VOL. 43. [lie Huntingdon_ Journal. (Vice in new JounsALlimilding, Fifth Street, T FIE EINTING DON JOURNAL is published every Friday by J. A. NA6II, at fi'2,lwo per annum IN ADVANCE, or i3.Z>O it not pail for in NIX months from date of sub twription, and g 3 if not paid within the year. No paper dismnt i nued , unless at the option of the pub- I loiter, until all arrearages are paid. Nu paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless ith.olutely paid fur in advance. Transient advertisements will be inserted at TWELVE AND N-WILP CENTS per line for the first insertion, SEVEN AND 1-HALF GENTS for the second and FIVE CENTS per line for all subsequent insertions. Regular quarterly and yearly basin:so advertisements will he inserted at the following rats: 3m Gm flu Iyr j Sin 16m 19m 1 lyr 11u $3 501 4 50; 5 50 , 8 00 1 4 coll 9 00118 00!527 $ 36 2" 50•) gOl 10 1111 . 12 OW %cl lIR 00135 00 50 65 3 " 700 10 00 , 14 00 14 00 coE :34 00150 00 65 80 4 " 800 14 00 . 20 00,18 001 1 col ,36 00,60 00 80 100 All Resolutions of Associations, Commit!. 'cations: of limited or individual interest, all party annil.ncements, 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. A.,leertising Agents must find their commission outside of these figures. All advertising accounts are due and collectable tohen 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 must artistic manner and at the lowest rates. Professional Cards• INT3I. P. S.: R. A. ORBISON, Attorneys-at-Law, No. 321 Penn Street, Iluatingdon, Pa. All kinds of legal business promptly attended to. Sept.l2,'7B. TV.. G. B. BOTCHKIN, 825 Washington Street, Hun. 11 ting4on. junel4-1878 TA CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street. I.r Ottioe formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & Wil liamson. [apl2,'7l TAR. A.B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services 1./ to the comm ?way . Office, No. 523 Washington street, oue door east of the Catholic Parsonage. Ljan4,'7l DR. In - SKILL has permanently located in Alexandria to practice his profession. tjan.4 1: 4 , C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentigt. Office in Leister's building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E. J Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2B, '76. ft 80. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street, Huutingdon, Pa. [n0v17,'75 GGL. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building, . No. b2O, Penn Street, lluntingdon, Pa. [apl2.'7l I 0. DI ADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, —, Penn 'wgdon, PD. [apl9,'7l JT SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-haw, Ilnntingdon, . Pa. °Rice, Penn Street, three doors West of 3rd Street. [jan4,7l Tw. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim It./ • Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of on Peun Street. [jan4,'7l T S. GEISSING ER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, jj. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. H 0 Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [tebs,'7l CI E. FLEMING, 'Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., 1.3., office in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt and varecul attention given to all legal business. faugs,74-6mos New Advertisements. 1-ITTNTI SHARE DEALING C.LOTRING IS lIONV prepared to SUFI' its Patrons in GARMENTS of the VERY LATEST STYLE And the BEST MAKE UP, at prices to suit the times. My stock of TIEAI3Y - -IVtAljr, CLOTI4IIIO 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. lit3Cs2' C,40 3EK_ or' 3E3C 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 HALF-HOSE-5 pair for 23 cents, and up to 50 cents per pair. LINEN COLLARS, 2 for 25 cents. Swots, Slimlder Braces, aid llaterchiefs. Also, TillAs alid Satchels, All bought at BOTTOM PRICES FOR CASH, ANL) WILL 13. U. SOLI) GENITINI - i; PEARL snm,T. A SPLENDID LINE OF SAMPLES FOR SUITINGS To be made to order, Measures taken and good Fits guaranteed, Don't Fail to Call and Examine my Goods and Prices before Purchasing. DON'T FORGET THE PLACE : NEARLY OPPOSITE THE POSTOFFICE. T. W. MONTGOMEInt7. April 11,1579 BROWN'S CARPET STORE, 525 PENN STREET, JUST THE PLACE FOR HOUSEKEEPERS ! FRE STOCK ! NEW STYLES ! ! C.A..l:tl='Mrl l 3 ALL GRADES AND AT PRICES THAT CAN NOT BE UNDERSOLD u IN - irru Chairs, Beds, Tables, Chamber Suits, Lounges, ROCKERS, MOULDINGS, BRACKETS, Ice., ever exhibited in Huntingdon county, WALL PAPER ! WALL PAPER ! In this department I have made important changes; procured the latest improved trimmer, and my new styles and prices for 1579, can nut fail to snit 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 13 inches to 21 yards wide. Halls covered with one 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. WOOD OR LIGHT METALIC TO SUIT ALL. BURIAL ROBES IN VARIETY. FINE PLATE Gl-LASS H E ARSE Ready to attend funerals in town or country. My new clerk and traveling agent, FERDINAND Koch, will call briefly in the principal towns, villages and valleys of this and adjoining counties, with samples of Wall Paper, Carpets, Carpet Chain, and illustrations of Chairs and many kinds of Furniture, to measure rooms, dLc., 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. J_AMES 525 ENT IST., WC ISTTING-11301•01, PA. March 21,1379. S. WOLF'S. HERE WE ARE At Gwin's Old Stand, Not much on the blow, but always ready for work The largest and finest line of Clothing, Hats and Caps. In town and at great sacrifice. Winter Goods 20 PER CENT. UNDER COST. Call and be convinced at S. WOLF'S, 505 Penn et. RENT AND EXPENSES REDUCED, At S. WOLF'S. I am better able to sell Clothing, hats and Caps, Gents.' Furnishing Goods, Trunks and Valises, CHEAPER than any other store in town. Call at Gwiu's old stand. S. MARCH, Agt. MONEY SAVED IS MONEY EARNED The Cheapest Place in Huntingdon to buy Cloth ing, Hats, Caps, and Geuts.' Furnishing Goods is at S. WOLF'S, 505 Penn street, one door west from Express Office. S. MAhCII, Agent. TO THE PUBLIC.--I have removed my Cloth ing and Gents.' Furnishing Goods store to D. P. Gwin's old stand. .t,o„..Expenses reduced and better bargains than ever can be gut at S. Wolf's 505 Penn Street. March 28, 1879. BEAUTIFY YOUR The undersigned is prepared to do all kinds of HOUSE AND SIGN PIINTING Calcimining, Glazing, Paper Hanging, and any and all work belonging to the business. Having bad several years' experience, he guaran tees satisfaction to those who may employ him. PRICES MODERATE. Orders may be left at the JOURNAL Book Store. JOHN L. ROHLAND. March 14th, 1879-tf. G-D 0 ' The only place in town where you can get the The Largest Stock and variety of UNDERTAKING Also added to the Furniture & Carpet Business. Caskets and Burial Cases, A. . .ft! ...,.:. ..,._ ..? ;...- . ... , -.: ..., . ,-.. e . , . ..., ~....... ~....4 ~. .„,..: ~... i. . , _:. . , .. . .., ~.: $ , on ~. , ~,. e.• ... 4 1 , w 11 t i 1 111 " iglii, 0 i . .. 1 N (.;. .4. k e .. ........„ . . , _w. _ t.. tli._ —i, r • ~...-i; a . . New Advertisements 505 PENN STREET. -AND GENTS.' FURNISHING GOODS, New Advertisements. BROWN, Ely 1156' (.ointr {The children of Cambrige, Mass., commem orated Mr. Longfellow's seventy•second birth day on the 27th of February last, by present ing to him a beautiful arm chair, made from the wood of the Village Blacksmith's chestnut tree. This appropriate tribute has drawn from the beloved poet the following response.] Am I a king, that I should call my own This splendid ebon throne ? Or by what reason, or what right divine, Can proclaim it mine Only, perhaps, by right divine of song, It may to me belong ; Only because the spreading chestnut tree Of old was sung by me. Well I remember it in all its prime, When in the summer time The affluent foliage of its branches made A cavern of cool shade. There, by the blacksmith's forge, beside the street Its blossoms white and sweet Enticed the bees, until it seemed alive, And murmured like a hive. And when the winds of autumn,with a shout, Tossed its great arms about, I'll?, shining chestnuts, bursting from the sheath, Dropped to the ground beneath. An now some fragments of its branches bare, Shaped as a stately chair, Have by my hearthstone found a borne at last, And whisper of the Past. The Danish king could not, iu all his pride, Repel the ocean tide, But seated in this chair, I can in rhyme, Roll back the tide of Time. I see again, as one in vision sees, The blossoms and the bees, And hear the children's voices shout and call, And the brown chestnuts fall. I see the smithy with its fires aglow; I hear the bellows blow, And the shrill hammers on the anvil beat The iron white with heat ! And thus, dear children,hive ye made for me This day a Jubilee, _dud to my more than three score years and ten Brought back my youth again. The heart hath its own memory,like the mind, And in it are enshrined The precious keepsakes, • into which are wrought The giver's loving thought. Only your love and your remembrance could Give life to this dead wood, And make these branches, leafless now so long, Blossom again in song. Ely *torß-Eflict. FROM THE WAYSIDE. Pr. Silas Walsh one day sat in his office reading a very interesting book. It was a part of his business, this reading, for the bcok was of a science within the scope of his profession. He was comparatively a young man, and had the reputation of be ing an excelle❑t physician. While he read some one rang at his office bell. He laid aside his book and went to the door, and when he saw. what was upon the stepping stone he was indignant. It was a ragged, dirty boy, known in Ernsworth as "Hammer Jim—ragged and dirty and with the vileness of the slums upon him—a boy vicious and profane, against whom every other boy was warned —a boy who was called a thief and a vit. lain, whom no efforts of the Overseers had been able to reclaim, and who seemed to care for nothing but to make people afraid of him. His true name, as the Overseers had it, was James Ammerton. About his Hither, nobody in Ernsworth - :bad ever known. His mother had died an inmate of the poor house. On the present occasion. Jim's face was not only . dirty, but bloody ; and there was blood upon his grimed and tattered gar wants. "Please, sir, won't you fix toy head ? I have got a hurt." "What kind of a hurt?" asked the doe- afeard it's bad, sir," said the boy, sobbingly. "One of Mr. Dunn's men bit me with a rock. Oh !'' "What did be hit you fur ? "I dunno, sir." "Yes, you do know. What did be throw the stone at you for ?" "Why, sir, I was a pick'n up an apple under one of his trees." Dr. Walsh would not touch the boy's head with his fingers. There was no need of it. Tie could see that there was only a scalp wound, and that the blood had ceased to flow. "Go home," he said, "let your folks wash your head and put on a clean bandage." "Please, sir, I hain't got n) home, and hain't got no folks." "You stop somewhere, don't you ?" "I stop at the poor-'us when they don't kick me out." 1879 "Well, boy, you are not going to die from this. Go