VOL. 42. Ile Huntingdon Journal. Office in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street. TILE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every Friday by J. A. Lissa, at $2,00 per annum IN ADVANCE, or $1.50 if not paid for in six months from date of sub scription, and 13 if not paid within the year. :7'o paper discontinued, unless at the option of the pub lisher, until all arrearages are paid. No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless absolutely paid for in advance. Transient advertisements will be inserted at TWELVE AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first insertion, esystir AND A-HALT CENTS for the second and FIVE CENTS per line for all subseq dent insertions. Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements will be inserted at the following rates: 3m I 1 yr 3nl 16m 6 m 1 9m 1- .. - 1 9 m1lYr -...._ 110 1 93 501 4 501 5 50 800 1 /col l 900 18 00 $27 $36 2 " 500 8 00!10 00 12 00 (col 1 18 00 36 00 50 65 3 " 7 00110 00114 00 18 00 %col, 34 00 50 00 651 80 4 " 8 00114 00120 00 18 00 1 c 01136 00 60 00 801 100 All Resolutions of Associations, Communications of limited or individual interest, all party annonucements, 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 .st rates. Professional Cards• TA CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street. 1/. Office formerly occupied by Meesrs. Woods & Wil iiamson. [apl2,'7l DR. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. Office, No. 623 Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan4,7l DR. HYSKILL has permanently located in Alexandria to practice hie profession. [jan.4 '7B-Iy. 1 C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E. J Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '7B. GEO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-atZaw, 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [n0v17,'75 G.L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building, No. 520, Penn Street. Unntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l HC. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn . Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l T SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, lluntingdon, • Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd Street. [jan4,'7l JT W. MATTEItN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim . 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. Ljan4,"7l S. GEISSINGKR, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, . Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. ZO Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [febs,'7l Q E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., 0. office in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt and careful attention given to all legal business. [augs,'74-limos WILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Iluntibg 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 Miscellaneous NOTICE mt TO CONSUMERS. -OF ~0 4 / # I it Jr: TOBACCO 91'4 C." The great celebrity of our TIN TAG TOBAC ECO has caused 'many imitations thereof to be , d ,placed on the market, we therefore caution all g Chewers against purchasing such imitations. All dealers buying or selling other plug tobac co bearing a hard or metallic label, render them selves fable to the penalty of the Law, and all persons violating our trade marks are punisha ble by fine and imprisonment. SEE ACT OF CONGRESS, AUG. 14, 1876. .. The genuine LORILLARD TIN TAG TO e,BACCO can be distinguished by a TIN TAG on .each lump with the word LORILLARD stamped .7 : thereon. 0 Over 7,088 tons tobacco sold in 1877,and nearly .3,000 persons employed in factories. Taxe's paid Government in 1877 about $3,500,- I-4000, and daring the past 12 years, over $20,000,- 1 ; 4 , These goods sold by all jobbers at manufac turers rates. [mchB-3m E AVERILL BARLOW - , 45 South Second Street, (BELOW MARKET,) PHILADELPHIA, PA. Has a great variety of the new styles Queen Anne and Eastlake FURNITURE, IN ASH OR WALNUT, together with a large Stock of all the Latest Designs of Chamber, Parlor, Library, Dining Room, Church, Office and C 0 TTA GE FURNITURE. Also, WOVEN WIRE BEDS, springs of various patterns. BEDDING, MAT TRESSES, of every quality. Folding and Orien tal Chairs, Piano Stools, Inc., at VERY LOW PRICES. [ jan2s '7B-ly FOR SALE. CHOICE FARMING LANDS MINNESOTA AND DAKOTA, BY THE Winona & St. Peter Railroad Co. The WINONA & ST. PETER R. R. Co., is now offering for Sale, at VERY LOW prices, its land grant lands along the line of its Railroad in Southern Minnesota and Eastern Dakota, and will receive in payment therefor, at par, any of the Mortgage Bonds of said Company. These lands lie in the great wheat belt of the Northwest, in a climate unsurpassed for healthfulness, and in a coun try which is being rapidly settled by a thriving and indus trious people, composed to a large extent of farmers, from the Eastern and the older portions of the Northwestern States. H. M. BURCIIARD, Land Agent, for sale of Lands of said Company, at MARSHALL, LYON COUNTY, MINNE SOTA. GEO. P. GOODWIN, Land Commissioner. General Office of Chicago & Chicago, 111. To all persons requesting information, by mail or oth erwise, Circulars and Mape will be sent free of cost by said Land Commissioner or said Land Agent. [mchl-6m Manhood : How Lost, How Restored. Just published, a new edition of Dr. 4 0,(j's Culverwell's Celebrated Essay on the radi ,=== mmi --- cal cure (without medicine) of SPEEMATOR, REIGIA or Seminal Weakness, Involuntary Seminal Losses, lapovxNcy, Mental and Physical Inca pacity, Impediments to Marriage, etc.; also, CONSUMPTION, EPILEPSY and Firs, induced by self-indulgence, or sexual extravagance, &c. *sr Price, in sealed envelope, only six cents. The celebiated author, in his Admirable Essay, clearly demonstrates, from a thirty years' successful practice, that the alarming consequences of self-abuse may be radically cured without the dangerous use of internal medicine or the application of the knife ; pointing out a mode of cure at once simple, certain, and effectual, by means of which every sufferer, no matter what his condi tion may be, may cure himself cheaply, privately, and radically. 461 — This Lecture should be in the hands of every youth and every man in the land. Sent under seal, in a plain envelope, to any address, post-paid, on receipt of six cents or two postage stamps. Address the publishers. THE CULVERWELL MEDICAL CO., 41 Ann St., H. Y; Post O f fice Box, 4586. April 12-1878-Iy. CHEVINGTON COAL AT THIC Old "Landon Yard," in quantities to suit purchasers by the ton or car load. Kindling wood cut to order, Pine Oak or Hickory. Orders left at Judge Miller's store, at my residence, 609 Mifflin st., or Gust; Raymonds may 3,'78-Iy.] J. H. DAVIDSON. NOW IS THE TIME TO SECURE TERRITO RY FOR OR, EGLE'S GREAT WORK, THE NEW ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Ol? PENNSYLVANIA_ The grandest selling book for the Pennsylvania field. Lib eral terms to Agents. Send $2.00 at once for complete outfit, or 10 cents for onr 64 page sample, and name terri tory wanted. Address D. Q. Goodrich, Pulaisher, HARRISBURG, PA. Don't jail to say tohat paper you saw this in. [mB-Em. Mercantile Appraiser's List. APPRAISER'S RETURN OF MER CANTILE AND OTHER LICENSE TAX for Huntingdon County. I Samuel G. Isett, duly appointed appraiser of Mercantile and other Li cense Tax in asd for Huntingdon county, do here by certify that the following is a correct list for the year 1878, of every person or firm, who is act ually subject to pay a License Tax, under exist ing laws of this Commonwealth, in Huntingdon county, with the names of all persons exonerated on appeal stricken off. Hatfield & Co Philips Wm., & Son Walker E.P. Birmingham Borough Thompson John Barree Township. Crownover 11 Crowno,er & Bro Crownover A Burnham A. P Fouse B. R Houck Amon. Fisher & Miller l3 10 00 Reckert &Co l3 10 00 Reed .1...7 l3 10 00 Toole Felix l4 700 Lewis Royer 6 50 00 Cassrille Borough. Green J. B. F Heato❑ J. 0 Dewees SE Co. Flanigan L. W Brown Wm Bathurst H. A Ewing A. 0 Reilly M. G Africa D. E. l4 700 Brown, James A Buchanan k Son Beyer A. Black T. W l4 700 Black T. W l4 700 Black J. H. &Co l4 700 Brown, Philip l4 700 Bricker Wm l4 7O , Beck & Fleming l4 700 Cunningham J. 0 l4 700 Carmon J. R ll 15 00 Crites W. K l4 700 Darborrow J. B& Co Denny & McMurtrie l2 12 50 Decker David Fisher W. H l4 700 Greenburg 11 l4 700 Owln D. P l4 700 Glazier & Bro Holtzworth IL E l2 12 50 Henry &Co 8 30 00 Hagey John l4 700 Haunigar Mrs. M l4 700 Johnston, George W 1:1 10 00 Jacobs B l4 700 Jacobs &Co l3 10 00 Kennedy Wm Leister John l4 700 Lewis T. J l2 It 50 Lewis Wm ll 15 00 McCullough, Samuel l2 12 50 McCullough J. H l4 700 Montgomery T. W l3 10 00 March Mrs. J l3 10 00 Neal & Long l4 700 Port & Warfel, Billiards 5O 00 Roman H l4 700 Robinson H. C l3 10 00 Read John & Sons. Read John & Sone, Patent Medicines 4 500 Smith S. S. & Son l4 700 Smith 8. S. &Son, Patent Medicines 4 50C Stewart & Flenner l3 10 00 Shafer George l4 700 Simineon E. M Thomas J.H l4 700 Wolf 8 l3 10 00 Westbrook R. 8 l4 700 Warfel, George l4 700 York C. F. &Co Tenter J l3 10 CO Juniata Township. Grube Martin,Dietiller • Jackson nionship. Green &Gregory l4 7 Ofi Iluston,Green &Co l4 700 Huston, Green & Co. l4 700 Harper A. W l4 700 Little, George E l4 700 Logan Co. No. 2 lO 20 00 Mcßurney & Nephew l3 10 00 Lincoln Township. Cohn Simon. Item J. & Co Davis Wm l4 700 Graffiti' E. W l3 10 00 •- ii;IZJOhn H Wait T. C Isett & Thompson l2 12 50 Mapleton Borough. Rex M. L Markluburg Borough McMurtrie E. D NE. Union Borough. Adams T. II Cerman A. E l4 700 Ewing A. G SteveneF. D l2 12 50 Wolf B Orbisonia Borough. Km& A. & Bro l2 12 50 Orbison T.E l2 12 50 Porter Calvin, Patent Medicines 4 500 Reed C. 11 l2 12 50 Royer, Downing &Co Pheasant A. M Oneida TOVlallip. Green Barton l4 7 OC Lowery & Eichelberger Penn Township. Grove J. A. ...... Grove A. F. Johnston A Shirleysburg Borough Brewster W. 11. Kerr W. H Brewster J. G Shope & Hudson Springfield Township. Brewster, J. C Luck D Montgomery & Co Swan W. C Blair J. M Jones & Burdge Three Springs Borough. Covert & Stevens l3 10 00 Heck E. G Stevens F. D. & Co. Douglass, Joseph Lagle George, Brewer 7 2E. 00 States George Irarriormiark Totunship. Funk David.., Funk David, Patent Medicines 4 5 00 Houck S. H _ _ Mattern J. H. & Bro. Robinson W. H....—. Cresewell & Porter. Confer & Co. Hewitt St Bell March M. Patent Medicines Oburn Joseph Ruruberger & Bro Troutwine Samuel Petersburg Co—operative store l3 10 o'6 SAMUEL G. ISETT, Mercantile Appraiser. LIST OF HOTELS. Railway Co., ' Metcalf, 11. 7 . Dudley Borough. Gould, E. F 5 50 CO Horton, D. F . 5 50 OC Huntingdon Borough. John. Hough, J. NV Hallman, W. S Leister, Henry. . .. 5 60 00 Miller, John S. . . 5 60 00 Moebue, Frederick 5 60 CO Thomas, George. . 5 50 0'../ Morris Township. RaBlett, R. F Shadc Gap Borough McGowei, Wm . . 5 50 00 Welsh Wm 6 50 00 Chamberlain, James ... . . . 5 50 00 West Township. Chamberlain, Henry . 5 50 00 Graflius,Abrallana. SAMUEL 0. ISETT, Mercantile Appraiser. 2 7_4r -All license not lifted on or before the let of July, 1878, will be left in the hands of a Justice of the Peace for collection. ti. ASIIMAN MILLER, Mayl7-4t; County Treasurer. NOTICE OF ADMINISTRATION [Estate of GEORGE WELLS, dec'd.] Letters of Administration having been granted to the undersigned, living in Huntingdon, on the estate of my late husband, George Wells, late of said borough deceased, all persons knowing them selves indebted to said estate will make payment without delay, and those having claims against the same, will present them properly authenticated for settlement. ELLA WELLS, apr26-6t] Administratrix. TOYS AND GAMES OF ALL KINDS Just received at the JOURNAL Store. r iuntingedon Journal. Class. License. Alexandria Borough. 12 $l2 50 12 12 50 14 700 13 10 00 14 7 00 14 7 00 14 7 00 Brady Township, 13 10 00 11 15 too Broad Top City. 13 10 00 Carbon lownship. 14 7 00 14 7 00 Cromwell Township. 9 25 00 Coulmont Borough, 14 7 00 Dudley Borough. 14 7 00 Franklin Township, 14 _7 00 13 10 00 14 7 00 Iluntingasn Borough. H 7 00 ~... 14 7 00 Mom's Township. It 7 00 10 2000 Porter Township. 14 7 C.) 13 lt.) lto Shirley Township. 13 10 00 13 10 00 Saßill° Borough 14 7 00 14 700 14 700 Shade Gap Borough 13 10 00 ~ l4 700 Tell Township. 14 7 00 Walker Township. 14 7 00 12 12 50 14 7 00 West Township, 14 7 00 13 10 6 ]3 lo Up 13 10 0 - 0 13 10 0 0 14 70 0 . . Class. License. Brady Township. 5 50 00 ...... 5 50 00 1, Township. Eke fflusts' It'll Nebber Come no Mo'. lee been waitin' long for de good old time Dat'll nebber come no mo' ;: When I used to rock, an' work, an' sing, In de little cabin do'. My Sam was dar wid his fiddle ; Po' Sam, he's gone—done dead— Dead for de want ob food an' clothes, An' de shelter oberhead. An' little Mose—well, he's dead, too— How he used to dance an' sing; While Jim, an' Polly, an' all de rest, Went "roun' an' roun' de ring." Ole Missis—bless her dear ole soul Would laff till her sides gib way ; An' Massa'd stop at my cabin, just To say, "How's ole Mammy to-day ?'' De boys—l mean ole Massa's boys— Dey lubed ole Mammy, too, Who nussed 'em—eb'ry blessed one, Clean down to little Mass' Loo. PO' Mass' Loo 1 He went to de fight, But he nebber come back no mo' ; We hear dat he fall, wid a bullet in de breast, In de front ob de battle ro'. He put his arm around my neck, An' say, "Mammy, I lub you so I" lie didn't see no harm in dat, Do' his Mammy was black an' po' Ole Misses died wid a broken heart, Wnen de las' ob de boys was killed ; An Massa bowed his head, an' cried Dat his cup ob sorrow was filled. An' yer I've sot a waitin' an' watchin' For de good time comin' no mo' ; An' I bear ole Missis a callin' Mammy, Across from de odder sho'. tritt-Etiltr. DORA'S DELUSION. Dora Guild was the daughter of an In dian general who died, covered with fame, and left her alone and literally friendless in Bombay, where he breathed his last. His dying words were : "Go home, my poor girl, to your Aunt Arlingford at Eimsley, near London, and stay with her until you are married to Walter." For General Guild and Colonel Cray had been friends together and comrades in many a battle, and had long ago affianced their motherless children to one another, the wedding to take place as soon as the young man had attained his majority. So here was the orphan girl nearing the end of her long journey, and gazing wist fully at the strange and unfamiliar land of her birth. There was one clause in her dead father's will which had recurred to Dora's mind with ever present pain, ever since she had first heard it; and that was, should she, upon making the acquaintance of Walter Cray, refuse to marry him, the bulk of her fortune should be passed over to her cousin, Penelope Arlingford That her dear father should think it necessary to coerce her into compliance had wrung from her many a tear. Wholly unversed in the strong-minded ways of some English maidens, she had never dreamed of disobeying him, or choosing a mate for herself. The journey was over at last. Miss Guild found herself in a quiet country house, surrounded by the most fervent assurances of welcome from her sole surviving relatives, who, of course, knew all about her affairs, and treated her with the most delicate consideration. Mr. Arlingford was a bluff and hearty gentleman farmer, Mrs. Arlingford, a re served lady, who, however seemed kind ness itself; while Penelope, the only daughter, and Dora's possible rival for the fortune, was a gentle faced, chestnut-haired girl of twenty, who greeted Dora by wind ing her arms round her and laying her cheek to hers without a word. In the course of the evening of Miss Guild's arrival, while she was giving her aunt some account of her voyage from India, she observed her cousin Penelope standing out on the lawn, talking earnestly with a gentleman. It was a brilliant night in midsummer ; the moon, white and searching as a great time light, shone on the pair, and showed Miss Arlington's companion to be not only young and handsome, but also a lover. His hand held hers, and his stately head was often bent in unmistakable adoration close to her tresses, while she leaned to wards him with all the loving confidence of a returned affection. Very soon they entered the parlor, and Walter Cray was directly presented to Miss Guild. And he the lover of Penelope ! Dismay. consternation, fell upon the heart of the orphan. There could be no mistake—every lock, every action of the two betrayed it. _ _ She was affianced to a uian who loved another. The cold touch of his band on hers, the distant salutation, as if she were the merest stranger, proclaimed that he was resolved to ignore the contract which was between them. Dora shrank into the darkest corner of the room, and hitter disappointment filled her soul. Very soon, however, the conversation going on round the table arrested her at tention. Walter Cray was telling Mr. Arlingford and Penelope an account of a strange murder which had lately occurred. "The man," said he, "was rather a clever chemest, and accomplished his purpose in a manner savoring more of the exploits of the Arabian Nights' epoch than those of our day. He got possession of her journal, and impregnated its leaves with a sort of volatile poison, which she of course in haled the first time she made a record in the book, the result being a mysterious death which no one could account for." The eyes of Penelope Arlingford were fixed upon the narrator with a pulsating eagerness which arrested the attention of the orphan. "What could it have been ?" she almost whispered. "Don't believe it," remarked Mr. Ar lingf'ord, sententiously. The lovers were gazing at each other, and there was a half smile on the features of each other. Soon after this, Dora, being considered weary after her railway journey, was con ducted to the bed-chamber by her cousin, who again embracing her in a mute, cling ing fashion, hoped she would rest well, and left her. Not one word had been said about her betrothal to the young man in the parlor ; her claims had been wholly ignored. Her cousin was likely not only to rob her of her inheritance, but of her husband also. The young girl retired to bed with a feelinc , of desolation about her heart which n3ay be easily imagined, and fell asleep weeping bitterly for the old, happy Indian life, when she was the idol of her father, and the darling of her ayah. HUNTINGDON, PA,, FRIDAY, MAY 31, 1878. She awoke—or, rather, sln struggled back to consciousness—with these words running through her mind—"the result being a mysterious death, which no one could account fur." It was a disagreeable remark to occur to one in the middle of the night, and it roused her to a preternatural wakefulness. She began to ponder over the events of the past evening, when suddenly some thing struck her ear that sent the blood tingling' to her heart. It was like the trailing of a long muslin robe over the thick carpet which covered the floor, and the cautious rustling of paper ; the one sound followed the other with the slow and regular monotony of a machine. The night was at its darkest, and the head of the bed was in a cove, so that the room could not be seen ; but Dora divined, with a choking of the breath, the meaning of the strange sounds. Penelope Arlingford was in the room ! Before she retired, Dora had read a chapter from a large old Bible which lay on her table. She perfectly recollected placing it in the end of the sofa near the window when she had finished reading it. _ . She felt that her rival was on her knees before the book, impregnating its leaves with "volatile poison" which Walter Cray had spoken of, and that as she finished each leaf, and turned it slowly over, her long muslin sleeve swept the edge of the book making the stealthy sound which had aroused her intended victim. Remember, she bad grown up amid scenes of passion and violence ; she had been among the helpless ones at Cawnpore when the Sepoys massacred their victims in cold blood ; and death was not so strange a weapon in the hands of a young girl, to her, as it would be to us; nay, it seemed the one weapon by which Penelope Ar lingford would most likely strike for love and wealth. Motionless, her eyes distended, the cold dew of agony dripping from her every limb, the orphan girl lay and listened to this evidence of treachery. _ . All at once a board at the side of the bed creaked, as though a weary foot was passing over it, and the long swish of the garments followed. Then the door softly burst open as if without hands, a flow of air from the pas sage rushed across the girl's rigid face, and she heard, amid the suffocating throbbings in her ears, the first crow of 'some neighboaing chanticleer. Her terror enled in a swoon. When she came to herself it was broad daylight. The golden sunshine was laying across her pillow, and the rich perfume of honey suckles came in through the open window and filled the pretty chamber. All seemed peace and innocence around her, but the soul of the orphan girl was filled with astonishment. 'he could scarcely arrange her thoughts at first, so terrible was the ordeal through which she had passed; but at length she saw that she must leave the house imme diately ; that she must relinquish both her affianced and her fortune, if she would feel her life safe. ' . oh, papa! my papa !" wept poor Dora, "you have made a terrible mistake !" When she joined the family, in answer to the breakfast bell, she was in her travel ing dress, and her trunks were all repacked. "Why, cousin Dora, what is the mat ter ? Are you ill, dear ?" exclaimed Pen elope, in a soft, cooing voice, which seemed habitual to her. Dora turned her back on her midnight visitor, and, striving to speak calmly, said to Mr. Arlingford, "I wish to go to Lon don to-day, sir. Please allow some one to drive me to the station." There was a pause of consternation, then they all with one accord began to plead with her to change her mind, and none of the three were so urgent or so tenderly loving about it as Penelope. "Just try us, dear cousin !" she en treated. "Of course you will be lonely at first—everything is so different—but who will make you happier than we can y Has anybody offended you, dear Dora ?" "No," answered Dora, shuddering; "but I shall prefer to live alone." "You are so young, so ignorant of the ways of our towns," said quiet Mrs. Ar lingford, hero chiming in anxiously. "It is a mad thing for you to think of, child." "I roust go," responded the orphan, averting her pallid face that the dark misery of it might not be seen. So, when the persuasions of himself, and the pleadings and tears of his women availed not, Mr. Arlingford got offended, and cried, "Let her please herself, Pensie. Ring and order Sam to bring the carriage round." Dora swallowed a cup of tea, and choked down a morsel of bread, and then she went back to the room to put on her hat. Locking the trunks took but a few mo ments. She flung herself upon a chair, and wept silently, feeling herself to be the most desolate and friendless being on the face of the earth. " What should she do in London ? Go to her father's lawyer and tell him she did not wish to marry Walter Cray, then live alone in such lodgings as the remnant of her fortune could afford her. Ah ! it was, indeed, a terrible mistake, that clause in the will. But into the midst of her musings stole a sound which thrilled her once more with awe. The swish of a garment, the rustle of a paper just as it aroused her last night. Dora gazed around her like one bereft of reason. The large, old Bible lay quiet enough and closed exactly where she had placed it—no living thing was in the room but herself. And then she saw the whole mystery. The window was partly open, and a slight puff of wind had blown the crisp white curtains in the room, then receding, had sucked them outward through the aperture, while the imprisoned air, running up the blind, had caused the tissue paper hanging at the top to rustle. Then came another puff—the trail of the curtain over the carpet, the rustle of the paper hanging. Dora sat gazing at the window, her face, in its astounding thankfulness, a study for on artist. At this mome❑t Penelope came in. She had evidently been weeping. "The carriage is ready, dear cousin," sighed she, tremulously. Dora passed her hand over her forehead, then, facing her rival, asked, in a hurried tone : "Were you-up last night any time, Miss Arlingford ?" • "Yes," answered Penelope, in surprise. "About four o'clock I rose and shut my window. The wind was rising." "Did you hear a cock crow as you did o ?" "Yes, I did. Why do you ask, dear ? Stay ! I know why ! You were frightened by hearing a board creak beside your bed. I should have told you about that board ; how stupid of me !" "I heard a board creak," said Dora, scarcely believing her own ears. "Yes, it ought to be fastened down. It runs the whole breadth of the house, and when I tread on one end of it in my room the other end creaks in this, Listen !" She ran across the passage, shutting the door after her, and in a moment the veri table creaking commenced, accompanied by the clicking of the door, which had so petrified Dora. When the young lady returned, the ex pression of Ler cousin's features was so altered that she exclaimed, 'Why, my darling girl, I do think you wanted to leave us because you thought the house was haunted." "Yes—perhaps—yes," faltered Dora, wistfully gazing at her. "You poor little darling," murmured Penelope, in a deep voice of compassion and she took Dora's unresisting hand in hers. "Why would you not tell me ? Don't you know, Dora," and a smile played around h€r lips, "that we ought to love each other dearly ? We are both going to marry a Walter Cray, and be the closest sort of cousins." "Are there two Walter Crays ?" ejacu lated Dora. "What !" cried Penelope, her counte nance slowly crimsoning as the situation burst upon her; "did you—imagine--" She never completed the sentence, but snatching up the poor, tired little orphan to her bosom, strained her there, and kissed her tearful, smiling face with kisses, which were fully returned. But Dora never revealed the whole of her terrible mistake. ~eZerz J tsctllan+ More Copy. In the sanctum, cold and dreary, sat the writer, weak ar,d weary, pondering o'er a memorandum book of items used before. (book of scrawling head notes rather ; items taking days to gather them in cold and wintry weather, using up much time and leather,) pondered we those items o'er. While we conned them, slowly rocking, through our mind queer ideas flocking, came a quick and nervous knocking— knocking at the sanctum door—" Sure that must be Jinks," we muttered—"Jinks that's knocking at our sanctum door, Jinks the everlasting bore." Ah, how well do we remind us, in the walls which then confined us, the "exchanges" lay behind us, and before us, and around us, all scat tered o'er the floor. Thought we "Jinks wants to borrow some newspapers till to morrow, and 'twill be no relief from sor row to get rid of' Jinks, the bore, by open ing wide the door." Still the visitor kept knocking, knocking louder than before. And the scattered pile of papers cut some rather curious capers, being lifted by the breezes coming through another door; and wished (the wish is evil for one deemed always civil) that Jinks was at the devil, to stay there evermore; there to find his level—Jinks, the everlasting bore ! Bracing up our patience firmer, then without another murmur, "Mr. Jinks," said we, "your pardon, your forgiveness we implore. But the fact is we were reading of some curious proceeding, and thus it was, unheeding your loud rapping there before—" Here we opened wide the door. But phancy now our pheelinks —for it wasn't Jinks, the bore—Jinks, nameless, evermore. But the form that stood before us caused a trembling to come o'er us, and memory swiftly bore us back again to days of yore ; days when items were in plenty, and where'er this writer went he picked up items by the score. 'Twas the form of our 'devil,' n attitude uncivil ; and he thrust his head within the door with "The fore man's out o' copy, sir, and he says he wants some more." Now, this "local" had already walked about till nearly dead—he had sauntered through the city till his feet were very sore —walked through the street called Evans, and the byways running into portions of the city, both public and obscure, had ex amined store and cellar, and had questioned every feller whom we met, from door to door, if anything was stirring, anything occurring, not published heretofore, and had met with no success ; he would rather kinder guess he felt a little wieked at that ugly little bore, with a message from the foreman that he wanted something more. "Now, it's time you were departing, you scamp !" cried we, upstarting ; "get you back into the office—office where you were before ; or the words that you have spoken will get your bones all broken" (and we seized a cudgel, oaken, that was lying on the floor) ; "take your hands out of your pockets and leave the sanctum door. Tell the foreman there's no copy, you ugly little bore." Quoth the devil, "Send him more !" And the devil, never sitting, still is flitting, back and forth upon the landing just outside the sanctum door. Tears adown his cheeks are streaming, a strange light from his eyes is beaming, and his voice is heard still screaming, "Sir, the foreman wants some more !" _...._...._. 4 .-_ A New Kind of Hell. Here is the latest on the Hell question : About twenty years ago an old colored preacher in Georgia was exhorting a num ber of Africans to "git on board th Gospel train and be saved from the torments of a freezing hell !" The old colored brother drew a shivering picture of how cold a place bell was, and how sinners were never permitted to get within a million miles of the faintest glimmer of a spark of fire.— At the conclusion of the services a white brother who was present attempted to cor rect the old darkey in regard to the climate of the place where the wicked are said to take up a permanent abode after death.— The white man went on to give the colored preacher an orthodox description of red hot hell—burning brimstone, bursting of mountains of seethinc , ' lava, scorching lime, rivers of coal, etc. When the white man finished, the old colored preacher took him by the hand and whispered privately in his ear. "Fur de lub ob de lamb, Massa, don you nebber tell de coons about here ob such a hot bell; of sum ob de ole rhumatic niggers wus to find dat out, dey'd want to go to hell de fast frost, sure 1" A young lawyer, who had been admitted about a year, was asked by a friend, "How do you like your new profession ?" The reply was accompanied by a brief sigh to suit the occasion : "My profession is much better than my practice.' SUBSCRIBE for the JOURNAL Obrien, the Bonanza Prince. STARTING A "BIT" HOUSE IN CALIFORNIA -HOW O'BRIEN, MACKEY AND FLOOD DEVELOPED THE "BIG BONAN Z O'BRIEN'S PERSONAL TRAITS. From an interview with a personal friend of W. S. O'Brien, published in the New York Herald, of Saturday, we make the following extract "Shortly after Mr. O'Brien's arrival in California he formed the acquaintance of Mr. Flood, and, I think, that soon afterward they started what was called there, and is to this day, a “bit" house. The "bit" houses were different from the hotel bars in this particular, that the latter charged two "bits," or a quarter of a dollar, for a drink. Mr. O'Brien continued in that business for some years until he amassed considera ble money, and then he commenced specu lating in the stocks of the different mines there. It was about this time that he form ed the acquaintance of Mackey, the real discoverer of the Big Bonanza, known as the Virginia Consolidated, and the adjoin ing California Mine, both of which proved very rich. Previous to this time Mr. Mackey had been working as a miner. It is generally believed that Mackey led Flood & O'Brien into the secret of' the richness of those mines, and they, taking advantage of the information, went to work, and, I think, spent at least $1,000,- 000 before striking the ore. They worked patiently and in secret for two or three years, relying solely on the information imparted by Mackey, and were ultimately well rewarded for their outlay. Their op erations were carried on in such a manner that none outside of their immediate friends knew the progress they weremaking or the almost fabulous wealth of mineral they were approaching. When the goal was fin. ally reached the stock on the market jumped from something like $6O or $7O to about $BOO per share. AN UNASSUMING MAN "In disposition Mr. O'Brien was a re markable man, and, notwithstanding his great wealth, he was noted for his plain and unassuming manners. I don't think be was known to ever drive more than one horse at a time. Whoever he took a liking to, if he found them financially distressed he never failed to open his purse to them. I know of one gentleman in particular who had been in business all his life and considered himself rich after making about $50,000, and who was so advised by Flood & O'Brien in regard to the judicious in vestment of his money, that after speculat ing a short time in mining stocks he found himself a millionaire. The firm of Flood & O'Brien unlike many other bankers, were never known to deceive strangers who sought their advice in regard to in vesting money. I remember that just be fore the stock of the Virginia Consolidated went down a friend of mine asked the ad vice of Mr. O'Brien about investing some money in mining stocks. His reply was, "Go and invest your money in ten per cent. gas stock of San Francisco." In a short time afterward the Virginia Consoli dated and California Mining stock went down, and has remained depressed ever since. Mr. O'Brien was a clever, whole souled man and I don't believe he ever re fused assistance to any one who asked him for aid. He was free and jovial in his disposition, and never ignored the compan ions of his early days. Iu regard to his wealth, it can be safely stated that he was worth at least $20,000,000 at the time of his death. How to Make a Kite. The Inter- Ocean, in answer to a boy's request, "flow to make a good kite—some thing that will fly"—gives the following : Get a straight-grained pine stick, three quarters of an inch wide, one quarter thick and four feet long. Next, procure a good ash hoop, split it, and have it the same length as the piece of pine, nearly. Find the centre of the hoop, and fasten it at that point to the straight stick, about an inch from the end. This may be done by lacing it with strong twine. (Jut a notch in each end of the hoop, pass it around the pine stick, then fasten it to the other end of the hoop, and draw the ends of the hoop to• gether so the top will be round, of good shape. Then pass the string to the long end of the stick, through a hole bored for it, to the end of the hoop, where it was first fastened, and secure it. This makes the frame. It may be covered with paper, but thin glazed cotton is better. Lay the frame on the material, and cut out the cov ering, leaving about an inch all around. Then paste the edge of the paper on cloth, bring it over the frame, and see that it is fastened all around. When it is dry, the belly-band may be put on. Bore two holes through the back pieces, each one third of the way from the end, and put through a string knotted at each end with a loop in it, to which to fasten the fly-string. The tail should be about twelve times as long as the kite. The bobs of the tail should consist of paper about three inches long and an inch and a half broad, folded four times and tied on the string of the tail, about three inches apart. If the kite dives, add to the weight of the tail. If it refuses to fly, lighten it. Attach the fly string, and let it go. Now, if the boys can't make it, it is not our fault. One Hundred Years Ago. One hundred years ago not a pound of coal, not a cubic foot of illuminating gas had been burned iu this country. No iron stoves were used, and no contrivance for economizing heat was employed until Dr Franklin invented the iron-framed fire. place, which still bears his name. All the cooking and warming in tcwn and country were done by the aid of fire, kindled in the brick oven or on the hearth. Pine knots or tallow candles furnished the lights for the long winter nights, and sanded floors supplied the place of rugs and car pets. The water used fur household pur poses was drawn from deep wells by the creaking sweep. No form of pump was used in this country, so far as we can learn, until after the commencement of the pres ent century. There were no friction matches in those early days, by the aid of which a fire could be easily kindled; and if the fire "went out on the hearth" over night, and the tinder was damp so that the sparks would not catch, the alternative was presented of wandering through the snow a mile or so to borrow a brand of a neigh bor. Only one room in any house was warm, unless some of tho family were ill; in all the rest the temperature was at zero many nights in the winter. The men and women of a hundred years ago undressed and went to their beds in a temperature colder than that of our modern barns and wood-sheds and they never complained. A CHRISTIAN'S robe will become soiled irbe wears them too flowingly. Foi the JOURNAL.] The Nine Parts of Speech. Grammarians say, "the parts of speech, In number are but nine ;" No matter whether we see or hear, (Jr feel or smell or dine. A Noun's the name of anything Of which we form some notion ; As man or boy, or house or tree, And things which have got motion. Articles are a, an and the Because the nouns they limit; A tree ; an ox, the man, the fox, A gun with which to shoot it. The Adjective describes the kiud Of pronoun and of noun, As "mellow apple, brilliant star," high tree or pleasant town. A noun can also have some help, For Verbs express their actions, You know girls sing, boys run and jump ! And both can add up tractions. An Adverb modifies the verb, The adverb and adjective, As, take, 0, boatman, thrice thy fee And freely me forgive. The Pronouns stand instead of nouns To shun clumsy expressions ; Not Mary has torn Mary's book— But—John has learned his lessons. If we some words would wish to join, Or phrases put together, We use Conjunctions in between As, that's as strong as leather. With nouns and pronouns we have need To use the Preposition, Which, placed between, or set before, Shows their exact position. Last, we have the Interjection Which tells us our emotions, As, 0, how sad! Ah, what is life ? Indeed ! what funny notions ! "De Sun do Move." TIIE REV. JOHN JASPER, L. L. DARKEY, OF RICH MOND,SEARCHES DE RECORD,TAKES DE FLO', PROVES DAT DE EARTH DON'T TURN NO SUMMERSETS AND LIGHTS OUT DE DO'. The Rev. Mr. Jasper who has so bril liantly and powerfully defied the scientific world because the Bible is on his side, has appeared on the lecture platform in Wash ington. This modern Joshua, who has commanded dater sun to stop blowin', who has indeed darkly eclipsed the scien tific sun, has been reported by the Wash ington Post. He arose and said he "would prove that the sun - do stand still ; prove it from the leds of the Bible." He "didn't know nothin' about outsiders; and dealt only with God's 'Word, which war writ by holy men inspired by the Spirit of God, moved upon by the Holy Ghost and au thorized by God's authority to light a lamp for the feet and prepare a guide for the path." He was not a grammarian, and had "never been to school in his life, ex cept seven months' thumbing of a New York spelling book, but had been directed to studying the Bible and had asked God, for Jesus Chrises sake, to lighten him." He then described his conversion, his en trance into the ministry and the manner in which he was brought into this argu ment. He had preached it by request four times, on each occasion his white hearers increasing in number. Then, warming with his subject and rising equal to the emergency, he plunged into the famous sermon which has carried the name of Jasper all over the country. "Ladies and gentlemen," said ha, "be fore proving, as I have been formerly do, that the surido move, I shall go into Egypt extensively, and after devouring my sub ject will then travel into Canaan and show by the Lord's own mouth that the sun gits up in the morning in the East, wha you kin see him if you wants to, and goes over houses and trees and territories and co't houses till he goes down in the West, what he hasteneth back again to the starting place. Now that the Lord is a man of war, just take notice of Exodus fifteenth chapter and third verse, and 'sense me for wandering around in Egypt, for I shall not undertake to prove that the sun do move until I git over into Canaan.— From the creation until the flood when the Lord drowned everybody but Noah and his family was 1,656 years. Then 400 yerrs after, when the world had got de multiplied with people pretty thick like, the Lord took Abraham out, of the land of Haran, 'way from his kindred and relations, who was idolators, and after giving him a son He made up His mind to try Abram's faith. It was a so'ce of pleasure for Abra ham—'cure me for calling him Abraham, his name was Abram, but it comes kinder pat, but I don't mean it—to look at young Isaac, but the Lord said, says He, 'Abram take de boy, up to Moria's Mounting, and strap to a pile of logs for a burnt sacrifice.' Now. if Abram had been a philosopher, and hadn't had unshooken confidence, he'd have said, 'Lord, if I stick my knife in young Isaac's throat, whar ye gwine. to get another boy of mine thcbugh whom to bress the human rac3 ?' But Abram wasn't a philosopher; he beard the Lord, be saddled his ass, he rode to Moria's Mount ing, and was jess ready to make a burnt sacrifice of Isaac, when an angel of de Lord—l don't know his other name— called out to Abram, 'See here, old man, that's enough, don't kill the boy. Thar's an old ram got caught by the horns in the thicket over thar ; make a burnt sacrifice out of him !" And Abraham he begot Isaac, and Isaac he begot Jacob and Jacob he begot twelve sons, and they all went down into Egypt land, where I've been meandering all this time. Thar they stayed 400 years, and thar God said to Moses one day, 'Moses, I have heard the prayers and seen the tears and watched the cares and pitied the fears of my people down in Egypt, so you go down to the royal town, tell Pharoah bound with the dust of the crown, that I say let my people git.' But Moses hemmed and hawed and said, 'Sir, I ain't well enough acquainted down there.' And the Lord said, "You ain't, ain't you ? Well, take Aaron the Levite, and he shall be my speechman to tell Pharoah to let my people go.' So Moses went down and told Pharoah, and Pharoah, nothing would do for him till they let the frogs on him. Then he got scared, I tell you, but it took the lice and the darkness and the Destroying Angel to work him up to the sticking point. And then when he did let them go, be was sorry, and went after them with 600 chariots, filled with colonels and captains And the Lord said to Moses, "Jess tell your pfple to stand on one side and look at me, or I'm gwine to do the fight;ng this morning.' And the Lord said to one of his angels, 'Angel, git down that and unscrew Pharoah's lynch-pin, and take off his stern wheel.' And the angel did so, and then Pbarooh said, 'Let's git, boys; the Lord's doing this fight, I tell youf— Ami he went to go, but the east winds came on, and what, oh, what was Pharoah ? Then Moses he died and Joshua took com mand, and the Israelites were beaten at the city of Ai. And wherefore ? Achon, the son of Zeri, stole a magnificent Baby lonitish garment at 250 shekels of silver and a gold wedge, and hid them under hie bed. Joshua sent out 3,000 men—l for gets now, it was 3,000 or 300; anyhow they got whipped, and Joshua fell on his face and prayed, and the Lord said, 'Git up, Joshua, what's the matter with you ?' and Joshua said, '0 Lord, they licked us!' And the Lord said, 'Of course they did. Take that cursed thing away. Hain't be got the Babylonitish garment ? Hain't he got 250 shekles of silver ? Then they killed Achon and his family and went after the city and took it. Then the Gib ernites played a trick on Joshua to save their lives, and two or three days after some of the neighbors sent word and said to Joshua, 'Joshua, them fellows ain't foreigners; they live around here, and have taken you in.' But the five Kings of the Amonites, having a quarrel with the Gibernites, came down to fight them, and the Jews buckled to them. They fit, and fit, and right here I'm gwine to prove to you by this blessed book that the sun do wove, suah ! For Joshua said, 'Lord, the battle can't be foute before the sun goes down behind the Western hills.'— And the Lord said, 'Joshua, tell the sun to stand still upon Gibeon, and thou moon in the Valley of Ajalon.' So the sun stood still in the midst of the heavens and basted not to go down about a whole day. Do you want any more proof than that ? Take Hezekiah where the sun went back ten degrees. Ant Solomon says, in Ec clesiastes, i., s—'The sun riseth and the sun goeth down and hasteneth to his place where he arose.' Now, Solomon was a smart man, and knew something, and is entitled to respect, and that's what he says. Now, I want to ask the grammarians something. What is the meaning of the word 'arise ?' Don't it mean something that goes down stairs, or gets up and moves about. If I haven't proved that the sun do move then my name ain't Jasper ! Don't take my word for it; take God's.— He says so. Will you make God a liar ? But they say the earth moves, that the earth turns over. jPshaw ! An astrono mer told me it turned over and over and over ! Why don't you see if it did all the water would fall out of the rivers and we would all be drowned ! Drowned ! I tell you. And if the earth turned over all the houses would tumble down, and the ter ritories turn over, and you and I would be standing on our heads half the time. It's nonsense. "I have proved by de Bible that de sun do move. The Bible was cherished by our fathers; we kinnot do better than cherish it ourselves and teach our children to cherish it. But don't believe that the earth turns over, for you know you cannot stand on your head all night." So say ing, the Rev. John Jasper banged the Bible together and walked down to the railing, where he received the congratula tions of scores of black admirers. Palestine. The Jordan Valley is a waste, on both sides of the iver. It is one of the finest tropical countries in the world. It has nu merous f,untains and ways for irrigation. All the waters of the Jordan may be used for purposes of irrigation, so great is the fall ; and the valley is capable of sustain ing five millions of souls in comfort, and even in luxury. There are, perhaps, two hundred and fifty thousand in all Pales• tine. Some of the ancient works of this coun try still remain, because of their Cyclopean architecture and substantial character. Such are Solomon's pool and theaqueduots which might easily be repaired, awl -at a small cost comparatively. Some of the tombs of which remain were constructed at enormous cost. They were the works of princley treas• urea. Such are the tombs of the Judges, fifty five minutes walk north of Jerusalem the tombs of the King (probably the tomb of Queen Helena and her family, convert ed to Judeaism about A. D. 46), thirty-five minutes walk north of Jerusalem, and the tombs of the Prophets, so called, oa the south-west side of Mount Olivet, about half way up the side of the mount. The tombs of the Judges are on the south side of a road, or valley, whose wat ers flow to the Mediterranean, and they face Nobi Samwell and Rama to the north, where the Judges of Israel lived, and judg• ed Israel. They do not properly belong to Jerusalem. The tombs are evidently older than the tombs of the Kings, and the style of the structure is different. I have visited between twenty and thirty of these tombs on the Mediterranean side of the mountain range, but there is one which, on account of its elaborate structure and rich sculpture, is called "Tombs of the Judges." It has rooms leading into rooms, and stairways leading to rooms below and under the rooms just entered by low, nar row passages, and in the sides of these rooms are crypts, or niches, for the recep tion of the dead, and places for the illum inatine.rs lamps and smoke on the walls—in all, asl counted 61 resting places for the illustrious dead of whom not bone nor a particle of dust remains. Ste of these tombs have swinging doors cut out of the rock, and forming a part of it, and others have rolling stones, with grooves, in which the stones, cheese-shaped, may be rolled from side to side, while by its own weight on the declining plane it is restored to its place at the mouth of the sepulcher. There have been various eras of Palenstine civil ization—that of the I'benicians, of the Jews, of the Romans, of the Saracens, and of the Crusaders ; and of each era some monuments remain to this day, but for hundreds of years, since the rule of the Turk, there has been no improvement, but on the cobtrary, constant deterioration. The earth is cursed for man's sake. The state of the country follows that of the people and depends upon it. The "upper story" of the intellectual house, seems to be wanting. REV. TALMAGE told that which is only too true, the other evening, when be said "You blame papers for publishiog scandals, but if all newspapers save one should re• fuse to publish anything improper yon would drop them and buy that one obnox ious sheet. Most of you could not get along without your daily diet of horrors." "MARIAtt," remarked one of the horny handed sons of toil to his wife, "pears to me it takes a sight o' calico to make you a dress these hard times. Can't yer econo mize with one of them pull backs the city gals wear ? It was then that Mariar fired the bread-board at him, and remarked that she wasn't "going to stop the circulation of blood in her legs for no bald-beaded old penny-pincher." _ _ Detroit News : There mr6 but two men in Bay City who are not candidates for the position of City Marshal. One is dead and the other is a wooden Indian. NO. 21.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers