VOL. 43.
The Huntingdon Journal.
Office in new JOURNAL Bu-
ilding, Fifth Street.
•
THE HUNTINGDON JOURN-
AL is published every
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AND A-HALF °UM for the second and FIVE CENTS per line
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Adverldsifig Agents must find their commission outside
of these ligures.
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, Ac., of every variety and style, printed
at the shortest notice. and everything in the Printing
line will be executed in the most artistic inanner and at
the lowest rates.
Professional Cards
WM. P. k R. A. ORBISON, Attorneys-at-Law, No. 321
Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. All kinds of legal
business promptly attended to. Sept.l2,'T 8.
TAR. G. B. BOTCHKIN, 825 Washington Street, Hun
1J tingdon. junel4-1878
T) CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. ill, Brd street.
I/ • Office formerly occupied by Mews. Woods & Wil
liamson. [apl2,ll
TAR. A.B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services
II to the community. Office, No. b 23 Washington street,
one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. jjand,'7l
IiTSKILL has permanently located in Alexandria
I/ to practice his profession. [jan.4 '7B-Iy.
E.C. C. STOCTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's
121. building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E.
J Greene, Huntingdon, Ps. [apl2B, '76.
GRO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street,
Huntingdon, Pa. Ln0v17,'76
GL. ROBB, Dentist, o ffi ce in S. T. Brown ' s new building,
. No. 620, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2:7l
C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn
.1. 1 .
Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l
T SYLVANtS BLAIR, A.tontey-at-Lawe Huntingdon,
el . Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd
Street. [jau4,'7l
T W. MATTERN, 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.
TS. HEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
..IJ. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo
site Court House. [febs,'7l
Cll E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa.,
1.3. office in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
and eareful attention given to all legal business.
jangs;74-limos
New Advertisements
HTJNTI
SatAilli DIMING L6OT9ING HOUSE
Is now prepared to k4T_TVT its l':, - ttrons in
GARMENTS of the VERY LATEST STYLE
And the BEST MAKE UP, at prices to suit the times. My stock of
IIEADY - IMAM CLOTIRNO
FOR MEN, YOUTHS, BOYS AND CHILDREN IS FULL.
Men's Suits for $4.00 up;
. Boys' Suits for $4.00 up ;
And. Children's Suits for $2.00 up.
330C 15 2. ff3L"'
For MEN, YOUTHS, BOYS, and CHILDREN is large, and prices low. The best line of SHIRTS,
ranging in price from 35 cents up. A large assortment of HALE-HOSE-5 pair for 25 cents,
and up to 50 cents per pair. LINEN COLLARS, 2 for 25 cents.
Suspenders, Slink Braces, and Handkerchiefs. Also, Trunks and Satchels,
All bought at BOTTOM PRICES FOR CASII,
AND WILL _l3. SOLD CIIFIA.I" 1 7 011 CA 1 1.
GENUINE PEARL SHIRT.
A SPLENDID LINE OF SAMPLES FOR SUITINGS
To be made to order, Measures taken and good Fits guaranteed,
thn't Fail to Gall and Examine my Goods and Prices before Purchasing,
DON'T FORGET THE PLACE
NEARLY OPPOSITE THE POSTOFFICE.
T. MON-TGOATERY-.
April 11, 18710.
BRONVN'S
CARP ET STORE,
JUST THE PLACE FOR HOUSEKEEPERS!
1879, FREE STOCK! NEW STYLES ! ! 1879,
cAaßanmrrag
ALL GRADES AND AT PRICES THAT CAN NOT BE UNDERSOLD
IFURINTTUR E,
The Largest Stock and variety of
Chairs, Beds, Tables, Chamber Suits, Lounges,
ROCKERS, MOULDINGS, BRACKETS, Ace., ever exhibited in Huntingdon eounty,
WALL PAPER ! WALL PAPER !
In this department I have made important changes; procured the latest improved trimmer, and my
new styles and prices for 1879, can not fail to suit purchasers. Call and see.
WINDOW SHADES and FIXTURES
in great variety. Plain, satin and figured paper, plain or gilt band shading, spring and
common fixtures.
FLOOR OIL CLOTHS
From 15 inches to 2i yards wide. Halls covered with ono solid piece without joints. [Bring diagram
and measurement.] For
PICTURE FRAMES AND LOOKING CLASSES,
This is headquarters. Mattresses, Window Cornice, and anything in the Cabinet or Upholstering line
made to order or repaired promptly.
UNDERTAKING
Also added to no Funituro & Carpet BllSillOSS.
Caskets and Burial Cases,
WOOD OR LIGHT •METALIC TO SUIT ALL. BURIAL ROBES IN VARIETY.
Ready to attend funerals in town or country. My new clerk and traveling agent, FERDINAND
Rocs, will call briefly in the principal towns, villages and valleys of this and adjoining counties,
with samples of Wall Paper, Carpets, Carpet Chain, arid illustrations of Chairs and many kinds of
Furniture, to measure rooms, dm, and receive orders for any goods in my line. If he should not
reach you in time, do not wait, but come direct to the store.
JAMES
525 1. - NINT f3T., 11UN'I'ING1_1 1 : 0 11, .
March 210879.
S. WOLF'S.
At Gwin's Old Stand,
Nut much on the blow, but always ready fur work
The largest and finest line of
Clothing, Hats and Caps,
In town :Ll' t great sacrifice. Winter Goods
20 PER CENT. UNDER COST.
Call and he convinced at S. WOLF'S, 50d Penn st
RENT AND EXPENSES REDUCED,
At S. WOLF'S. I am better al)le to sell Clothing,
Hats and Caps, Gents.' Furnishing Goode, Trunks
and Valises, CHEAPER than any other store in
town. Call at G win's old stand. S. MARCH, Agt.
