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.