise, and on the spur of the moment, I yelled aloud : "Andy, Andy, wake up!" "Yes; wake up, Andy!" echoed the outlaws loudly and derisively. PAMPHLETS Aroused at last, my companion sprang to his feet, and at the next moment was standing by my side. Instantly a dozen or more rifles were leveled at us with a deadly aim. " Yer ain't goin' to show fight, are ye ?" demanded One of the out laws, a brutal-looking wretch, and Mr toxii-VOitr. HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 15, 1874. the leader of the band, as it after wards appeared. "Thai depends entirely on circum stances!" responded Andy, unhesi tatingly. " We're two good men, afraid of neither man or beast— and if your intentions are hostile, as they appear to be, you may take my word for it that we'll give you all the trouble we can." "You won't now, will yer ?" re joined the desperado, tauntingly. " Guess ye'll have yer hands full of yer try that sort uv a game." "Well, what do you want here, anyhow ?" I demanded boldly, fully satisfied in my own mind that if we got out of the present scrape we would have to fight it out." "What do we want h-yar ?" was the rapid reply. "I guess the for est's as free to us as it is to anybody else. Don't karktilate that you're boss here, stranger, do yer?" • " No;" was Andy's quick reply, (taking the words out of my mouth,) " nor are you. But that's not the point!" he added; "what do you want with us?" " Yer money an' yer traps ! Un derstand that sort o' talk, don't yer?" " Yes • we understand that jou're a gang of thieves and cut-throats !" responded Andy fiercely ; but if you can get anything from us you've got to fight for it, though we arc but two against a dozen. Give 'em a • shot, comrade !" added. the fiery fellow, addressing hiniself to me. "We can't make the matter any worse !" I thought so too, and raising my rifle, Andy and I fired simultane ously. Immediately two of the outlaws fell dead to the ground, and the rest uttered a concerted yell that sounded more fearful than the howl of the wolf I had so recently driven away. " . 2sTow give 'em the pistols !" shouted Andy, his whole soul in the deadly conflict. _ Each of us carried a brace of double-barrelled pistols, which gave us eight shots between us, and as quick as lightning we were dis charging the lodes in the faces of the outlaws. Six more cf the bri gands fell before our aim, while we remained uninjured, notwithstand ing a number of 'tattering shots whistled around our ears and over our heads. "Now charge upon the thieves !" , elled Andy, in stentorian tones. I followed my comrade's lead, and together we charged upon the remaining five outlaws, for that number was left. A fierce and bloody fight ensued. Andy per formed miracles, and I did double duty; but, as fate would have it, we were both rent,lered hors du com bat—my comrade y a pistol wound iu his side, and I by a bowie cut in the shoulder. I knew nothing more after that, for the next moment I became un conscibus. When I came to myself, I found I was in a cave, and it was not long before I discovered that the cave was the haunt of robbers. This much I learned by listening, for I could see nothing; the leight light of day seemed never to pene trate that dismal cavern. It was the gloomiest, chilliest place I was ever in, and from the bottom of my heart I wished myself well out of it. I thought of Andy, you may be sure, but could see no way of find ing out what had become of him. After a while, however, an old and outrageously ugly Indiarfsquaw made her appearance. She brought me food and medicine, and tempo rary light. My wounds had already been dressed. Of course, I was ea ger to question her. " My good woman," said I, very pleasantly, "I would like to know where I am ; will you tell me ?" She shook her head negatively; and to all I could say or do, I got no other answer. I inquired about Andy, and other matters, but re ceived no satisfaction. Finally I gave up in despair, and let the old hag go. _ A. — week passed, and I was com paratively well. About the expira tion of that time, the old squaw came to me one day and beckoned me to follow her. Having no reason to refuse obedie"nee, I complied with her directions, and after traversing a number of dark passages, found myself in the open air. It was a bright and sunny morning, and, despite my situation, I inhaled the pure atmosphere with delight. Assembled on the spot I beheld a gang of a score or more of the worst:looking men I had ever en countered, and in the midst of them my friend and companion, Andrew Huff. Andy looked pale and ema ciated, and appeared to have suffered much more than myself. We had barely time to greet each other, and say, "God bless you, comrade!" when we were suddenly and roughly seized and gagged. At the same time one of the out laws, whom I at once recognised as the leader of the party we had first encountered, stepped forward and addressed us : "Now, cuss yer!" he cried pas sionately, "well rgike you pay for yer hard