•
MONEY SAVED IS MONEY EARNED
The Cheapest Place in Huntingdon to buy Cloth
ing, Hats, Caps, and Gents.' Furnishing Goods is
at S. "'OLE'S, 505 Penn street, one door west
from Express Office. S. MA h CH, Agent.
TO THE PUBLIC.—I have removed my Cloth
ing and Gents.' Furnishing Goods store to D. P.
Gwin's old stand. - t - ,,,.Expenses reduced and
better bargains than ever can be got at
S. Wolf's 505 Penn Street.
March 2S, 1879,
BEAUTIFY YOUR
II 0 AI
The undersigned is prepared to do all kinds of
lIOIJSE AND SIGN PUNTING,
Calcimining, Glazing,
Paper Hanging,
anil any and all work belonging to the business.
Having had Feversl years' experience, he guaran
tees satisfaction to those who may employ him.
PRICES MOD7EII,A.'I7 .
Orders may be left at the JOURNAL Book Store.
JOHN L. ROHLAND.
March 14th. 18794 f.
GDON'S
The only place in town where you can get the
525 PENN STREET,
A.
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New Advertisements
HERE WE ARE !
505 PENN STREET.
-AND--
GENTS.' FURNISHING GOODS;
New Advertisements.
BROWN,
Eijc `triDtr.
Alcander and Septimius.*
ISY J. HARRISON I:KISSINGER.
0 Muse, attend to aid my flight
Up Helicon's immortal height !
Make sweet my quaffings from the fount
Castalia pours adown the mount
Of high Parnassus, peak'd with snows
Eternal ! Nuw my lyre dispose
To chord the pleasures, voice the pain,
Assailing man upon the main
Where fitful passion swerves the will
Of voyagers to good or ill !
Impose subdual, heavenly maid,
On hearts undaunted, unafraid ;
Victorious, let the faithful breast
Obtain through virtue sweetest rest !
In Athens, queen of olden days,
Dwelt young Alcander. rich in praise
For manlike virtues; great, and strong,
Ile moved the idol of the throng
That met within the famous mart
Ot Grecian learning; subtle, skilled
Above his fellows, soft and stilled
Were other voices when he spoke,
And naught his silver speech e'er broke
Save praises, from the peopled heart.
Septimius, bred at regal Rome,
Proud-hill'd above the yellow foam
Of Tiber's stream, had sought the grove
Where Attic wisdom bloomed, and love
From young Alcander joined his awn.
The flame had strong and stronger grown,
The bud a perfect flower had blown,
Until the lives of both seemed cast
In self-same moldure firm and fast
Did Friendship rear a sovereign thrsne.
Here grew the twain to man's estate,
When came their steps to touch the gate
Of entrance into Life's broad whir!,
And from its setting tell the pearl
Importing Youth, in Life's gay crown.
Alcander, weighing well his heart,
And future, deemed of these a part
In keeping of a lady rare,
The pride of Athens, past compare
For Beauty's richest-reap'd renown.
Exquisite charm adorned the face
Of fair Hypatia, and the grace
That marked Olympian Venus threw
About her form its heaven hue
Of loveliness, that gods adored.
Alcander's love was prompt returned,
A sacred fire it brightly burned
Upon the altar of her soul,
And not a thought of grievance stole
The time of days, with hope full stored.
Their nuptial day drew on with speed,
Alcander feeling but the need
To tell Septimius all his heart,
And freely, fully, to impart
Ills happiness now held alone.
0 gods! why tempt ye mortal men ?
Why shoulders human sorely strain ?
Septitnius no quicker knows
Hypatia's charms, than fervid glows
A passion that he dare not own.
Unhappy, he retires in grief,
Nor all his strivings bring relief
In suff. ring's severest test
But greater grows the baring zest
Of love, awak'd against his friend.
The sturdy oak is stricken, dies;
The manful strength once his now lies
A weak reducement of its life
When mutual joys precluded strife,'
Nor thoughts of baseness interven'd.
Fell fever seizes on his frame;
In wild delirium, the name
Hypatia falls from off his lip.,
And sudden, sad, the secret slips
Of struggling love in vain repressed.
His mad imaginings loud limn
Dread pictures of the grievance grim
Onfollowing Friendship's broken bond,
And fiercely is the fate bemoan'd
That racks with torture friendly breast.
Alcander, wildered, doubting sense,
Feels all too keenly and intense
The stroke by rough reversal cast,
And joys late held serene seem past
Forever, as he bows in pain.
Long lasts the strife, fur Friendship strong
Must bear the brunt of Passion's thong;
But praised be Jove, fond Friendship reigns
Subjecting Love, and freed from chains,
Unsullied sits enthroned again.
"Can Greek his fellow fail for self?
Or safe enjoy his person's pelf
By making others sorrow ? No !
The world. its treasures, all, forego
Athena's sons for those drawn near.
Septimius, so nobly brave,
Shall never fill the glootuecl grave
Hewn out by unrequited love,
Nor shall Alcander basely prove
His foe, but one that bears him cheer !" .
Thus spoke the manful, thus the strong,
Acknowledged idol of the throng
That pressed within the famous mart
Where Grecian virtue stirred the heart
Of youth and age to deeds divine.
Then swift repairing to the side
Of him who suffered most, heapplied
Soft soothing sentences of hope,
Which now, a veering.horoscope,
Forefigured fame fur Friendship's shrine.
His own heart-bli-sfulness he yields,
Forgets, nor rueful wishing wields
Again the sceptre thrown aside,
But blooms a bright and beauteous bride
Ilypatia for his mourning mate.
Septimius strengthens in his joy,
Grows hale, while all his thcughts employ
Their vent in homage to the gods,--
With vigor new be loudly lauds
Their grace that fended frowning fate.
Propitious now, lonia's main
Soon bears him back to Rome again ;
Hypatia too, so fully fair,
That Italy's malarial air
Seems pure, when she her presence lends.
High dignities, by state bestowed,
Reward Septimius, and flowed
The stream of honor, wanting rest
Till last the highest was possessed
Where he, the pontos, right defends:
4 - a • a A*
Years came and went and came again,
Producing sorrows in their train'
Fur brave Alcander, lonely left;
Of friend and her he loved bereft,
In vain was still'd his mind to rest.
Alt, would that Time, the sovereign balm,
Had borne to him deserved calm !
But, no ; new confliets interpose;
Implacable, resistless foes,
Hypatia's kindred straightly seek
Abasement for the noble Greek,
And sinks again his heart opprest !
Nor innocence, nor silvered word,
Can make his frank avowal heard
Disproving baseness bought with gold;
But prison'd, beggar'd, soon he's sold,
Full-stript of Freedom's bright attire.
A merchant-master leads to Thrace
The slave, the Grecian born to grace,
Where long mid sterile fields and bare,
Imperious mandate makes his care
The humble herds, nor pays him hire.
Years pass before escape is won,
And bondage, as a bird, has flown;
And then, in stealthy, tireless flight.
He hides by day, and speeds by night,
Till Roman towers flash their cheer.
Exults his soul, unduly scourged,
And on his breathless course is urged,—
The forum gained, where o'er the crowd
Septimius sits in judgment proud,
Alcander stands, a friend forgot.
He watches long with eager eyes
For recognition ; but disguise,
Imposed through slavery's troublous toil,
Instead of greeting, prompts recoi
From wretchedness that marks his lot.
Night falls; and comes the chilling gloom
Enshrouding Rome, and more the tomb
Where worn, Alcander's steps repair—
hetreat of guilt, distress, despair,
And home of ghast and horrid dread.
The midnight casts a deeper shade,
When bold a brace of thieves invade
The charnel-ground, approach the cave
That rears its mass above the grave
Where sleep Alcander and the dead.
They spread their plunder, count their gain,
Till greed lays low a robber, slain,
And flees his fellow ; spreads alarm
The dawn, exposing murderous harm
That cries for vengeance, swift and sure,
Urn-pillow'd, sweet Alcander dreamed
Of joys long gone,—when blinding beamed
The sun of morn upsn his gaze,
And in bewilder'd, wild amaze,
lie woke, a captive bound secure!
s s- a a -s s a * a
Ye Furies! Why persist so long
To harass him, the brave, the strong ?
Why hurl in madness to the earth
The spirit hailed aloft at birth ?
Why turn against him, gods above?
Why mete to him ingratitude,
And cruelly his life exclude
From love and friendship, constant, true?
Oh ! why the hands with blood imbrue
But used to offices of love?
a * a aa a a * *
Bound strong with cutting cords, and dragged,
His trial basted, neither lagged
The firm-positioned proof of crime
Against the Grecian, soul-sublime
In middle manhood, as before,
He silent stood, with visage wan
Among the lictors, hoping gone--
• Read by the author at the Forty-third Anni
versary of the Gcethean Literary Society of Frank
lin and Marshall College, held in Fulton Opera
House, Lancaster City, May 9th, 1579.
HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY JUNE 13, 1879.
Awaiting only doom to death—
But sadden gasps the judge for breath,—
And quick from heaven beaminga pour,
O'er flooding with their tender light
Alcander's face, bedimm'd by blight,—
Septimius, mingling joy and pain,
Flies from his bench to greet again
The loved long lust, now found in woe i
Tn woe, but while in fond embrace
They cling, the puzzled populace
Make way for crime's own guilty son,
Who, rueful for offences done,
Confesses the assassin blow.
Then shouts triumphantly the throng
Alcander's name, grown doubly strong;
Long mourned by Athens, saved at Rome,
lle wins a welcome to the home
Of Friendship and of Love restored ;
Declines his day in happy ease,
Where helping hearts are bent to please,
And ending, night receives to rest,
Victorious, the faithful breast.
* * • •
0 gods, by mortals be adored!
Who bendest but to wake wore P tr. g,
Who up from sadness raisest song,—
Hear, hear our votive paeans blend,
That to the faithful, in the end,
Thou givest Virtue's golden crown,--
To all who honor her, renown.
*tarp-Ctiltr.
MIGNONNE'S lIUSBAND.
"Then you have deliberately made up
your wind that you won't marry Ransom,
Mignonne ? If you have—actually have—
;.ll I have to say to you is, you are the sil
liest little fool that I ever had the misfor
tune to see."
M4znonne broke off another spray of
half opened yellow rosebuds, and placed
them in her dark hair as composedly as
though Mrs. Barth had not spoken.
Then she took up a hand-glass that lay
on her dressing bureau, and carefully sur
veyed the effect of the floral arrangement
upon the back.
Then she looked at Mrs. Barth with an
amused little smile in her eyes that her
lips did not repeat.
"Thanks, auntie. All the same, I have
not the remotest intention of trying to re
trive my character in your estimation
All the same, I shall not marry Ransom,
because -2
She broke short off impatiently.
'Because' what? St. Clair Austin, I
dare say !"
A little faint flash warmed the girl's
cheek for a second; then her frank eyes
met Mrs. Barth's calmly enough to dislodge
the suspicion that lady might have enter
tained, and which her words certainly im
plied.
"St. Clair Austin has nothing to do with
it, Aunt Ellinor. What I did say was, no
man could ever hope to have. me for his
wife whose life was so utterly devoid of
aim.so hopelessly purposeless as Ransom's."
Mrs. Barth gasped out her astonish
ment.
‘•What nonsense ! What outrageous
Quixotism ! A man with the fortune
Ransom has—"
Then Mignonne's brown eyes flashed all
their rare bronze light in Mrs. Barth's
fare.
'That has nothing to do with it in the
least ! Ransom is idle, selfish, conceit
ed—"
It was more than Mrs. Barth could en
dure to hear. She interrupted, impatient
ly :
"Anti Austin is industrious, generous
and modest, and poor as Job's turkey !
Heaven knows I am not anxious for you to
take Ransom, if' you don't want him ; but
Mignonne, you must stop whatever is go
ing on between you and St. Clair Austin,
the man who works behind my husband's
desk for ten dollars a week, and you young
and beautiful enough to take your choice
between princes ! Mignonne, you are a
fool !"
Ten minutes afterwards, somebody laid
a firm, detaining hand on Mignonne'a
shoulder, as she sat at the piano, playing
softly some wailing tune.
"I have come for my answer, 'Mignon
ne," Ransom said, quietly, but the girl
saw the intensity of his passir.m beneath the
surface.
"And you can have it. I cannot wear
your bonds. Don't ask me again ;it pains
me to hurt you."
lie waited a moment, as it' trying to
comprehend all that she meant.
"Very well. I will not ask you again."
Only somehow the look of his eyes, as
they met hers, the gravity and tender,
hopeless patience in his voice, went thril
ling to her heart, as she never had thought
be had the power to affect her.
But she said nothing; only, as he went
out of the room, he turned back and
caught the look of fleeting sorrow and sur
prise on her sweet face.
Only a second later, St. Clair Austin
came in—a tall, handsome man, with a
magnetism about him that the girl ac
knowledged the moment she felt his pres
ence.
This time he came up to the piano—the
very spot where Ransom had stood not a
moment beforP.
"I have been waiting all day for this
opportunity. Mignonne, lam bold, lam
daringly bold, to seek you and tell you that
I aspire to your love. Mignonne, I have
seen something in your face, your eyes,
that has made me so daring. Will you
answer me, your uncle's clerk, a mere no•
body in your social world ? I love you—
you know that, Mignonne. And you ?"
To her dying day Mignonne can never
understand the strange mesmerism of feel.
:ng that fascinated her, the romantic de
light she felt in this handsome, gentlemanly
fellow's presumption—the compelling pow
er that made her, in that one moment,
rashly promise to give herself to him.
But several hours after when she
thought it aver, somehow the romance died
out of it—somehow, instead of admiration
of his manly independence, came a cold
disgust and hatred, that grew upon her
until, in almost insane terror, she tore his
ring off her finger, fully resolved to take
the first opportunity that presented to tell
him what a disgraceful mistake she had
perpetrated.
For several days there was no opportu
nity. Between the guests with which Mrs.
Barth had filled her house, and the con
sequent ceaseless round of gayety, no
chance offered when Mignonne could see
Austin, or when she could see Ransom,
who pursued the even tenor of his way,
until all of a sudden, one day Mrs. Barth
came to Mignonne with the astounding
news that some terrible financial difficulty
had ruined all Ransom's prospects,and that
he had left his friendly remembrances for
Mignonne on his sudden, imperative de
parture several hours before.
So Clifford Ransom passed out of' Mig
nonne's life, and away down in her heart
she felt the vcid—almost exasperated with
herself.
Then, atop of this, came the announce
ment that the ladies had been almost fever
ishly awaiting for weeks the news that
Carroll Nugent had come home to Nugent
Place at last, after his wanderings for
years—that he had come back unmarried,
handsomer than ever, and evidently des
tined to be in high favor wherever he
went.
"And be's the man of all men I want
you to marry, Mignonne. And, to speak
plainer yet, I had a letter from your fath
er to-day, and he lays his commands on
you, through me, to accept him if he asks
you. Ile has seen your picture somewhere,
it seems, and is enraptured. Wear your
white silk and the black velvet and dia
mond ornaments to dinner to-night, for I
want Nugent's first impression to be the
right one !"
As Mignonne dressed that night, it
seemed as if Fate were weavin g a curious
web for her feet to entangle. Here were
three men, all of whom were more than
unusually interested in her. One had
gone for good, and a little, sobbing sigh
came with the thought; one—she shiver
ed with indignation and repulsion at her
folly, at the thought that all these days
St Clair Austin had been thinking she
loved him. And here was Nugent, whom
she had been taught all the days of her
life nearly was the man among men most
desirable. And she fettered to St. Clair
Austin—she half loving Clifford Ransom.
There were little fires burning on her
cheeks, when she went down to dinner
that night, to be met in the solitude of the
music room, as she was passing through,
by Austin, who came forward smiling.
"My darling, congratulate we upon your
own sweet self! Mignonne, how I have
wanted to see yon again, since—"
"Since the time an unaccountable influ
ence possessed me—Mr. Austin, this en
gagement is entirely out of the question.
Consider yourself released, please."
As she spoke, she realized how she was
in this man's power, how entirely at his
mercy.
"I dial' not release you. I have not
only your consent to your marriago with
me, but Mrs. Barth's and your father's.
I will explain later."
It was not an hour later when all the
blood in Mignonne's body seemed to curdle
at , her heart, to see. Mrs'. Barth and Austin
come into the dining room, arm in arm.
"Did you ever hear of such a romance
as this young man has been playing, Mig
notine? Allow me to introduce—riot
Ahstin, but Mr. Carroll Nugent !"
A deathly sense of helplessness and hor
ror came over Mignonne as she met his
smiling, sardonic eyes--eyes that told her,
plain as words could speak, that she should
stick by her bargain.
Those were dreadful days that folloWed,
when Mignonne was influenced by every
bogy who dare influence her in Nugent's
falier—days when she grew rebellious to
desperation, until, at last,.a fortnight or
so later, one sobbing, storming night, she
rushed out of the house in a perfect frenzy
of helplessness, and ran through the wind
and rain, bareheaded, so it might cool her
brain, that was like hot lead—ran down
to the pond that lay, like a dull black spot,
in the very centre of the ;rounds.
"I would rather die—l will die, rather
than marry that man, and God will for
give me ! Oh, Clifford ! ckh, Clifford ! my
punishment has come for the way I treated
you."
She stepped out nearer the sodden bank,
and then two stout arms closed around her,
and a vertnool, midi, matter-of fact voice
spoke :
wouldn't indulge in a plunge-bath
here, Mignonne. Let me escort you bank
to the house under my umbrella."
"Umbrella !" From the very verge of
self destruction to walking clumsily along
under—Clifford Ransom's umbrella ! But
ehe was shivering with nervous agitation
as she looked at him.
"I will not go back to—that man ! Oh,
I hate him—l hate him—and you have.
been cruel enough to save my lire for
him !"
Her voice rang out a perfect wail of
hopelessnes..
"You need have no fears from that man,
Mignonne. My object in coming here to
night was to tell your father and Mrs.
Barth that he is an imposter and a villain
He is not the genuine Nugent; so you
see, Mignonne, I have not saved you for
such awful wretchedness after all."
A half bitter, half-eager undertone was
in his voice that touched her bewildered
senses. Then she laid both her bands on
his arms and pushed the umbrella back, so
ffhe could see straight in his face.
"Clifford—yes, it will be a life too
wretched to endure unless you will glorify
you ?"
And Clifford Ransom never regretted
his errand that night through the bowling
storm—the errand which proved the fraud
that so nearly wrecked Mignonne, that
was the means of making her so blessed
after all.
i*ciett
He Hung Himself.
Jerry Mooney and his wife could never
agree. Whatever be did she condemned,
to all sbe did she would not permit him to
utter a disparaging word.
"Mollie," said he one day, "I cannot
please you while I live, so I will see wheth
er my death will increase your happiness.
I'll hang myself."
"Do, please," was the cool response.
Half hour latter she happened to go up
stairs, and sure enough, there was Jerry
hanging by the neck. It was not a slip
knot, however, but a sham a circus man
had taught him. She gave a scream and
rushed down stairs, while be caught the
rope with his hands, and took a rest and
laughed quietly to think how he had fool
ed his wire. He beard her rush up again,
followed by a neighbor. Then they cut
him down and took the rope from his neck,
his wife, the meanwhile, indulging luxu
riously in grief. Suddenly he found his
hands tied behind him and a tenacious
plaster slapped over his mouth, his wife
crying and moaning all the time.
"Now, h sip me with all your might,"
said she to Mrs. Barber; "these are the
first to be-done when a man is half hung;
the plaster (;ompels him to breathe through
the nose when he comes to. -Now, run for
the hot flat iron—hurry."
And then a system of torture for poor
Mooney that? would have put the inquisi
tion to the 'blush. They held hot irons to
the soles of his feet until he screamed with
pain ; they applied a plaster to his chest
that drew like a locomotive; they bathed
his head with ice-water till he thought of
Ice-land. 'The more he kicked the more
vigorous their exertions ; they slapped his
hands, rollixl him over the floor; and stood
him on his head . , and vice versa. This was
kept up for half an hour, when he was re
leased, and then his wife quietly informed
him when he wanted to humbug her again
to heave plod.
A Fraternal Tribute.
The following beautiful, eloquent and
touching eulogy was delivered by Col.
Robert G-. Ingersoll over the remains of
his brother, Hon. Ebon C. Ingersoll, who
was buried in Washington city on the 2nd
inst. The services were held at the resi
deuce of the deceased, and were witnessed
by a large number of distinguished per
sonages. Col. Ingersoll, with his notes
lying on the coffin of his dead brother,
spoke as follows :
"My friends, I am going to do that
which the dead oft promised he would do
for me. The loved and loving brother,
husband, father, friend, died when man
hood's morning almost touches noon, and
while the shadows still were falling toward
the West. He had not passed on life's
highway the stone that marks the highest
point, but, being weary for a moment, he
laid down by the wayside, and, using his
burden for a pillow, fell into that dream
less sleep that kisses down his eyelids still.
"While yet in love with life and rap
tured with the world he passed to silence
and pathetic dust. Yet, after all, it may
be best just in the happiest, sunniest hour
on all the voyage, while eager winds are
kissing every sail to dash against the un
seen rock and in an instant hear the bil.
lows roar as above a 'sunken ship. ',2 1 0r
whether in midsea or amon ,, the breakers
of the further shore a wreck must mark at
last the end of each and all; and every
life, no matter if its every hour is rich
with love and every moment jewelled with
a joy, will at its close become a tragedy as
sad and deep and dark as can be woven of
the warp and woof of mystery and death.
"This brave and tender man in every
storm of life was oak and rock, but in the
sunshine he was vine and flower. He was
the friend of all heroic souls. He climb
ed the bights and left all superstitions far
below, while on his forehead fell the gold
en dawning of a grander day. He loved
the beautiful, and was with color, form
and music touched to tears. He sided with
the weak. and with a win) , " ' hand gave
alms. With loyal heart and with the pu
rest bands be faithfully discharged public
trust.
"He was a worshipper of liberty—a
faiend of the oppressed. A thousand times.
I have heard him quote the words : For
Justice, all place a temple, and all seasons
summer.'
"He believed that happiness was the
only good; reason the only torch; justice
the only worship; humanity the only re
ligion and love `the only priest. He add
ed Ur : AB:BUM . of human joy; and, were
every one for whom he did some loving
service to bring a blossom to his pr.tve . ,
be would sleep tonight beneath a_wilder
ness of flowers.
"Life is a narrow vale between the cold
and barren peaks of two eternities. We
strive in vain to look beyond the beighte.
We cry aloud, and the only answer is the
echo of our wailing cry. From the voice
less lips of the unreplying dead there
comes no word,--64 io.,the night of death
Hope sees a star and 7iste6ing Lova cfn
hear the rustle of a wing.
"lle who sleeps here when dying, 'his
'taking the approach of death for the re
turn of health, whispered with his latest
breath : am better now.' Let us be
'llelte in spite of
,doubts and dogmas and
tears that these dear words are true of all
the countlewdead.
And now, to you who have been elm
sen from among the many men he loved
to do the last sad office fur the dead, we
give his sacred dust. speech cannot coo
tain our love. There was, there is, no
gentler, stronger, manlier man."
Natural Curiosities.
On land, a short distance southeast front
the Weir station, Taunton, Mass., is a
double tree composed of a complete living
apple tree, out of the trunk of which grows
a fine elm thirty feet or more. And near
the house of Mr. Dean, in the same town,
stands an elm, near the foot of which there
springs, or did at last accounts, the butt of
a vigorous grape vine, which, at a consid
erable distance from the ground, grows en
tirely into the tree, then reappears and is
at length once more entirely lost. On the
farm of a Mr. Read, in the same vicinity,
there is a willow of considerable size grown
from seed brought to maturity in the orig
inal tree over the burial spot of Napoleon,
at St. Helena. A fourth wonder in this
neighborhood is the grapevine on the
Richardson estate. The trunk of this vine
ismore than twenty-seven inches in cir
cumference, and several of the branches
girt eight and nine inches. We doubt
whether the famous Hampton Court vine
is much bigger than some of its humble
relations. About four miles northwest of
Spencer, Indiana, stands a sugar tree on
the brow of a hill, which has two distinct
trunks that start from the ground four feet
apart. They are eight inches in diameter
and unite in one trunk of about twelve
inches in diameter, at nine feet from the
ground, forming a solid, compact body
from that, point upwards. On the bank
of the Kansas river, a short distance north
of Udora, stands a water elm, about twen
ty-four inches in diameter. At about
twelve feet distant, another of the same
species leans towards and enters into the
larger trunk, and becomes a part of it at
about fifteen feet from the ground- One
of the most curious, and at the same time
most useful of trees, is the bamboo—bo
tanically a grass, yet practically a foreign
tree. It grows as high as eighty feet and
has clums so strong that they are used for
masts, joists of houses, pipes, and every
purpose to which poles can be applied.
The tender young shoots serve as a vege
table for the natives, and are used for
pickles by the Europeans ; they serve,
when sown together, as garments, and are
also used for thatching roofs of houses.
The wood cut into splints is worked into
baskets, twisted into cables, and, in fact,
in some form or other, furnishes the bed,
mattress, chair, table, curtain, pipe, chop
stick, flute, broom, food, garment, book,
paper, fuel, food, etc., of a large class of
human beings. One of the most remark
able instances of abnormal growth is that
of a decaying sugar tree, in Township Fif
teen, about one mile east of Rockville, In
diana. From some cause its top has been
bent down to the ground, against a bill.
side in such a manner that its branches
became in time covered with earth that
was washed down the hillside. This re
sulted in its taking root at the top. Then
followed a series of sprouts, that became
dwarf trees, along the upper side of the
main trunk, forming a fantastic arch over
the little hollow.
IN TEIE HOT BYE-AND-BYE.—There's
a land that is hotter than this, though
'tis hard to believe it to-clay; where we
may simmer and siss, in the general old
fashioned way.
tat nistorß.
THE
OLD FOOT-PRINTS OF THE RECEDING RED
AND THE
EARLY LAND-MAUS OF THE COMING WHITE MAN
WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO
The Juniata Region.
BY PROF. A. L. OURS, OF HUNTINGDON, PA
'Ti' good to muse on Nationspas.ed away
Forecerji•uut the laud we call our own.
ARTICLE X
TILE WALKING PURCHASE.
This is the notorious "Walking Pur
chase" which made so much noise in the
Indian world. An Indian deed signed by
Idaquahon, &c.. of July 15, 1682, also re
ferred to, is on file. It was made by south
ern Delawares. But the other deed spoken
of, dated August 28, 1680, (a date, strange
to say, is prior to Penn's charter) signed
by 3layhkeerickkishsho, &c , has never
been found. However, at this time, the
chiefs were ``sic ciently convinced of the
truth" of this sate to induce them to con
firm it. The truth is, they seemed to have
assented to this for the sake of peace and
harmony, expecting, as they then said, "to
remain in their present settlements, though
within the purchase, without being mo
lested." Vain hope ! We find inside of
six years, the Iroquois were appealed to,
in order to force them from these lands,
and this deed or release used to convince
their masters they had sold it.
HOW THE WALKING WAS DONE
The manner in which the walk was
made, must ever remain a matter of amaze
ment in our history. The Indians sup
posed it would be an ordinary walk by the
course of the river ; but the greedy Pro
prietaries advertised for swift walkers at a
handsome reward. Two of these absolutely
walked themselves to death. The walk
was a run, and the distance is variously
estimated at from 50 to 80 miles. The
Indians were highly incensed at the way
and the manner the purchase was walked
out. The disaffection and animosity en
gendered, followed by a forced removal
from the lands of their ancestors, ever
rankled in the bosoms of the Delawares,
and in after years sent them to murder the
frontier settlers in the Juniata region.
THE IROQUOIS APPEALED TO TO FORCE
THE DELAWARES OFF THEIR FORMER
LANDS.
The lands were sold, settlers encroached,
the Indians resisted and complained. They
were pointed to the deed of the. Six Na
tions of 1736 and their own of 1737. At
length the Iroquois were appealed to in
order to enforce their subject Indians to
obedience. Canassatego, an Onondaga
orator, appeared at Philadelphia with 230
Iroquois warriors on the last day of June
1742, and on the 9th of July, the Gover
nor"made his complaints of the disturbance
the Delawares had caused about the lands,
and the impudent letters they had caused
to be written to the Government, treating
the Proprietaries with the utmost rude.
ness and ill manners, saying : "As you
on all occasions apply to us to remove all
white people that are settled on lands be
f3re they are purchased from you, and we
do our endeavors to turn such people off,
we now expect from you that you will
cause these Indians to remove from the
lands in the Forks of Delaware. and not
give any further disturbance to persons
who are now in possession."
A WICKED HAUGHTY SPEECH
On the 12th Canassatego replied, in the
presence of the Delaware chiefs, who had
been sent for to answer the complaint, after
rehearsing the various deeds, letters and
documents which had been laid before bun
relating to the matter, be said : "We see
with our own eyes that they have been a very
unruly people, and are altogether in the
wrong in their dealings with you." Then
turning to the Delawares (among whom
was poor Nutimus who bad signed the
deed of 17370 holding a belt of wampum
in his band, Canassatego spoke as fullows :
A WONDERFUL SPEECH,
"Cousins : Let this belt of wampum
serve to chastise you. You ought to be
taken by the hair of the head and shaken
severely, till you recover your senses and
become sober; you don't know what ground
you stand on, nor what you are doing.
Our brother Onas' case is very just and
plain, and his intentions to preserve friend
ship ; on the other hand your case is bad,
your heart far from being upright, and you
maliciously break the chain of friendship.
We have seen with our eyes a deed signed
by nine of your ancestors, above fifty years
ago, for this very land, and a release signed
not many years since by some of yourselves
and chieth now living to the number of
15 or upwards. But bow came you to
take upon you to sell land at all ? We
conquered you—we made women of you—
you know you are women—and can no
more sell land than women. Nor is it fit
you should have the power of selling lands,
since you would abuse it. This land that
you claim is gone through your guts, you
have been furnished with clothes and meat
and drink by the goods paid you for it, and
now you want it again like children as you
are. But what makes you sell land in the
dark ? Did you ever tell us you had sold
this land ? Did we ever receive any part,
even the value of a pipe shank from you
fbr it ? You have told us a blind story,
that you sent a messenger to us to inform
us of the sale, but he never came among
us, and we never heard anything about it.
This is acting in the dark ; and very dif
fereet from the conduct our Six Natioha
observe in their sales of lands. On such
occasions they give public notice, and in
vite all the Indians of their United Na
tions, and give them a share of the present
they receive for their lands. This is the
behavior of the wise United Nations, but
we find you are none of our blood. You
act a dishonest part, not only in this, but
in other matters. Your ears are ever open
to slanderous reports about our brethren.
You receive them with as much greediness
as a lewd women receives the embraces of
a bad man. And for all these reasons we
charge you to remove instantly. We don't
give you the liberty to think about it.
You are women; take the advice of a wise
man and remove immediately. We, there
fbre, assign you two places to go—either
to Wyoming or Shamokin. You may go
to either of these places, and then we shall
have you more under our eye, and shall
lee how you behave. Don't deliberate,
but remove away and take this belt of
wampum.
"After our just reproof and absolute
order to depart from the land, you are now
to take notice of what we have farther to
say. This string of wampum serves to
forbid you, your children, and grand chil
dren, to the latest posterity, for ever med
dling in land affairs. Neither
. you, nor
any who shall descend from you, are ever
hereafter to presume to sell any land; for
which purpose you are to preserve this
string in memory of what your Uncles
have this day given you in charge. We
have some other business to transact with
our brethren ; and ; therefore, depart this
Council, and consider what has been said
to you."
Generally the Delawares disliked very
much to hear themselves termed the in
feriors of the Iroquois, which led them to
invent some other story as to the Nye they
became subjects in the beginning. But it
must be confessed that the haughty, im
perious and peremptory tone of the above
speech was enough to gall them to the
quick. They left their native. Delaware
never to return. An intense hatred to
ward the Iroquois and the English rankled
in their bosoms. Nothing was done to
soothe their exasperated feelings. for. as
late as May 19 0 ,1757 at a Conference at
Lancaster, Little Abraham, an Iroquois
speaker said:
"IVe must inform you, that in former
times, our forefathers conquered the Dela
wares and put petticoats on them. A
long time after that they lived among you
our brothers; but upon some difference
between you and them, we thought proper
to remove them, giving them lands to
plant and hunt on, at Wyoming and Ju
niata, on Susquehanna."
YAMOYDEN,
THEY BEGIN THEIR WESTWARD mAricri,
Though the formal order to remove from
the Delaware to the Susquehanna and its
branches was only given in 1742, yet we
find that some of them had began, of their
own accord, to stray westward long before
this time. In 1709 some of thew had a
village at Paxton (Peshtank) near Harris
burg. As early a: 1728 they began to
cross the Allegheny mountains. In 1729
we find them addressing a letter from the
Allegheny river to the Governor, who in
1731, wrote them a formal le i f,ter "at Al
leghening." In that same year already
they had villages at Fratikstown, Blair
county, Conemaggh, Cambria county, and
Kittanning, Armstrong county. They
were numerous on the Ohio in 1755, and
in the French and Indian war that fol
lowed, a great many took part with the
French in spite of the warnings and re
straining power of the Iroquois. A great
many of' the border depredations were com
mitted by them. Led by Frenchmen, and
their own butcher, fiend, Shingas, they
took Ft Granville in Mil; in county, Ft.
Bigham in Juniata county, and donated
the Great Cove in Fulton county, killing
and carrying off hundreds. They became
reckless, vain and revengeful. They be
gan to lay extensive; claims to lands, and
asserted these claims with as much insolent
haughtiness as the Iroquois; and. Lianke
welder's book is proof, that they now
claimed, that they wes_e_a race farsuperior
to the Iroquois. Encouraged , by-pale
French with the Idea of getting back their
lands, they put on airs to which their an
cestors were strangers.
THEY GET A NEW KING
The Delawares now, 1755, became much
scattered, some living on their river, some
on the branches of the Susquehanna, ind
they were numerous on the Ohio. Their
new King. Tadesuscund, was knevtn as
"Honest John" prior to 1750. and was
baptized by the Moravians, as Gideon.
They received him only after some delay,
"owing to his wavering disposition." e
was in favor of religion, or anything that
would better his condition. - He encouraged
his people in joining the French, when be
thought the French were going to win.
When he raw their fortunes failing, he
was a great peace maker for the, English.
For a time he paraded-back and forth, in
warlike style, between the French and En
glish. In 1756 he was King of Four
Nations, and in 1758 he wax King of Ten
Nations. His speeches remind one very
much of what we now term a "blow horn.'
He was burned to death in his own wig
wam at Ilfajomick, (near Wilkesbarre,)
while intoxicated, in 1763.
HE SPEAKS ON THE LAND QUE!.‘TTON.
At Easton, in November 1756, Tadeus
c an d made one ofh is characteristic speeches,
in which he said to Gov. Denny : "This
very ground that is under me, ,(striking it
with his foot,) was my laud—atad inheri
tance, and it was taken from me by fraud..'
After much more talk about fraud, the
Governor asked him if he had been served
as intimated in his illustrations. He said
"Yes, I have been served so in this Pxo
vince; all the land extending fro_2 Tnhic
con, over the great mountain, topiwing,
has been taken from me by frand; for
when I had agreed to sell land to the old
Proprietary, by the course or the river,
the young Proprietaries came and got it
run by a straight course, by the compass,
and by that means took in double the
quantity intended to he sold" •
HOW THE FRENCH mAN.4qz.p.
Oa July 13, 1757, Vaudreuil, Governor
General of Canada, wrote, "I have not ne
glected anything to attract the .Loupe
(Delawares) of Theoga (Tioga), who are
settled rear Fort Shamokin, to me. I was
of the opinion that I could not effect it,
because they had never had the least aseo
cia';on with the French, and have always
been among the English; nevertheless, my
negotiations have so far succeeded. that I
have actually with me the Great Chief of
that Nation, who is called the King, with
a suit of his warriors I required of him
to give me a proof of the sincerity of his
promise Ile forthwith dispatched some
of his warriors to join the army I am send
ing againtt Ft. George."
TEEDTUSCUNG "A GREAT MAN."
At a treaty at Easton, August 7, 1757,
this same great King, Teedyuscung, pro
fessing friendship to the English, was a
conspicuous figure. He was backed by
the Quakers, who helped him fix up his
speeches, which were delivered while in
toxicated, so as to need help in standing
during their delivery. He demanded a
Secretary of his own, (a Quaker school
master,) which for the hope of peace was
accorded. He declared be was the King
of Ten Nations, and authorized to adjust
war matters for them. He placed the
blame of the war on the English authori
ties. He said that he bad been styled a
"woman" in former years, by his 'Uncles,
(the Iroquois,) and had a hominy powder
in his hand instead of a hatchet, yet he
was now A MAN, and authorized to make
peace, insomuch as his Uncles bad given
him a hatchet and a pipe and good tobacco.
Some of the Six Nations, there present,
seem to have consented to the independence
of Teedyuscung and his nation, probably
from affection to the English and in order
to get the Delawares quieted.
NO. 24.
THE RESULTS.
( To be continued.)