VOL. 41. The Huntingdon Journal J. R. DURBORROW, PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS, Ogee in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every Friday by J. R. Dusdiositow and J. A. NASH, under the firm name of J. R. DUEBORROW & Co., at 82,00 per annum IN ADVANCE, or $2.50 if not paid for in ail months from date of subscription, and 83 if not paid within the year. No paper discontinued, unless at the option of the pub lisher., until all arrearages are paid. No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless absolutely paid fur in advance. Transient advertisements will be inserted at TWELVE AND A-HALT CENTS per line for the first insertion, SEVEN AND A-HALT CENTS fur the second and FIVE CENTS per line fur all subsequent insertions. Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements will be inserted at the following rates : 1 1 13m 16m 19m 11 yr l3m 6m 19m11yr - lin X 3 ;3 50 450 550 800 l%coll 900 18 001527 $36 ~- 5 0t) 8 00110 00 12 00 %col 18 00 36 00 50 65 70010001400 18 00 %c 01,34 00 50 00 1 65 80 8 00;14 00120 00 18 00 1 roll 36 00 60 001 80 100 '3 4 " - • • • All Resolutions of Associations, Communications of limited or individual interest, all party announcements, and notices of Marriages and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will he charged ITN 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. All advertising accounts are due and collectable when the adrertisewnt is once inserted. JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch. Hand-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, kc., of every variety and style, printed nt the shortest notice. and everything in the Printing line will be executed in the most artistic manner and at the lowest rates, Professional Cards• T CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street. U. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & Wil liamson. [apl2,'7l DR. A. It. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Personage. Ijan4,ll C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's E building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E. J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. tapl2B, '76. GEO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [n0v17,'75 E. L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building, No. 520, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l yr W. BUCHANAN, Surgeon Dentist, No. 228, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [mchl7,'7s TI C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn 11. Stree, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l y FRANKLIN SMOCK, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting t/ don, Pa. Prompt attention given to all legal busi ness. Office, 229 Penn Street, corner of Court House Square. [dec4,72 T SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, . Pa. office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd Street. pau4,'7l T W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim of . Agent. Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims agai last the Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of fice on Penn Street. Ljam4,'7l TR. DURBORROW, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., . will practice in the several Courts of Huntingdon aunty. Particular attention given to the settlement of estates of decedents. Office in the JOURNAL building. IS. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, J. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. Z3O Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [febs;7l T)A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law. Patents Obtained. it. Office, 341 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [mySl,'7l CI E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., L) ' office in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt and careful Retention given to all legal business. [angs,74-6mo• A IT ILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting don, Pa. Special attention given to collections,. and all other legal business attended to with care and promptness. Office, No. 229, Penn Street. [ap19,71 Miscellaneous HEALTH AND ITS PLEASURES, - OR - DISEASE AND ITS AGONIES: CHOOSE BETWEEN THEM. lIOLLOWAY'S PILLS. NERVOUS DISORDERS. What is more tearful than a breaking down of the ner vous system? To be excitable or nervous in a small de gree is most &stressing, for where can a remedy be found? There is one:—drink but little wine, beer, cr spirits, or Etr better, none; take no coffea,—weak tea being prefera ble ; get all the fresh air you can ; take three or four Pills every night : eat plenty of solidi, avoiding the use of slops; and if theee gulden rules are followed, you will be happy in mind and strong in body, and forget you have auy n erves. MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS. If there is one thing more than another for which these Pills are so famous, it is their purifying properties, es pecially their power of clensing the blood from all im purities, and removing dangerous and suspended secre tions. Universally adopted as the one grand remedy for female complaints, they never fail, never weaken the system, and always brings about what is required. SICK HEADACHES AND WANT OF APPETITE. These feelings which so sadden us, most frequently arise from annoyances or trouble, from obstructed prespi ration, or from eating and drinking what is unfit for us, this disordering the liver and stomach. Those organs must be regulated if you wish to be well. The Pills, if taken according to the printed instructions, will quickly restore a healthy action to both ther and stomach, whence follow, as a natural conseqence, a good appetite and a clear head. In the East and West Indies scarcely any other medicine is ever used fur these disorders. HOW TO BE STRONG. Never let the bowels be confined or unduly acted upon. It may appear singular that Holloway's Pills should be recommended fore run rpon the bowels, many persons supposing that they would increase relaxation. This in a great mistake, however; for these Pills will immediately correct the liver and atop every kind of bowel complaint. In warm climates thousands of liven have been saved by the use of this medicine, which in all cases gives tone and vigor to the whole organic system, however deranged,— health and strength following as a matter ofcourse. The appetite, too, is wonderfully increased by the use of these Pills, combined in the use of solid in preference to fluid diet. Animal food is better than broths and stews. By removing acrid, fermented, or other impure humors from the liver, stomach, or blood, the cause of dysentery, diar rhoea, and other bowel complaints is expelled. Thu result is, that the disturbance is arrested, and the action of tne bowels baronies regular. Nothing will stop the relaxa tion of the bowels so quickly as this fine correcting med icine. DISORDERS OF THE KIDNEYS In all diseases affecting these organ., whether they secrete too much or too little water; or whether they be attlict.d with stone or gravel, or with ached and pains settled in the loins over the regions of the kidneys, these Pills shonld be taken according to the printed directions, and the Ointment, should be well rubbed into the small of the back at bedtime. This treatment will give almost im mediate relief when all other means have failed. FOR STOMACHS OUT OF ORDER. No medicine will so effectually improve the tone of the stomach as these pills; they remove all acidity, occasioned either by intemperance or improper diet. They reach the liver and reduce it to a healthy action ; they are won• derfully efficacious in cases of spasm—in fact they never fail in curing all disorders of the liner and stomach. (Fevers of all kinds, Fits, Gout, headache, Indigestion, Inflammation, Jaundice, Liver Complaints, Lumbago, Ague. Asthma, Biliu Complaints; Blotches on the' Skin, Bowel Complaints, Colics, Constipation of the Bowels, Consumption, Piles, Rheumatism, • Debility, Dropsy, Retention of Urine, Scrofula, or King's Evil, DyeimiCry, Eryripelas, Female Irregu larities, CAPTION!—None are genuine unleei the signature of J. Ilaydock, as agent for the United States,surronnds each box of Pills and Ointment. A handsome reward will be given to any one rendering such information as may lead to the detection of any party or parties counterfeiting the medicines or vending the same, knowing them to be spurious. ...Sold at the Manufactory of Professor HOLLOWAY k CO., New York, and by all respectable Druggists and Dealers In Medicine throughout the civilized world, in boxes at 25 cents, 62 cents, and $1 eurh. Ir-sr There is considerable saving by taking the larger sizes. N. B.—Directions for the guidance of patient/ in every disorder are affixed to each box. apr. 28, 1878-oow•-ly. THE JOURNAL STORE Is the place to buy all kinds of osoli 00 . AT HARD PAN PRICES! J. R. DURBORROW, - - - J. A. NASH. The Huntingdon Journal, J. A. NASH EVERY .FRIDAY MORNING, THE NEW JOURNAL BUILDING, No. 212, FIFTH STREET, HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA. $2.00 per annum, in advance; $2.50 ............... within six months, and 83.00 if not paid within the year. 00000000 00000000 SUBSCRIBE. 00000000 gfigggfi TO ADVERTISERS Circulation 1800. ADVERTISING MEDIUM The JOURNAL is one of the best printed papers in the Juniata Valley, and is read by the best citizens in the coon ty. homes weekly, and is read by - at least 5000 persons, thus making it the BFST advertising a medium in Central Pennayl- vania. Those who patronize its columns are sire of getting a rich return for their investment. Advertisements, both local and foreign, solicited, and inserted at reasonable rates. Give us an order, ugugg JOB DEPARTMENT er• CP CD Pore Throats, Stone and Gnlval, Secondary Symp toms, Tic-Doalourenx, Tumor,, Veneral Affections Worms of all kind. 'Weakness from any cause, &c. COLO sir All business letters should be ad. dressed to J. R. DURBORROW & CO., Huntingdon, Pa. . . j 4 i •- t•/,..:, . • --, r.. :i i; :••• . , „.. ~ ...., co . • is ; •:, , . .:.*.... •., • i.. 7. . • a h e ~.. ..;,, .. ,;... ... • ;,,.. 1,4 %lc . 4 , :,...' • Printing. PUBLISHED -I N TERMS : 0 0 0 0 000 0 0 0 00000000 PROGRESSIVZ REPUBLICAN PAPER, 0 0 0 0 0 0 o o FIRST-CLASS 5000 READERS WEEKLY, It finds • its way into 1800 - E , 0 4.4 a C) 0 I .-s I e. '.i H. pr CD e-. ra2 F. .1 CD ta. 0 PM: 'G A SP: :ALTY. - fflusts' (*him Only a Tramp. •`Only a tramp ?" said the "star" as lad found, At dim early dawn, a man lying dead, Hie face pinched and wan, eyes set with a stare, "Died of starvation," the coroner said. Somebody's darling, and somebody's son; Somebody rocked him, a baby, to sleep : Childhood and manhood forever are done; Now there is no one who careth to weep. Once he was young and ambitious, perchance; Sought, like the rest, for both riches and place; Perchance might the world have honored his name; Now there is no one who knoweth his face. But what eareth Dives, pausing to gaze— "A wretched dead vagrant under the lamp." Honors are his, wealth and fame are secure Besides, that dead body's—only a tramp. Somewhere there may be a woman who waits; She once was a bride—now wretched, alone. Somewhere are children, too old for their years ; "We're cold and we're hungry," runueth their moan. Is it their fault if their young foreheads wear Blighting of hunger and poverty's stamp? White were their souls as your darlings can be; Are they to blame if their father's a tramp? Perchance to your door last evening ho came, Asited for a crumb, and to warm him, a breath; Coldly you shut all the comfort within— Without there was naught but hunger and death. And so laid him down ; the chill, creeping on, Stiffened his limbo, in his hair left a damp. Life's warfare is done, all chances are gone, Whether used or abused—only a tramp. No mourners for him—nor children nor wife; On lips pale and cold no kisses are pressed; A pine coffin only, no flower nor wreath Tells of our love as we lay him to rest. Lay him down softly, and make him a bed In earth's kindly bosom, under the sod ; Life's been a failure, and we can but trust His body to earth—his soul unto God. Meanwhile, I bethink me, if Jesus was here, To wander, as oft, in Galilee old, No root' for his head, though foxes have holes, Who sometimes was hungry„sometimes was cold— Should come to our door and ask for his bread, Foot-sore and shabby, with poverty's stamp, Would we bid welcome to warmth and to cheer, Or, shutting the door, say, "Only a tramp !" ( 7 )e oitaq-Etiltr. THE SOLDIER'S SON. BY THE CAPTAIN Many, many years ago, at the close of a sultry summer's day, a man of middle age was slowly toiling up a hill in the en virons of the pleasant village of Aumont, a small town in the south of France. The wayfarer was clad in the habiliments of a private of infantry of the line ; that is to say, he wore a long skirted, blue coat, faced with red, much soiled and stained ; kerseymeyer breeches that were once white, met at the knee by tattered gaiters of black cloth, an old battered chapeau, and a haversack, which he carried slung over his right shoulder, on a sheathed sabre.— From time to time, he paused and wiped the heavy drops of perspiration that gath ered constantly upon his forehead. "Courage, Francois, courage," said the soldier to himself; "a few paces more and you will reach home. Ali, this is suffi ciently fatiguing, but nothing to the sands of Egypt. May heaven preserve my eye sight long enough to see my home—my wife—my brave boy, Victor, once more ! Grant me but that, kind Heaven, and I think I will repine at nothing that may happen farther." It will be seen from the above that Francois Bertrand belonged to the army Which had recently covered itself with glory in the Egyptian campaign, under the command of General Bonaparte, a name already famous in military annals. He had fought like a hero in the battle of the Pyramids, when the squares of French in fantry repulsed the brilliant cavalry of Murad Bay, and destroyed the flower of the Mamelukes by the deadly fire of their musketry. Wounded in that memorable battle, he was afterwards attacked by the opthalmia of the country; but his eyesight though impaired, was not yet utterly de. stroyed. Honorably discharged, he bad just arrived at Marseilles, from Egypt, and was now on his way home, eager to be folded in the arms of his beloved wife and his young son. So the soldier toiled bravely up the hill, for he knew that the white walls of his cottage and the foilage of his little vineyard would be visible iu the valley commanded by the summit. At length he reached the brow of the hill, and gazed eagerly in the direction of his humble home; but 0, agony, it was gone ! In its place a heap of blackened ruins lay smouldering in the sunlight that seemed to mock its desolation. Fatigue —weakness—were instantly forgotten, and the soldier rushed down the brow of the hill to the scene of the disaster. At the gate of his vineyard he was met by little Victor, a boy of teo. • "A soldier !" cried the boy, who did not recognize his father. "0, sir, you come it bacfrom the wars; don't you? Perhaps you can tell me something about my pour papa ?" "Victor, my boy, my dear boy!! don't you know me ?" cried the poor soldier; and he strained his son.convulsively in his arms. "0,1 know you now, my dear, dear papa," said the boy Sobbing. "I knew you by the voice—but ho* changed you are ! Why, your •mustaches are turned gray." "Victor, Victor, where is your mother?" gasped the soldier "Poor mamma," said the boy. "Speak—l charge you, boy." She is dead." "Dead !" Francois fell to the ground as if a bullet had passed through his brain. When he recovered his senses, he saw Victor kneeling beside him and bathing his head with cold water, which he had brought in his bat from a neighboring spring. In a few words, the child told him their cottage had takenl fire in the night, and been burned to the ground and his mother had perished in the flames. A kind cottager soon made his appear ance, and conducted the unfortunate fat'ner and son to his humble cabin. Here they passed the night and one or two days fol lowing. During that time Francois Bet rand neither ate nor slept, but wept over his misfortune with an agony that refused all consolation. On the third day only he regained his composure ; but it was only to be conscious of a new and overwhelming misfortune. His eyesight was gone. The agony of mind he had suffered, and the tears be had shed, bad completed the ravages of his disorder. "Where are you, Victor ?" said the soldier. co •t:3 ' o i"4, 4;1 O -------- "Here, by your side . , father ; don't you see me ?" "Alas ! no, my boy. I can see nothing. Give me your little band. Your poor father is blind." The agonizing sobs of the boy told how keenly he appreciated his father's mis fortune. "Dry your eyes, Victor," said the soldier. "Remember the instructions of your poor mother, how she taught you to submit HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY, APRIL 6, 1877. with resignation to all the sufferings that Providence sees fit to inflict upon us in this world of sorrow. Henceforth you must see for both of us; you will be my eyes, my boy." - "Yes, father; and I will work for and support you." ''You are too young and delicate, Victor. We must beg our bread." "Beg, father ?" "Yes, you shall guide my footsteps.— There are good people in the world who will pity my infirmities and your youth. When they see my ragged uniform, they will say, 'There is one of the braves who upheld the honor of France upon the burning sands of Egypt," and they will not fail to drop a few sous into the old soldier's hat. Come, Victor, we must march. We have been too long a burden on our poor neighbor. Courage, mon en fant, le bon temps viendra." And so the boy and his father set forth upon their wandering. Neither asked alms; but when seated by the roadside, under the shadow of an overhanging tree, the passers-by would halt, and bestow a small sum upon the worn and blind soldier. Victor was devoted to his filial affection. Though denied the society and sports so dear to his youth, he was always cheerful and happy in the accomplishment of his task. Often did his innocent gayety be guile his father into a temporary forget fulness of his sufferings. Then he would place his hand upon the boy's head, and stroking his soft curling locks, smile sweetly es his sightless eyes were turned toward him, and commence some stirring narrative of military adventure. In this way days, weeks, months, and even years rolled by. They were every where well received and kindly treated ; and all their physical wants were supplied. But the old soldier often sighed to think of the burden his misfortunes imposed upon his boy, and of his wearing out his young life without congenial companion ship, without instruction, without a future beyond the life of a mendicant. He often prayed in secret that death might liberate his little guide from his voluntary service. One day Francois was seated alone on a stone by the roadside, Victor having gone to the neighboring village on an errand, when he suddenly heard a carriage stop beside him. The occupant, a man of mid dle age, alighted and approached the soldier. Your name," said the stranger, "is, 1 .hink, - Franeots Bertrand." "The name." "A soldier in the army of Egypt ?" "Yes." _ - "And the pretty boy that guides you is your son ?" "He is—Heaven bless him !" "Amen ! But has it never occurred to you, my friend, that you are doing him great injustice in keeping him by you at an age when he ought to be getting an education to enable him to push his way in the world ?" "Alas, sir, I have often thought of it. But what could supply his place ? and then, who would befriend and educate him ?" "Hi? place might be supplied by a dog —and as fbr his protector, I, myself, who have no son, should be glad to adopt and educate him." His son's place supplied by a dog : The thought was agony. And to part with Victor I The idea was as cruel as death itself. The old soldier was silent. "You are silent, my friend Has my offer offended you ?" "No sir—no. But you will pardon a father's feelings." "I respect them—and I do not : wish to hurry you. Take a day to think of my proposition, and to inform yourself re specting my character and position. I am a merchant. My name is Eugene Marmont, and I '-elide at No. 17 Rue St. Ilonore, Paris. I will meet you at this spot to morrow at the same hour, and then expect an answer. Au Revoir." He placed a golden Louis in the band of the soldier and departed. A little reflection convinced Bertrand that it was his duty to accept the mer chant's offer. But cruel as the task of reconciling himself to parting with his son, that of inducing Victor to acquiesce in the arrangement was yet more difficult. It re quired the exercise of authority to sever the ties that bound the son to the father. But it was done—Victor resigned his task to a little dog that was procured by the merchant, and after an agonizing farewell was whirled away in Marmont's carriage. Years passed on. Victor outstripped all his companions at school, and stood at the head of the military academy; for he was striving to win a name and fortune for his father. The good Marmont. from time to time endeavored to obtain tidings of the soldier; but the latter had purposely changed his route, and, satisfied that his son was in good hands, felt a sort of pride in not in truding his poverty and misfortunes on the notice of Victor's new companions. The boy, himself, was much distressed at not seeing or hearing from his father; but he kept struggling on, saying to himself. Courage Victor—te ton temps viendra— the good time will come. On the death of Marmont, he entered the army as sub-lieutenant, and fought his way to a captaincy under the eye of the Emperor. At the close of a brilliant cam paign he was invited to pass a few weekr; at the chateau of a general officer named Duvivier, a few leagues from Paris. The company there was brilliant, composed of all that was most beautiful, talented and distinguished in the circle in which the general moved. But the "star of the com pany" was Julia Duvivier, the youthful and accomplished daughter of the general. Many distinguished suitors contended for the honor of her hand ; but the moment Victor appeared, they felt they had a for midable rival. The belle of the chatean could not help showing her decided pre ference for him, though. with a modesty and delicacy natural to his position, he re trained from making any decided advan ces. One night, however, transported beyond biniQelf he betrayed the secret of his heart to Julia, as he ltd her to a seat after an intoxicating waltz. The reception of his almost involuntary avowal was such as to convince him that his affection was return ed. But he felt that be had done wrong, and a high sense of honor induced the young soldier immediately to seek the gen eral, and make him a party to his wishes. He found him alone in the embrasure of a window that opened on the garden of the chateau. "General," said he, with a military frank ness, "I love your daughter." The general started, and cast a glance of displeasure on the young man. "I know you quite slightly, Captain Bertrand," he answered, "but you are aware that the man that marries my daugh ter must be able to give her a true I lei- don in society. Show me the proofs of your nobility and wealth, and I will entertain your proposition. _ _ "Alas !" answered the young soldier in a faltering voice, "I feel that I have erred —pity me—forgive me—l was led astray by a passion too strong to be controlled. I have no name—and my fortune is my sword. The general bowed coldly, and the young soldier passed out into the garden. It was a brilliant moonlight evening. Every ob ject was defined as clearly as ifilluminated by the sun's rays. Removing his chapeau, that the night air might cool his fevered brow, he was about to take his favorite seat beside the fountain where he had passed many hours in weaving bright vis ions of the future, when he perceived that it was already occupied. An old man in a failed military uniform sat there, with a little dog lying at his feet. One glance was sufficient—the next instant Victor folded hia father in his arms. "Father !" "My boy !" The words were interrupted by convulsive sobs. After the first passionate greeting was over, the old man passed his hand over his son's dress, and a smile of joy revealed by the bright moonbeams. "A soldier ! I thought I heard the clat ter of your sabre," said the old man. "Where did you get these epaulets ?" "At Austerlitz, father—they were given we by the Emperor." "Long live the Emperor !" said the old man. "He never forgets his chil dren." "No father. Fur when he gave me my commission, he said, thoughtfully, Bert rand, your name is familiar.' Yes sir— my father served under the tri-color.' I remember—he was one of my old Egyp tians.' And then—father—then he gave me the cross of the legion—and told me, when I found you, to affix it to your breast in his name." "It is almost too much !" sighed the old soldier, as the young officer produced the cross and attached it to his father's breast. • "And now," said the young man, "give me your hand as of old, dear father, and let me lead you." "Whither?" "Into the saloon of the chateau, to pre sent . you to General Durivier and his guests." "What ! in my rags ! before all that grand company?" "Why not, father ? The ragged uni form of a brave soldier who beats the cross of honor on his breas . t is the proudest dec• oration in the world. Come, father." Leading his blind father, young Bert rand re entered the saloon he had so lately left, and went directly to the general, who was standing-surrounded by his glittering staff. "General," said he, "here is my title of nobility—my father is all the wealth I possess in the world." Tears started to the General's eyes, and he shook the soldier warmly by the hand. Then beckoning to Julia, he led her to Victor, and placed her trembling hand in his "Let this dear girl," said he "make amends fa my coldness a moment since. A son so noble hearted is worthy of all happiness." In a word, Captain, afterwards Colonel Bertrand, married the General's daughter, and the happiness of their fireside was completed by the constant presence of the good old soldier, to whose self-denial Vie tor owed his honors and domestic bliss. *titct The American Baby. Save your pity for the unhappy little traveller, American born and white, who is abandoned to the tender mercies of nurses. He will be dressed too tightly per haps, drugged with soothing syrup (or worse), slapped if he cries, and left alone in the dark. He will ride in his carriage with the sun in his eyes, if it is sunny, and with arms and hands uncovered and half frozen if it is cold. Flies will be al lowed to tickle his fat little nose, and pins to stick in his tender little back. The strings of his absurd lace cap will choke him till he is black in the face; and he will nearly break his neck falling over the arm of Bridget when she wants to gossip with an old crony. His troublesome clothes will be twitched down and jerked around; and he will be laid down, sat up, turned over, and arranged any way most convenient to her. Above all, if he dares to open his mouth to complain of any of these tortures, his delicate little body will be trotted on her hard knees till it will be nothing short of a miracle if his precious little life is not worried out him. The calm Oriental baby in his tray or basket; the Chines 3 baby in his cage ; the baby of Burmah, naked or wrapped in silks, smoking at two and married at ten; the baby of the "cradle" and the Found ling Asylum at Paris; the Lima in its hammock, and the stolid Indian papoose on its boards—each and every one is hap pier and better off than our poor little mother-abandoned American baby left to ignorant and careless nurses. The "mother baby"—the happy little traveler who is not left to the mercies of a nune, whose throne is his mother's arms, whose pillow is soft, and whose needs are wisely met—he is the happiest of all. Fair, fat and hearty, the sorrows of babyhood come not noar him. lle truly is the one "born with a silver spoon in his mouth."— St. Nicholas Under the Microscope, From the Advance.] There is nothing more wonderful than the revelations of a microscope. Any one who owns a good one and knows how to use it to the best advantage has an upend inn source of entertainment. Some one has noted down these among the other re markable things that it reveals : "Insects of various kinds can be seen in the cavities of a grain of sand. Mould is a forest of beautiful trees, with the branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit. But terflies are full feathered. Hairs are hol low tubes. The surface of our bodies is covered with scales , like fish ; a single grain of sand woald cover one hundred and fifty of these scales, and yet a single scale eovers five hundred pores. Through these narrow openings the sweat fbrees itself out like water through a sieve. The mites make five hundred steps a second. Each drop of stagnant water contains a world of animated beings, swimming with as much liberty as whales in the sea.— Each leaf has a colony of insects grazing on it, like oxen on a meadow. A speck of potato rot, the size of a pin head, con tains about two hundred ferocious little animals, biting and clawing each other savagely." Pre-Historio America. EXTRAORDINARY ARCILrEOLOOICAL 1,13 COVERT IN NI tssoual—WO?iDlßS OF TILE LOWLANDS OF TILE MISSIRSIPPL Correspondence of the New York World.] AUSTIN, Texas March 11.—In Stoddard county, Mo , stvange archmolngicel dis coveries have been made, and unique relics of a forgotten race exhumed. I have written to the World already of inscrip tions on a tablet of stone inserted in the inner wall of a ruined temple i i Guiana juato. The writing is in the same char acters, if my memory be not grievously at fault, as those used by the sun worshippers of the old temple of stone in Western Mexico. The tablet exhumed in Stoddard county is of glazed terra elute, and is al most afi perfeet as when deposited in the mound from which it was taken a few days ago. It is lOf inches wide and 13 inches long, and covered with characters clearly cut, bearing a suggestive resemblance to Sanserit letters. On both sides of the tablet appear these unique hieroglyphics. The tracing was evidently executed when the clay was yet soft and thin ; it was dried, hardened and glazed. The whole appeer ance of this undeciphered leaf from the Continent's remotest history has miny characteristics of the library tablets of the Assyrian King Aesur-bani pal recently dug from the mounds of Ninevah, and when I remember how near the likeness is to the inscriptions in the old Mexican temple, I am persuaded that some explorer will yet have photographs made of all these draw ings and of that discovered on a stone n far from Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and, cont. paring the strange records of the unknown races, ascertain their origin and determine. perhaps, the vexed question or unity. The characters on this Missouri tablet. are placed in regular lines or rows and are clear and distinct in outline. A key to j ! solve the mysteries involved in these two "pages" of pre historic lore would be an "open sesame" to the profoundest mystery that affects the fortunes of the human race Is there no Champellion to make stnues eloquent, dead centuries loquacious, and to invest mummies with habiliments of ancient life ? Were the Mound-builders of the valley of the Mississippi of the same race with those who reared temples at Chicken and Copan and Otolum and Pal enque ? Were the bearded Natchez In dians the descendants, as is claimed, of this race, whttee power was cotemperaneeus with the two oceans and extend. as their raconteurs told the fdlowers of Bienville and of La Salle, even to Africa? They said that when the continent was convulsed as never before or since, their broideet. richest domain east of Florida and South America was submerged and the West was upheaved. The French forefathers of the writer of this said further that the Natchez Indians were never beaten till their priests were made drunk and sacred fires that burned perennially on the great mound below Natchez were suffered to become ex tinct. When this cataclysm befell the hapless race no further serious resistance w a s encountered by the French invaders. The Natchez were destroyed or dispersed. and this was the end of the latest and very remote descendants of the Mound builders that left traces of their toil everywhere, from the great lakes to tile Gulf', in the valley of the Mississippi. Whether the writer of the strange glyphs (en the Stod dard county stone was of the Colhaus or Toltecs or a wanderer from the Orient, a voyager svith Ilanno or some Phnenician who passed beyond the Pillars of Hercules to return no more—these arc inquiries to be solved by him who translates the story inscribed on this tablet and on that in the old temple of Guanajuato. If Congress should appoint a commission to survey the lowlands of the Mississippi not on.y with reference to the possibility of controlling its floods, much might be done in the way of exploring the hidden mysteries of the swamps once the seat of this unique and ancient civilization. The Stoddard c mnty tablet has been forwarded to the learned Orientalist of Harvard University. Though the similarity between the characters em ployed by the Meund-builders and the Sanscrit "letters" is striking, it is perhaps only fanciful, acrd a careful analysis of the structural forms of these glyphs way re veal no likeness whatever to any alphabetic language. In fact. the inscription may be wholly idiographic and the language employed by the writer may not have been developed into lexicographic unity. If this be true speculative archm,logiste tipsy again infer that this was the oldest of in. habited continents and the suit of the earliest civilization of our race. Truth. There is an innate principle in the hu man heart which causes men to love truth and regard it as something particularly valuable, beautiful and majestic. The im ages of a lively fancy of the fairy tiirms of the ideal world may delight for a moment the restless mind ; but truth alone can im part a spirit which partakes of its own ail:- nity, simplicity and eternity. Those who are charmed with finely wrought tales of imaginary joys and woes, and are wont to feed the immortal intellect with —airy nothings," feel too painfully the insuffici ency of fiction to supply the deep neces sities of the soul ; and though each seldom become the lovers and defenders of truth. they are accustomed to regard it as a treas ure which possesses the power of impart ing a lasting satisfaction to its possessor. So spontaneously does the love of truth spring up in the human heart, that no sys tem of error, however studied and spacious, would meet the approbation of mankind. did it:not assume the garb of reality. and present itself to the inquiring mind as the object of its search. Truth, then, may be regarded as hay ing an original abode in the human soul; and doubtless that man who stood on the earth, and bed sweet converse with cher ubim and seraphim," saw it in full perf'c tion and loveliness. But when the pollu ting and destroying influence of sin intro duced disorder and confusion into the bar monious universe, and marred the beauti ful symmetiry of man's moral constitution, prejudice in part gained the ascendancy over the principle, and obtained a seat in the heart , there to defend error and eoun tera 4, eit truth. To CLEAN GOLD CRAINS.-Put the chain into a small glass bottle, with warm water or eau cologne, a little camphor aced chalk (tooth powder). and scrape in some soap. Cork the bottle, and shake it for a minute violently. The friction against the glass polishes the gold,and the soap and chalk extract every particle of grease and dirt from the interstices of a chain of the most intricate pattern. On taking it out of the bottle rinse it in clear cold water, wipe it with a towel, and when all the damp has been allowed to evaporate, the polish will be brilliant. Sum is Fh.ss. HOW THE. EARTH MAT it DILOTIOTED AND RHENIUM ors *Amy uu. The catastrophe in the stellar system— the conflagration of a gar—whielli 'wooed so much commotion in astronomical girds a few months aro. is made the usbjeet or an article in 8./jenrus (Marelt'y by Rieh ard A. Proctor. He says that this catas trophe happened probably a bemired years ago; the ruessen;rer which brought the news to oA, though traveling at a rate vie ficient to circle the earth eight times is the course of a second. had traversed mil lions upon millions .3t * miles before reach ing us last November. If a similar acci dent happened to our sun the creatures -is that side of the earth turned towards him would be destroyed in an instant. and the rest very quickly afterwards. The heav ens woul I tie dissolved, and the elements would melt with fervent hent The yes tion is asked whether the earth is in this danger, and whether warning wosid be given of the cominzdestrurtlor.. The an swer nity be ~ 7ather...l from the facts men tioned in the arti.de. There have been other soar conflagrations before that which was made known last fell. The ti-•t nn record—observed by II ipparchas—oecnr- red 2,000 years ag , :. It 'Was e'en Manner in full daylight, showing emit it was apse; times brighter than Sirius. the blazing dint star. It was called a new star breams, it had ever be.'n invisible until its costars tion male its light temporarily vontsie The next new star or stellar erintra tion) appeared in the region of the heav ens between Cepheus and Caosiopena three times. A. D. 'JIS. 12r4. 1571 and is ex pected to be seen on fire again ber•rolooe The star remained burning at its last ap pearance fir sixteen months. It appeared larger than Jupiter and brighter tiros *t ins. It did not attain this lustre grad,- ally, but shone forth at once in its fall vise and brightness as int had been of instant creation. In 1.7.47, Fabrieisa observed a new star in the neck of the - 'Whale - ems stellation. and in September. 1604. s new 0n...! was discovered is Ophiuchus. is IC* a new star appeared is .be constellation, Cygnus, remaining visible for sesey two years In another was seen. whet* has continue , ' in existence since its appar ent creation. Ily the aid of the ',claire troseope—an instrument vaastosisg the telescope and the spectroscope—it was found that the increase in the war's light rendering the star visible wai the ahnorm II heat of the hyilri.zets sarrnsnd ing that remote sun. Rat it eneld Dull be so easily decided whether this hydrogen was aglow with the heat of .tbe star or wheth.-r absolute eousbustiors was is pro cess. In other words. was it a red-hot piece of iroc like a red hot enal' Them star cool ignitions. it is believed, are eyes ed by other heavenly bodies—meteoric flights travelling on ee.entrie paths. es those in attendance of the cossets. The meteors attendant on a enaset eontinse tw follow in its pith years after the comes has disappeared. fhe tail of the cosset of Is-13 tna...t actually have arise,' rosr sea. Newton's comet nearly approached ;t At any time iVN might be visited by a m i ume s mii , htier than either. travelling se or bit interseeting.thp son's surface. fdlowed by flights of seeteiiric masses Psoriasis+ is size an,l nnny iu number, whieh. falfirrz upon the !Inn. w ,ohl excite bi* wh.4e frame to a degree of hPas fir eveeediw% what b•P now ensiti We hive etigiewee of the tre mencloils heat to which the slia's .iirf o op "Focal be exeiteni in such a ewer. In 1439 two meteririf7 nv0i,47.4 MM. jnt. , mrsatart with the Ann. The downfall of these two bodies only affeeted the whol.. frame oldie earth at th t very time when the *ln had been thns .I:Atiarbed Vivid visors. were seen where they had never been seen before, a.teresipanied by eleetro nrignette diAturbances all over the world. in os egy places the telegraph straek work. the wiz. nal men reeeived severe eks. and at Floston a flame of fir- f0110w...1 t h e pen of Hain's electric telegraph. which writes the moeksages upon ehemieally premed paQ the effect of two nieteors. effect of a evmef, beartng in it. fight mory millions of metettrie misses rating ere the Ann—should that take place—eon be underst , o4l • )eir son 4.en frogs mew re mote afar whence ordinarily be is Orveeible would shine out as a new son for a few days. while all things 'ivies' on "car earth and whatever orb-tit members of the ent e r system are the abode of life wenel.i merit ably be destroyed. ifs enclose tame font of that part o? the eonetellation Twat~, attiring in one+ a time an to toil epos the sun in May or Jane. the light of the Imo would act as a veil, and we And o ' h e is stantly destroyed withoot knew* se} thing abort it. If it fell in Ifeeember se December we should see is for ogee, and astronomers world be able to tell so w b e . it wield fall capon the son. The 'haw banre upon the con !meld be teteppeary. bat tEere would be no etivienty of lift left to record the effects The .-baseet srs largely against such an serif - Lest. 9w' ease is one among million... any one of which would bee , me visible to the eye leder such An accident. yet daring the lea 2.800 years less than twenty such eataatewpitcs have b.-en recorded. Mr Procter s e re. over reassures or in another way. He says in effect that all but one of diem enin g EzT2fions have appeared in the wage of the Milky War. and that one in a regime connected with the Milky Way br s well. marked c:ream of Afars; that the MM. of development is still going en in time region. bet that if there b• ornoog time comets travelling in regular atten.iwnew upon the sun one whose orbit intersects the scan's globe it nowt have Arndt bef.re the era of man. and this in mat solar 'ye tem we may fairly believe that all enilliets of the destruetive sort have bees Amiss led, and that for many MP+ still to envoi the son will eontinoe to diecharge his ties as fire, light and life of the solar eye tem. Neatness. It speats weil for a boy when be hems to study the ent of his cs4lar and the ar rangement of his neck tie ; whea the part' lag of his hair and the 01441/ of hie iwous nails become matters of vital imp ieties.. and torn pont* and nehrwillossi boots seri ous ealamities. These Any tbsit be row ewes p-oper pride ; and if • hide vaisity creeps in it can he erwilied is :aloe. Says Chesterfield : would rather have young kllow too marls than tan hule drew ed ; the e'er., on that side will mew at with a little age and refeetioss: het if he is negligent at twenty, he will be sfocenly at flirty, and • stink at fifty years old . Dress yourself fine when nthere are Ise. and plain when others are phis; bet Oahe care always that your clothes are well Beak aid fit you. for otherwise they will give you a very awkward air." will be nests wen. logsraidro Spossi. ?AZ ()LIP, •U !WM sotTlf--4 "Lea* fel reettrawil Nees a epee.* is Sim Tort etty meetly free whoa we air thy Solleireer estrum k Derails the lent Coemetse the gleesiese 1 member. sat all 4 dire. bat ewes. 4 1 thes—isee who beril !.fit imps the Ala 4 war sexiest the lite 4 ear esesitew— held le three haseirs. te te ape& the im. flay 4 the reitai *sate Web ewe 1 word they emelt. bow* 100111.04 Is aft the hell of civil war Wee were ewe easel by the 3.6. there Iteertreare, we son sus ass ad by the Er-at heft of haernety wed Mims [lseghter:, ir.- were erred by doe. alba bed o* intseht to 4patr.., the ,rtes 11. 1 ewer, they load here eeeneaft -f sew—,hey ' wasted prem. ( %ppiewee:. They ?Ass erl to set with the 161111141110401 tio• 311aesh: Ithe tee.. -- We tithe the cuantry ire boyar what sal .4; 04.1. !awl wee Tsai *e we. war bootee nod towere sea afire weor reiwwwil .r, whey: there Asti ht en seen ins that a.. .-.n r , .i. ' 1.,—.4... .i...ii .... cb a., stpi •ita f - .....t.i...et •ha..l be ewe trete.ell re P.ep-e. ' Mee_ I erg. else lea 1 foeght ere the Gehl of Mu!. schtant to 'growl ep IN the ..save. 4 the rk sews '4 parry is Weettreeeve 16.1 ver.l 'h... vie. y woe*. (Appease. T. ti them we We .. 444.4 f. •r a p.,seefal .. ...tam ..41 - the l aw. tient They err. me vice : they pwserv..l we an to arse- and I nab stiiiehg h• wave w th thane o sneerer :he yrt-efeee rft 6. tercet. (At pperesel Why sheel.l we :ire el .waoty ' - X - I,l* if there lair ass wry to eet4 .A...yreispeti hy rflifoll. 11.11 2r4 . lawle. be ......90 app.., let se wee* e that ewe Whew the , Fr.. lame deiir.noi he ineesceeal. he hews es aetly the postues that bid W.. -shale hy the Soothers sete—thet eras apt • sia.- hosreird nee ,f the .4.”selt Ile bee , * •tbo , plannive 40Died shr-ir kart rake.' : Se beer 20 'loPerettesety Ikea h.«, r--....5..1 ...• der Sloth to Anis that , ftey era ;eyed the deelltry, sad 1. he.. the itaartwarey bey been grawily iespreeet by *Sam %Awe ire all the.. be ricruhei -• t:e..... seres— te the ,were 7.4.eth—erve the swir4 *I J . Is. the .olive bruseh of prow r.l4spiewety. Le the ?althea itiosery 41 the earrill them bee hare an Treeder. ao awiftiewer fewao Resit scree saw. lbw this warateme le tie seam of palsies; reseiteteeet, whee the storts:4 bete way willowy wry sea "Mr; ghee the Deseptersete per" lletell OM 4e. eaveente the Priesalliet at a fresi swill eheat ; shat it was Areetwisli dot llir Tarim, take the deals 4 Are wed seelbseeh the beinetesee. rateetteltlONlNl 6.'01'0 its Beemaret this woe whew their reer.lwel le Cowries thee the lieriseve 4 thy roars• ewe we 'nevi se." vasel. sirs ipausbrit is their plasm seat etterziapz petieres .4 the Stspreeas roan with hoeing sewitit ted perjury. willfial eel enter : she men :e herb plows were pire.lhesiteg the letrefisil 4 the !.pain.. sea wise OW Dote pwtele of the Legielesere 4 Ohio pahliety reenemell 01 essibilises is Alsi-slity 4 , :i.1. Name 'iiii‘air awl tp phtemel. The Prpeitinet. rime, Awe" taw pereiriee prejediree wad hewn& of Os hew . above erery vers4erstisetteeurpe the breve% the unary. sad the preeprity 4 ler whehr esseery euil, - Let so we he shwa : * es forget the pew ; 7011110 twit wrofr dear -seeps the •irhe 4•4 -rift se the Mow nee eh, served aer wire ; he se iiii s zrviv. 'ail h sr .iii it webs seal imp. mei let 111 three seta the ereeisiew tie eharmt sari whips wed :aeries %saw f Applararei Lire es levee there .ear pee. j,die ee betreis. sad been here*/ if As pars that ZAP losil, see iss et bevy dew set 4 'kin or eineiret. seri ?Are 'vs se wire , ) , r-r them 311 sib* ippisseih. -- Aused to Forpreermis..a. ' tt;e6ret animal W. hove fought zed feted West essiwolb : Mr ~sere I. ant rportner; 'Aar is is AMP: seem her 'warty hem& : Tedtton be e.tepty relief.: the stave, of rhos Atm" art sup Iry the .ale 4 premiere somemy het idle. ' , Nike. Pty the ',ley if Sew Ges. /'ease i. irkst ~• iii.i.--mslibirie is arra ~ th.r. etvelihtise• in mar 411114611111 P rye , svrta voirorsumer. emsehreett iv, the greet Newt. mai* is her. esellallevow fie %Piny. ..wollibera tbe povirowarmil is 'So inetri 4•SP vim rrs +sob sof sa brawls 4 tome. Faro, einem* 44. toosb. I boors* yingi so oho it semi by sbo sissoory 4 ibnoo lobo 414 sbo ebory4.l rwisoisos 4 yoor rsomposisvo4 bosses. it :h veils ..t itatipullolll demi, sor r. 4, oier 4 yam- oof essiobsero 284 !lowir Ger obillMbsso }es so bp, 1 iusisbisw yr.* t. sobs is wait mop sof loysil book. Views applompi. k waives* 'nor ~owl Odic : 4 sell coboold rim' :own* owl laios is frill NI your 0,41-re .i 4 As sill Slimis, row Adams : is will •or•il sir auk. 4 yaw ewes-i•... it evil sow Ai, mem of py iso siosiebor sri AMA ion. sloe is OWNS etf war vial Omit do. -slim 4 4. tr.T.riesero wisb Fmk. sod elosbi. ebe *ma aw.c., Ohm mss. 4 soil sod issoip ebo pow 544 brirly M somossedbos osessot. ?also : Tie !forth soil ivies 4is Isseli will row.. Tabs is : Db. owe ens{ wipe fosse die Nab* of sospipy 4n4sdia mid owri 4 MO rim sm4 Itspol spiry Co. rumr4 4 1i. IMIIMOR TAPP it Mil Ilea" mos , IMO woks or boodsoni ism spew. Ti 4: awl Jessie. shell sit is roe' esiers4. swim tier ..aroma Mims row 4 Paw lobo 4!is 44 boa sod I/moms s your Simi sod MI rier lowa wef bniisronvir mod aid Tals• is 7 aril irt. b.v. poop 4 4. osidoissis Is ler pAsirof blowy mil she Air if bar bomb." amid, Air sudsy am Did ynn $.4 *lie, me amp sr.- iketedi +rt. banal 111101110111 sAs vim primps.. ..mer 341 pool. irbwili roe spumplo ber. sharp sod Snell,. zatri IMO IrS•cti ris noir via funk amil . epor Emig Thy not invii she 44/1/ vier !low epee keg ram Rai ine. .toady awl is sib blow bow bete. bus it sever wield hemp bow am emboss tint elide is howl is iv *leap .is hymn Wier. inaseisr. is• woo Le dhow doe hunt wort. not Vie spied tbst a sew timorpesd /mope illek Me whip him ma is vim be Riot. iai hie primer per ts Asts. Same rise.. oboe semi rise emirker lbsoir the mod note sine Ile sort brae St. Pines's blowy. bet am& if be mess evirby . mites se mei evielbse Oa bp, emir be live 4 se die ay 4 it rem ad to Teets Mee Ikrebiee. -bee lie web tree sip to Ms Ne s Se be enema dare Sie but i. M sites Awe famed rem. Amery 44rbeinor west line it wort ie pia wield cir every sired, sod Met. soil belly nitro bombe espy. se Wet a awl see's per so 14. r:0 Tr. TIM miaow IMP
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