work Vother night. Strip 'em!" In a few minutes we were stripped to the skin, and we had neither the power to resist nor expostulate. We were separately led to the brink of a chasm near, and made to look down into the almost un fathomable depths. A stream of water dashed along over the rocks at the bottom. It made me dizzy to look down! We were then sta tioned a few feet from the brink, with a guard over us. I then ,be gan to comprehend that some hor rible death awaited us, and my feelings were fearful. A plank about twelve feet long and a foot wide was then brought forward and placed half-way over the precipice. My blood ran cold at the preparations. On one end of the plank two men stationed themselves. "Now, drive the chap forward!" shouted the leader, pointing to my comrade. "rother feller shall see him drop, au' then he follers arter him. Drive him on thar, bosses!" Every effort was made to move Andy, but the poor fellow continued obstinate. The outlaws beat him with their rifles, and pricked him with their knives, but lie refused to stir. "Carry the man !" shouted the leader madly. Despite his struggles, Andy was picked up and carried to the plank. As the outlaws let him down they gave him a violent push, which sent him forward to the end of the plank. Andy swayed from side to side, and struggled wildly to regain his bal ance. He failed, however, and fell over—in his fall desperately clutch ing the plank. There he held, with his finger-nails buried in tke wood ! It was a horrid scene, and my blood runs cold at the bare recollection of it. "Let him go!" shouted the fiend ish leader. The men who were standing on the other end of the plank jumped off, and the plank and Andy whirled down into the seething depths below. Despite the gag in his mouth, poor Andy uttered a loud and terrifying Shriek before he disappeared from sight forever. The cry rings in my ears now, though years have passed since then; I shall never forget it. The outlaws sprang to the edge of the cliff; and with a savage ex ultation watched Andy's descent. "Now fur t'other one !' shouted the leader, after a lapse of a few minutes; but at that instant a loud report of fire-arms suddenly rever berated far and near, and at least one-half of the bandits fell dead to the earth. The balls whistled around me a;• thick as hail, but I escaped unhurt. Instantly after wards a party of trappers rushed upon the scene and charged at the outlaws. The fight was short but desperate. In the end not an out law of them all remainee alive, al though they fought like incarnate devils. In the first moment of the melee I got away, out of the reach of all harm. Pinioned and gagged, as I I was, I would have been of no use in the fight. After it was over, I made my ap pearance and gave a statement of all that had transpired. From the trappers I learned that Andy's cry had directed them to the spot; but, poor fellow, they came too late to save him. I thanked God and the mountain eers for my own preservation, and quitted the scene with, a sense of relief mingled with a feeling of sail ness. Gentlemen, that was about the worst situation I was ever placed in, and may you never have a similar experience. aterfiliug for the How to Succeed The young man who thinks Ile can car r his boyish pranks into the serious busi ness of life is not a man and defrauds him self and his employer. "After work, play." That should satisfy the most sanguine.— °•Business before pleasure" is the motto of the prudent man whose guide is experi ence, and it is sufficient for the most novi tiate in active life. . But it is despicable to sec a young man just starting in life, so wedded to his for mer enjoyments es to place them above present duties. Yet this is often theease. The young man, who steers his own bark, launches forth on the sea of life, too often, looks back on the pleasures he leaves be hind, and forgetful of present duties, steers back to past enjoyments. There is no royal road to success any more than to knowledge. He who would succeed must work, and after all there is more real enjoyment in work which has a worthy object than in play or pleasure in tended to kill time. We remarked a few days ago to a business man whose present means are amply sufficient, but who work ed really harder than any of his numerous employees, that he ought to "take it easy." Said he "I am never so happy as when I have more than I can do. 1 may wear out working, but I dread to rust out idling." He was right. His work was a part of himself, a part of his life, and it was al ways faithfully done. To apprentices espe cially, this earnestness and interest in their work is necessary if success is ever to be attained. Some et Eismark's Ma:drns, When pushed to extremes, I prefer my shirt to my coat. A question of right can be settled only with the bayonet in .our European quar rels. Parties and castes are mutable—they perish, and new ones arise. • The Kings of Prussia have never been preeminently the kings of the rich. Whoever makes the most promises is apt to carry the election. All classes r.:o a little smuggling, espe cially the women. A great country cannot be governed by partis.um. _ _ _ . . Put Germany into the saddle and you will find that she knows how to tide. Governments are like women the youngest pleases the most. It is nut possible to hasten the ripening of fruit by holdidg a lamp underneath. Centralization is tyranny, more or lens. Whoever carries the money bag is the people's master. Every country knows that peace and security rests in the sword. Liberty is a luxury which not every one can afford. People are a great deal more lavish whed they pay out of a common treas ury than when they pay out of their own pockets. Clairvoyance—Theroy and Fact of Sec ond Sight. Tar said to be en ?<wort when cr_a &:ie other, independently of any method of communication, as the shadow in the pool reflews surround ing objects. The process is analogous to telegraphy, the brain being the instrument, the consciousness the operator or reader, and it requires, as in that physics-mechan ical art, two instruments, one to originate the impression, the other to receive it. In the cant phrase of the day it is called clairvoyance, while it was known formerly as second sight and by various other names. The subject has reeeived the fillup lately from Mr. Brown's exhibitions of some eu ri-,us rhcr,:nu,a of thought reading. The similar exhibitions of biolegists, mesmer ists and spirit milists are more familiar and are generally explicable under the broad philosophy of humbug. But daily expe rience furnishes an example quite as stri- • king and far more reliable. A casual re mark elicits the surprised rejoinder, "Why, I was just thinking of that I . ' although no previous subject or circumstance has led up to it. Such a -coincidence may, it is true, be purely accidental, the range of ordinary thought, like the vocabulary of ordinary speech, being very limited. But the equation of changes shows flat the concurrence should be infrequent, while, in point of net, it occurs riot once, but many times, in every man's experience. A French philosopher seeks to explain such phenomena by laying down this proposi tion : "i\linds in habitual collision acquire a quality of action by which the censori um receives reciprocal impressions, inde pendent of communication through speech or sign." That the explanation issufficient. I shall now undertake to affirm. I merely cite it as the simplest, and because the simplest the most probable elucidation of the mystery. After the first diffisuly of communica ting without the aid of arbitrary sound or sign is removed, the obstacle of distance appears to be illusory. There is no reason, apparently, why areas of space should af fect the process more thau in telegraphy. The current may pass and repass as getter-. ously, obeying a law of equilibrium in the minds affected. Of this we have many historic examples. Plutarch tells us that in the time of Domitian the report of a battle in Gernmy was published in Rome on the day on which it was fought, Pope Ilonorius performed the funeral obsequies of Philip Augustus of France the very day on which the' King died. Froissart relates how the Count de Foix was aware of the defeat of John of Castile the day on which it took place. "Saturday, the Feast of Our Lady in August, 1385." I take the brief account from the quaint old chronicler: .The whole days of Sun day, Monday and the fbilowing Tuesday he was in his castle of Orthes, and made such poor and melancholy Meals that not one word could be drawn from him; nor would he, during that time, quit his chamber or speak to knight or squire, however nearly related by blood, unless he had sent for him; and it .also happened that he even sentfor some to whom he never opened his lips during these three.days. On Tues day, in the evening, he called his brother Arnold William, and said to him in a low voice, 'Our people have heel a desperate battle ' which has vexed me very.much, for it Ins happened to them just as I fore told at their departure." Arnold liam who was a wise and prudent knight, well acquainted with the temper of his .brother was silent. The Count anxious to cheer up his courage, 11,r he too had nourished in his breast the sad news, ad ded : 'By God, Sir, Arnold ! it is just as 1 have told you, and very as , a we shall have news er it. Never has the country of Beam suffered so severely these hun dred years past as it has now in Portugal Many knights and squires were afraid to speak,but commented within thelbselvcs on them. .“Within ten days the truth was known front those who had been in the battle, and they first told the Count, and all who wished to hear them, everything relative to their disputes with the Castilians, and the event of the battk of Aljnbarota. * 0 *y , 'Holy Mary!' Said I to the squire, 'how was it possible the Count to know, or even guess at it, on the mor row after it happened ?' " A still more striking illustration of the phrenography of one mind on the sensitive electro-plate of another occurs in Hugh Miller's early reminiscences. Ilis father was lost in a storm off Peterhead on the loth of November, 1807. A letter had boan received from him on the 9th, and the evening of the following day, the cottage door being unfastened, Hugh, then a - child of five years, was sent to shut it. "Day," he writes, "had not wholly disappeared, but was fast posting into night. Within less than a yard of my breast, as plainly as ever I saw any thing, was a deserved hand and arm stretched before me. Hand and arm ap parently that of a female; they bore a vivid and sodden appearance; and directly front ing me, where the body ought to have been, there was only blank, transparent space, through which I could see the dint form of the object beyond. I was fearful ly startled." It will be observed that it is not the father's form which appears; but his mind, looking out on the ghastly night and storm, among the whirling elements and tooth-like crags of Cromarty bay and head land, is reflected irethe child's,and brought out more vividly in the chiaroscuro of the twilight. The black storm, hideous night, and bellowing tea, are vague concomitants, but more intense and vivid in the father's mind is the drowning woman's outstretch ed arm and hand, and this image lays its print upon the sensitive brain of the child. I do not think the fact explicable in any other way. To treat Hugh Miller's state ment with scornful incredulity merely sug gests the weakness of the scienti.4. EVERY man's past life should be his critic, his censor, his guide. He who lives, and is done with life the ►noment it drops hour by hour from his hands, is net half a man. He is like a plucked pllnt that stands in water without roots of its own, and can have no growth, and soon fides and passes away. A VAGABOND beggar Jew applied for alms to Dr. 'Raphael, the well-known Jew ish rabbi, and threatened to turn Christian if the doctor would not help hitu. The doctor said to him : "Very well, go. Be come a good Christbin, and I will he sat isfied; for you have been a very bad Jew." Tr= may come for wool and go back, shorn. LOVEis the beginning is most easily cured. A Man Visits the Editor to find "Who Printed that Piece." He came in with an interrogation in one eye, and with a stick in one hand. One eye was cover:El with a handkerchief and one arm was in a sling. Il is bearing 'was that of a luau with a settled purpose in view. "It was to sec," said he, "the man that puts things into this paper." We intilliated that several of us earned a frugal livelihood in that way. "•Well, I want to sec the man which scribe things out of the other papers. The fellow who writes mostly with shears, you understand !" We explained to him that there were seasons r•hen the most g7fte.d among us, driven to frenzy by the scarcity of ideas and events, and by the clamorous demands of an insatiated public in moments of emo tional insanity plunged the glittering shears into our exchanges. He went on, calmly, but in a voice tremulous with sup• pressed feelings, and indistinct through the recent loss of half a dozen or St) of his front teeth. "Juat eo. I presume so. I don't know much about this business, but I want to see that man, the man that printed that little piece about pouring water down a drunken man's spine 'of his back, and making him instantly sober. It you please, I want to talk with him." Thep he leaned his stick against our desk, and spit on his serviceable hand, Lnd resumed his hold (41 the stick as though he was weighing it. After studying the stick a moment, he asked in a somewhat louder tone : "3lister, I came here to see that 'ere an. I want to see him ball." We told him t'•iat dparticalar man was "Ju,:t so. I presumed 6o They told me before I came that the man I wanted to see wouldn't be anywhere I'll wait for hint. I live up north, and have walked seven miles to e9nver,e with that man. I guess I'll sit down and wait." Ile sat down by the door and reflective ly pounded the tiger with his stick, but his fbeliugs would cot albw hint to keep still. "I suppose not one of you didn't ever pour much cold water down any drunken man's back to mike him sober, perhaps." None of us in the office had ever tried the experimsnt. "Just so. I thought just as like as not you had not. Well. Mister, I have. I tried it yesterday, and I have come seven miles on foot to see the man that printed that piece. It wasn't much of a piece, I don't think ; but I want to see the man that printed it, just a few minutes. You see, John Smith, he lives next door to my house, when I'm at home, and he gets bow come you so every little period. Now, when he's sober, he's all right, if you keep out of his way ; but when he's drunk, he goes home and breaks dishes, and tips over the stove, and throws thebardware around, and makes it inco:lvenient for his wife, and sometimes gets his gun and goes out cal -1 hog on his neighbors, and it ain't pleasant. Not that I want CO cay anything about Smith; but the and my with don't think he ought to do so. Ho came home drunk yesterday and broke all•the kitchen win dows out of his house, and fidlowed his wife mound with the carving knife, talk ing about her liver, and after a while he lay down by my fence and went to sleep. I bad bean reading that piece, and I thought if I could pour some cold water down the spine of his back, and make him sober, it would be more comfortable fbr his wife, and a square thing to all around. So I poured a bucket of spring water down his back. "Well," said we, as our visitor paused "did it make him sober?" Our visitor took a firmer hold of his stick and replied with increased emotion-: "Just so. I suppose it did make him sober as a judge in less than you can say Jaek Robinson; but Mister, it made him mad. It made him the maddest man that I ever seen, and Mister, John Smith is a bigger man than me and sterner. Ile is a good deal stouter. Bla—bless him I never knew he was half so stout till yesterday, and he's bandy with his fists, too. I should suppose he 13 the handiest man I ever saw." "Then he went for you, did he ?" we asks i innccently: "Jhst so. Exactly. I suppose he went for me about the best he knew, but I don't hold no grudge against John Smith. I suppose he ain't a good man to bold a .grudge against. I want to see the man who printed that piece. I want to see him bad. I feel as though it would soothe me to see that man. I want to show him how a drunken man acts when you pour water down the spine of his back. That's what I come for." Our visitor who had poured water down the spine of a drunken man's back, ',- maim(' until about 6 p. m., and then went up street to find the man that printed that piece. The man he is looking for started for Alaska last evening. for a summer va cation and will not be back before Septem ber ,1878. An Old-Fashioned Mother! Thank God ! some of us have an old fashioned mother. Not a woman of the period, enameled and painted, with her chignon, her curls and her bustle, whose jeweled bands have never felt the clasp of baby fingers ; but a dear, old-fashioned, sweet-voiced mother, with eyes in which the love-light shone and brown hair thread ed with silver, !yin.' ' smooth upon her check. Those dear hands, worn with toil, gently guiding our tottering steps in child hood, and smoothing our pillows in sick noes, even reaching to us in yearning ten derness when the swat spirit was baptised in the pearly spirit of the river. Blessed is the spirit of an old-fashioned mother. It floats upon us now like the beautiful perfume of some woodland blos soms. The music of other voices may be lost, but the entrancing memory of her's will echo in our souls forever. Other faces may fade away and be forgotten, but her's will shine on until the light from heaven's portals shall glorify our own. When, in the fitful pauses of busy life, our feet wan der hack to the old homestead, and, cross ing the well worn threshold, we stand once more in.the low, quiet room, so hal lowed by her presence, how the feelings of childhood innocence and dependence comes over us, and we kneel down in the molten sunshine, streaming through the western window, just where, long years ago, we knelt by our mother's knee lisping, “Our Father.' How many times, when the tempter lured us on, has the memory of those sacred hours, that mother's words, her fi,ith and prayers, saved us from plung ing into the deep abyss of sin ! Years have filled great drifts between her and us, but they have not bidden from our sight the glory of her pure and unselfish love. NO. 15. A Sanctimonious Pokr:r About two years ago a IcreitslK.:. rim steamboat left Fort Benton with 1,;. , ..:* - rtyof rough and well-to-do minera ea . :eitvd..— There were also among the Fir.as. :agars three or four -brace men," and before-ar riving at Sioux City they had, generally, cleaned out the pockets of the miners.— The boat stopped at Sioux City to wood up, and found, among others waiting to get on board, a ruinisterial•looking person age, with the longest and most solemn countenance on him you can well imagine. Ile was dressed in a suit of black, wore a white stovepipe hat and choker collar, or namented with a black neck-handkerchief. W ea, he got on board, and the boat started down the stream For two days he was unnoticed by the other passengers, but one of the sports at last thought he saw a chance to make some.hiug out ofthe sad and melancholy individual. The lat ter would once or twice a day step up to the bar, and, with a voice that was as mild and gentle as a maiden's, ask for "A glass of soda, if you please," and then he would pull a roll of bills from his pocket and take a quarter from their interior layers. Then he would say to the barkeeper, as if under a thousand obligations, "Thank you, sir," and walk aft again as if about to commit suicide. This thing had gone far enough, and the gambler I have spoken of at last ap proached him. "Would you like a game of seven-up, sir ?'' "Seven•up ? What is seven-up ? Please tell me. my good friend r" "Why, a game of cards, you know, just tt, pass away the time. Letus playa game.' "My good friend. I do not know any thing concerning cards; I cannot play them." "Well, come along, we'll show you how to do it." And the mild gentleman in black, aftersome further protests, at length consented. They showed him how 'twas done, and they played several games. The gentleman in black was delighted. Gamblers want to know if he will play poker, five cents ante, just for the fun of the thing. Gen tleman in black says he can't play the game, but they explain again, and the rker commences. 'the gentleman in black looses every time. There are six men in the game. Eseh one deals before the gen tleman in black, and ante has been raised to s dollar. Gent in black deals awkward • ly and looks at his hand. Next man to dealer bets five—goes around, and bets are raised to one hundred dollars. Gent in black sees it and makes it one hundred better. Gamblers look surprised but will not be bluffed. The bet had reached fire hundred dollars—a thousand. All draw out except a Pike's Peak miner, who sees and calls him : "What have you ?" "Wall," answers the gent in black, "I have—let me see, le.t me see—wall, I have four ones." The gamblers, who had suspicioned some time before, now look wild, and the light begins to dawn in the miner's mind. He leaned across the table and said in the most sarcastic tones he could command: "Oh, you heave, heave yer ? You d—d sanctimonious shuffier." The gent got up from the table and handed one of the gamblers his card. It read "Bill Walker. New Orlerns"—one of the most successful sharpers in the coun try. The Momeni of Peril. A clergyman's son, one Sunday after noon last winter, was amusing himself with his velocipede. He was carelessly, ,dash ing along at full speed, intending to cross ' the railway track, when atrain came thun dering along the road. There was but one course to pursue. He could not stop the impetus of his vehicle; to attempt it would be certain death. So he dashed across within reaching distance of the en gine. The slighest jar of his wheel, a pebble in his way, a little unsteadiness of his own, and hie doom was scaled. Do you suppose any Flllll of money would. in duce him again to run such a risk % A boy was sliding down hilt and in the excitement and enjoyment of the sport, he forgot to watch for danger. His path run over the railroad track, and, as he was al most on it, 'he saw a slowly moving freight train passing along:- To stop was impos sible, and he dashed en, just passing be tween two heavily laden cars. The slow rate of motion was all that saved him. But he will not go down that hill so reck lessly again. It will serve as a warning to other oys also, who witnessed his peril. Whats pity they will not take warning by the greskeimdanges;i the saddest fate, of so many men and boys about them. I see lads every dip in this town stand ing on the steps of the billiard saloon and the tobacconist's shop, who are near to a more fterful doom than either? of these Lads. They arc suffering themselves to be drawn into a mmlstrom from which there will be no retreat. They are preparing for a plunge into the fearful gulf of intem perance, where body and soul will both be swallowed up. Look over into this gulf. Listen to the fearful cries that come up, and can you, dare you; risk the plunge? The moment of deepest perilfor you is Ithe one when you take your first glass,—Tem perance Banner. What must I do to be—Lost. "What must Ido to be lost?" "Ne glect so great a salvation." It is not ne cessary to do anything. We are lost al ready. Jesus offers to save us; but if we reject his offers, we remain es we were.— ' "How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation ?" Escape is impossible if we neglect the only means of safety. If a deadly serpent bites you, and you refuse the only remedy, you die. If you are drowning and will not seize the life-buoy thrown to you, you sink. Neglect is ruin. Jesus alone can save the soul! Neither is there sarvatiou in any other. 0 sinner, your damnation is sure if you neglect Jesus. If he that despised Moses' law died without mercy, how much surer pun ishment shall he be thought worthy who had trodden ender foot the Son of God. Dust thou think that God will not execute his threatenings, that thou canst escape his piercing eye, or that the rocks will cover thee ? Vain hopes! There is no escape but to come to Jesus, and simple neglect is certain perdition ! Because I called, but ye refused, * * then shall they call, but I will not answer; they shall seek me, but shall not find me !"- 0 sinner, escape this awful threatening ! Jesus now stands with open arms. He entreats you to be saved ! Come with all your sins and sorrows—come just as you are—come at once ! He will in no wise c •st you out. Come to Jesus.—Newman Hall.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers