The Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1871-1904, November 30, 1877, Image 1

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    VOL. 41.
The Huntingdon Journal.
J. R. DURBORROW, -
PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS.
Office in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street.
THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every
Friday by J. It. DCHBOESOW and J. A.. NASH, under
the firm name of J. B. Dusty/snow & Co., at $2,00 per
annum IN ADVANCE, or $2.50 if not paid for in sea months
from date of subscription, and fa if not :aid within the
year.
No paper discontinued, unless at U.'s option of the pub
lishers, until all arrearagee are paid.
No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless
absolutely paid for in advance.
Transient advertisements will be inserted at. Twunvz
AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first insertais,
AND A-HALF curs for the second and rtes calm per line
for all subsequent insertions.
Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements
will be inserted at the following rates
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Legal and other notices will be c. arged to the party
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Advertising Agents must find their commission .. .outside
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AU advertising accounts are due and eollectabl
when the advertisement is once inserted.
JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors,
done with neatness and dispatch. nand-bills, Minks
Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every variety and style,
printed
at the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing
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the lowest rates.
Professional Cards•
"ri CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street.
11. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods It Wil
liamson. [ap13.71
TIP.. A.B. BRUMBAIIGII, offers his professional sarrices
1) to thecommnnity. Office, No .d 23 Washington street,
m
one door east of the Catholic Parao_ge. fjan4,7l
E.C. C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's
U. building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. &
J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '76.
GEO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn '. l treet,
Huntingdon, Pa. [novll ,"t6
a L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown'e new bnildi
No. 520, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2.7'
TT C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, PM,
11. Street, Huntingdon, Pa.
I FRANKLIN SCHOCK, Attorney-at-Law Hunting
.) • don, Pa. Prompt attention given to alle busi
ness. Office, 229 Penn Street, corner of Court !louse
Square. 004,12
T SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon,
. Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd
Street. Dan4,'7l
JW. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Lew and Genera/ Claim
. Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the
Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and
pensions attended to with great cure and promptness. 31.-•
fce on Penn Street. Ljan4,l t
JS. 0 EISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
JLI. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. Z3O Penn Street, oppo-
site Court Ilo.e. Lfebb,l/.
4„;:i E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hunt:nem, Pa.,
office in -Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
and careful attention given to all legal busittetut
[angs,74-limo.
WILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law Ranting
don, Pa. Special attention given to Law,
and all other legal business attendad to with Ors sod
prouiptneas. Office, No. 229, Penn Street. Ta 10,71
School and Miscellaneous Books.
GOOD BOOKS
FOR THE
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
_
The following is a list of Valuable Books, which wall lw
supplied from the Office of the Hm.tingdon
y_ane or more of these books will Je sentpesSpaid to
any of our readers on receipt of the regular price, which
is named against each book.
Allen's (It. L. & L. F.) New Amerf,sm Farm Book $2 50
Allen's (L. F.) American Cattle.*
Allen's (ELL.) American Farm Book.. ........ ...... 1 50
Al ea's (L. F.) Rural Architecture
Allen's (it. L.) Diseases of Domestic Animals 1 OU
American Bird Fancier 3O
American Gentleman's Stable Guide* ...... ....... 100
American Rose Cnlturist
American Weeds and Useful Plants.—__ ............ 1 75
Atwood's Country and Suburban Houses 1 50
Atwood's Modern American 'lomesteads* 3 50
Baker's Practical and Scientific Fruit Culture*____ 2 60
1 75
2 60
Barry's Fruit Garden
Belie Carpentry Made Rasy* —....... ..... ...... - b - 00
Bement's Rabbit Fancier 3O
Bicknell's Village Builder and Supplement. 1 Vol.- 12 00
Supplement to Village ..... „ 6 00
Bogardus' Field Cover, and Trap Shootings.-- ...... 2 0 0
Bommer's Method f Making Manures.-- . 23
Bouseingault's Rural Economy ...... ...... 160
Brackett's Farm Tnlk-s paper, kicts.; c10th.... 75
Breck's New Book of Flowers 1 75
Brill's Farm-Gardening and Seed-Growlag....--
Broom-Corn and Brooms paper, bOcts.; cloth 75
Brown's Taxidermist's Manuals ..........».„... 1 00
Bruckner's American hianuress . 1 50
Buchanan's Culture of the Orapeand Wine makings T 5
Buel'e Cider-Maker's Manuals ................ .1 60
Buiet's Flower-Garden Directory,.„,,,,.,„ 1 00
Buist's Family Kitchen Gardener.
Burges' American Kennel and Sporting Fields..- loo
Burnham's The China Fowls 1 00
Burn's Architectural Drawing Books ........ ..... 1 00
Burns' Illustrated Drawing Books 1 00
Barns' Ornamental Drawing 800k5.............- ..... 100
Burr's Vegetables of America►
800
Caldwell'agricultural Chemical Analysis —..100
Canary Birds. Paper 50 cts Cloth 75
lilssaallep's Grape-Grower's Guide 76
Cleveland's Landscape Achitectures
I -60
Clok's Diseases of Sheep* ............... ..—... - 2 -25
Cobbett's American Gardener.. .. .....
Cole's American Fruit Book II
Cole's American Veterinarian - 43
Cooked and Cooking Food for Domestic Animals SO
Cooper's Game Fowls. 6 ito
Corbett's Poultry Yard and Market*pa.socts., cloth 15
Croft's Progressive American Architecture* 10 00
Cummings' Architectural Details ... lO 00
Cummings & Miller's Architecture* .. X 0 00
Cupper's Universal Stair-Builder 3 50
Dadd's Modern Horse Doctor, 12 mo 1 60
Dadd's American Cattle Doctor, 12 mo 1 50
Dadd's American Cattle Doctor, Bvo, cloth* 25 0
Dadd's American Reformed Horse Book, 8 vo, cloth* 2 50
Dada's Muck Manual i 25
Darwin's Variations of Animals A Plants. 2 vole*
[new ed.)
Dead Shot ; or, Sportsman's Complete Guide* ...... - 1 75
Detail Cottage and Constructive Architecture*....-- 10 00
De Toe's Market Assistant* 2 60
Dinka, Mayhew, and Hutchison, on the Dog* 3OO
Downing'. Landscape Gardening .... . .
Dwyer's Horse 800k5... ...... ....- ............
Eastwood on Cranberry 75
Eggleston's Circuit Rider* 1 75
Eggleston's End of the World 1 60
Egglestou's Hoosier School-Master 1 26
Eggleston's Mystery of Metropolisville 1 50
Egglest , sn's (Geo. C.) A Man of Honor ...- ....... 1 25
Elliott's Hand Book for Fruit Growerst Pa., 60c.; clo. 1 00
Elliott's Hand-Book o I Practical Landscape Gar
dening*. e...
_
~ ~ l5O
Elliott's Lawn and Shade Trees* 1 50
E liott's Western Fruit-Grower's Guide. ..... - .....
Eveleth's School House Architecture*...„
Every Horse Owner's Cyclopsedias . - 375
Field's Pear Culture 1 25
Flax Culture. [Seven Prise Essays by practical grow
ere.]
Flint (Charles L.) on Grasses* 2 50
—Bliot:6 Mitch Cows and Dairy Farming* 2 50
Frank Forester's American Game in lte Seasons 3 00
Frank Forester's Field Sports, 8 vo., 2 vole•- 6OO
Frank Foresters Fish and Fishing, Bvo., 100.Kages 3 50
Frank Forester's Horse of America, 8 vo., 2 vole' lO 00
Frank Forester's Manual for Young Sportsmen, Bvo 3 00
French's Farm Drainage
Fuller's Forest-Tree Culturist.......- ..... .....
Fuller's Grape Culturist . 150
Fuller's Illustrated Strawberry Culturist 2O
Fuller's Small Fruit Culturist 1 53
Fulton's Peacb Culture
Gardner's Carriage Painters' Manual * 1 00
Gardner's How to Paints
Geyelin'e Poultry-Breeding
Gould's American Stair-Builder's.
Gould's Carpenter's and Builder'. Assistant s 3,/ 0
Gregory on Cabbages paper.. 30
Gregory on Onion Raising*....„.,,paper.. 30
Gregory on Squashes „ ... . paper- 30
Quenon on Milch Cows
Guillanme's Interior Architecture* 8 00
Gun, Rod, and Saddles 1 00
Hallett's Builders' Specifications* 1 75
Hallett's Builders' Contracts* lO
Harney's Barns, Out-Buildings, and Fences'....... _-
6 00
Harris's Insects Injurious to Vegetation... Plain 14 ;
Colored Engravings 650
Harris on the Pig
Hedges' on Sorgho or the Northern Sugar Plants- 1 60
Hehusley's Hardy Trees, Shrubs, and Plants* ......
Ilenderson's Gardening for Pleasure- .-
Henderson Gardening for Profit 1 50
Henderson's Practical Floriculture 1 50
Herbert's Hints to Horse-Keepers 1 75
Holden's Book of Birds ...paper 25c.; cloth. 50
Hooper's Book of Evergreens 8 00
Hooper's Dog and Gun paper 30c.; ; cloth 6O
Hooper' Western Fruit Books 1 50
Hop Culture. By nine experienced cultivators 3O
How to get a Farm and Where to find One 1 25
Husmanu's Grapes and Wine* 1 60
Hussey's Home Buildings*
Hussey's National Cottage Architecture 6 00
Jeep:lo.'B Manual of the Garden, Farm acid Barn
yard* ......... ...... ... ........ ...... 1 75
Jennings on Cattle and their Diseases* 1 75
Jennings' Horse Training Made Easy. 1 25
Jennings on the Horse and his Diseases. 1 75
Jennings on Sheep, Swine, and P0u1try5......... ....... 1 75
Jersey, Alderney, and Guernsey C0w*.....
John Andreas (Rebecca Harding Davis) 1 50
Johnson's Hew Crepe Feed
Johniou's How -Greve Gr0w......... ............... ...
Johneon'i Peat a*d Its pies i.... ...-- ... . .....
Johns:oos • PlopiStrl,....- 175
Johnnie:l ..1.4"• SOW alemietry, 1 50
ern'.
neetimpi ft lis _
_Clefdokilie 1 60
wh i e s r 40c.........e10th 75
ilippaitli - Itheirliatliev.,...-...., ..... .................-... 1 75
Lakey's Vita& and OotnrarillOUSEC .. OOO
Leavitt's Facia about Nato— —...-..... 1 75
Leuchar's Hoer to bunt! If ceMeasew -- • ---- 1 50
Lewis' Peopli'm Practical Pc, - -- - , era l5O
Long's American Wild Fowl
Failltrfltoiepee..
Shootine 2OO
_
Tothant.---
Loring's Farm-Yard Club ofJc 3 60
Loth's Practical Stair Builder. lO 09
Lyman's Cotton Culture 1 GO
Manual of Flax Culture*
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
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A SP
ICIAL'
Ely j i .i uses' *intr.
BY the River.
Oh, how can you ask me to stay
In a valley of weeping like this?
There is rest even now for the suffering clay;
I can see from the brink of the river, to-day,
The regions of infinite bliss.
Life's wearisome journey is o'er,
The time of departure has come ;
And the eyes of fond watchers shall see me no more,
Till they gaze into mine, on yon far away shore,
When we meet in our beautiful home.
And yet I shall often be near,
Though my term you shall never descry;
My footsteps so noiseless, no mortal may, hear,
Not the rustling of wings shall disturb any ear,
To tell that a spirit is nigh.
In your night time of pain I shall stand
By your couch, as you stand by me now,
And in dreams, when you feel the soft touch of my
hand,
You will think the cool breezes of heaven have
fanned
Your aching and feverish brow.
And oft in your loneliest hours
I shall come in low whispers of love,
To turn your sad thoughts to the evergreen bowers,
The roses and lilies, and sweet-scented flowers
That bloom in the Eden above.
Where friends and companions of old •
With angels are walking in white,
In the land afar off, rich with glories unteld,
Where the ransomed the "King in His beauty" be
hold—
Immortality shrouded in light !
How strange that we mortals so cling
To earth life, and dread so to die!
The monster is vanquished and robbed of his sting,
And death is a solemnly glorious thing,
A gateway to mansions on high.
Then ark me no longer to stay
In a country of sorrow 1 ke this;
I am ready to cross the deep Jordan to day ;
The immortal is longing to break from its clay,
And mount to the dwellings of bliss.
*tort-'(tlltr.
CUNNING SCHEMES ;
- OR, -
.A. CRITSOM FOR I,o'Sr.
BY CAPT. CHARLES HOWARD
--4-+
The clocks of a great American city
were striking the hour of six one cold No
vember night, when two men alighted
from a carriage and entered a cosy office
room, on the second floor of a pretentious
building.
One might have been dubbed a sailor,
by his tell-tale gait, the other, richly clad,
looked like "a man of the world." He
was his companion's junior by ten years.
The gas was burning faintly in the office
which they invaded, and a hand, incased
in an elegant glove, turned the full blaze
on.
Take a seat, captain," he said to he
man of the sea, and the party addressed
dropped awkwardly into an arm-chair, near
a green baize table.
"Did I understand you to say you sail
at daybreak ?" the young man asked anx
iously. "You know, captain, that this is an
affair that must be carried on with much
secrecy and dispatch."
"Certainly; I have taken the proper
bearings. Only insure my cargo. That is
all I ask, Mr. Hollam."
James Hollam, the wealthy young law
yer, smiled, and looked pleased at the
speaker.
"The cargo can be on board the Prince
ton by twelve to night," he said.
"That will do. Have you any amend
ments to the instructions which you gave
yesterday ?"
"None; I still consider them perfect.
The success of the scheme devolves upon
yourself, captain."
"Then rest easy concerning it. I ask but
a good voyage, and I will make a Robinson
Crusoe of him."
The Island ? Where is it, captain ? Or
have you decided upon a sketch of main
land ?"
The captain of the Princeton did not
reply, but drew a dingy-looking roll from
his pocket and spread it out upon the ta
ble.
Tf was a chart drawn by some clumsy
band, but forcible and distinct.
"There !" said the captain, almost cov
ering a crochety island with his finger,
"there is his prison. A man could live
there for forty years without seeing a hu
man face." .
James Hollam's face lit up with exulta
tion. ,
"What do you call it ?" he asked,glanc
ing up at the weather-beaten man.
"It has a name, I believe. The natives
on the mainland have dubbed it Qugueech,
which means, as well as I can translate
their gibberish, "The Land of the Bad
Spirits." They never visit it, and a pris
oner within its confines cannot escape by
swimming."
"What does it produce ?"
Fruits of many kinds. Wild goats in-
habit the hills,serpents whose bite is death,
crawl through its little jungles, and a fierce
species of the puma roam from shore to
shore."
"A terrible place 1" said James Hollarn,
with a shudder. "But it seems to suit my
purpose."
"The very place for him," said the sail
or with a smile. "lie may be a Crusoe
until he dies, and no man will ever find his
bones."
"Are you sure that no ships touch the
island ?"
"I am quite sure ! for very many years
it has had the reputation of being haunted.
If you are fearful, I will drop him on the
mainland."
"No, no ! The island by all means !" said
Hollam quickly. "I am quite willing to
risk him there."
The captain folded the chart and return
ed it to his pocket, after which he helped
himself to some choice wine which the law
yer had placed on the table.
"I have been wondering about this af
fair of ours," said the sailor, settling back
into the luxurious chair, and looking at
the young scion of a wealthy house. "So
you know that I am going to sail at day
break with the strange passengers, and I
trust you will overlook my inquisitiveness.
Shiver my timbers if I can penetrate the
fog which lies dead before me. May I
ask you something about this man, this
Mr.-"
tt
G
pi
a
pi
co
...
•I'll hand you his name in a sealed en
velope, which you are not to open until
you are at sea," said the lawyer. "I am not
bound to tell you anything about him ; but
since we have got along so well together, I
might venture upon the grounds of my se
cret."
Mainsail, the ship's captain, bowed ob
sequiously,and crossing his brown hands on
the green baize.
"This man is my enemy," James foil
am said lowering his voice. "He stands
between me and position, wealth, and, what
is more valuable, captain, the heart and
hand of the faiaest woman in this great
city."
"A love affair after all," grinned the old
HUNTING-DON, PA , FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1877.
salt. "I could have wagered my anchor
that a pair of bright eyes were at the bot
tom of the matter. He stands between you
and the eyes, Mr. Hollam ?"
"Between me and her heart. I do not
care that for eyes !" and the speaker snap
ped his fingers. "I cannot rise without
possessing her, and I swear to you that,
laying all my ambition aside, I still love
her passionately. I would do anything to
gain her heart. No ! I would not commit
murder."
"But you would send your rival to Qu.
gueech island !" laughed the sailor.
'Just so—no more than that," was the
reply. "I do not think that he knows
that I love that one woman—therefore, he
will not know from whence the blow comes.
With him beyond my path, victory is as
sured."
"Then you can rejoice, for I will see that
be never returns."
"Mark you, captain," said Hollam,
touching the sailor's arm. "No violence
sir. Ido not want a drop of his blood
shed."
"I understand. From this night his
name with us must be linked with that of
Qugueech."
James Hollam did not reply. He seemed
to sound the depths of the sea captain's
sentence, and for a moment they paled his
cheek. But wine brought the color back
again ; and when the pair went down the
steps, and out into the cold wind, each had
an unsteady gait, and the city clocks were
striking nine.
They walked together until they reached
a street which extended to the dock. Then
Hollam held out his hand.
"I won't see you till you return," he
said as Mainsail swallowed the hand in his
'Mad palm. "Good-bye, captain. Do your
duty. 'Tis all I ask."
"I never do less ; I cannot do more,"
was the reply, and the next minute they
turned their backs upon each other.
Buttoning the uppermost button of his
chinchilla coat so as to keep the cold wind
from his throat, James Hollam walked rap
idly down the almost deserted street. He
had drawn his heavy hat over his face un
til little of it was visible, and his actions
seemed to indicate that he did not court
recognition.
He was well-known throughout the city
as a young man of means, one of the favor
ite beaux of society, and a lawyer of bril
liant promise. Few among his intimate
acquaintances were aware that he had fal
len blindly in love with Agatha Gorham,
the belle of the wealthy and fashionable
Circles of society. The young lawyer kept
his passion to himself, until he discovered
that a rival stood boldly in the path that
led to the beauty's heart. He had learned
at the club rooms that Ford Wiugfold was
a frequent visitor at Ore Gorham house; but
he did not open his eyes to the importance
of the calls.
He lived on, worshiping the radiant. wo-.
man, and believing that his little atten
tions were drawing her gradually to his
side. She was wealthy, and commanded,
position. Through her he could step into
fame without long study at the bar. Thus .
he thought, and thus from day to day he.
reared his fairy chateaux en Espagne.
But the discovery came at last, as it
was doomed to come. He awakened, as,
it were, from the rapturous bliss of his
dreams, and found Ford Wingfuld, the pro-,
fessional tourist, about to snatch the prize
away. At first the anger of a moment got
the best of his manhood, and he resolved
that his rival should not live to win the
battle ; but he listened to calmer, but cun
ning reason.
He could meet the world—his own
dy, fashionable world—with calm exterior ;
for to it he had never confessed his adora•
tion of the voluptuous beauty. He would .
strike Ford Wingfold secretly, but none
the less surely, and then he would go on
and win the prize.
In the person of Captain Mainsail, as .
the reader has just seen, he found an apt
tool. He would not spill a drop of his
blood; but he would consign him to an
island which was never touched by a
white man's foot. And there the hapless
tourist might end his days, Crusoe-like,
among the goats, dreaming dreams that
maddened him in the night, and thinking
till he raved through the day.
We left James Hollam walking rapidly
down the 'street, while Captain Mainsail
was hurrying towards the dock where his
gig rocked on the waves.
All at once the lawyer baited and gazed
at the vehicle that was approaching. Its
wheels were revolving with great rapidity,
for the horses were galloping fast. The
curtains were closely drawn, and twilight
of the inmates could be obtained. But it
was the man on the seat that attracted the
lawyer's attention. His face was muffled;
but a flash of recognition lit up Hollainl
eyes, and whm he saw the coachnian's
hand lifted as if to deliver a preconcerted
signal, an exclamation of triumph unheard
by any cars awe his own, parti-d his
lips.
The carriage turned into the street that
ended at the foot of the dock, and James
Hollam watched it until it receded - from
his sight.
"So far, good !" he said, as he started on
again. "Good-bye, Ford Wingfold.. I
will think of you in your distant home:—
Bon voyage, tuy dear friend."
He knew th a t his rival was in that close
curtained carriage, for the coachman had
signaled him to that effect.
Flushed with anticipated success, the
plotting attorney pursued his way, planning
for the future, and at last he reached the
elegant apartments which he inhabited.
lie toasted his feet before the ruddy
fire, quaffed a glass of his favorite night
wine and retired to dream of the victim of
his wires,
who was being conveyed on board
the brig Princeton in a state of stupefac
tion.
* * * * *
Captain Nainsal fulfilled his contract to
the letter.
One day a ship came to anchor_ near a
little island which lay like a tropical gem
not far from the coast of Madagascar. The
vessel bore the American colors from the
mizzen peak, and was a stately and beauti
ful craft. After awhile a boat put off from
her side and pulled for the island.
With the exception of a single individual
the occupants of the boat were sailors.
The exception was a handsome but care
worn man who sat in the stern of the craft
with eyes fastened upon the ship. He was
dressed like and carried the manners of a
gentleman, but did not speak except in re
ply to the boatswain, who occasionally ad
dressed him.
The boat at last touched the shore, and
the strange man rose. He stood erect with
folded arms, while the man unloaded several
small chests, a gun, some ammunition and
a good-sized tent. He watched these pro
ceedings without a word, and stepped
ashore at a sign from the boatswain.
"Good-bye, Mr. Victor," said that worthy
extending his hand.
"Victor ?" said the other, with a smile
"Mr. Victor is dead now. That is not my
name."
The sailors exchanged looks of wonder
ment which made the boatswain very
anxious to part with their late passenger.
"Good-bye, then," the last speaker con
tinued. "This is to be my borne forever,
I suppose. lam to 'oe this island's Sel
kirk. Well, if God wills it so, good. I
shall not murmur; but I would that I
could stretch my hand across the waste of
water that lies between this place and my
home. Mr. Arthur, do you know whose
pork this is ?"
"I don't know anything," was the reply,
and the boatswain stepped into the boat.
"I am simply doing my duty, as I learn it
from the captain."
"I do not blame you, Mr. Arthur," the
exile said. "But I want you to know that
I know who sends me to this tropical prison.
James Hollam !"
Mr. Arthur, the boatswain, did not
answer, but gave commands for the boat to
return to the ship, and waved the exile—
Ford Wingfold—good-bye.
The little craft gradually receded from
the lone watcher's sight, and at last reached
the vessel.
Night speedily came down upon the
island, and the victim of man's wiles,
longed, with biting eagerness, for the dawn.
When it came he cast his eyes heaven
ward, but no ship met his vision.
The Princeton was gone !
Days and weeks passed wearily to Ford
Wingfold, the Cruso for love. By degrees
he became reconciled to his fate, and at
the end of a year wore garments fashioned
from the skins of the wild goats which he
had brought down with his gun.
But a strange adventure occurred to him
ooe day. It gave a new shape to his
destiny.
Whilst cooing his morning meal, he
was suddenly thrown to the ground by some
one from behind, and almost before he
could recover from his confusion was lashed
to a tree. Then he discovered that he had
fallen into the company of a number of
dark-skinned and hideous looking men,
who carried war clubs, shields and spears,
and were almost naked.
They uttered words entirely unintelligi
ble to the exile, would approach him in a
threatening man ner,and laugh demoniacally
at his white face.
Ford Wingfold did not stop to wonder
where the dreadful fellows had come thin.
Ile felt that his life was in jeopardy,
and e i xpeeted to be brained by the knotty
war-clubs, or transfixed by the long spars
But he was suddenly torn from the tree,
dragged to a boat and carried from the
island amid the exultant shouts of his
captors.
The captivity of Ququeech land had ended
at last; but the exile did not know that he
was nut to die at the hands of the super
stitious tenants of the coast of Madagascar.
*•* * * *
"Aqd, after all, you have rejected him,
Agatha?"
"I have,: father, I could not love him.
You know where my heart is."
"Your heart ? Ido not think that you
possess one."
. The -proud and beautiful Agatha Gor
ham did not answer her father, but turned,
wounded, from his pitiless sneer.
"I thought you would marry Mr. flol
lam, and blot out your unfortunate affair
with Wingfold," the old man said making
his words keen by emphasis. "What is
going to become of you ?"
"If he comes back I am going to marry
him I"A.gatha answered firmly.
"If he comes back ?" echoed Mark Gor
ham.
,"Suppose he never comes back ?"
"Then I'll never wed. There !"
"You're a stubborn daughter, Agatha !"
.the father.s . aid; rising in his anger and
scratching his scrawny hands as he gazed
into his child's face. "For a dollar I
would cut you off and throw you into the
street. But no ! lam your father. Listen
to reason, and-"
"And marry-James Hollam ?"
"That is not asking too much."
"1 have told him that I would not. I
never will." •
For a moment longer Mark Gorham
I continued to regard his daughter, then he
Attrned"suddenly.on his heel, and, mutter
ing incoherent words, strode madly from
the room.
. Many months had passed since Ford
Wingfold's forcible abduction, and his
.whereabouts .had not been discovered. His
absence was unaccou - table to the belles
and beaux of the circles in which he moved,
and not a few thought that be had left of
his own accord, to get rid of Agatha.
~ .co
' This was a cruel suspicion, harbored by
some to whom Agatha's belledom had be
ma-distiateful. But the beauty herself
Cliiii tor.th:e lOVe-she bad borne him, and,
hoping - forlds return, saw' the tong days
roll_ drearily away.
James liollam entered his office one
nrning.in.no good humor.
_Rumors of
. rejection by Agatha had already reached
• Lae ears of his friends, and he found him
self placed in an unenviable light.
"Curie the busy bodies ! They'll have
it all over the city before they stop !" he
exclaimed, as he• picked up the Herald,
and flung himself into an arm chair.
Thgri - lis - eyes ran over the page before
him until-he suddenly sprang to his feet
with the whitest face ever seen in the room.
"Coming home ! coming back to send
me to the penitentiary I" he cried. "What
in the'tiame of fate can this mean ? -A
cable dispatch ! It must be correct !"
Calming himself, which was no easy
task, the schemer Yead the following brief
dispatch. from Liverpool:
"The steamer Rutland sailed for New
York to day, carrying as passenger Mr.
Ford Wingfold, the well-known American
tourist,_- whose mysterious disappearance
from American society created much com
ment at the time. It turns out that he
had been abducted by act enemy. Ilia
ad
ventures have bean strange and thrilling."
James Hallam crushed the paper iu his
hand when he finished the paragraph.
"Well, I've lost! It was a pretty game,
but somebody has spoiled it. Agatha Gor
ham, you were a prize worth contending
for, and I was a fool to think that I could
win you from Ford Wingfold. I wonder
if be has any evidence against me. Captain
Mainsail threatened to expose me because
I refuse to listen to his exorbitant demands
for money. Taking everything into con
sideration I think my safety , lies beyond
the limits of this city.
The plotter saved himself by flight, and
put an ocean between himself and the man
he had so deeply wronged.
But he did not remain unscathed. Cap
tain Mainsail,"his tool, met him in Paris,
and administered a castigation with his
brawny hands which the villain remembers
to this day.
Ford Wingfold returned to New York,
the lion of the day, and wedded the beauti
ful belle whose love had not deserted him
a single moment during his terrible exile.
(stlect PisteJiang.
Rise and Fall of the Land.
Occasionally the fluctuations of land may
be exemplified to an extent which could
hardly be expected, a fact well illustrated
by the case of the Temple of Jupiter Ser
apis at Puzzuoli, on the Bay of Naples.
This temple,now in ruins, dates from a very
ancient period,three marble pillars remain•
in to mark the extent of what was once a
,„,gnificient pile of buildings. Half way
up these pillars the marks of boring shell
fish are seen ; some burrcws formed by
these mollusks still containing the shells
by means of which they were excavated.
At the present time the sea level is at the
very base of the pillars, or exists even be
low that site. Hence arises the natural
question—" How did the shell fish gain
access to the pillars, to burrow into them
in the manner described ?" Dismissing as
an irrelevant and impossible idea that of
the mollusks being able to ascend the dry
pillars' two suppositions remain. Either
the pillars and temple must have gone
down to the sea through the subsidence of
the land, or the sea must have come up to
the pillars. If the latter theory be enter
tained, the sea level must be regarded as
having of necessity altered its level all
along the Bay of Naples and along the
Mediterranean coasts. And as this inun
dation would have occurred within the
historic period, we would expect not only
to have had some record preserved to us of
the calamity, but we should also have been
able to point to distinct and ineffaceable
traces of sea-action on the adjoining coasts.
There is however, no basis whatever for
this supposition. No evidence is forth
coming that any such rise of the sea ever
took place ; and hence we are fbrced to
conclude that the subsidence or sinking of
the land contains the only rational expla
nation of the phenomena. We had thus
a local sinking of land taking place at
Puzzuoli. The old temple was gradually
submerged ; its pillars were buried beneath
the waters of the sea, and the boring mol
lusks of the adjacent seabed fixed on the
pillars as a habitation, and bored their way
into the stone. Then a second geological
change supervened. The action of subsi
dence was exchanged for one of elevation ;
and the temple and its pillars gradually
rose from the sea, and attained their pres
ent level, while the stone boring fish
were left to die in their homes. The sur
rounding neighborhood—that of Vesuvius
—is the scene of constant change and al
teration in land level ; and the incident is
worth recording, if only to show how the
observation of the apparently trifline la
bors of shell fish serves to substantiate a
grave and important chapter in the history
of the earth.— Chamber' s Journal.
A Daring Scout.
The hero of the following article is a
native of Middletown, Dauphin county,
this State. He kept a hotel in Chambers
burg many years ago, and was then noted
for his jovial disposition. From there he
went to Montana and soon evinced the
boldness and daring which have since dis
tinguished him as one of the chief agents
and workers of the Vigilance Committee.
He soon became a terror of evil-doers, and
many of his thrilling exploits have a large
space in Col. McClure's book of travels in
that region, published a few years ago, and
of whom he was a guest when he visited
Philadelphia in 1575.
Amon.' t' the wounded in Gibbon's fight
with the Nez Perces was the General's fa•
mous scout, Beidler, known far and wide
as the most daring scout in the mountains.
It was he who piloted Conners in the freez•
ing cold of a Utah winter up the Bear riv
er valley to the encampment of the Snakes,
and enabled him to gain his remarkable
victory over the savages. It was he who
tracked the Piegans into the Teton moun
tains and marked out the route which Ba
ker's column pursued when he surprised
Long horse's band in the gray dawn of a
winter's morning and literally swept them
from the face of the earth. He followed
Gibbon last year to the Yellowstone, and
trackel for him a pathway across the Big
Horn mountains up to the scene of the
Custer massacre, and when no one would
volunteer to carry dispatches back to Fort
Ellis, through a country swarming with
Sioux, and Gibbon was about to order his
nephew upon the hopeless errand, Beidler
offered his services, and succeeded in his
task. He is a man of forty, stout and
grizzled, but with a tender mouth, a voice
as sweet as a woman's, a delicate hand and
other romantic accessories to heroes of
western adventure. When not on duty as
a scout he can generally be frund around
Helena; at night invariably in newspaper
offices reading the exchanges and listening
eagerly to the news of the great outside
world, which he has not seen fbr twenty
years. _ -
Mothers.
"I shall never forget," said Kant, in his
old age, "that it was my mother who caus
ed to fructify the good which is in my
soul." Cavier, it is said, attributes to his
mother all the pleasure of his studies and
the glory of his discoveries. "I used to
draw under her superintendence, and read
aloud books of history and general litera
ture. It is thus that she developed in me
that love of reading and that curiosity fur
all things which were the spring of my
life " Byron's mother, a woman "full of
caprice and pride, whose narrow mind was
only expanded by vanity, hatred and re,
venge, who pitilessly made a jest of the
natural infirmity of her child," engrafted
in his heart her corrosive passions, and
made his life a curse to himself and to
others, despite his genius. Lamartine,
over whose cradle was shed the light of a
tender m, theta's love, under her tuition
developed that genius (a spark of which is
said to be implanted in every soul) until it
resembles incense, the perfumes of which
are diffused over the earth ; but which
burns only fur heaven." It has been said
"Good teachers make good scholars, but it
is only mothers that form men." Rather
should it be said—lt is only mothers (or
women with mother hearts) who possess
the power of inspirine that love of virtue
and knowledge which, when once establish
ed in the soul, enables a man to "mould
his own material, quarry his own nature,
and make his own character" what it
should; for this is a work that no one can
do for him.—Home Journal.
A CONTEMPORARY tells of a young man
who woke up the other night and saw a
ghost in his room. Seizing his six-shooter,
he appaoached it and found it was his col
lar which was standing on the floor. He
calls it a case of collar in phantom.
RATHER ligneous weather—sticky, you
know.
Wonder Who t'he're For?
My ma's been working very bard ;
And also very sly,
And keeps her sewing out of sight
Whenever I am nigh.
I asked her once what made her stop
Her work when I came in ;
She said she only stopped to get
A needle, thread or pin.
The bureau drawer next to mine
13 locked both eight and day,
And when ma wants to open it
She send me off to play.
1 stole a peep one afternoon,
Although it was not right ;
But, oh I the little things I saw
Were such a pretty sight I
The cutest, nicest little clothes—
Just big enough for doll ;
But then I know they're not for her—
She needs them not at all.
I know they're not for ma nor pa,
Nor n e nor brother "Her,"
For we can't wear such little clothes ;
I wonder who they're for
Dart's [or the Baciielors.
Don't think you are p-.:rforming your
full duty in this world when you pull your
self into your shell and waddle around like
a mad turtle.
Don't think that out of the millions of
women who perambulate this globe there
isn't one gJod enough to be , 6zir wife.
Don't think if you resolve to lead your
turtle life that any of these millions will
hanker after you so badiy that she will go
gouging: down in the mu' for you.
Don't think you escape the greatest ills
of life by "going it alone." J-st think of
having to talk to yourself wh,a you want
an appreciative audience, and sewing on
your own buttons and darning your own
socks.
Don't think Adam wouldn't have gone
into the apple business if' he had lived an
old bachelor. Ile engaged in that during
his courting days and never amounted to
much until he married, settled down and
went to work.
Don't think because he had a little
trouble in his family and raised a bad boy
that you run the saute risk. They didn't
have any houses of reformation to put boys
into then,or penitentiaries. They have no .
DOn't think you will live in the memory
of posterity much if you pass through life
like aO. When you are gone there will
be no one 'co sigh for you. The best way
to keep your name an I nieuiory afloat
leave halt' a dozen rattling boys who will
make "Route howl" in the neighborhood,
give the police something to du, and keep
your name prominently before the public.
Don't think you are happy because you
don't have to listen to infantile nocturnal
solos and orchestras. You have ueverthe
less, to listen to that cat concert on the
back shed and contribute your bo-es to it.
in spite of yourself'.
Don't think you would'ut enjoy having a
winiature:edition of yourself gouging your
eyes, pulling your whiskers, and daubing
candy, etc., all. over your hair It's just
next to going to the circus
Don't think you can't "afford" to marry
and assume the responsibilities incident
thereto. You will find your present ex
penses quite sufficient therefq, provided
you marry a woman who has 'more sense
than you have,
Don't think you will necessarily .. h i ve to
"take care" of the wife you marry. — ln
eight cases out of ten if' wives didn't, by
their better sense, "take cure" of their
husbands they would go to the d—uce.
Don't be prowling around like a bear
escaped from a menagerie, expecting that
some enterprising woman will turn up and
take you in. As a general rule they don't
do it in that way.
Don't waddle around until you turn gray
and then expect some gushing girl to open
a hospital and take you in as her special
ward for the sake of wearing your name
and what li little property you may have. •
Don't fool. Come down to business.
Take you full part in life. Take some sis
ter in out of the cold. Wash your face,
brush your teeth, pare your finger nails,
dust up your wardrobe, set your eye on
some girl with a level head and go straight
for her. It' you mean business, and are a
clever fellow,she'll meet you about halfway.
Prophecy Respecting the End of the
World.
A London letter says : Prophets are
going about casting the horoscope of the
empires. At Manchester this week Rev.
M Baxter expounded and interpreted the
prophecies in the books of Daniel and Zach
ariab. The fourteenth chapter of Zacha
riah, refers, he said, to the coming of
Christ, who will shortly appear bodily ou
the Mount of Olivet and confluence his
thousand years' reign upon earth. Anti
christ would be a man like Jerome Nal»•
leon, who on promises of peace will rise up
from a nobody into a great king, the mon
arch referred to in Daniel 36. The
abomination of this rule will only last three
years and a half. In that time he will
conquer the world and make a seven years
covenant with the Jews. When half that
period is at an end, the great Antichrist is
to surround Jerusalem and then will ensue
the battle or Armageddon, and it will take
seven months to clear away the mountains
of dead bodies that will be heaped up in
the conflict. Armageddon will be the Se
dan of Antichrist. It is quite possible that
Prince Jerome Napoleon will be Antichrist
The yeur Prince at Chiselhurst . is to
come to the r French throne under Uhra
montane influences and he will restore the
Napoleonic dynasty. Out of the present
war and a coming war between France and
Germany will arise the ten kingdoms
which formed Caesar Augustus's Roman
Empire. It is then that the great Anti
christ will appear—the little horn—the
sovereign of some little State either in
Turkey or Syria. If Cardinal Lucien
Bonaparte becomes the next Pope, (which
Rev. Mr. Baxter believes is settled,) that
event will hasten and bring to pass the im
mediate development of these prophecies.
They will certainly be realized within the
next few years, as Christ is almost due,
when 144,000 christmns will be translated,
and there will be more conversions to the
truth in one generation than have been
made in 6,000 years. It is curious that
these prophets,
(who by the way are be
lieved by vast bodies of English religion
ists,) generally leave America out of their
calculations, but no doubt there are proph
ets in the United States who get even by
omitting Europe from their predictions.
Whatever we may think of this preaching
and prophesying, it is quite phenominal
taken in connection with the wars and ru
mors of wars, the wonders in the heavens,
the marvelous inventions of men, the
strange discoveries, and all the extraordin
ary awakenin g s,wonders and horrors of the
days in which we live.
ALL sects are different, because they
come from men ; morality is everywhere
the same, because it comes from God.
For the JOURNAL.]
Marriage,
HOW TO CHOOSE A PARTNER FOR LIFE--
BACHELORS OLD AND ROUE.
We wonder what would have become of the
world had it taken the advice of Hamlet to
Ophelia, "We will have no more marriages,"
and also that other command of the• Danish
Prince to his forlorn and forsaken affianced,
"Get thee to a nunnery." Well it is not say
ing too much to assert, without fear of con
tradiction, that had both these injunctions
been strictly adhered to, the world would have
ceased to exist, or rather the people in it, and
this majestic globe of our would only be in
habited, humanely speaking, by the apes and
Lionkeys, of which, according to Darwin's
theory, we are only a more elevated species.
This theory, to be sure, may shock the nerves
of our "swells" and "belles," and they would
no doubt feel anything but cotnplimsnied by
Mr. Darwin's apeish ideas ; but our purpose
to-day is not to discuss the origin of the hu
man family, but rather to dilate, for a short
time, on the all important topic of
MARRIAGE,
There can be no doubt of the enormous im
portance of this subject to society in general,
and candidates for matrimony in particular.
"Who shalt I marry ?" is the vital question to
those, who in the bright lexicon of youth eats
find no s .ch word as fail ; and yet, alas 1 how
many sad failures do we see every day of those.
who Lre married, but not mated. The failure
to find happiness among some of our married
peopl., is largely to be attributed to the want
o' Nisdorn anu foresight in the selectiou of a
lire nartner.
We cat. no more expect the most discordant
elements in nature to amalgamate, as to ex
pect that two human beings, not only of oppo
site sexes—but totally opposite tastes and
ideas, can, by miracle ()fate marriage ceremony,
be fused into one, and made to forget those
habits and ideas that were formed and deep
rooted in the days of "single blessedness." It
is our opinion to these "misfit marriages" a
great deal of the world's misery is to be at
tributed, and many noble souls have had their
lives and fortunes shipwrecked, by being
launched on the sea of life with a companion
who only pulls against the tide, and lands them
both on the shores of mutual misery, or that
"bete noir' for all unhappy husbands and
wives—the divorce court.
OCR BACHELORS
are a varied an: numerous class in society
and we behove these of them that possess the
vaiities requisite to make good busba.nds
,-- ou!rl be much better married than single ;
bu• what are these qualifications ? They do
nut consist in low vulgarity, fast living r passion
for gaming, slang talk, saloon frequenting, and
other Pbominable habits is filch totally unfit
them Iscompauions for pure, refined girls. They
shou'd rather possess noble qualit;es of head,
d „cart, a loving disposition, good business
habits, a love of culture and refinement, energy,
perseverance, industry and all other virtues,
which ever distinguish rani mark the true gen
tleman.
BLASE BACHELORS.
We would warn our young lady friends
against mating themselves to the "Blase
Bachelors" of society, who spend their days
and nights in ronnds of dissipation and de
bauching, and who look on women as an in
ferior race, as compared to the "Lords of
Creation," but who, as "years creep on apace,"
being weary of the world, and its so-calied
friendships, and hollow pleasures, take a new
departure and seek some loving, innocent
(very young) lady, not so much to be their
wife as their "nursing companion"—wh• will
soothe their declining /ears, bear with their
unreasonable crotchets, and smooth their
weary and groanit as the amble
creatures are eyttiajng the .
leaf."
THE JOLLY BACHELOR.
There is another gent of this species, who
should not be forgotten, and that is the "Jolty
Bachelor," he tvho sets the table in a roar, ie
'hail fellow well met" with everybody, has a
laugh and a joke for every one, and rather
fond of practical joking too. Still, he is a
distinct species from our cross-grained bacb
and though seldom a candidate for matri
mony, is an important adjunct to society,
but "cal Bono" (what good) does he achieve,
he does not give good hostages to society,
"but rather frets his hour on the stage"of life,
something like the clown in the pantomime,
and gets well laughed at.
THE BORE BACHELOR.
"An unmitigated bore" is your bachelor who
is eternally boring you with the latest news of
his conquests at the last ball or party among
the ladies—of course they are all "dying"
about him—and there was so many grand, rich
and beautiful girls who danced with him,
laughed with him, and to hear him talk of
himself is one of the greatest inflictions one
can be Fubjected to. Then he knows every
thing, and everybody—and has been every
where. Talk of Paris, and he quotes Rome I
of Venice, and he boasts ofhis intimate knowl
edge of Milan,and the Milanese I of the White
Mountains, and he bursts forth about the ma
jestic grandeur of the Alps ! or if you veutttre
to speak of some distinguished acquainiame
he leads off by claiming close friendship with
everybody from Gen. Grant to Garibaldi ; from
Cardinal Manning to Henry Ward Beecher.—
In short, his wbole idea is self glorification,
and he only lives to excel every body' nd bore
them, also.
THE FASHIONABLE BACHELOR.
This is the "Dandy swell," who believes not
only that the "dress oft proclaims the man,"
but also that the "tailor makes the man."—
For is he not got up to kill—a regular lady
killer? Bless his heart, who has the latest
styles in coats, hats, vests, is very particular
about his collars and neckties, and creates a
sensation in our principle promenades by his
"distingne" appearance as modeled by his
tailor. But how is he "dans Crntorinie," how
is his mind cultivated beneath this splendid
exterior? Has he a respectful deference and
gentlemanly deport toward ladies on all occa
sions, or does he not, on the contrary, like so
many of our fashionable gents, only look upon
them when they gaze on him in fondest admire•
tion (of his dress) and considers he confers a
great favor if he condescends to be the escurt
of some lovely girl, who, for genuine good
sense—we may add good looks, as well as in
refinement and culture—is his superior in
every respect? Welt, we fear alit neither the
old bachelor, nor the jolly bachelor, nor the
bore bachelor, nor still less the fashionable
bachelor is the one iu our opinion tc make a
good husband. Girls, bewaro of4hem ail,
and 'look well" before you make the "fatal
leap" into matrimony. LALLA Roosn.
Corporations Without a. Heart.
It would not be a pleasant task to review
the list of influences which led to the great
strike. Some of them—more important than
has been popularly imagined—have had little
notice; and they lie so far back, or so deep
down, that they are not likely to be talked
about. That the railroad force of the country
has been very badly demoralized, is evident
enough; but if we should say that its demora
lization had come mainly through its rulers
and employers, we should be met with pretty
universal incredulity, if not with indignant
protest.
The example which directors ancinaanagers
have set to those in their employ has not,.
a good one. The men who 'hare done
hard work of the railroad have looked'-an
seen others get rich by illegitimal4
They have seen whole boards of directors drop
off gorged from
,schemes .that lic.ra, le ft the
stock interests without a drOinfhl44 is their
veins. They have sen sedateWiftehd, tam
pered with, robbed. They haws aelhatrailrOads
which bad absorbed the li . vings
,of trustful
widows and orphans managed Solely for the
private interests of their presidents and di
rectors. They have seen ioads' built with
bonds that were lies, and were knonin to he
lies. They have seen roads in ruinous cotn
petition with each other, while' hey are tinm
pelted to do their work at small wages. ?Bey
have been made to work upon the Sabbath,
and have been practically shut away from all
religious instruction by those who, with sanc
timonious faces and conveniently obtuse ton
sciences, have "taken sweet counsel together,
and walked to the House of Galin complatl."
The railroad corporations are very few that
have manifested the slightest interest in their
employes beyond getting out of theta what
it was possible to get for the consideration
agreed upon.—Scribner,
NO. 47.