and get somebody to wash your head, or, go and wash it yourself, and tie your handkerchief on." "Please, sir, I haint't got no—" "Hold up, boy. I haven't got time to waste. You won't suffer if you go as you are." - And with this Dr. Silas Walsh closed the door and returned to his book. Tie had not meant to be unkind ; but really he had not thought there was any need of professional service on his part; and cer tainly he did uo• want that bad boy in his office. But Dr. Walsh had not been alone cog nizant of the boy's visit. There had been a witness at an upper window. The doe tor's wife had seen and beard. She was a woman. She was not strong, and reso lute, and dignified like her husband. Her heart was not only tender, but it was used to aching. She had no children living; but there were two little mounds in the churchyard which told her of angels in heaven that could call her mother ! Acting upon her impulse, as she was very apt to act, she slipped down, and called the boy in, by the back way, to the wash-room. He came in, rags, dirt and all, wondering what was wanted. The sweet voice that had called him had not frightened him. He came in ; and stood looking at Mary Walsh, and as be looked his sobbing ceased. "Sit down, my bay." He sat down. "If I will help you, will you try to be good ?" "I can't be good." "Why not ?" "Cause I can't. 'Taint in the. Every body says so." "But can't you try ?" I dunno." My Arm Chair. BY H. W. LONGFELLOW HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY JULY 25, 1879. "If I should help you, you would be willing to try, to please me ?1 "Yes'm---4 sho - tild certain." Mrs. Walsh brought a basin of water and soft sponge, and with tender hand she washed the oy's head and face. Then with a pair of scissors, she clipped away the hair from thewound—curling, hand some hair—and fund it not a bad one. She brought a piece of sticking-plaster. which she fixed upon it, arid then she brushed the hair back from the full brow, and looked into the boy's face—not a bad face—not an evil face. shuttino• ' out the rags and dirt, it was really a handsome face. • "What's your naarl, My boy ?" "Hammer Jim, ma'am ; and sometimes Ragged Jim." "I mean, how were you christened ?" 'm ?" "Don't you know what name your -pa rents gave you ?" "Oh—ye es. It's down on the ':-:eers' books, mum, as James Ammerton." "Well, James, the hurt on your head is not a bad one, and if you are careful not to rub off the plaster it will very soon heal up. Are you hungry ?" "Please, ma'am, I haven't eat nothing to-day." Mrs. Walsh brought out sonic bread and butter, and a cup of milk, and allowed the boy to sit there in the wash-room and cat. And while he ate she watched him narrowly, scanning every feature. Surely, if the science of physiognomy, which her husband studied so much, and with such • faith, was reliable, this boy ought to have grand capacities. Once more, shutting out the rags and the filth, and only ob serving the hair, now glossy and waving, from her desirous manipulations, over a shapely head, and marking the face, with its eyes of lustrous gray, and the perfect nose, and the mouth like a Cupid's bow, and the chin strong, without being un seemly—seeing this without the dregs, the boy was handsome. Mrs. Walsh, think ing of the little mounds in the church yard, prayed God that she might be a happy mother; and if a boy was to bless her maternity, she could not ask that lie should be handsomer than she believed she could make this boy. Jim finished eating, and stood up. "James," said the little woman—for she was a little woman, and a perfect pic• ture of a lovine• ' little woman—" James, when you are hungry, and have nothing to eat, if you will come to this door I will feed you. I don't want you to go hungry." "I should like to come. ma'am." "And, if I feed you when you are hun gry, will you not try to be good for my sake ?" The boy hung his head, and c6nsidered. Some might have wondered "that he did not answer at once, as a ;fateful boy ought; but Mrs. Walsh skw,deepey than that. The lad. was considering how he might answer safely - and truthfully. "If they'd let me be good, mo.'arn ; but they won't" he said. at-length. Will you try all you can ?" "Yes'm—l'll try all I can." Mrs. Walsh gave the lad a small parcel of food in a paper, and patted his curly head. The boy had not yet shed a tear since the pain of the wound had been as suaged. Some might have thought that he was not grateful ; but the little woman could see the gratitude in the deeper light of the eye. The old crust was not broken enough yet for tears. Afterwards Mrs Walsh told her hus band what she done and he laughed at her. "Do you think, Mary, that your kinds ness can help that ragged waif ?" .... .. ...... .. "I do Dot thinkhurt him, It was not the first time that Mrs. Walsh had delivered answers to the erudite doc• tor which effectually stopp3d discussion. After that Jim came often to the wash room door, and was fed; and he became cleaner and more orderly with each suc ceeding visit.. At length Mrs. Walsh was informed that a friend was ping away into the far Western country to take up land, and make a frontier farm. The thought occured to her that this might be a good opportunity for James Amni;rton. She saw her friend, and brought Jim to his notice, and the result was that the boy went away With the emigrant adventurer. And she heard from her friend a year later that he liked the boy very much. Two years later the emigrant wrote that Jim was a treasure. And Mrs. Walsh showed the letter to her husband-; and he smiled and kissed his little wife, and said he was glad. And he had another s'urce of gladness. Upon her bosom his little wife bore a ro• bust, healthy boy—their own son—who gave promise in the time to come. The years sped on, and James Ammer ton dropped out from the life that Mary Walsh knew. The last she heard was five years after he went away from Ernsworth, and Jim had then started out for the gold en mountains on his own account, to commence in earnest his own life battle. But there was a joy and a pride in the little woman's life whiellt; held its place and grew and strengthened. Her boy, whom they called Philip, grew to be a youth of great promise—a bright, kind hearted good boy, whom everybody loved ; and none loved him more than did his parents. In fact, they worshipped him; or at least his mother did. At the age of seventeen Philip Walsh entered college and at the age of twenty-one he graduated with honor ; but the long and severe study had taxed his system, and he entered upon the stage of manhood not quite so strong in body as he should have been. His mother saw it, and was anxious. His fath er saw it, and decided that he should have recreation and recuperation before lie en tered into active business. Dr. Walsh was not pecuniarily able to send his son off on expensive travel, .but he found op portunity for his engagement upon the staff of an exploring expedition, which would combine healthful recreation with an equally healthful occupation. The expedition was bound for the West ern wilderness, and we need not tell of the parting between the mother and her be loved son. She kissed him, and blessed him ; and then hung upon his neck with more kisses and then went away to her chamber and cried. Philip wrote home often while on his way out ; and he wrote after he had reach ed the wilderness. His accounts were glow ing, and his health was improving. Three months of forest life, and forest labor, of which Philip wrote in a letter that had to be borne more than a hundred miles to the nearest post, and then followed months of silence. Where was Philip ? Why did he not write ? One day Dr. Welsh came home pale and faint, with a newspaper crumpled and crushed in his hand. Not immediately, but by and by, he was forced to let his wife read what he had seen iu that paper. She read, and fainted like one mortally Stricken. It was a paper from a far West ern city, and it told the sad fate of the exploring party under charge of Colonel John Beauchatupe, how they had been at tacked by an overpowering party of Indi ans, and how those not massacred had been carried away captive. Poor little woman ! Poor Dr. Walsh ! But the mother suffered most. Her head already taking on its crown of silver, was bowed in blinding agony, and her heart was well nigh broken. The joy was gone out of her life and thick darkness was round about her. And so passed half a year. One day the postman left a letter at the door. The baud of the superscription was familiar. Mrs. Walsh tore it open, and glanced her eyes over its contents. Oh, joy ! Oh, rap ture ! her boy lived ! was well ! and was on his way home to her. When Dr. Walsh entered the room he found his wile fainting, with the letter clutched in her nerveless grasp. By and by, when the first great surge had passed, husband and wife sat down and read the letter understandingly. _ _ "Thank God ! I found a true friend, or, I should say, a true friend found me," wrote Philip, after he had told of his safe ty, and of his whereabouts. "But fbr the coming of this friend I should have died ere this. He heard of me by my name, and when he learned that I was from Eros• worth, and was the son of Silas and Mary Walsh, he bent all his energies for my re lease. lie spent thousands of dollars in enlisting and equipping men for the work, and with his own hand struck down my savage captor. and took we henceforth under his care and protection. God bless him ! And be you ready, both, to bless him, for he is coming home with me." Upon their bended knees that night, the rejoicing parents thanked God for all his goodness, and called down blessings Upon the head of the unknown preserver of their son. And, in time, radiant and strong, their Philip came home to them—came home a bold and educated man, fitted for the battle of life—came home knowing enough of lire's vici.situdes, and prepared to appre ciate its blessings. And with Philip came a man of' middle age—a strong, frank-faced, handsome man, with gray eyes and curling hair. "This," said the son, when he had been released from his mother's rapturous em brace, "is my preserver. Do you not know him ?" The doctor looked, and shook his head. He did not know. But the little woman observed more keenly. Upon her the light broke over poweringly. "Is it," she whispered, putting forth her hands—"is it—James Ammerton ?" "Yes," said the man—a stranger now no mare. "I am James .Arnmerton ! And 'thank God who has given me opportu nity thus to show how gratefully I remem ber all your kindness to me, my more than mother." And he held her hands, and pressed them to his lips, and blessed her again and again, telling her with streaming eyes, that she of all the world, had lifted him up and saved him. That evening Mrs. Walsh, sitting by her husband's side and holding one of his hands, said to him : "Once upon a time a pebble was kicked about in the waste of sand. A lapidary saw it, and picked it up, and when be had brushed away the dirt from its sur face, he applied his chisel, and broke through the crust, and behold—a diamond, pure and bright !" *eitct Visttliany. The Painter's Bill. A painter had been employed to repair a number of pictures in a convent; he did it, and presented a bill in full for fifty-nine francs and eleven centimes to the curate, who refused to pay it, saying that the committee would require a complete de tail. The painter produced it as follows : Corrected and renewed the Ten Commandments Embellished Pontius Pilate and put new ribbonoplais bonnet 3 06 Put a new tail on ihe, rooster of St. Peter and t6nctetifis comb 3 20 Replumed and gilded the left wing of the Guardian Angel 4 1S Washed the servant of the High Priest and put carmine on his cheeks 5 12 Rene wedlleaven,adjusted two stars, gilded the sun, cleaned the moon 7 14 Reanimated the flames of purgatory and restored some souls 6 06 Revived the flames of hell, pal - a new tail on the devil, mended his left hoof and did several jobs for the damned 4 10 Rebordered the robe of Herod and re-adjusted his wig. 4 04 Put new spatterdashes on the son of Tobias and dressing on his sack, 2 00 Cleaned the ears of Balaam's ass and shod him 3 07 Put earrings in the ears of Saturn, 2 04 Put a new stone in David's sling, enlarged the head of Goliah and extended his legs 3 02 Decorated Noah's ark 3 00 Mended the shirt of the Prodigal Son and cleaned the pigs.. 4 09 59 11 Tutal, Stephen Girard's Tactics. A man who had just set up in the hard ware business ; and who had been a clerk where Stephen Girard had traded, applied to him for a share of his patronage. Girard bought of him, and when he brought in the bill found fault and marked down the prices. "Cask of nails," said he, "which I was offered for so and-so, and you must take it off." • "I cannot do it," said the . merchant. 'You must do it," said Girard. cannot and will not," said the young merchant. Girard bolted out of the door, apparent. ly in a rage and soon after sent a check for the whole bill. The young man began to relent and say to himself : "Perhaps he was offered them at that price. But it is all over now ; I am sorry I did not reduce the bill and get it out of him on something else. His trade would have been worth a good deal to me." By and by Girard came again, and gave him another job The young man was very courteous, and said : "I am almost sorry I did not reduce your former bill." "Reduce a bill !" said Girard ; "had you done it, I would never trade with you again. I meant to see if you had cheated me." Col. Bob Ingersoll's Speech to the Jury. The Colonel was lately employed in a case which involved the manufacture of ardent spirits, and in his speech to the jury he used the following language . ‘4 am aware there is a prejudice against any man engaged in the manufacture of alcohol. I believe from the time it issues from the coiled and poisonous worm in the distillery until it empties into the hell of death, dishonor and crime, that it is de moralizing to everybody that touches it from the source to where it ends. I do not believe that any body can contemplate the subject without being prejudiced against the crime. All we have to do is to think of the wrecks on either side of the stream of death, of suicides, of the in sanity, of the poverty, of the destitution, of the little children tugging at the breast of weeping and despairing wi'ves 'asking for bread, of the man of genius it has wrecked, the man struggling with imagin ary serpents produced by this devilish thing; and when you think of the jails, of the almshouses, of the asylums, of the prisons and of the scaffolds on either bank, I do not wonder that every thoughtful man is prejudiced against this vile stuff called alcohol. Intemperance cuts down youth in its vigor, manhood in its strength, and age in its weakness. It breaks the father's heart, bereaves the doting mother, ex tinguishes natural affection, erases conjugal love, blots out filial attachments and blights parental hope, and brings premature age in sorrow to the grave. It produces weak ness, not strength ; sickness, not health ; death, not life. It makes wives widows, children orphans, fathers fiends, and all paupers. It feeds rheumatism, nurses gout, welcomes epidemics, invites cholera, imports pestilence, and embraces consump tion. It covers the land with misery, idleness and crime. It engenders contro versies, fosters quarrels, and cherishes riots. It crowds your penitentiaries, and furnishes victims to the scaffolds. It is the blood of the gambler, the element of the burglar, the prop of the highwayman, and the support of the midnight incendiary. It countenances the liar, respects the thief, esteems the blasphemer. It violates obli gations, reverences fraud, honors infamy. It defames benevolence, hates love, scorns virtue and innocence. It incites the father to butcher his helpless offspring, and the child to grind the parental axe. It burns up men, consumes women, detests life, curses God, and despises. heaven. Lt suborns witnesses, nurses perfidy, defiles the jury box and stains the judicial ermine. It bribes voters, disqualifies votes, corrupts elections, pollutes our institutions, and en dangers the government. It degrades the citizen, debases the legislator, dishonors the statesman, and disarms the patriot. It brings shame, not honor ; terror, not safe ty ; despair, not hope ; misery, not happi ness; and with the malevolence of a fiend, calmly surveys its frightful desolation, and, unstained with havoc, it poisons a felicity, kills peace, ruins morals, blights confidence, stabs reputation, and wipes- ;sat national honor, then curses the world and laughs at its ruin. It does that and more—it murders the soul. It is the sum of all villainies, the father of all crimes, the mother of all abominations, the devil's best friend, and God's worst enemy!' Remedies Worth Trying. A Paris correspondent referring to his recovery from a dangerous illness, says: I mention this illness that I may tell you how easily I was cured. I was bent double. I could not breathe. My physician ordered me to take a flat iron and heat it as hot as I could bear; put a double fold of flannel on the painful part and move the iron to and fro on the flannel. I was cured by enchantment. My doctor told me that some time since a Professor in one of our colleges, after suffering some days with neuralgia in the head which he himself bad tried to cure, sent for the former, who prescribed a hot flat iron. The next time the Doctor saw the Professor the latter ex claimed with mock anger : "I really shall not pay you any fee ! for I had no sooner applied the heated iron to my head than instantly all pain vanished ! That is as simple as good day ; surely you cannot ex pect a fee for it !" My physician was summoned rently to the bed-side of a woman who had neuralgia in both sides, and so violently that she alarmed the whole neighborhood by the screams which her intolerable anguish wrung from her. She was taken from her bed and borne near the fire. In such severe cases a heated iron is not energetic enough. He has an an iron rod fastened in an ivory handle. He heats this road to white heat (which causes less pain than red heat) and applies it very slightly to the seat of pain, first in longitudinal, then in latitudinal lines.— The application is so light that no trace is left but red - lines on the epidermis which ore soon efficed. In twenty minutes the woman walked back to bed and the third day afterwards quitted it entirely freed from neuralgia. This instrument is not to be intrusted to awkward. hands. Three weeks ago one of our brilliant artists was invited to shoot by the owner of a chateau in whose grounds there are wild fowl in abundance. He woke, the morning after arrival at this gentleman's house, with sciatica in his right thigh. He could not leave his bed. The nearest doctor was sent for. "I can do nothing which wilt give you immediate relief." The artist is a patient of my physician. He told the doctor what to do. The latter declined taking the responsibility of any such vio- lent treatment. "But I assume all respon sibility." The doctor applied an iron rod heated to white heat, but so awkwardly that the artist has scars the size of a five franc piece on his thigh. He was never theless cured, and enjoyed a week's sport without another twitch of pain. A MAN in London who had made a for tune as proprietor of a newspaper, wanted to name a vessel "The Printer's Devil," in memory of his old business, but that name being thought too long, the craft was called "The Devil," for short; and this name proving prejudicial to the owner, he finely got it changed to "The News boy." A FRENCH surgeon inserts watch crys• tals in the skulls of dogs, in order that he way observe their brain-works. If he thinks he can make good watch-dogs in that way, then that Frenchman is mista ken. "You ain't afraid to die ?" said the clergyman, tenderly. "No," replied the sufferer, "I'm only afraid if I do the old womaa will go snooting among my private papers the first thing." SUBSCRIBE for the JOURNAL. icat Bitstaq. THE OLD FOOT-PRINTS OF THE RECEDING RED 11 AND THE EARLY LAND-MARKS OF THE COMING WHITE MA WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO • The Juniata Region, BY PROF. A. L. GUSS, OF HUNTINGDON, PA, 'rift good to mwte on Nationspavred away Forever front the laud we call our own. ARTICLE XV French and Worley continue in their report to say that "the Senaques," who were a band of old Sasqttehannocks, form erly adopted into the Mingoes, or Five Na tions, and now representing- them on the lower Susquehanna, headed by a king known as Civility, had held a council among them, and "determined to send these belts, brou;ht by the Tuscaroroes, to the Five Nations." REPLY TO THEIR REQUESTS French and Worley informed these Tus caroras that the white people of the sev eral colonies were all subjects of the Crown of Great Britain; so that it was expected that their intentions were peaceable not only to us of Pennsylvania, but to all other subjects of the Crown ; and "that if they intend to settle and live amicably here, they need not doubt the protection of this Government in such things as were honest and good ;" but in order to confirm their past peaceable conduct towards the En glish, and create a good opinion of them in the people here, it would be very neces sary to procure a certificate, from the Gov ernment they leave, of their good be havior, and then they might rest assured of a favorable reception. French and Worley conclude their lam entably brief report by saying, that "the forewritten contents were by the chiefs of the Tuscaroroes to us delivered ; the sin cerity of their intentions we cannot any wise doubt, since they are of the same rare and language with our Seneques, who have always proved trusty, and have also for these many years been neighbors to a Government jaalous of Indians and yet not displeased with them." THE PLAIN ENGLISH OP IT The general purport of this message, when divested of the idioms of the Indian language, is unmistakable. They wanted to prepare for a peaceable settlement in this Province, through a treaty, to be held with their kings the next year. Their reasons are plainly perceptible. The sin cerity of their intentions to live peaceably among us, impressed the agents of this Province. We cannot help believing that their subsequent outrages in Carolina, were the only methods of which these savages knew by which to redress their grievances. At this juncture, they seem to have been anxious to forsake the laud of their fathers, for the sake of peace, and to avoid a con flict, of which they already had fearful ap prehe-Asions. THEY CAME NOT-IN WAR ? I find no records of any treaty being held the next year. But in that year, June IS, 1711, the Governor went to Oeu estago, and met the head men of the "Sen equois and Shawnois," who had entertained the Tuscarora deputies the year previous. He told them that Gov. Penn was "about to settle some people upon the branches of Potowrnack." To this the Indians replied that "as they are at present in a war with the Toscororoes and other Indians, they think that place not safe for any Chris• tians," as it is "situate betwixt them and those at war with them." The word "Senequois" here of course refers to the Senecas, who being by far the most num erous of the Five Nations, their name was sometimes given to all of them as a con federacy. Here, however, it is used to de note a body of Indians of kindred blood and language. commonly known as Cones togas, and who were a remnant of the an cient Sasquesahannoughs or Minquas, who were exterminated by the Iroquois in 1677. Though they were tributary to the Iro quois, like all the other nations in Penn sylvania, yet being more nearly related to and using the same language as the Iro quois, they in some measure represented them at the lower Susquehanna, and caused them to be here termed "our Seneques." As the "Senequois and Shawnois," the Delawares and Ganawense or Piscataway's, who were settled at this time along the Susquehanna, from Peshtang down, were all tributaries of the Five Nations, and hence not allowed to go to war, except by their permission, it is hard to explain this declaration, that they were then engaged in a war with the Tuscaroras, especially so as we can find no account elsewhere of such a war, IROQUOIS FRIENDS OF TUSCARORAS- It is a well known fact, that from a time soon after the advent of the English on the Atlantic coast, up to some time 'after the French and Indian War, for some 150 years, the Iroquois were almost constantly carrying on some predatory or extermina ting warfare against the Indians southward, and especially against the Catawbas and Cherokees, but it is doubtful whether du ring the latter portion of this time they ever waged war against their kinsfolk, the Tuscaroras. This was not because they were opposed to making war on , their kindred of the same family, for they were peculiarly bitter in exterminating several of these very nations; but the Tuscaroras seem never to have been disturbed, but on the contrary defended and aided. Perhaps this was because by the time they had ex terminated all the intervening nations, they had their hands full in combating the French, and other Algonquin tribes, so that it became their interest to make common cause with the Tuscaroras iu re sisting the encroachments of some of the white people. This doubt seems to be re duced to a certainty, when we find, as we shall presently show, that during the three years immediately succeeding, they ex tended sympathy and material aid to the Tuscaroras in their conflict with Virginia and North Carolina. • IROQUOIS ASSISTANCE. Nevertheless it does seem, that at one time, as the report of Lawrence Clawson, May 6, 1712, sets forth, that the Iroquois had agreed to assist the Virginians in the reduction of the Tuscarora '•murderers;" but if they did so promise, under some pressure brought to bear upon them, it, is certain they never did anything to carry it out. Williamson in his history of North Caro lina, Vol. 1, p. 197, gives a quotation of a writer contemporaneous with the events, who says : "The Tuskarora Indians, nu merous and well provided with arms and ammunition, expect assistance from the Five Nations, or Senekas. llence, they are confident of success." TITEY WERE or KiNDRET) MOOT) It must ever be kept in mind that the Tuscaroras, although isolated and living to the southward, were in reality a branch of the great Il uron• Iroquois family. The fact that they spoke the same language, and were repeatedly recognized by the Five Nations as their relatives, proves most conclusively that at some remote period, perhaps long anterior to the dis covery of America, the Tuscaroras must have migrated from the parent hive in New York and Canada. The claim to a common origin advanced by a people living so far distant, throws an interesting light on the migration of Indian tribes. Being "of the same race and language with our Senecas," it.was natural that under pres sure they should seek refuge under the protecting wing of their kindred ; and it is a no less interesting fact that this claim of relationship finally received practical recog nition in the assignment of a portion of the Oneida territory for their occupation. YAMOYDEN, NO ACCOUNT OE THEIR COMING. That the Tuscaroras did not consumate their treaty the next year after their visit to Conestoga for their removal into this Province, was doubtless because of the war they became involved in the following year, and the hostile attitude of the in tervening Virginians. It is passing strange that our Colonial Records have go account of the exodus of the :Tuscaroras at the time it occurred. This i the more re markable, as th..y were c'ery jealous of "strange Indians" coming. ietti-:the Pro vince,.as far example, on , al air 1, 1707, when "several strange Indians came from Carolina", to the Sbawanois towns on the Susquehanna, an effort was made to get their principal men to Philadelphia, to give an account of "their reasons for leav ing their native country and transporting themselves hither." Why no note was taken of so important a matter as the in flux of the Tuscaroras, can enly bo ac counted fbr on the idea that they settled far inland, so distant froni any of the white people, that it was not deemed, at that time, as yet of any public importance. We shall hear of theta again by and by. FEARS EXPRESSED IN NEW YORK. While we do not find that Pennsylvania was excited over the migration of the Tus caroras, yet we do find positive expressions of fear in New York. June 23, 1712, Gov. Hunter, of New York wrote to the Board of Trade : •-The war betwixt the people of North Carolina and the Tusca rora Indians is like to embroil us all. The Five Nations. by instigation of the French, threaten to jnin with 'them." Hert is seen the fear of the Five Nations making common cause with the Tuscaroras, and producing a war against all the English. September 10, 1713„ the same Robert Hunter writes to William Popple: "The Five Nations are hardly to be persuaded from sheltering the Tuscarora 'lndians, which- would etnbroil vs all." The shelter ing evidently refers to allowing theta to live somewhere on their uudispated ter ritories. How this might "embroil us all" will be seen in the savage letter of the Governor of Virginia to the Governor of New York some seven yearS 'after this . • HAVE COMPASSION 0N . 1 1 11E31. At a conference held with, the Five Nations September 20, 1713, as Set forth in the journey of Hansen and others - to Onondaga, one of the Iroquois orators said : "The Tuscarorase went out heretofore from US and have settled themselves there (in Cazolina); now they have got in war, and are dispersed, and have abandoned their castles. But have compassion on them. The English have got the uppei hand of them, they have abandoned their castles, and are scattered hither and thither. Let that suffice. [Here follows a request that C'orlear, Governor of New York, will act 'as mediator, assuring him that they will do no more harm.] For they are no longer a nation, with a name, being once dis persed." A year after this, September 20, 1714, at a conference with _Gov. Hunter, the Five Nation orator says: "We acquaint you that the TOsearora Indians are come to shelter themselves among the Five Na tions. They were of us, and went. from us long ago, and are now returned, and promise to live peaceably among us." This for the first time sounds as if some of the Tuscaroras were actually living among the Iroquois; though being on the Juniata and along the middle Susquehanna, may. in the language of that day, under the wide sway of Iroquois rule, have been re garded as sheltering among the Five Na tions. It is utterly impossible to follow the detached fragments of the broken up Tuscarora confederacy, but it is not pro. bable that the mass of them had come any further north at this time than the Juniata region. ?ERROR OF THE iIVA NATION 3. The Indians of the Five Nations were the dread and terror of those in the south, as well as of those of New England and the. west. They were early brought into a league of friendship with New York in which they resided. The policy or this on their own part, an& on the other hand on the part of the Dutch and English, as against the intervening "River Indians" a❑d the distant French, we have set forth in another article. They frequently brightened the chain of friendship in con ferences held at Albany. But they had an unconquerable thirst for war. They had to have some tribe, on which the young men could practice the arts • of war and gather spoil?. War was their normal con dition TilFilt RMPS SOUTMVARD Pennsylvania had long escaped their ravages; as all the tribes within her borders, since the destruction of the Sasquehan Docks in 1677, were in subjection to their rule, and rendered theta tribute and obedience. But they travekd across her borders in their predatory raids upon the Indians south of the Potomac. This brought them in collision with the governments of Mary land and Virginia. .In Ithii24, they were forced to indemnify those Provinces fOr their depredations. Treaties were repeat edly made and as often broken. The fault as usual was laid at the door of the young men who were indiscreet and could not be restrained. GOVERNORS I)ANCINU TO ALBANY. In December 1719, the President of the Council of New York, wrote a circular let ter to the Governors of Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia and Carolina on Indian affairs. He observed that the Five Na tions living in that Province, "think them • selves slighted by the goveremeats to the southward," and intimated that it was .time to come fo Albany and hold a treaty with them. This enraged Gov. Spottswood, of Virginia, who was opposed to all the King's Governors dancing many hundred miles to Albany, to treat upon every whim and ca price of "your savages," as he says to the Governor. NO. 29. (To be continued.)
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers