VOL. 41. The Huntingdon Journal. J. R. DURBORROW, - PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS, Offlee in new JounsAL Building, Fifth Street. TILE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is pnbii-hed every Friday by J. R. DUEBOREOW and J. A. under the firm name of J. R. Duasos.aow a Co., at $2,00 per annum IN ADVANCE, or $2.50 if not paid for in six months from date of subscription, and $3 if not paid within the year. No paper discontinued, unless at the option of the pub lishers, until all arrearagee are paid. No paper, however, will be sant out of the Slate unless absolutely paid for in advance. Transient advertisements will be inserted at TWELVE AND A-HALI CENTS per line for the first insertion, SEVEN AND A-HAL7 cum.@ for the second and nvz CENTS per line for all subsequent iLaertions. 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Hand-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, Icc., of every variety and style, printed at the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing line will be executed in the most artistic manner a tat the lowest rates. Professional Cards• fl CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street. 111. Office formerly occupiad by Messrs. Woods & Wil. [apl2,ll DR. A.B. BRITMBAUGH, offers hie professional services to the community. Office, No. 523 Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. fjan4,ll E.C. C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Lei - ter's 1.1. building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. B. J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '76. GEO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [n0v17,16 iIL. ROBB, Dentiet, office in S. T. Brown'e new building, ki. No. 520, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l H. BUCHANAN, Surgeon Dentist, No. 228, Penn . Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [mchl7,'7s HC. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Lew. Office, No. Penn Street, Hentingaon, Pa. [apl2,'7l JFRANKLIN SCIIOCK , Attorney-at-Law, Hunting . don, Pa. Prompt attention given to all legal baiti nem. Office, 229 Penn Street, corner of Court House Square. Ldecil,'72 T SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, . Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd Street. Lian4,7l TW. SLATTERN, Attorney-at-law and General Claim t) . Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of ace on Penn Street. [jau4,7l TR. DURBORROW, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Ps, e. will practice in the several Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular attention given to the settlement of estates of decedents. Office in the Jouaitm. building. T S. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, li. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 2.30 Penn Street, oppo si to Court House. (febs,ll D A. OBBISON, Attorney-at-Law. Patents Obtained. it. Office, 321 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [my31,71 Q E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., . office in Monitor building, Penn Street Prompt and careful attention given to all legal bueinette. [augs,ll-emoe WILLIAM 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. japl9:7l School and lEscellaneous_ B6oks. GOOD BOOKS FOR THE FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD, The following is a list of Valuable Books, which will be supplied trom the Office of the Huntingdon JOURNAL. Any one or more of theie books will be Swat post-paid to any of our readers on receipt of the regular price, which is named against each book. . . _ Allen's (R:L. dt L. F.) New American Farm Book $2 50 Alltn's (L. F.) American Cattle.* 2 50 Allen's (R. L.) American Farm Book .......... ......- l5O Alien's (1.. K) Rural Architecture .l 60 Allen's (tt. L.) Diseases of Domestic Animals 1 Olt American Bird Fancier 3O American Gentleman's Stable Guide. .... 1 00 American Rose ealturist 3O American Weeds and Useful Plants 1 75 Atwood's Country and Suburban Hons I 50 Atwood's Modern American 'lom.teads* 3 50 Baker's Practical and Scientific Fruit Culture...— 2 I/0 Barber's Crack Shot. 1 75 Barry's Fruit Garden Belt's Carpentry Made Easy. Bement's Rabbit Fancier 3O Bicknell's Village Builder and Supplement. 1 Vol l2 00 Bicknell's Supplement to Village Builder* 8 00 Bogardus' Field Cover, and Trap Shootings ...... 2 00 Bommer's Method of Making Manursa...—... ...... . 25 Boussingault's Rum: Economy 1 60 Brackett's Farm Talk-. paper, 50cus.; cloth 75 Bieck's New Book of Flowers 1 73 Brill's Farm-Gardening and Seed-Growing....-- Broom.Jorn and bucks.; cloth 73 Brown's Taxidermist's Manual. ... . . 1 00 Bruckner's American Manures* 1 50 Buchanan's Culture of the Grape and Wine making 75 Boers Cider-Maker's Manuals Buiat's Flower-Garden Direetoiy Buist's Family Kitchen Gardener 1 00 Borges' American Kennel and Sporting Field...- 4 00 Burnham's The China For - l. 1 00 Burn's Architectural Drawing Book* ...... lams' Llustratet: Drawing Book. 1 00 Burns' Ornamental Drawin 800 k.......... Burr's Vegetables of America. 3 00 OildwelPs kgricultnral Chemical Analysis ... 200 Canary Birds. Paper 50 cts Cloth 76 Chorlton's Grape-Grower's C tilde 75 Cleveland's Landscape Achitecture. 1 50 Clok's Diseases of -,heep. 125 Cobbett's American Gardener 75 Cole's .tner'..ti Fruit Book 75 Cole's American Veterinarian. Cooked and c °king Food for Domestic Animals 2O Cooper's Game Fowls. 6OO Corbett's Poultry Yar. and Market.pa.soctB., cloth 75 Croft's Progr.sit American Are. tecture lO 00 Cummiugs' Archnectural Details lO CG Cummings & Miller's Architecture* lO 00 Clipper's Uni, ensal Stair-Builder 3 50 Dadd's Modern Horse Doctor, 12 mo 1 60 Dat'd's Amer Len Cattle Doctor, 12 mo 1 50 Dadd's American Cattle Doctor, Bvo, c10th5......, 25 0 Dadd's American Reformed 1,1- - se Book, 8 vo, cloth 250 Dada's Muck Manual .. Darwin's Variations of Animals & Plants. 2 vols [new ed.] Dead Shot; or, St+ortsman's r nplete Guide* 1 75 Detail Cottage and Construci.ive Architectures lO 00 ire Voe's Market Assistant. 2 SO Dinka, Mayhew, anr. Hutchison, 'a the Dog. Downing's It dscape ..rden'ag Dwver's Horse 800 k... ............. ........ Tu wood on Cranberry 75 Eggleston's Circuit Rider. ........ ..--...... .......... 1 75 Eggleston's End of th -.....- ........ 1 50 Eggleston's Hoosier tol-Mastar 1 25 Eggleston's Mystery of Yetropolisville...... 1 60 Eggleston's (Geo. C.) A Man of Honor Elliott's Hand Book for Fruit Growers. Pa., 80c.; clo 1 Oo Elliott's Hand-Book of Practical Landscape Gar dening*„.e.. . . Elliott's Lawn and 'hade Trees' ........... It liott's Western Frt. it-Grower' ...... „ 1 50 Eveleth's School House Architecture...-........ 8 00 Every Horse Owner's Cy.. piedia........ ............. 3 75 Field's Pear Cult re.. .. Flax Culture. [Seven Prize EN' TO by practical grow- Flint (Charles L.) on Grasses. ................ ...- 2 50 Flint's Mitch Cows and Dairy Farming. 2 60 Frank Forester's !_me:.can Game :.. its season* 3 00 Frank Forester'e - geld Sports, P vo, 2 voles 800 Frank Foresters ash rod Fish.ng, tva., 100 Engst 360 Frank Forester's Horse' - • !merle- 8 vo., 2 10 00 Fink Forester's Mato 1 oung Sp - rtsmen. Bvo. 3 00 French's Farm Draiaat, ........ Fuller's Forest-Tree Culturist . 1 60 Fuller's Grape Cult, ist Fuller's Illustrated .rawbt. v Cultnrist 2O Fuller's Small Fruit Oalturist Fulton's Peed_ Cult Gardner's Carriage Painters' van ual * 1 00 Garth's. 3 How to Paint* Geyelin's Poultry-Breeding 1 25 Gould's American Stair ,r's* . 4 00 Gould's Carpenter's an. ituilder's Assistant.........* 3 0 0 Gregory on Cabbages' paper- 30 Gregory on Onion Rae 34 ......... 30 Gregory on 3quashas ......... .......... .....--. paper.. 30 Guenon on ifillab Oows ........... . .....75 Guillannis's Interior Architecture* 3OO Gun, Rod, and Saddle* • 1 00 Hallett's Builders' Specifications* 1 75 Hallett's Builders' Contracts* lO Harney's Barns, Out-Buildings, and tones*......—. 6 00 Harris's Insects Injurious to Vegetation... Plain $4; Colored Engravings 6 50 Harris on the Pig 1 60 Hedges' on Sorglio or the Northern Sugar Plant*„ 1 50 Helmsley's Hardy Trees, Shrubs, and 7 50 Henderson's Gardening for Pleasure...-. ...... 1 50 Henderson Gardening for Profit 1 50 THE JOURNAL STORE Is the place to buy all kinds of $OOO 1300;,:) 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. 00 per annum, in advance; $2.50 within six months, and $3.00 if not paid within the year. 00000000 - 0 -- 0 00000000 SUBSCRIBE. 00000000 ;;;;;;;g TO ADVERTISERS ADVERTISING MEDIUM, The JOURNAL is one of the best printed papers in the Juniata Valley, and is read by the best citizens in the county.* It finds its way into 1800 homes weekly, and is read by at least 5000 persons, thus making it the BEST advertising medium in Central Pennsyl- 'lnnis. Those who patronize its columns are sure of getting a rich return for their investment. Advertisements, both local and foreign, solicited, and inserted at reasonable rates. Give us an order. mum JOB DEPARTMENT .. - : • P, 1:1 '4 F. 0 •42 1 ii. P 0 0 31; g_ Et PRINTING - COLO] Mir All business letters should be ad dressed to J. R. DURBORROW & CO., Huntingdon, Pa. he tuntingdon ournat Printing. PUBLISHED -IN TERMS : 0 0 0 0 0 0 00 o o 00000000 PROGRESSIVE REPUBLICAN PAPER. o o 0 0 o 0 o o I. .--- FIRST-CLASS 5000 READERS WEEKLY. .i tr: 1-3 Ea. CrY CD Di I 1 S. .1 CE, "V .-1 co ii Pi ce , CY R 10 CIAL' Eke glrists' *lntr. A Temperance Fanatic. Kind friend, put your glass on the table Untasted, and listen to me, You say I'm a temperance fanatic— Mayhap I have reason to be. It is years since we parted from college, Let us talk over time passed away, And see of companions and classmates Who's dead, and who's living to-day. There were ten of us altogether, Here are two—now what of the eight ? But a few days ago I saw William, He who beat us all in debate. flu was rich, you know; now he is needy, I asked him where his fortune all went, He tipped up a glass as he answered, "I drank it down so—every cent." Then Ralph, who bore the first honor, He took to the bar as you know, But another bar claimed his attention, And business progressed rather slow. He died of the tremens, poor fellow His talents would rank with the first, And to think of him dying ere forty— A prey to the demon of thirst. Then Bob, irrepressible Robert, Who always took the lead in our fun, The gayest and wildest f fellows, Yet the kindest and best hearted one. Well, he went to prison—life sentence, He took too much liquor oneday, And a spree that began in good feeling Ended up with a stabbing affray. Then there was that young prince of topers, The high headed Archibald West, He never was known to be tipsy, Yet he drank more than all of the rest. Ab ! he is reaping the crop of his sowing, His son loves the cup, and has not A stomach of steel like his father, And already the boy is a sot. I made Tom a visit last summer : You remember Tom, quiet and mild, Well, he makes the most fretful of husbands, I pity his wife and his child. lie's pleasant enough in the evening, As he sips his hot toddy and ale, But all the forenoon he's a terror, Cross, headache, snappish and pale. And George, who was called Blaus Adonis, Who turned women's heads with a smile, That straight limbed and graceful Appolo, Who took a dram "once in a while." Oh, Charles, you would scarcely believe it, But the fellow's a sight to behold, His nose is as red as a lobster, He's bloated, and blear-eyed and old. So Charles, when I name o'er our classmates, Who all tipped the glass now and then, I think what woes might have been saved them If they had been temperance men, You,l know,seens untouched by drink's dangers, Yet your future we neither can scan, And I really feel safer for being A very fanatical man. Ely *fig-Ulm THE WEDDING GOOSE. In those days the law of marriage was very strict. Fourteen days' pubrc notice or an intention to commit matrimony was required; and the clergyman, or the jus tice, who performed the marriage cere mony without having received a certificate to the effect that said public notice had been duly given, was liable to a heavy penalty. Augustus Sebastian Walpole had long loved and adored Miss Mary Elmira Al lard; and it had for some months been fixed that they should be wed on Christ mas evening, and Sebastian looked out that his "intention" was published in due season. He regarded it as a most momen tous affair, and he entered upon the pre liminaries with much fear and trembling. As Christmas drew near, preparations for the happy event were made. Mary would not be married at her own home, and her step mother was very glad when she heard the decision; so it was arranged that the ceremony would take place at Sebastian's, and Mary's younger sister Polly went over to keep her company, and to help her in the labor of preparation ; for she was determined with her own hands to prepare the wedding feast. Christmas would come on Thursday.— They were to be married at six o'clock in the evening, and after that the wedding feast was to be served. There was not a grown person at Day ton Center who had not heard of Mary Allard's "Smothered Goose." Nobody else, since Mary's own mother died, could smother-roast a goose like her. The pro cess was not only a mystery, but so exact were the culinary requirements, that few could acquire the art. The goose cooked in this way came upon the table brown, sweet, tender, excessively juicy, and without a particle of that pecu liar oily flavor that renders goose and duck so unpalatable to some. Of course smoth ered goose was to be the main dish of the feast ; and that Mary might have a goose worthy of her skill, Sebastian had selected , one several months before, from a flock owned by a friend at the Center, and this friend was to shut it away from its mates a few weeks before it would be wanted, and give it extra food. Wednesday came—the day before Christ mas—and after dinner Sebastian bitched old Dobbin to the sleigh, and made ready to start for the Center, there to get his marriage certificate, his goose, and various other articles too numerous to mention ; one of which, however, was a gallon of good, old Madeira wine. And here let me make a remark • Pi+ I ri ° ce Mary had suggested that they must have some wine at the wedding. She was not herself in favor of its use; "but what would folks think ?" Sebastian scratched his head, and hesitated. "Plague take the 'tarnal stuff !" he said, "you know I've bad too much of it in my day, Mary. I've sworn that I'd never bring another drop into the house." "But only this time, Sebastian. You need not drink it, you know ; but only think what folks will say if we have no wine." "I don't care what all the folks in crea tion say, only you, Molly; and seeing as you want it, it shall be had." "Thank you, my love," and she kissed him, little thinking what a temptation she was throwing in his way. Sebastian went to the village, which was called Dayton Center, and the first thing he did was to wait upon the town clerk and get his certificate. "It's lucky you came just as you did, Sebastian," said the clerk, as he handed over the certificate, "for I am going to Taftsbury to spend Christmas, and stop the week out. Yours is the only certifi cate I've got, and that was made out so long ago that I'd entirely forgotten it. I should have been off in half an hour, and my fblks wouldn't have known anything about it. However, it's all right now." From the clerk's Sebastian went to his friend Burke's and got the goose. And it was a beauty—all picked and finished off as smooth and fair as a chicken. CD Go 0 e, 1 7 Y. - "Tell Mary that I've cleaned it all out inside," said Mrs. Burke. "She'll know my work; and when Susan Burke says a HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1877 goose is clean, she'll know 'tis clean." Lemons, sugar, spice, nuts, raisins ; and then came the last item in the list, one gallon of Madeira wine. "Taste of that, old fellow !" cried the store-keeper, holding up a tumbler half full of the clear, blushing liquid. That was before the days of the Maine Law and Adulteration. Sebastian tasted of it—tasted again— smacked his lips, and sipped again. "Don't be afraid of it. That's the stuff that puts life and vigor into a man." • And Sebastian drank it down. "By glory, Walpole, you ought to have some of this old Sherry to go with it.— Just try that. If you don't say that's the best Sherry you ever tasted, I'll give it to you." A man, full-blooded and vigorous, who had tasted nothing stronger than coffee fur two years, couldynot contain a gill of old Madeira without feeling it in his brain very quickly. Sebastian waited not to be asked a second time to take the Sherry.— He drank off half a tumbler full, and then entered into a spirited conversation. Mercy ! how his tongue had loosened; and how liberal he felt ! Of course he would have a gallon of the Sherry. "Is old Sol. Marshall going to be at your wedding ?" "Certainly." "Got any brandy at home ?" "No." •'ley glory ! you ought to have a (put —say a bottle of it—just for old Sul.— He'll appreciate it. And then you'll want it in the house, you know. I've got about the best article of pale Martel that ever crossed the water. There—just put a drop of water in that—not too much— don't drown it I" Sebastian poured a very little water in to about a gill of pure old brandy, and having held it up to the light, and marked the oily waving of the bright, topaz tinted liquid, he poured it down his throat. It was good—capital. He would have a bottle of it. Yes "put me up two bottles of it, while you're about it. Thunder ! a fellow isn't married only once!' "That's the idea Sebastian." "Ah ! Tom ! Charley ! Harry !—how are you, old fellows ?" "Jerusalem ! Sebastian, is it you ? Say, old chap, it's corning off to-morrow ?" "Yes." 'Then you ought to do the handsome." "Of course I will. Come up—what'll you have ?" The three young men who had just en tered the store had been old cronies of Sebastian's in his days of fun and frolic, and they were glad enough to find him in a social mood ; for during the past two years they had enjoyed very little of his companionship. But he was pleased to meet them now. With the fire in his blood that set him on day road to frolic, they were the three of all others he would have chosen for companionship at that time. There is no need of enlarging bere.— When Sebastian commenced to drink with his old cronies he was gone. He had a jolly good time, no doubt; but be was to carry little remembrance of it borne with him. About two o'clock on Christmas morning Mary, who had been watching all night, saw old Dobbin turn into the yard, with the sleigh behind him, but she could see no Sebastian. Calling Polly, she ran down to the door. She did not stop for a lan tern, for the moon was up, and gave light enough. In the sleigh, flanked with dem ijohns, bottles, bundles, and the goose, lay Sebastian. At first Mary grew weak with a great fear, but she soon divined the truth. Was she incensed No. Her first thought was, and she spoke it aloud : "It's all my fault, Polly, and not his.— He didn't want to buy the wine, but I coaxed him. Poor, dear Sebastian ! Oh, God send that this is the worst !" They got Sebastian up, and got him in to the house, he the while declaring: 'No, no boys—(hic)—no' anor'r drop ! I—(hic)—tell ye—(hic)—Molly'll cry ! I'm a—(hic)—cussed fool !—(hic)—Oh, dear Molly—(hic)—wha' for'd ye—(hic) —want me to git the dern'd nasty stuff for ? Oh ! git me home !" Toward the middle of the forenoon Se bastian awoke, and Mary was soon with him. Ile had said enough in his wander ing, while she and Polly had been getting him to bed to give her an understanding of the whole affair, and instead of blaming him, her first words were of love and kind ness. She acknowledged that it was all her own fault, and that she had been suf ficiently punished for persuading her lover I to do that which be felt he ought not to do. "So let us think no more about it, dear," cried Mary, with a kiss. But Sebastian was not willing to let his Mary to bear the burden of the blame.—'l He claimed it for his own to bear, and acknowledged his sin, and promised that he would not do it again. He looked into his pocket book and found his money all gone—every dollar ' • but that wasn't worth talking about. To be sure, there had been something over a hundred dollars ; but he could make that up in time ; and he pro fessed to hope that the lesson might be worth that to him. He saw what he sup posed to be an ad important paper just where he put it, and that was all right. The day passed on ; a cup of good strong coffee, and a little exercise in the open air, very soon brought Sebastian up to some thing like himself. The pies and the cake and the pudding were made, and the royal goose was in process of smothering, and everything seemed to be in readiness for the grand event. "Come, Sebastian, dear—they are wait ing for us." "In a minute, love. Let me put the money in the—" He meant to have said certificate, as he supposed he had taken that paper from his pocket book ; but upon opening it, he read —not "Know all Men by these Presents," but "Augustus S. Walpole, to B. F. Grantly, Dr. To one gal. Madeira wine," etc. "leavens and earth !" Mary rushed into the room, and found her lover pale and trembling. He had lost his marriage certificate! They hunted through every bit of clothing Sebastian had touched since the night before, arid then they went out and looked through the sleigh ; but the paper could not be found. They looked again and again, and looked once more—looked into possible and into impossible places. The old minister was summoned and the loss was explained to him. He knew they had been regularly published, and as soon as Mr. Harnq came back from Taftsbury he would get a new certificate dated back to agree with the old one. 0 ! couldn't he—wouldn't he, for mercy's sake ! marry them ? Parson Bebee was a kind-hearted, whole souled man, but he was unswervingly con scientious. Not for worlds would he violate the statutes of his State. And, moreover, he explained that such a cere mony would be no marriage in law.— Children born of such a marriage would illegitimate. No. He could not ! One more last long search, and the cer tificate was given up. The minister had been done and explained the whole matter to the waiting company, and they had said, "Let us have the feast ; let joy take the place of sadness, and at another time we'll come to a quiet wedding." The parson himself thought it would be too bad to disappoint the invited guests. "Let's carve Mary's Wedding Goose—" "Not a wedding goose !" groaned Sebas, tian. "Well we'll call it so. Come, cheer up. Many a storm has blown over without harm to anybody." The great old sitting room was ablaze with a score of lamps, and when Sebastian and Mary bad taken their seats together at the table—sitting on the center of the long side, opposite the old minister—and when they found bow truly kind and con siderate their friends were, they began to take heart, and Mary whispered to her lover : "Let's be happy-it' we can Sebastian.— It won't be for long that the evil shall rest with us." Parson Bebee invoked the Divine bless ing and then seized the carving utensils and attacked the smothered goose, the royal savor of which had filled the house with its delicious odor. He took off the wings, disjointed and separated the legs, and then cut down at the breast, and pared off the thick, rich layers of meat from the sides of the breast bone. This done, he inserted the point of the carver into the thoracic cavity for the purpose of extract ing the stuffing. A few bits of rich stuff ing, and then something interfered—there seemed to be a substance that did not be long there. The parson got the points of the fork into it, and finally pulled it out. "A dish rag !" inadvertently uttered an unsophisticated female guest. "Oh !I thought Susan Burke had cleaned it !" gasped Mary, turning red as fire, and then paling to an ashen hue. "Hold on 1" exclaimed the parson, who having partially opened the extraneous substance with the knife and fork, now took it into his hands. "You needn't be at all alarmed, my dear child," he went on, at the same time standing erect, and overhauling the thing in such a manner that those who were sitting could not see it. "It is all right. The goose is all proper. Agustus Sebastian Walpole and Mary Elmira Allard, I want you to stand I can't do as I'd like to do, but I've thought that our wedding feast would seem more like the real thing if we only went through the form. Come—jut to please us all—stand up. Stand up, and take hold of hands, and I'll show you just how the thing ought to be done; for I declare I can't serve out this goose without just little more than simple blessing.l "Oh, yes!! yes 1 Do !do came from all parts of the long table. And without thinking, moving like ma elAes, their self-wills fairly crushed out —the twain arose, took each other by the hand, and the old pastor went through the marriage service with such unction that old Deacon Allard,Mary's uncle, exclaimed "Ain't that ere a leetle too much like the real thing, parson ?" "Well, no; I think not," replied the minister. And then be showed what he'd found in the goose, to-wit, Sebastian's money and the marriage certificate. Was there ever such a time? The old parson, the moment he ceased speaking, shot back bis chair and popped around and kissed the bride, and everybody else followed suit; she laughir i' , and crying by turns, but all the while ashappy,as could be. And then, with the bright gleaming of a great joy, and the blessed beams of a happy promise, making jubilant the - feast, the assembled company set to the work of testing the excellence of the duly com• missioned and accredited Wedding Goose. *tied Visa Hang. Instinct of Appetite. THE QUEEREST OF QUEER CASES-LIFE'S GREAT SECRET : "KNOW THYSELF." Chemical analysis and physiological re search have established, beyond dispute, that every article of food and drink is composed of elements differing in quanti ty or quality. It is equally true that the various parts of the human frame are dif ferent in their composition, as the bone, the flesh, the nerve, the tendon, etc. But there is no element in the human body which is not found in some article of food or drink. A certain moral proportion of these elements, properly distributed, con stitutes vigorous health, and form 4 1, per fect body. If one of these elements be in excess, certain forms of disease manifest themselves; if there is not enough, some other malady effects the frame. When the blood contains less than its healthful amount of iron, it is poor, watery, and com paratively colorless ; the muscles are flab by, the face pale, the eyes sunken, the whole body weak, the mind listless and sad. If the bones have not enough lime, they have no strength, are easily bent, and the patient is rickety; if there is too much lime, then the bones are brittle, and are broken by the slightest fall of unusual THE HIGHEST SKILL OF THE PHYSICIAN in these cases consists in determining the excess or deficit of any element, and in supplying such food or drug as will meet the case. When the medical attendant cannot determine what is wanting nor furnish the supply, nature is often loud enough in her calls, through the tastes or appetites, to indicate very clearly what item of food or drink contains the needed ele ment ; this is the "Instinct of Appetite." Chemistry is unable to say of but one arti cle of human food, that it contains all the constituents necessary to supply the human body: with every element requisite for its welfare, aad that is pure milk, as supplied by the mother of the new being ; but after the first years of life, the body demands new elements, in order to enable it to meet the duties which increasing age imposes; hence, nature drieS up this spring, as being no longer adequate, and compels the search for other kind of sustenance, showing that milk is a proper, sole food for the young ones ; and that healthy grown persons who live upon it mainly will always become in valids. All kinds of life, whether vegeta ble or animal, have within them A PRINCIPLE OF PRESERVATION, As well as of perpetuity; were that not the case, all that breathes or grows would die. This principle or quality is common to man and beast, and all that springs from root or seed; it is named "Instinct." It is instinct which calls, by thirst, for water, when there is not fluid enough in the sys tem. It is instinct which calls for food, by hunger, when a man is weak and needs renovation. It is curious and practically valuable as a means for the removal of dis ease, to notice the workiog of this instinct, for it seems to be almost possessed with a discriminating intelligence; certain it is, the standard medical publications give well• authenticated facts, showing that following, the craving of the appetite, the animal in stinct has accomplished far more than the physicians skill was able to do ; has saved life in multitudes of cases, when science has done its best, but iu vain. A CHILD CURED BY MAPLE BUDS. About three years ago the little daughter of a farmer on the Hudson river had a fall, which induced a long, painful and dan gerous illness, ending in blindness ; medi cation availed nothing. By accident a switch containing maple buds was placed in her han Is, when she began to eat them, and called earnestly for more, and continu ed to eat them with avidity, improving meanwhile in her general health for some fifteen days or more, when this particular relish left her, and she called for candy, and, as in the case of the buds, ate nothing else for two weeks, when this also was dropped, a more natural taste returning with returning eyesight and usual health. This was an instinct calling for those arti cles of food which contained the elements, the want of which laid between disease and recovery. CONSUMPTION CURED BY SALT. A gentleman aged thirty-six seemed to be in the last stages of consumptive dis ease, when he was seized with an uncon trollable desire for oommon table salt; he spread it in thick layers over his meat and over his bread and butter; he carried it in his vest pocket, which was daily emptied by eating a pinch at a time. He regained his health, and remained well for years afterwards. AN INFANT TODDY .DRINKER. More recently a case occurred in Eng land of a ehi!d gradually declining in health, in spite of all that could be done, by a remarkably shrewd and observant physician. On one of his visits, he found the father sipping a glass of toddy. The thought occurred to the doctor to offer some of it to the child, who took it with great satisfaction. The hint was improv ed ; more was giver, and more; and for two months this child of two years old liv ed almost wholly on whisky toddy, when the desire declined, a more natural appe tite returned, the health improved every hour, and was eventually entirely restor ed; but ever thereafter the child loathed the very smell or even sight of whisky toddy. BENEFIT OF ALE DIET. A similar case is reported where a. sick child of two years old took a pint of ale daily, and nothing else for many days, ul timately recovering, when the sight of an ale-bottle could not be endured. The child of a New Yorier was supposed to be dying of the "summer complaint." As a last and desperate resort it was hurried off to Rockaway in August, having the (usu ally considered fatal) hiccup when it start ed. Immediately on its arrival, on a raw, chilly evening, about an hour after sun down, some fresh milk from the cow was instantly boiled and offered to it. It was with difficultry that the bowl could be withdrawn from its poor emanciated fingers. After an hour's interval more milk was given, and nothing els., for a number of days. That child is now one of the heart iest, healthiest girls in New York 110 W POUND CAKE SAVED A DYING GIRL. In the case above given, the children could not name their cravings; but acci dent threw in their way what instinct re quired. Grown persons can express their cravings. There are many persons who can record, from their own personal expe rience, the beginning of a return to health, from gratifying some insatiate desire. The celebrated Professor Charles Caldwell was fond of relating in his lectures, that a young lady abandoned to die, called for some pound cake, which "science" would have pronounced a deadly dose; but as her case was considered hopeless, she was grat ified, and recovered, living good health afterwards. But in soma forms of dyspep sia, to follow the cravings is to aggravate the disease, life is made intolerable, and suicide closes the scene. In low fevers, typhoid, yielding to the cravings is certain death. THE "CRAVINGS" OF NATURE. To know when and how to follow the instinct of appetite, to gratify the cravings of nature, is of inestimable value. There is a rule which is always safe, and will save life in multitudes of cases, where the most skillfully "exhibited" drugs have been en tirely unavailing. Partake at first of what nature seems to crave, in very small quan tities; if no uncomfortable feeling follows, gradually increase the amount, until no more is called for.—Hall's Journal of Health. How to Expand the Lungs. Step into the purest air you can find ; stand perfectly erect with the head and shoulders back, and then fix the lips as though you were going to whistle, draw the air not through the nostrils, but thro' the lips into the lungs. When the chest is about full, raise the arms, keeping them extended,with the palms of the hands down as you suck in the air, so as to bring them over the head just as the lungs are quite full. Then drop the thumbs inward, and the chest open, reverse the process by which you draw your breath until your lungs are entirely empty. This process should be re peated three or four times during the day. It is impossible to describe to one who has never tried it, the glorious sense of vigor which follows the exercise.—lt is the best expectorant in the world. We know of a gentleman, the measure of whose chest has been increased by this means some three inches during as many months. Little Thoughts and Big Phrases. Simple and unpretending ignorance is always respectable, and sometimes charm. ing ; but there is little that more deserves contempt than the pretense of ignorance to knowledge. The curse and the peril of the-language in this day, and particularly in this country, is that it is at the mercy of men who, instead of being content to use it well according to their honest ig norance, use it ill according to their affected knowledge; who, being vulgar, would seem elegant ; who, being empty, would seem full ; who make up in pretense what they lack in reality; and whose little thoughts, let off in enormous phrases, sound like fire-crackers in an empty barrel.—Richard Grant White. Thaddeus Stevens. REMINISCENCES OF THE GREAT COMMON. ER-HIS APPROACHABILITY AND LIB ERALITY-HIS WIT AND SARCASM. From the Williamsport (Pa.) Banner.] I have spoken of Stevens as the leader of the House. He was the only acknowl edged leader during my connection with the House. After his death there were, of course, many aspirants for the position, but no one of them was like Saul—head and shoulders above the rest. There were too many men of about average qualities to make any leader possible. And Stevens ruled them with a rod of iron. He toler ated no disaffection in his ranks. He per mitted no divided allegiance. And the awe and dread which members manifested of him, of course, contributed to his suc cess as a party leader, though it was amus inn to those of us who knew him better. To the House he appeared like the fourth form of the prophet's vision—dark, mys terious, iron -teethed, terrible—while by nature he was one of the gentlest and most genial of men, with an overflowing sym pathy for all in distress, and whose appeals he could never resist. There was, perhaps, no public man in Washington more easily approachable. Men, women and children went-to him freely to consult him, and were always sure of a sympathetic hearing. But in the House he seemed like a man or iron. His features seemed fixed and im movable. His utterances were delivered without the least appearance of excitement even in the most exciting debates, and his wit and sarcasm, which were so much dreaded by his fellow-members, seemed to be absolutely spontaneous and as natural to him as any other portion of his speech. I remember, as an instance of this, his re• ply to a member from California. Stevens had made a speech on some subject, which the member referred to was criticising se verely, and in the course of his remarks seid : "Mr. Speaker, the speech of the gentleman from l'ennsylvania evinces just as much oonscionoe as I would expect in a representative of the coal and iron inter ests of that State." Stevens, in reply said : "Mr. Speaker, I did not think the gentle man from California had so much wit, but he has just so much." • His speeches were destitute of ornament, and were models of brevity and concise ness, notably to his speech betZire the Sen ate on the impeachment of Andrew John son. A delegation of Dunkards from his district called upon him in a friendly way shortly afterward, and in the course of the conversation one of tliem said to him : "Ah, Mr. Stevens, that was a great speech you made on the impeachnient—a great speech." "What did you think . was great about it?" said Stevens. "0," was the re ply, "because it was so leetle " I doubt if the old man ever appreciated any cotnpli meat more highly. As an instance of his benevolence I re member his calling at my office during a Christmas vacation, when nearly all the officials had left Washington, and said he was in great trouble. I asked him what was the matter. He replied that the Ser geant-at-Arms, who had the custody of the funds of members, had gone home, and that he had got a letter from an old wo man in Lancaster telling him that she had no coal for the winter, and he wanted to send her some money, and could not get any in the absence of the Sergeant-at Arms. I told him to draw a check on the Sergeant-at-arms for what he wanted, and I would cash it, which was done, and be hobbled off greatly delighted to have gut out of that "trouble." No appeal of suf fering humanity was ever unheeded by him. In conversation he was one of the most agreeable of men, and his talk was enliv ened by flashes of wit that came without the slightest apparent effort. Ward, of the Elmira district, tuld me a constituent of his—a Baptist preacher—called on him and wanted him to introduce him to Ste vens, for whom he professed the most pro found reverence and admiration. Ward went with him to Stevens' room, and found him lying, as was common in these later days, flat on his back on the bed. lie in troduced his friend as a Baptist minister who was desirous of making his acquaint ance, and then said : "Mr. Stevens, how are you feeling to day ?" "Oh," said he, "about as well as a man can who has been making an apothecary shop of his belly," whereupon, Ward said, he thought he saw the preacher's reverence considerably di minish. McPherson, who was very small in star ure, had fallen down on the pavement in going from the Capitol to his boarding house. Stevens asked me the neat day what was the matter with him. I said I thought it was owing to some blackberries he had eaten the previous evening. "Black berries ? ' said he, "why, I should think one blackberry would fill him up." He had got so feeble that he could not walk up the steps of the Capitol, and Joe Reese and John Chauncy, two stout young men, who were employes of the House, were assigned to the duty of carrying him up and down in a chair. On one occasion he said to them, "What will I do for somebody to carry me when you two stalwart fellows are dead and gone ?' I shall never forget the last interview I ever had with him. I called on him a few days after his return to the last session he lived to attend, with my friends Wiugard and Montgomery, who were in Washing ton, and desired to pay their respects to him. Ile was sitting in a chair, and his physician, Dr. Young; was. in attendance on him. He welcomed us very cordially, and the conversation that followed was an incessant flow of witand humor on his part. He asked after McPherson, and I said he was at home making arrangements, I be lieved, to bring his wife and family to Washington. "Serves him right," said he, "a man who is thol enough to get 'parried ought to be condemned to live with his wife." A servant brought in a note and handed it to him. He read it and wrote a brief reply, when Dr. Young asked him if he ever used glasses. "Glasses," said he, "what would a young fellow like me want with glasses ? "You must have been near-sighted in your younger days," said the Doctor. "Why, no," said he, "I thought I could see through people better than I can now. " "flow is your bearing," said the Doctor. "A great deal too good," was the reply; "I hear a great deal more about myself than I want to ;" and so the conversation went on. As we arose to take our leave, be said to us : "I am much obliged to you, my friends, for this visit. I wish you could stay longer. I would like to talk to you about the political situation. I may never see you again, bat depend up on it all is right. The country will emerge safely from its troubles, and you may de pend upon it that when I am dead and gone, and forty millions of worms have beep poisoned by the medicine that Dr. Young has been stuffing into me, this Government will be standing firm as ever." i)e Ndget of Isfun. Wanted to get on a Jury. The Virginia City (Nev.) Chronicle has the following piece of pleasantry : Presently the stillness of the court room was interrupted by the entrance of a man who came in with a shuffling, uneasy step, and with his hat in his hand. He halted and leaned against the railing. Nobody took the slightest notice of him, however. At last he took courage and spoke : "Is the Judge in ?" The clerk immediately awoke his hon or. "Well, what do you want?" "I'm looking for a job, your honor. I've been looking for work over a month." "There's nothing for you here." "I thought ye occasionally gave jury men a job. I don't read newspapers any, and bein' a stranger in town, I haven't got. any prejudices agin anybody. A pard of mine wrote down to me at Reno last week, and said that the jury business up here was brisk, an' it would pay to come up. As I'm a stranger to you and a little hard up, start in and serve for a case or two for half price, till you kin see what I kin do." "What are your main qualifications ?" 'My strong suit is main' a jury agiec. No juries ever get hung if I'm on 'em I just lay low till they take the first ballot, then jive the majority and argue the rest into it. I can discount any lawyer talking. I can show 'em up points they never tumb led to before. Sometimes I have to tt•e force, but seldom. Once, down at Truc kee, in a murder case, there were a couple of fellers atandin' out agin hangin', and after arguing with 'em as smooth and gen tlenuanly as I could for over a (patter of an hour, I went for 'etn with chairs, and by the time I'd busteJ half a dozen pieces of furniture over 'em, they was glad to come in with a verdict of 'Murder in th-t first degree,' and the fellow was hung not long afterward. In these justice courts I can get on the jury, and if you'll just give mo the wink as to how you want the ease to go, I'll guarantee to fetch in tile verdict you want, or not take a cent." The man was told to drop round agais to a day or so, and they would try awl make a vacancy for him. order to do it, however, soma regular juryman will probably have to be diaeharged. An Eye for Nature. Yesterday forenoon a woman was observ ed skulking around the foot of Woodward avenue as if she desired to conceal her identity from people nn the ferryboats. She finally concealed herself behind a post, and after half an hour's watchina ° she and dobly walked aboard one•of the boats just landing. On the promenade deck a mid dle aged man of good address was talking to two women who seemed to be strangers to him. Re had been calling their atten tion to the ccol breezes, playful ripples and dancing sunshine, and was just asking them if the grcen banks on the Canada side didn't remind them of the quaint old ruins along the Rhine, when the woman who had been skulking around came up behind him and landed a cuff on his ear that made bin gasp for breath. "Pintin' out the scenery, are you I" she exclaimed, as he reached for his hat. "Left home on a drunk three days ago , your family out of provisions and the baby sick, and I find you down here with all the style of a duke, pintin' out Canada to strange women !" "I—l was—." "You pint for home !" she interrupted. "and if you ever think of dodging into an alley I'll yell 'Murder !' and turn out the whole police force!" He gave one last, lingering look at the Canada shore, and went down stairs, dodged around a buggy, and shot down the wharves as if fired from a gun. "Never mind !" she remarked, as she stood upon a bale of hay and watched his flight—"he'll have to have a change of paper collars before the week ends, and it'll be just as delicious to get my fingers into his hair Saturday night as this morn ing When I get through with him he'll think the scerery around here has run down to an old horse and one sunflower i" —Detroit Free Press. He Wanted to Jene. "You wan' to fine the ban', do you ?" said an old negro preacher to a young con vert. 'Yes, sar, I wan' to jine." "Well, sar, do you believe Gerliah, a pickaninny little shaver, slowed a great big man called David, dat was longer dan do Centre Market, with a pebble dat was no bigger daft a huckleberry, eh ?" "No ! I don't b'leve nothin' like dat," "Den you can't jine." "Well, den I believes it. On wid de katekise." "Do yo b'leve," continued the dawn, "dat der war a man called Joner who swallered a whale and kept it down a awful long time before he spitted it out ?" "No sar; can't make me believe dat," was the response. "Den you can't jine." "Well, now, by jingo, I b'leve dat too. Go on wid de katekise." "Do you neve dat dere was a wan nam ed Delilla, and dat a woman called Samp son got down in de cellar of a big house what weighed mor'n de Dfhtennial, and lifted it kerslap clean out ob de world ?" "Don't b'leve nothin ob de kind," was the indignant reply. "Den you can't jine.' "Don't wan't to fine." "I don't b'leve dat fish story you just told me either." There was no &Ether "katekise." Sax was a noble farmer's daughter.— He a son of ditto. They had journeyed back to the hog pens, and were sitting on an old log, gazing at the beauties of nature, and listening to the music of the tree toads, and now and then the mellow tune of the distant jackass, that was wafted to their ears by the gentle winds that sighed among the jimson weeds and was heavily laden with the odor of ben roosts and pig pens. The last. rays of the setting sun were fall ing fast. One of his arms was around Samantha Jane's waist, his bead resting on the small of her back. She looked like a grasshopper dying with the hiccups, and he felt like a mud turtle choked on a toad. "Samantha Jane," says he, with a voice like a dying swan, "will you splice ?" Sbe turned toward him, clawed her hands, had an attack of the heaves and blind staggers, and with a sigh that brought her shoe strings to her throat, said "Yarn I" She gave out and squatted in his—lap and he hugged her till he burst his muslin sus. penders. NO. 88.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers