VOL. 42. The Huntingdon Journal J. R. DURBORROW, PrBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS. Office in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every Friday by J. R. Duaßoaaow and J. A. Neen, under Lhe firm HAMS of J. R. Duasoasow Jt Co., at $2,00 per annum IN ADVANCE, or $2.60 if not paid for in six months from date of subscription, and $3 if not paid within the No paper discontinued, unless at the option of the pub lishers, until all arrearages are paid. No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless absolutely paid for in advance. Transient advertisements will be inserted at TWPLTE AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first insertion, SEVEN AND A-HALF CENTS fur the second and FIVE emirs per line for all subsequent insertions. Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements will be inserted at the following rates : 1 3m 16m I 9mll yr ! 13m 16m 19mallyr tin 83 50 4 50 550 8 00 .1 ,/col 9 00118 001527$ 36 2 " 500 00 ! 10 00 1 12 09col 18 00136 001 60 65 3 " 7 00,10 00114 00 1 18 00, 4 col 34 0050 001 65, 80 4 " , 8 00114 00120 00,18 0011 col 36 00 60 001 801 106 All Resolutions of Associations, Communications of limited or individual interest, all party announcements, and notices of Marriages and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will be charged TEN CENTS per line. Legal and other notices will be charged to the party having them inserted. Advertising Agents must find their commission outside of these figures. All advertising accounts are due and collectable when the advertisement is once inserted. —„,.... JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch. Hand-bills, Blanks. Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every variety and style, printed at the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing line will be executed in the most artistic manner and at the lowest rates. Professional Cards• DR. J. G. CAMP, graduate of Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery. Office ".n3 Penn Street. Teeth ex tracted without pain. Charges moderate. [Dec'. 177-3 m fl CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law. No. 111, 3rd street. V. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods A Wil liamson. [apl2,'7l DR. A.B. BRUMBAUGII, offers his professional services to the community. Office, No 523 Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan4,ll 11 C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. O ffi ce in Leister'e _Li. building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E. J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '76. fit 80. B. ORLADY , Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street, U Huntingdon, Pa.. [n0v17,15 G. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building, • No. b2O, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [ap12.71 HC. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No.—, Penn • Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l T SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Iluntingdon, J . Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd Street. Dan4,'7l T W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim t_J • Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of fice on Penn Street. [jan4,'7l TS. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, J.J. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. =0 Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [febs,'7l Q E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., . office in Monitor building, Penn Street Prompt and careful attention given to all legal business. [angs,'74-6mos WILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting !V don, Pa. Special attention given to collections, and all other legal business attended to with care and promptness. Office, No. 229, Penn Street. [apl9,'7l School and Miscellaneous Books GOOD BOOKS FOR TIIR FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD. The following is a list of Valuable Books, which will be supplied from the Office of the Huntingdon JOURNAL. Any one or more of these books will be sentpost-paid to any of our readers on receipt of the regulat price, which is named against each book. Allen's (K. L. & L. F.) New American Farm Book 12 60 Allen's (L. F.) American Cattle.• 2 661 Allen's (K. L.) American Farm Book 1 50 Allen's (L. F.) Rural Architecture 1 60 Allen's (K. L.) Diseases of Domestic Animals 1 00 American Bird Fancier 3O American Gentleman's Stable Guide. ............. .. 1 00 American Bee Cialturiat —.. 30 American Weeds and Useful Plants Atwood's Country and Suburban Houses.. ..... I 50 Atwood's Modern American .ouresteads*...._ 3 50 Baker's Practical and Scientific Fruit Culture 2 50 Barber's Crack Shot• Barry's Fruit Garden 2 50 Beli's Carpentry Made Ea5y................ ............... b 00 Bement's Rabbit Fancier 3O Bicknell's Village Builder and Supplement. 1 Vol• l2 So Bicknell's Supplement to Village Builder• 5 00 Bogardus' Field Cover, and Trap Shooting• Bommer's Method of Making Manures 25 Boussingault's Rural Economy 1 60 Brackett's Farm Talk-. paper, Pacts.; cloth 75 Breck's New Book of Flowers 1 75 Brill's Farm-Gardening and Seed-Growing 1 00 Broom-Corn and Brooms paper, blicts.; cloth Brown's Taxidermist's Manual ............ ... ...... ...._.. 1 Bruckaer's American Manures Buchanan'. Culture of the Grapeand Wine making ; Buel's Cider-Maker's .Manual. Buist's Flower-Garden Directoty . _ l5(. Buist's Family Kitchen Gardener 1 00 Burgas' American Kennel and Sporting Field...- 4 00 Burnham'e The China Fowl. 1 00 Burn's Architectural Drawing Book. ... Burns' illustrated Drawing Book. 1 00 Burns' Ornamental Drawing Book. .. Burr's Vegetables of America. 3 00 Caldwell'e Agricultural Chemical Analysis ...... Canary Birds. Paper 50 cts Cloth 75 Chorlton's Grape-Grower'e Guide 75 Cleveland's Landscape Achitecture. 1 50 Clok's Diseases of Sheep. Cobbett's American Gardener 75 Cole's American Fruit Book 75 Cole's American Veterinarian 75 Cooked and Cooking Food for Domestic Animals 2O Cooper's Game Fowls. Corbett's Poultry Yard and Market.pa.socts., cloth 75 Croft's Progressive American Architecture lO 00 Cummings' Architectural Details lO 00 Cummings & Miller's Architecture. Cupper's Universal Stair-Builder 3 50 Dadd's Modern Horse Doctor, 12 mo 1 50 Dadd's American Cattle , actor, 12 mo 1 50 Dadd's American Cattle Doctor, Bvo, cloth* 25 0 Dadd's American Reformed Horse Boek, 8 vo, cloth 2 50 Dada's Muck Manual Darwin's Variations of Animals & Plants. 2 vole [new ed.) Dead Shot ; or, Sportsman's Complete Guide. 1 75 Detail Cottage and Constructive Architecture. lO 00 De Voe's Market Assistant. Dinka, Mayhew, and Hutchieon, on the D0g.... Downing's Landscape Gardening 6 50 Dwyer'. Horse 800 k.... ........... . ........... Eastwood on Cranberry ............ .. ............. Egglestou'e Circuit Rider. . Eggleston's End of the World 1 50 • Eggleston's Hoosier School-Master 1 25 Eggleston's Mystery of Metropolisville .. 1 50 Eggleston's (Geo. C.) A Man of Honor Elliott'. Hand Book for Fruit Growers. Pa., 60c. ; clo lOO Elliott's Hand-Book of Practical Landscape Gar dening* e 1 50 Elliott's Lawn and Shade Trees. 1 50 E liotre Western Fruit-Grower's Guide 1 50 Eveleth'e School Hone Architecture. 6 00 Every Horse Owner's Cyclopedia... ... . 3 75 Field's Pear Culture .. 1 25 Flax Culture. [Seven Prize Essays by practical grow ers ) .. ... ... ... . .. . . . 30 Flint (Charles L.) on Grasses* 2 50 Flint's Milch Cows and Dairy Farming. 2 60 Frank Forester's American Game in its Season. 3 00 Frank Forester's Field Sports, 8 Co., vol 6OO Frank Forester s Fish and Fishing, , 100 Enge 350 Frank Forester's Horse of America, 8 vo., 2 VOlll lO 00 Frank Forester's Manual for Young Eportamen, 8 vo. 3 00 French's Farm Drainage 1 50 Fuller's Foreet-Tree Gulturist . 1 50 Fuller's Grape Culturist 1 09 ' Fuller's Illustrated Strawberry Culturist 2O Fuller's Small Fruit Culturist 1 b Fulton's Peach Culture .... ...... ....- ............... Gardner'. Carriage Painters' Manual • 1 00 Gardner's Flow to Paint* Geyelin's Poultry-Breeding 1 25 Gould's A merican Stair-Builder's* .... 4 00 Gould's Carpenter's and Builder's Assistant ...... ...... 3 l 0 Gregory on Cabbages paper.. 30 Gregory on Onion Raising. ...- paper.. 30 Gregory on Squashes Guenon on Mulch Cows Guillaume's Interior Architecture* 3 00 Gun, Rod, and Saddle* 1 (5) Hallett's Builders' Specifications* Hallett's Builders' Contracts* ......... .............. 10 Harney's Barns, Out-Buildings, and 11'ence5*........: 6 00 Harris's Insects Injurious to Vegetation... Plain $4; Colored Engravings 6 60 Harris on the Pig liedges' on Sorgho or the Northern Sugar Plants 1 50 Helmsley's Hardy Trees, Shrubs, and Plants* 750 Henderson's Gardening for Pleasure 1 50 Henderson Gardening for Profit Henderson's Practical Floriculture 1 50 Herbert's Hints to Horse-Keepers 1 75 Holden'e Book of Birds paper 25c.; cloth.. Hooper's Book of Evergreens Hoper's Dog and Gun paper 30c.;; cloth Hooper' Western Fruit Books Hop Culture. By nine experienced cultivators How to get a Farm and Where to find One Hasmann's Grapes and Wines Hussey's Home Buildings* ..... Hussey's National Cottage Architecture...... . Jacques's Manual of the Garden, Farm aad Barn- Yards Jennings on Cattle and their Diseases*......... Jennings' Horse Training Made Easy* Jennings on the Horse and his Diseases* Jennings on Sheep, Swine, and Poultry* Jersey, Alderney, and Guernsey C0w*....... 'Rebecca ' - John Andross (I, . Harding Davis) Johnson's How Crops Feed . . 2 00 Johnson's How Crops Gr0w......... ............ ...... ...... . 2 00 Johnson's Peat and its Uses : .. ... 125 Johnson's Agricultural Chemistry . . 1 75 Johnson's Elements of Agricultural Chemistry...— 1 50 Kern's Practical Landscape Gardening* 1 50 King's Beekeepers' Text 800k..Paper40c.........c10th 75 Klippart's Wheat Plant* _ _ Lakey's Village and Country Leavitt's Facts about Peat* .. Leuchar's How to build Hot-Houses Lewis' People's Practical Poultry Keeper* 1 50 Long's American Wild Fowl Shooting* 2 00 Loring's Farm-Yard Club ofJotham , ..... 3 50 Loth's Practical Stair Builder* lO 00 Lyman's Cotton Culture 1 50 Manual of Flax Culture* . Merehall'e Farmer's Rand Book* 1 60 J. R. DURBORROW, - - - J. A. NASH. The Huntingdon Journal, J. A. NASH EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, THE NEW JOURNAL BUILDING, No. 212, FIFTH STREET, HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA. $2 00 per annum, in advauee; $2.50 within six months, and $3.00 if not paid within the year. 00000000 0 REPUBLICAN PAPER. 0 00000000 SUBSCRIBE. 00000000 ;mug; TO ADVERTISERS Circulation 1800. ADVERTISING MEDIUM The JOURNAL is one of the best printed papers in the Juniata Valley, and is read by the best citizens in the 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- vania. Those who patronize its columns are sere of getting a rich return for their investment. Advertisements, both local and foreign, solicited, and inserted at reasonable rates. Give us a❑ order ;um; JOB DEPARTMENT R d 50 00 60 50 30 1 25 b 0 ... 600 .... 6 00 &- ... 175 ... 1 75 .... 1 25 .... 1 76 .... 1 75 ... 1 50 6 00 , 175 1 50 Se - All business letters should be ad dressed to J. R. DURBORROW & CO., Huntingdon} Pa. r he.:': ::,'.:... uritingi 0n..,,,- .:.,,..- ournal. Printing PUBLISHED -IN TERMS : 0 0 0 0 000 0 0 0 00000000 PROGRESSIVE 0 0 0 0 o o o FIRST-CLASS 5000 READERS :: WEEKLY. B m n of .es cc 't ..1 0 cm .-, P 8 PRINTING ;CIALTY. Ely pU5l5' *him Go Ahead. When your plans of life are clear Go ahead; But no faster than your brains, Haste is always in the rear ; If dame Prudence has the reins. Go ahead. Do not ask too broad a test— Go ahead ; Lagging never clears the sight. When you do your duty best, You will know best what is right— Go ahead. Never doubt a righteous caus, Go ahead; Throw yourself completely in ; Conscious shaping all your laws, Manfully through thick and thin, Go ahead. Do not ask who'll go with you. Go ahead ; Numbers 1 spurn the coward's plea 1 If there be but one or two, Single-banded though it be, Go ahead 1 Though before you mountains rise, Go ahead, Scale them ? Certainly you can, Let them proudly don the skies ; What are mountains to a man ! Go ahead. Though fierce waters round you dash, Go ahead. Let no hardship baffle you, Though the heavens roar and flash, Still undaunted, firm, and true, Go ahead. Heed not Mammon's golden bell, Go ahead. Make no compromise with sin; Tell the serpent he looks well, But you cannot let him in ; Go ahead, Better days are drawing nigh ; Go ahead Making duty all your pride, You must prosper, live or die, For all heaven's on your side, Go ahead. torß-Etiltr. MY METAMORPHOSE. BY N. P. DARLING. Boggs, Moggs and I had partaken of a grand supper at Holland's, at Bogg's ex pense. We had everything to eat, and something to drink. If I remember rightly. there was considerable "flowing bowl" round that night, and if I am not mistaken, "flowing bowl," when taken in large quantities, is "slightually" intoxicating.— I was not aware before that night, that Boggs was such a superior vocalist. He sang "We won't go home till morning," with such feeling, such pathos, that it fairly brought the tears to Mogg's eyes Even I felt slightly melted. Well, we didn't go home till morning. At least, it was after two o'clock before we left Holland's. I think that Boggs and Moggs were slightly elevated. They went off together, arm in-arm. Methinks "I see them on their winding way." I started for home alone. All my past life came up before me in review. lam forty years of age now, but involuntarily my thoughts wandered back to the days of my youth. "I thought of her I loved so well—those early broken ties," as the gong says Yes, I had loved, and alas! I had been false to my vows. I was only twenty-two then. Betsey Jane was eighteen. She was pretty as a pink, and I was ditto. We were a handsome couple, everybody said, and I was looking forward anxiously to the day when we should be one; for Betsey Jane had told me that her heart was all my own. _ . "Same here, Betsey Jane," said I. pla cing my hand upon my bosom. "Nothing can tear thy dear image from my heart." "Can I trust you,Jonas ?" Betsey asked. "Till death, Betsey Jane." (That's what Sniggs, the tailor, is doing.) That seemed to restore her confidence, and she laid her head upon my bosom. 'Tis sweet to love and feel that the love is returned. Betsey Jane Streeter and 1 luxuriated in the sweetness about three months, and then, ah then ! the Widow Maveth came to town. She was two years my senior, but she was bewitchingly beau tiful, and what was of more consequence to a poor young man like myself, she was worth ten thousand dollars. The Widow Maveth had bought the Badean estate. I was hired to cat ry ou the farm. When Betsey Jane Streeter heard of that, she had a premonition of evil. I tried to restore her confidence, but I could not. "Widows are dangerous to young men of your organization, Jonas," she said. "Do you think I would forsakeyou now, darling ?" I asked. "All men are false," she replied in a mournful tone "But lam not. I swear—" "Don't swear, Jonas " "Well, if I am false to you, Betsey Jane, I hope I may become a Cochin- China rooster the next minute" (Twenty years have passed since I made that wish, but I trembled as I thought of it.) "Don't be rash, Jonas. Human nature is weak," Betsey Jane said, with a shud der. She was thinking how I would look if I was taken at my word. The widow had her eyes cast upon me. She found that I was comely io look upon. She admired my form—she was ravished with the beauty of my face. From that moment my doom was sealed Betsey Jane was right. Widows are dangerous to young men of my organization. They have a peculiar charm about them that other women have not. I felt that charm It was too much for my poor weak human nature. Perhaps, my dear reader, you have a great deal of confidence in yourself, and feel that you could defy a score of widows—perhaps you could, but I doubt it. The Widow Maveth used to fix her loving eyes upon me. Every glance said, as plain as words, "Why don't you ?" Will any sane man look me in the face, and sly he could stand that ? I couldn't. I threw myself at the widow's feet. "Make me happy," I said. "I'll make you miserable," said she. "I love you." "I intended that you should." "Will you marry me ?" "Yes, of course." "Bless you, darling !" I cried, but just then I thought of Betsey Jane Streeter and the Cochin China rooster, and a sen sation of pain thrilled through me, I thought I felt the pin-feathers starting ! "Oh horrors !" I looked at the widow.— That "why don't you ?" look came into her eyes, and I could not resist it; I bent down and kissed her red ripe lips. Betsey Jane had never kissed like that. It set my blood on fire. I clasped her is my arms, and promised to love her forever. HUNTINGDON, PA, FRIDAY, MARCH 8, 1878. The Widow Maveth and I were married just two weeks from that day. Betsey Jane Streeter fled from town the same day, and no one knew where she went. Perhaps she had committed suicide. It was ter rible to think, that if such was the case, I was the sole cause for the rash act. The Widow Maveth when she became my wife, was as good as her word—she made me miserable. I felt that Betsey Jane was avenged. I thought of all these things as I walked home that night, after leaving Boggs and Moggs. When I reached home all my family had retired, but the fire was not out in the grate. I put on more coals, and sat down before it, and as it was rather chilly, I threw my son's army overcoat around me to keep me comfortable until the fireshould get under headway. Better stay here, thought I, than to take a curtain lecture from Mrs. Terwilliger, which I was sure of, if I went to bed. It must have been near three o'clock in the morning. The house was still as death. I took up a book and began reading, and was soon lost to everything else. Suddenly I heard a loud rap on the table beside me. I started up, but nothing was to be seen I looked under the table with no better success. What could it be ? lam not at all superstitious. I had heard of spiritual rappiugs, but believed nothing in such manifestations. Perhaps some departed spirit has returned to convince me, I thought. "I'll ask the question, anyhow," said I. "There can be no harm in that." "Is there a spirit present that wishes to communicate with me ?" I questioned, my voice trembling terribly. "Jonas Terwilliger !" iu tones that froze the blood in my veins I looked wildly around, but nothing could I see. The voice sounded familiar to me Where had I heard it before ? It can't be my wife trying to frighten me.— No, it was not her voice. 'Jonas Terwilliger, I have come !" the voice said again. My knees trembled under me, but I popped out the first thing that came into my head : "I don't see it." "Behold!" I looked toward the further corner of the room. It was almost dark, so far from the light ; but as I gazed, the shadow of a woman's face, pale and cold, looked out of the gloom Her eyes gleamed with an unearthly light, that seemed to freeze the marrow in my bones. Her long fair hair fell down over the white shoulders. Her pale blue lips were parted, and I saw her white teeth glistening between them. "Do you know me ?" the same terrible voice asked "Know you I cried. "Yes, yes, it is, it is my own Betsey Jane !" and I fell back into the grate ; but every one knows that there is something peculiarly reviving about - hot coals when applied to some parts of our person. I instantly regained my perpendicular. 'Yes, I am Betsey Jane Streeter—the bride of Death !" My tongue clove to the roofof my mouth. The perspiration covered every part of my body, while cold chills chased each other up and down my spinal column. "Why have you come to torment me ?" I cried. "Reveng , !" those pale lips hissed.— "Revenge !" "You are avenged, Betsey Jane," I fal tered. ' I have not seen a happy day since I lost you." " 'Tis not enough ! 'tie not enough !" "Pity me, Betsey Jane. By the love you once bore me, I implore you " "You had no pity for me—l will have none for you !" in a cold sepulchral voice. "I have repented in sackcloth and ashes " "'Tie not enough !' Slowly the shadow advanced toward -.Lie As she came out of the gloom, I noticed that she was dressed in the style of twenty years ago. In fact., she wore the same calico dress that she had worn when I had last seen her io the flesh. As she ad vanced, her thin claw like fingers were stretched out toward me. "Do not touch me !" I shrieked. "I will do anything that you command, only do not come near me." "Jonas Ter-will i-ger," with a terrible accent upon every syllable, "do you re. member your vow ?" "Yes, yes, but do not touch me. I--I beg your pardon, ma'am. I'm sorry, in deed I am, Miss Streeter." "But you never felt the sorrow that I have felt You never suffered the anguish of soul that I have suffered. If you proved false to me, you hoped—" "Do not come near me !" I cried again. "I must clasp thee in these arms, Jonas. I must lay this head upon thy bosom, and you must kiss these pale blue lips !" "0 horrors Anything but that," and I sprang upon the table. "Do you remember your last words to we, Jonas Terwilliger ? Do you re member ?" "If you proved false to me, you hoped you might become a Cochin China rooster! Post thou remember, 0 mortal ?" "I do, but spare me, spare me, Betsey Jane !" I shrieked, in agony. "Never, never ! I have sworn to be re venged !" "Remember your love for me." "It is turned to hate." "Have you no pity in your heart !" "None, Jonas Terwilliger. You ask for pity—ha! didst thou pity me ? Pre pare !" "For what?" 'Thy doom ! Thou shalt be a Cochin China rooster, and chicken dough shalt thou eat all the days of thy life !" She waved her thin white hand. I felt a prickly sensation all over my body, and knew that the pin feathers were starting But strange as it may seem, my calmness returned to me, and with a feeling of quiet despair, I submitted to my fate. I stood directly in front of the mirror, and so had an excellent opportunity to watch the change that was coming over me. Slowly my hair assumed a perpen dicular, slowly it changed from a beautiful brown to a blood red hue. Can it be pos sible ? Yes, it was a rooster's comb ! I raised my hand to my whiskers—alas! they were gills My hand fell with a loud flap to my side, I saw that my arm was covered with long bright feathers of rain bow hues. I attempted to bury my face in my hands, but I could only flap my wing in despair. I attempted to speak to Betsey Jane, but I could only mutter, "Cut-ty-ca r-r-r ow-ow." Turning to the mirror, I saw that my nose had changed to a bill nearly a foot and a half long ! It is impossible for me to describe the feel f.ng of despair that came over me. My head fell upon my breast, and looking down, I saw a long spur growing out of each ankle joint, while my feet were changed to immense claws. All over my body glistened feathers of red, brown and green; and glancing over my shoulder, I beheld a sight that made me shudder— there was a growth of feathers of all colors, at least five feet in length, the ends of which curved very gracefully, the tips of them dangling against my spurs. I looked toward the shadow of Betsey Jane, and stretched out my wing imploringly ; but she laughed in scorn. "Now crow," she said. "Crow, or I'll wring your neck." I crowed. The poet speaks of the "cock's loud clarion," but you should have heard mine ! I think it was the tallest specimen of crowing that ever was heard. As I closed my bill, I flapped my wings in the most approved style. "That's very well done," said Betsey Jane, with a fiendish chuckle, "but it isn't quite up to the mark. You must try again. Now expand your lungs. Are you ready ?" "Ca•r r ow;" said I. "One, two, three—crow." Again my clarion notes filled the room, and again I flapped my beautiful wings. "Excellent. !" exclaimed Betsey Jane Streeter '•With a very little practiceyou will excel ail your feathered brothers." Even a rooster likes praise I tried to smile, but it is hard work to grin when you've nothing but a bill to do it with, and so I jingled my gills in a humorous manner, and winked at Betsey Jane. "You are a very handsome rooster," she said. looking upon me with admiration.— •`You never looked so well before in your life." Again I jingled my gills. "What a splendid dinner you'll make for your wife and family next Thanksgiving day !" Horrid thought ! My bill turned a trifle paler than usual, and those tall feathers at my back trembled with terror. "I'd like a slice off your breast with oyster sauce," Betsey Jane continued, per ceiving my agitation ; and one of your drumsticks wouldn't be objectionable." I attempted to say "How can you ?" But—well, perhaps you've heard a rooster say that, and if so, you know how I sue ceeded. "'Well, I must hear you crow once more, and then I shall be obliged to leave you, for Mrs. Terwilliger will be out here soon. and put you in the hen coop," she said. while a fiendish smile played upon her face. "Now take a long breath—expand your chest. That's right. One, two, three, crow !" "Cockadoodiedoo !" "Wasn't that a stunner ?" thought I; but just then I felt some one shake my wing. I flapped them both and crowed again with all my might, throwing my head back, and opening my bill to its widest extent. "Jonas Terwilliger!" I opened my eyes. •Bully !" a childish voice cried. "The deuce !" said I, rubbing my eyes, and looking around upon my family, from my perch on the table. "Are you awake now ?" asked my wife. "Awake? Ah, then I've been dream ing, have I ?" —Yes, I should think you had. You've been perched upon the table, trying to crow, you old fool, with your whole family laughing at you. You knew better than to try to crow while you were awake, and I was near. "Flap your wings again, papa," said my youngest. "Get down from that table." cried my wife, "and when you want to play rooster again, go into the henhouse." I did get down immediately, and throw ing off the overcoat, the cape of which had furnished wings for me, I left the room I've felt rather crest-fallen since, and have found it very difficult to preserve the dignity of the "head of the family" at home; and when I attempt to punish my son Thb, he always runs away, and getting upon the table, flaps his arms, any crows. It is unnecessary to say that I never stay to hear him crow twice. The moral of my tale is easily to be seen. Young man, if you are courting some pretty Betsey Jane, think of my story, and beware. Furthermore, beware of widows ! ~ektt liscellan. A Meddlesome Nature. For the credit of human nature, it is to be hoped that the men who descend from their proper sphere to meddle with the domestic duties of the household are few and far between. The male housekeeper carries the common purse, which he holds with an iron grip, pinching every quarter that he grudgingly deals out for family necessaries till the very eagle on it squeals and his wife feels her degradation to the depths of her soul. Such a man's "better halt' is an utter nonentity, with far less independence of soul and body than the untutored servant in the kitchen, whose wages supply her humble needs, and who, if she is not satisfied, can at any time change her condition How many wives of male housekeepers have even one dollar a week to spend exactly as they choose -and no questions asked," and who does not know that more genuine satisfaction can be gotten out of ten cents absolutely wasted than from ten dollars used for mere necessaries ? The male housekeeper al ways deals with the butcher and grocer by the week and fortnight, to save trouble, and so always carries that curse to economy, a grocery book. Thus the wife is forced to trade at one or two particular stores, and if they have not the articles required, she must do without them. How infinitely better to set aside a certain amount, be it ever so small accordina t' to the salary of the head of the family, for household expenses, and let the wife manage it her own way. Ninety nine times out of a hundred she will make it go farther than a man can.— Then no more pinching, contriving and cajoling ; no more "books" at butchers and grocers, where one is continually in debt, often purchasing what one cannot afford, sometimes paying for more than one gets, and taking up with an inferior article when better could be bought in the market for less money if one only had cash in hand. A wife bears her full share of the common burden by daily cares and thought ful management for the comfort of the family, and is entitled to a share of the common fund, which division should be just as cheerfully rendered by the head of the firm as with any other partner. These are all the "rights" which true women re quire "WHY is this called Jacob's ladder ?" asked a charming woman, as she and he were going up the steepest part of the Mt. Washington railway. "Because," he repli ed, with a look that emphasized his words, "there are angels ascending and descending occasionally." He squeezed her hand. SUBSCRIBE for the JOURNAL, People Who Drink. OBSERVATIONS IN FIRST CLASS BAR. ROOMS. "Monsieur X" thus writes to the New York Sun : Physicians say that nearly two-thirds of their male patients suffer in one way or another from alcoholic poison. No close observer will be disposed to doubt this. From the low shops on South and West streets, along the line of more fashionable saloons on and near Broadway, in the vicinity of the old post office, in the gilded retreats that gird the Astor house, in the several places of note on Printing House square, in the cozy boudoirs of the Union square, and in the magnificent marble palaces that fringe Madison square, not omitting the frescoed club rooms and the dingy slop shops at the extreme east side —from the first to the last, and in them all the same story of intemperance may be learned. I went into the basement of one of Gotham's greatest architectural piles this morning, and stood at the end of the counter, half an hour, to see what was d'one. There were fuur bar-tenders, all busily engaged. In that brief time they sold to all sorts and conditions of men two hundred beers, thirty-two whiskies, ten lemonades, two plain seltzers, and three gin cocktails. It was an exceptionally busy half hour, to be sure; but as I took my seat ata little table near the counter, I noticed in the next half hour, and made a memorandum to guard against mistakes, a sale of one hundred and thirty beers, fifty whiskies and six gin cocktails. The men who drank were not "bums." Very many of them were known to the world of politics, several are noted writers, the city hall furnished its quota, some do business in the swamp, and not one seemed in the least degree affect"d by what they drank. Leaving this place we went to another saloon, equally well known, whose pro prietors pay an annual rent of $60,000 tbr the premises, which are kept open from eight o'clock in the morning until seven in the evening. Standing by a little cigar case which is placed at one side of the room, I devoted half an hour to a close count of the drinks and drinkers. There were three barkeepers, and they had all they could do to attend promptly to the customers. One company of six young men drank six times in less than fifteen minutes, and each took his whisky straight. ._ In half an hour's time that bar sold ninety-eight whiskies, four ginger ales, three ciders, and fourteen gin cocktails. As I went out I said to one of the six young men who drank six times : "What are you drinking eo much for to day ?" "Oh, nothing," he replied ; "I didn't intend to. Charley and I went in for an oyster, and were ordering when those four fellows from Albany came along Charley asked 'em to drink, and one followed the other." That's the history of many a spree. The spree doesn't intend to go off, but meeting a friend the one tempts the other. Returning to the saloon I visited first, I ordered a lunch, and was soon joined—l always am—by an acquaintance, who, of course, said, "Wha'll you take ?" Being in a taking mood, I said I would try a glass of rye. He took the same.— Having said, "How," and emptied the glasses, I said, "Rufe, what did you drink that whisky for ? Do you like it ?" . "No, I don't like it. I'm drinking too much, too. Guess I'll pull up." "Well, tell me, what did you order it for ?" "Why, for sociability's sake, I suppose. What did you drink it for ?" "Because I wanted to ask just this ques tion. I've been looking at the fellows drink there, and I believe eight out of ten drink just because they don't like to say `no !' " "Does it make your head ache to drink wh'sky ?" "Yes." "So it does mine. I swore off whisky and took to beer, but beer makes me bilious." "Why drink anything ?" "Hanged if I know, but we all drink." We were joined by an actor. Being an actor, and in company of a newspaper man, there was, be thought, but one thing to do Said he, "What'll you take ?" We took whisky. So did he. We each said "How," and then said I, "Dan, do you like whisky ?" "I hate it." "Why do you drink it ?" "I don't often. I generally take gin ; but they both upset me ; give me a fearful headache. But what are you going to do ? Must drink something." In that way I hava spoken to not less than twenty men this very day. Of the twenty, fifteen said that drink always gave them a headache; one owned that he "loved the taste," one said he drank be cause he was "blue," and one confessed he was "on a tear,and didn't care who knew it." It stands to reason that this sort of thing must produce some impression on the hu man form divine. The doctors say it induces paralysis, in digestion, headache, rheumatism and weak ness of many kinds Not being a doctor, I don't attempt to endorse their opinion ; but this I will say, that among all the hundreds of drinkers— regular topers, not drunkards—to be found in the first class saloons of New York to-day, it would be impossible to find a dozen men who will say that they drink because they are fond of liquor. They drink because it seems to be the thing to do. IF you ask a boy to break up a piece of lump coal so as to keep himself from freez ing, he regards his lot as one of exception al hardship; but let him find an old tor pedo lyinc , around loose. he will hammer at it with m a stone until the prespiration stands in great drops upon his forehead, or an explosion relieves him from his self-ap pointed task. A NEVADA man's Chinese laborer re cently refused to chop wood on Sunday morning, and when the reason was asked, he answered . "Heap no work Sunday ; all same white man. Heap play poker." EXCHANGE : Poor young thing: She fainted away at the wash-tub, and her pretty nose went kerslop into the soapsuds Some said it was overwork; others, how ever, whispered that her beau had peeped over the back of the fence and called out : "Hello, there, Bridget, is Miss Alice at home?" The Father to His Motherless Chil- dren. Come, gather closer to my side, My little smitten flock, And I will tell of him who brought Pure water from the rock; Who boldly led God's people forth From Egypt's wrath and guile, And once a cradled babe did float, All helpless on the Nile. You're weary, precious ones, your eyes Are wandering far and wide; Think ye of her who knew so well Your tender thoughts to guide? Who could to wisdom's sacred love Your fixed attention claim ? 0, never from your hearts erase That blessed mother's name. 'Tis time you sing your evening hymn, My youngest infant dove ; Come, press thy velvet cheek to mine, And learn the lay of love. My shelterfhg arms can clasp you all, My poor, deserted throng; Cling, as you used to cling to her Who sings the angel's song. Begin, sweet birds,tbe accustomed strain; Come, warble loud and clear; Alas alas ! you're weeping all, You're sobbing in my ear. Good-night I go say the prayer she taught, Beside your little bed; The lips that used to bless you there, Are silent with the dead. A father's band your course may guide, Amid the tiorns of life ; His cars protect those shrinking plants, That dread the storms of strife ; But who upon your infant hearts Shall like that mother write, Who touched the springs that rule tbe soul? Dear, mourning babes, good-night 1 Early Rising. There is another class of superstitions borne down to us from the crabbed times of our Puritan ancestry which I fancy we shall also somewhat shamefacedly own. They were the daily maxims which formed a part of the teaching in every genuine New England home, and their permanence as a part of our mental constitution is an encouraging circumstance to educators who sometimes are inclined to think that even line upon line and precept upon precept fail to make their impression upon the way ward mind of youth. To remove this fear, we stand as living monuments, boldly avow ing first, that we find it constantly difficult to convince ourselves—though our reason tells us that we are absurd—that it is not a moral duty to rise before, or at least, with the sun. Day by day, as we descend to our eight o'clock or nine o'clock breakfast, we are conscious of a certain sense of moral torpitude which we know to be unreasona ble. It is in the effort to shake off this sense, which is only the remnant of an old superstition, that I write. The general axioms an the subject of early rising, which helped to make the New England Primer and the Farmer's Almanac a never-failing source of supposed improvement, and which were afterward re-enunciated by Franklin, do not apply to the present day nor to city life. What is gained even for useful work by rising at six, and then beinc , ° obliged to take a nap in the middle of the day ? Why not do up all our sleeping at once, and have a clear sweep for work ? If, again, one could carefully rake up and cover the embers of his fire at nine P. at., and sleep the sleep of the righteous till six, he might possibly rise at six, or even five, though why, even in that case, any sane person should insist cn doing two hours' work be fore eating, and call such action virtue, I could never understand. Circumstances alter rules as well as cases, which is what we of Puritan stock find it hard to under stand. I myself know two young women of New England birth and training who, though they go into much evening society, and are frequently awake at midnight or after, each week during the New York winter, yet persist in being punctual every morning at the half-past seven breakfast of the family. True, they have no appetites; true, they take long naps in the afternoon; true, they break down every year by March ; yet they gallantly return to the assault every autuain,and would feel asham ed and guilty if they did otherwise. So strong is the force of superstition ! In the future more perfect days it will be considered a sin to awake any one from sleep except in cases of life and death, and our grandchildren may perhaps be free from the inherited weakness of believing, because the flowers and the chickens and the birds wake when the sun does, that therefore a human being should do so. By what logic do we select the one action of waking as suitable for our imitation ? ANNA C. BRACKETT, in Harper's Maga zine for March. The Simple Secret. Twenty clerks in a warehouse—twenty hands in a printing office—twenty young men in a village. All want to get along in the world, and all expect to do so. One of the clerks will rise to be a partner, and make a fortune. One of the compositors will own a newspaper, and become a pros perous and influential citizen. One of the apprentices will become a master builder. One of the villagers will get a handsome farm, and live like a patriarch. But which is destined to be the lucky individual ? Lucky! There is no luck about it. The thing is almost as certain as a rule of three The young fellow who will distance his competitors is he who masters his business, who preserves his integrity, who lives clearly and purely, who never gets in deb, who gains friends by deserving them, and puts his money in a savings' bank.— There are some ways to fortune that look shorter than this old, dusty highway; but the staunch men of the community, the men who achieve something really worth having, good fortune, good name, and a serene old age, all go this road. The Heart. Throb, throb, throb ! Never sleeping, but often tired, bleeding with wounds, of ten afflicted by those who do not under stand it, or burdened with affection, it must beat on for a lifetime. Nothing finds a lodgement in its chambers that does not add to its labors. Every thought that the mind generates steps upon the heart be fore it wings its way into the outer world. The memories of dead loved ones are mountains of weight upon its sensitive ness ; the sensitiveness, the anxieties of the soul stream to the heart and bank them selves upon it as the early snow-drift cov ers the tender plant; love, if it loves, will fire it with feverish warmth, and makel it the more sensitive; hate, if it bates, heats it to desperation and fills it with conflicts. Still it works on. When slumber closes the eye-lids, the heart is beating beneath all its burdens; it works while we sleep; it aches while we laugh. Do not unne cessarily wound it; do not add to its. bur deus. Speak a kind word to cheer it ; warm it when it is cold ; encourage it when it despairs. Romance in Real Life. THE WONDERFUL CAREER OP HENRY MEIGGS—A MAN WHO MADE AND SPENT HUGE FORTUNES—HIS GREAT ACHIEVEMENTS IN CHILI AND PERU. The death of Henry Meiggs, which oo curred at Lima, Peru, on the 29th of Sep tember, ended the career of one of the most remarkable men of his time. Few men have dominated empires as large as he did ; few men have owned and controlled so much of the world's wealth as he, and few men have left behind them so glitter ing, and at the same time so demoralising, an example. Before his brilliant. meteoric course, which at one time seemed to have the regularity of a planet's orbit, the ea- reers of most modern adventurers are as the fickle gleams of a rush-light. Fisk; with his feeble enterprise of stealing the funds of the Erie Railroad and crossing from one State to another with them in a • skiff, becomes a pigmy in comparison with his daring adventures. And even Tweed, who ruled a municipality and had a dispu ted dominion over a Commonwealth, show ed himself an imitator of the colossus of fraud and speculation when, as a captive,. after his flight and escape, he offered to , make restitution and pleaded for mercy that he might go abroad, self exiled, to conduct the great enterprise he meditated in Spain. Ralston, who was a boy when Meiggs had attained the ordinary stature in the speculative world, and who, when his friends were exposed and his schemes came to naught, plunged into the waters of San Francisco Bay, was a drivelling sen timental idiot beside him. Only John I. air, the g ambler , drunkard and murderer, . who delud ed an entire nation at a time it is still proud to look upon as one of the most advaneed intellectual epochs of its history, and the shrewd money-lenders of a dozen European capitals ; acid that wort derful product of our own century, the German-Jew adventurer, Dr. Bethel Hen- ry Strousberg, who, playing all parts in his time, from the "Converted Jew" London to the school master in New Or leans, became the greatest builder of rail: roads the world has ever known, and was finally convicted of swindling in Moseow, threatened with banishment to Siberia, and is now a penniless exile from Russia and Germany—only these two men are large enough in the sphere in which they moved ' to be named with the dead railroad king 4 of the South American republics. Henry Meiggs was born in Green °nun- . ' ty, N. Y., in 1811. When scarcely out of his teens he became known as a success ful lumber dealer in Boston, and for his ability to manage great enterprises. But' Boston was not large enough a field for his far-reaching genius, and he removed to . New York, where he soon femme the larg est operator in lumber, a noted patrOn of art, upon which he lavished large sums, and conspicuous for the readiness wjth which he would enlist in any new sputa- lation or assist a struggling friend. The f 'panic of 1837—he was then only twenty six years of age—crippled the young capi talist. but be was rapidly recovering *hen the discovery of gold in California gave .a new impetus to his tremendous energy and fired his imagination with fresh dreams of the immense wealth which was his, aim. Starting from New York, he landed at San Francisco in July, 1819, with a cargo of lumber, on which he immediately real ized a profit of $50,000. He then em• barked in the lumber trade on the Pacific coast; he made money by the hundreds of thousands of dollars—spending it as free ly—and before the panic of 1854 struck California was thought to be the richest man in a State where millionaires had been of mushroom growth. The disaster of that year was, however, fatal to his fortunes, not so much because of his own. losses, it is said, as because of his efforts to save his friends—and nobody has ever doubted his liberal, generous nature—and he fell. He forged commercial notes and city warrants • to the amount of a million dollars, and suddenly sailed in a vetted he had purchas ed for his flight, as he said afterwards, he knew not where himself, but anywhere to escape his crime. He was next heard of as Superintendent of bridges on the Val paraiso and Santiago Railway of Chili ; for twenty years he has been famous as the railroad king of South America and as a conductor of some of the grandest modern enterprises. He built more than 1,500 miles of railroad in Peru and Chili ; he reclaimed enormous tracts of land and be came the greatest land owner in South ' America; he built villas by the score ; he purchased Congresses and bribed Presi• • dents; he made $1,500,000, $3,000,000 and $4,000,000 each in single enterprises, and his riches, or reputed riches, became so vast that they could not be estimated. He was an immense man physically as well - as intellectually, and had the biggest hand and of any man in South Ameri , He lived like an Emperor—not like a vule. gar prince—and built himself a palace- , with seventy apartments. There were al ways thirty or forty guests at his board and the remnants of the feast were daily distributed to the poor. But the end came at last. The gigantic system of frau , - - bribery, speculation and extravagant expenditure he bad established could not last forever, nor even for his lifetime. One by one his wild schem - came to g rief. He built one road one hurt dred and thirty miles long, with a • grade of four and a half feet, which furnishes neither freight nor passengers, and over which only ono train runs weekly. The end was ruin, and Meiggs died broken and bankrupt, and the gigantic fabric be reared will prove to be but an empty bubble. Of course there is a moral in the career, de cline and death of the man, but it need not be elaborated. It is this, that every violation of law, whether of nature, or' physics, or of morals, or even of trade,' must inevitably bear retributive justice._ COULDN'T MANAGE VIZ f r ANTALOONEL —A woman out in Polk county, becoming converted to the doctrines of Dr. Mary Walker, took advantage of her husband's absence to array herself in his clothes. She put on the coat first, and, ignoring the buttons, pinned it up from tha chin down. Then she put on the vest, back in front, and toilesomely buttoned it up behind. That was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. At about half past 6, her husband found her seated on the side of the bed in a dis ordered room, weeping, her hair down, face red, eyes inflamed, and her whole mental being convulsed with excitement, impa tience and anger. She held his Sunday pantaloons in her hands, and all those three mortal hours, she had been trying to get them over her head.—Buffalo Com mercial. "FATHER, i 9 Jack a better name than John ?" "No my son. Jack is very in elegant. Say John always." "Well fath er, I saw you sling that boot-john at * eat last night out of the bath-room "Inclow." NO. 10. 1~
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers