VOL. 43. The Huntingdon Journal. Ulfice in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street. THE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL is published every Friday by J. A. NASH, at $2,00 per annum IN ADVANCE, or $2.0 it eot paid for in six months from date of sub scription, and 83 if not paid within the year. No 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 advertisemonts will be inserted at TWELVE AND A-E1 I.LF CENTS per Line for the first insertion, NETZN AND A- HALF CENTS for the second and FIVE CENTS per line for all subsequent insertions. Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements will be inserted at the fol lOW Mg; rate.s : 13m in }9m; 1 yr 3m 1 6m 19m!lyr 11,1350 , 4 5. 5 50! 8 001 , 4c01l 9 00118 00 $2713 36 2 1 5 0 , , 00,1000 12 OW tAcolllB 00136 00 50 1 65 3 1700 10 t 5, 14 00 10 00Nc01134 00.50 00 651 80 4 " I 8 00;14 00,20 00 ; 18 0011 nal; 38 00160 00, 80 100 All Resolutions of Associations, Communications: of limited or individual interest, all party announcements, and notices of Marriages and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will be charged TEN CENTS per line. Legal and other notices will be charged to the party Laving them inserted. Advertising Agents must find their commission outside of these figures. All advertising accounts are due and collectable when the ail rortisentent is one inserted. JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch. Iland-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, Ac., of every variety and style, printed at the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing line will he executed in the most artistic mariner and at the lowest rates. Professional Cards• G. B. 11.0TCHKIN, 825 Washington Street, Ilan• .1/ tingdon. junel4-1878 DCALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. ill, 3rd street. 1/. Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods 1 Wil liamson. [apl2,7l_ Dl2. A.B. BRUMBAUGFI, offers his professional services to the comtn unity. Office, No. WM Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. fjan4,'7l DR. has permanently located in Alexandria to practice his profession. [jan.4 '7B-Iy. EC. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentik. Office in Leister's . building, in the room formerly occ4ied by Dr. E. J Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2S, '76. EO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at,Law, 405 Penn Street, U Huntingdon, Pa. [n0v17,'75 GL. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building, . No. 520, Penn Street, Huntingdon, I'a. [apl2.'7l l I C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Of fi ce, No. —, Penn . Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l TSYLVANUS BLAIR, Attoruey-at-Law, Iluntingdon, Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of and Street. [jan4,7l JT W. 3IATTERN, 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,ll IGRAINE ASHMAN, Attorney-at Law. Office: No. 405 Peuu S:reet, Huntingdon, Pa. July LS, 1879. T S. GEISSING ER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, IJ. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [febs,'7l SE. FLEMINO, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., . °dice in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt and careful attention given - to all legal business. [augs,74-Bmoa WM. P. & R. A. ORBISON, Attorneyz-at-Law, No. 321 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. All kinds of legal business promptly attended to. Sept-12,'78. New Advertisements. BROWN'S C RPET STORE, 525 PENN STREET, JUST THE PLACE FOR HOUSEKEEPERS ! FRESFI STOCK ! NEW STYLES!! 4879, 1879. CARPETS, ALL GRADES AND AT PRICES THAT CAN NOT BE UNDERSOLD. FURNITURE, The Largest Stock and variety of Chairs, Beds, Tables, Chamber Suits, Lounges, ROCKERS, MOULDINGS, BRACKETS, ac., 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 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 one solid piece without joints. [Bring diagram and measurement.] For PICTURE FRAMES AND LOOKINC CLASSES, This is headquarters. Mattresses, Window Cornice, and anything in the Cabinet or Upholstering line made to order or repo/Fred promptly. D T AK I G Also added to the FURNITURE and CARPET BUSINESS Plain Coffins, Elegant Caskets and Burial Cases, WOOD OR LIGHT METALIC TO SUIT ALL. BURIAL ROBES IN VARIETY. .A. PINE PI., ATE C4a_,..A.SS H E ARSE Ready to attend funerals in town or country. My new clerk and traveling agent, FERDINAND Roca, 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, &c., 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 A. 525 1 3 '1_ 7 1,NN DON, March 21, 1879. There is no "Powaer in the Cellar," TONS OF IT IN OUR MAGAZINE. DuPont's Powder. WE ARE THE AGENTS FOR THE 4 4 4 4 l * 4 ♦ 1 4 1 1 1 4 4 , GEIEDE TD rfa p agT i ) 0:- - •I°' it' v. - 't SEND IN YOUR ORDERS. 1-IMINTTR;Y" B.D CO _, ITITINTINGDON, A priil 25, Is;:t, S. WOLF'S. At Gwin's Old Stand, 505 PENN STREET. Not much on the blow, but always ready for work The largest and finest line of Clothing, Hats and Caps GENTS.' FURNISHING GOODS, In town and at great sacrifice. Winter Goods 20 PER CENT. UNDER COST. Call and be convinced at S. WOLF'S, 505 Penn at. RENT AND EXPENSES REDUCED, At S. WOLF'S. lam better able to sell Clothing, Hats and Caps, Gents.' Furnishing Goods, Trunks and Valises, CHEAPER than any other store in town. Call at Gwin'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. OLF'S, 505 Penn street, one door west from Express Office. S. MARCH, Agent. TO THE PUBLIC.—I have removed my Cloth ing and Gents.' Furnishing Goods store to D. P. Gwin's old stand. %ta...Expenses reduced and better bargains than ever can be got at S. Wolf's 505 Penn Street. March 28, 1879. BEAUTIFY YOUR ITOMES! The undersigned is prepared to do all kinds of 110 USE AND SIGN PAINTING , Calcimining, Glazing, Paper Hanging, and any and all work belonging to the business. Having had 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. ROIILAND. March 14th, 1879-tf. New Advertisements. B R 0 W N, IT'r ...., . ... - , _ ...... ~„.. ..... ® . ~, ....., ..,.. . . u.ntin 1- e--,4 , ‘ _ - 0 urnal al IV ,f ao New Advertisements. HERE WE ARE ! -AND p' ),{l,,lf i triFilit i I Ilial t' T' :I s l'—' Eke Puts' Jztitter A Poetical Contrast. THE DOVE AND TIIE RAVEN Few poems have been more wide:2; read than "Poe's Raven," so peculiar in its style and gloomy in its thought and conception. For long years it has hung over the human heart with a dark, despondent chillness, and where sorrow and loss and disappointment had found a lodgment in a weak sad sensitive nature, it has made the gloom darker, the loss heavier and the disappointment still greater. Echoing through the sad portals of bereaved and lonely hearts, the refrain of "Nevermore" has been the death-knell of hopes that might have been nursed into renewed life by a more cheerful faith and a brighter and happier visi tant from "Aiden." With this view of the matter in his mind, Rev. J. H. Martin, D. D., pastor of the First Presbyterian church of Atlanta, has written a companion poem "The Dove," which takes a more cheerful and soul inspiring view of the "dear departed." Instead of a dark-winged messenger of sorrow and gloom, a bird of brighter plumage and sweeter voice comes back from "Alden" to the silent chamber of the bereaved lover. To Christian hearts that look beyond mere literary excellence, this tender poem of faith and hope will prove most acceptable. The Dove A COMPANION TO POE'S RAVEN HST. J. H. MARTIN, D D. Once upon a summer evening, As I lay reposing, dreaming, While the twinkling stars were beaming, And their light was faintly gleaming, Through the windows of my room, Suddenly beside my pillow, Like the murmur of a billow, Or the sight of weeping willow, 'Mid the shadow and the gloom, There was heard a gentle sound Floating on the air around, As an echo from above ? And I, waking, saw a dove Perched upon the whitened head Of a statue near my bed, And it seemed with soft, low cooing, My lone heart to sooth with wooing, Like an angel from the sky, Ur a spirit hovering nigh. While I lay entranced and dreaming, Startled by the echo seeming To be whispered from above, In the starlight faintly gleaming, With its form of beauty beaming, I beheld the snowy dove— With a thrill of wonder gazing On the visitor, amazing, I demanded : "Who are you ?" And the gentle bird of whiteness, With its snowy robe of brightness, Answered with a coo : "I am sent," he said, '•from Aideu, By a fair and lovely maiden, With a message unto thee : I am come to soothe thy sorrow, Bid thee from despair to borrow Hope that thou her face shall see ; For they cherished one is living, And her thoughts to thee is giving, On a bright and distant shore ; And I come, her carrier dove, With a message from thy love, Who is thine forevermore." By this joyful news excited, Raptured, ravished and delighted, I, the snowy bird addressing, Asked, with earnest voice, inquiring, What my soul was most desiring, That her name to me expressing, He would set my heart at rest— Still the tumult in my breast, And assure me that MY maiden, In the distant fields of Aiden Waited for miP on that shore— Would be mine forevermore. Then I spoke with greater fervor, I, the maiden's ardent lover : "Does my own departed live 7" - (To the bird of whiteness listening While my-eager eyes were glistening, For the answer be should give) ; "Tell me, 0 thou carrier dove, Of my absent cherished love, Whom I knew in days of yore ; Has she passed the shining portal Of the blessed land immortal, Going through the golden door? Does she move in light and splendor, Do the graces all attend her, On that fair and distant shore?" Words and tones and looks revealing All my depths of inward f.eling, Moved, affeeted by my pleading, And my anxious questions heeding, Thus the dove, my soul discerning, Answer made these words returning: "In the distant fields of Aiden, On a bright, Elysian shore, Dwells a fair and lovely maiden, And her name is Ejinore : 'Mid the flowers about ber blooming, 'tlid the odors sweet perfuming All the balmy air around, She, arrayed in robes of whiteness, Walks, an angel in her brightness, With a wreath immortal crowned." Then the bird, his wings unfolding, Left me as I lay beholding, Filled with transport and delight ; With a soft sonorous coo, Nodding, bidding me adieu, Through the open window flew Out into the gloomy night. But the bright, enchanting vision Of the distant fields Elysian, And my cherished Elinore, As a fair and lovely maiden, Dwelling in the land of Alden, Is my light forevermore. There shall I, loved one greeting, At our future, early meeting. On that distant, radiant shore. With ecstatic joy and gladness, Free from parting, pain and sadness Clasp again my Elinore, Call her mine forevermore. Ely warp-Etlier. TRUE' NOBILITY. Tessie Rivers was just twenty, and look ing back over that short period of life, she felt she would not cure to live the years over again. . . . . Since the death of a loving, indulgent, but most incompetent parent, the girl had known almost every vicissitude of trouble and privation that could be possible to the experience of the young, the sensitive and the refined. At twenty a Vassarite might almost have envied Tessie Rivers for her erudi tion ; and many a pampered favorite of wealth and aristocratic pretentious might have coveted her grace and dignity of de meanor, more, perhaps, than her rich, vivid and healthful loveliness. But she was not at all satisfied with the station to which fate had assigned her, she was sick to the soul of this perpetual struggle between hidden want and osten sible modest comfort. "I should nct quite care to live my twenty years ever again," she avered, mentally, as divesting herself of her be coming black cloth cloak and prettily plumed black velvet hat, she entered the cheerful room where her mother was rath er eagerly awaiting her coming. "Are you tired, dear 2" questioned Mrs. Rivers, tenderly. "Not at all, mamma," answered Tessie, taking her seat at the cosy table. "When one'a talk is interesting, one does not be come fatigued easily ; if I had nothing less pleasant to do than to arrange Lucille Carrington's flowers and flounces, I should be happy, I think." HUNTINGDON, PA , FR "Ah, Tessie," smiled the mother, "the most humble labor would never be distaste. ful to you so long as you might find an element of the :esthetic in it." "And if I might always serve a lady as considerate and gracious as Miss Carring ton," she added. "She never patronizes me • she treats me as a trusted friend." firs. Rivers sighed as she sipped her tea silently, choosing neither to contem plate nor discuss an impending trouble unless that it might be averted. "I do not care to think or speak of a misfortune that cannot be prevented," she observed, after a sorrowful pmts. , . "To grieve in prospective is but folly. heaven has proportioned our strength to our trials, and to rebel against the inevitable is un wise; besides, Tessie, I am sure that Mon- rieth Carrington is much too kind and gen erous to distress us about that mortgage." "But I should prefer not to appeal to Mr. Carrington's generosity, mamma; and if you love me you will not do so," re turned the girl, quickly, as she blushed before the tender, inquiring eyes turned toward her. "You fancy he would think you indeli cate to request a favor, since he has hon ored you with a preference tint you may not reciprocate ?" suggested Mrs. Rivers "I wish, my love, you could give him some little hope. As his wife you might be very happy, Tessie." "And I might be very miserable," pro tested Tessie. "Kindly as his family treat me now, they might behave very differently toward me as the wife of the only son and brother of whom they are so proud, and expect so much. I might not find the situation agreeable. Besides. mamma—" The young lady paused, growing slightly , pale, and a vague expression of yearning and pain shadowed her bonny brown eyes "Besides what ?" urged her mother, gently. "Never mind what, mamma, dear," was the grave answer; "but I have had dreams of a very different and much more passion ate and enthusiastic affection than I can ever feel for Monreith—much as I honor him. But let us not discuss the subject, if you please." The next morning Mr. Carrington called. "Lucille sent me," he explained,:polite ly ; but his voice betrayed the pleasure and gratification with which he had become his sister's messenger. The trivial errand performed, he still lingered, and Tessie, knowing why, began to tremble. Her fond and handsome suitor pleased ber, and she was keenly conscious of the honor be offered her, but the girlish heart refused to be wholly satisfied. And yet he was a noble fellow and loved her too well to deny her anything she might desire.— This pitiful struggle for the simplest com forts of life would be over forever. "Will you not give me my answer, Tes- , sie ?" pleaded her wooer. "I have waited so long." were only sure I would make you. happy," she stammered, undecided. "You would, dear," he persisted, earnest ly. "I should be happy in caring for you. My child, I love you so unselfishly that I. should make any honorable sacrifice to save you from the pain or trouble of a single hour." "And I, responded Tessie, in odd, ab straeted, dreamy tones, "should rather en dure the worst in silence and alone, than to feel that one I loved was suffering for me." "I should be glad to suffer for you if by that I might win you," he said. But he had won her, and a few minutes later he left her, the touch of her rosy mouth yet warm on his lips, and she went back to her mother's room wearing on her pretty white hand the jeweled token of her betrothal. "Mamma, dear, I have accepted Mr. Carrington," she said simply. "I am very glad, Tessie," replied Mrs. Rivers. "I have feared that you would refuse him, and possibly fir the sake of John Eustis." "John has never asked ma to be his wife, mamma," returned thewearily. and something in the suddenly spiritless attitude of the graceful, drooping figure, some vague, unsatisfied expression of the strangely pale face half hidden by the loose tawny curls, disturbed and pained her watchful parent. When Carrington reached his office he found a gentleman there waiting for him. "Ah, Mr. Eustis. You wished to see me?" he observed, lightly. "Yes, I particularly desired to see you to-day concerning a mortgage you hold, just due, and that I wish to pay," was the prompt explanation. Carrington had quite forgotten the claim he had against the ptoperty of Mrs. Riv ers, and that he had only secured from a clamoring creditor of her deceased husband that he might befriend the girl whom he dearly loved. "Are you prepared to do this ?" he in quired wonderingly, of the young man, whose income was decidedly not opulent. "And may I know your motive for wish ing to do it ?" "Could I not have come entirely pre pared I should not have come at all," he returned quietly. "My motive is to please and surprise the lady whom I expected to marry. For months I have dreamed how her sweet eyes would glisten when I should be able to assure her that I had saved her dear old home for her bonny sake." It was impossible to believe any falsity or littleness of John Eustis, and conceited and egotistical he certainly was nut. And it was equally impossible to suspect co quetry or perfidy of sweet Tessie Rivers. Carrington ventured a few subtle ques tions that were readily and innocently an swered, and thus shrewdly learned the truth. There was not, nor had there ever been, any engagement between Juhn Eus tis and Tessie Rivers—only a life-long, wordless understanding of tenderest affec tion and truest fidelity. "I should make any honorable sacrifice to save you from the pain and trouble of a single hour, he had told her that morn ing, meaning it to the uttermost, and the time for the sacrifice had come. The busi ness was speedily and satisfactorily trans acted, and Tessie's pleased young lover turned to go when his friend stopped him. "I, too, wish to see Mrs. Riwers," he said. "I shall follow you presently. Do not leave the house till I shall have come. Promise me you will a not, John." The young man promised, and hurried away impatient to surprise Tessie with the proofs of his loyal and generous devotion. "Oh, John, you ought not to have done this!" she cried, in a voice of regret and distress. "You could not afford it, and beside something has happened, John, that made it unnecessary." He gazed at her in mute wonder. The pain of her sweet eyes startled him. "Why could I not affOrd it, my pet," he asked gently, "When you are to share all DAY SEPTEMBER 12, 1879. I have by and by, when you will be my own—my wife ?" "Oh, John," she gasped, "you never asked me to marry you, and now you are too late—oh, John, too late !" And then she covered her face and be gan to sob bitterly. The poor child had never hidden a sorrow from him before in all her life. She had always gone to him for comfort in all her griefs, and it did net occur to her that it was net quite proper and consistent for him to console her in a grief like this. But in the midst of her tears she sud denly remembered, and she fled away from his detaining hand to the farthest end og the parlor, only to meet Carrington, who had just come in. "Tessie," he began, kindly, "I have made my sacrifice, and I have Came to tell you. I know the whole story, just as you would tell me yourself did you not wish to spare me pain. Ido not blame you, lit tle one. lam your friend and his. Go to him and comfort him. You will make him as I a py as you could have made me, had Heaven meant me to be your husband. I shall see your mamma, and save you from all unpleasant explanations." His goodness touched her. In her grat itude she could have knelt at his feet and kissed the kindly hands which now led her back to her wondering lover. The next moment he was gone. and John's arms were about her, and John's kisses were on her lips. ()n Tessie's wedding morning she found among her bridal gifts a magnificent sou venir from Monreith Carrington, who re• tamped fur her all the delicate and chival rous sentiment of such a riend as only a noble gentleman can give to an adorable lady. ticct Rtisctilaq. How to Obtain Pure Water. Dr. Townshend, health officer of the District of Columbia, says in an address issued to the public : Water,'uext to air, is the chief necessary of life. We may even place it before food, because all food is largely composed of it; and it is requir ed, too, for personal cleanliness. and for the purification of our houses and their surroundings. Wells are the most danger ous sources of Water supply, f,r few wells are safe from surface pollution. Wells should, therefore, be properly located, to avoid all possible risk of contamination from their surroundings, carefully built with elevated curbs and covered tops. The water they contain should be examin ed at short intervals. A simple method of examination is by dissolving a lump of loaf sugar in a quantity of the suspected water in a clean bottle, which should have a close fitting glass stopper. Set the bot tle in the window of a room where the sunlight will fall on it. If' the water re mains bright and limped after a week's exposure, it may beprotiounced fit for use. But if it becomes turbid during the week's efposure, it may be pronounced fit for use. But if it becomes turbid during the week, it contains enough impurity to be unheal thy. Sucit water should not be used for drinking purposes until it has been boiled and filtered; after which it should be aerated by any simple process, such as pouring several ,times from one vessel into another in the open air. The addition of a solution of permanganate of potassa will also serve, in most cases, to sufficiently purify water for drinking purposes. Eight grains of the permanganate to one ounce of diztilled or boiled water will make the solution. Add one drop of this to halt' a pint of the suspected water; if the red tint disappears in halfan hour, add another drop. For every drop that loses its color in the half pint, there will be from one half to two grains of organic impurity in one gallon of the water. If such water must' be used, drop in the permanganate until the red tint remains; the solution in this proportion is not injurious, nor dues it taste unpleasantly. •••...---•-•----_ _ Thoughts. "There are women shrinking from the woman that is sinking, From the woman that is nearing the red abyss of shame." When a person falls from society it seems that every former friend is ready to give them a kick. Every day we hear or cases that should call forth our sympathy, but instead we atld a curse.- When a woman falls all her former companions pass her by and allow her to sink deeper and deep er in her sin. Too many women are thrown upon the mercies of the world to lead a life of shame by the conduct of those who should try and overlook their faults. Her former companions look down upon her and shrink from hef, and she seeing that she is forsaken goes on from one sin to an other until she is past reclaiming. If kind words had been spoken to her and sympa thy expressed fur her she might have been reclaimed ; but, alas! very few see that they have acted wrong until it is too late. When you know that a friend has com mitted a wrong go to her and tell her to try and do better, and keep the matter a secret to yourself'. It will be much better to act in this manner than tell it in the neighborhood and let the gossips get hold of it and peddle it all over the community. How many lives have been blighted by acting in this way we will never be able to tell, for they are legion. hundreds of women have been saved from lives of sin by kind words and helping; hands, and there are hundreds in our land today that could yet be re claimed if they were oily treated as they should be. Too many women think that when a woman commits a wrong she should not be recognized by former friends. Here is where they make their great mistake, for we are but human and liable ti fall if tempted and not on guard. Therefore, when one of our number commits a wrong act, go tc her and speak kindly ; treat her as you have done in the past, and a jewel will be added to your crown of which you may be proud. thide mildly the erring. Jeer not at their fall." ALICE HARPER 411 M . - A NEWARK girl hastened the departure of a lingering gentleman caller the other evening by remarking as she looked out of the window, "1 think we shall have a beautiful sunrise." "WHAT'S the use of trying to be hon est ?" asked a young man, the other day of a friend. "Oh : you ought to try it once and sec," was the reply. WHY is a minister near the end of his sermon like a ragged urchin ? Because he's toward his close. SUBSCRIBE for the JOURNAL How Not to Get the Local News. The other day an old and respected citi zen came into our office, and, after paying his last year's subscription, took a scat and remarked : "•I guess you needn't send me the paper any longer ; I have just subscribed for a Philadelphia paper which suits me pretty well, and it costs less than the JOURNAL." here he hands us the paper for inspec tion. We found it to be a neat looking sheet, handsomely printed, with a large, engraved head, and:containing about forty eight columns of miscellaneous reading matter. "Fair looking paper," we remarked, as we handed it back to him ; "but did you ever see anything in it concerning our county ?" "Well, I don't know as I ever have." "Anything in regard to the State ?" Ni of hing." "And yet you give up a paper that con tains the local market reports, the state of the crops, the deaths and marriages, and the thousand and one happenings from week to week which make up the history , of the region in which you are most in terested, and which you can get from no other source, and take instead a city paper, simply because it comes a little cheaper." "Yes, and it contains more reading mat ter," he added. "Certainly," we remarked, "but what is the character of the matter ? Nothing in regard to your own village—your schools, your churches, your local improvements, and the thousand and one things that hap pen in your county and support home in- stitutions. It is as foreign to you as the city in which it is published. It may con tain more reading matter, but your neigh borhood is not represented in its columns. "But why can't you furnish your paper cheaper if they can afford a much larger one in the city at a low price ? Labor is certainly cheaper here." "For the reason that a country paper has a small circulation compared with a city paper, and the labor expended upon 1,000 papers is about the same as on 5,000 ; especially when it is taken into considera tion that the city weekly which is furnished for a dollar per year is 'made up' of the type set for the daily." "That's enough," exclaimed the old gentleman, as he pulled out his wallet, "just send me the JOURNAL fur another Sear." _ - As he bade us "good morning," and passed through the sanctum door, we heard him remark : "It's my belief that a mar, who stops or refuses to subscribe to his local paper simply because it doesn't con tain as much reading matter as one 'made up' from a daily and published in the city, should be supplied with medical almanacs at the public expense." A Queer Cave Discovered A correspondent writing from Pough keepsie, N. Y., says: "On the western shore of the Hudson, nearly opposite this city, a hamlet known as Lewisburg shows prominently on the mountain-side. Near Lewisburg an old stone quarry and heavy underbrush affords .cover for a number of foxes. Two young men named Relyea, while walking through the woods, sighted a fox. and gave chase to it. §iddenly the fox disappeared and the pursuers scram bling along to the spot where it was lost sight of, diQcovered a small hole in the mountainside! A couple of stones were removed, disclosing a large flat boulder, which, after displacemeut, revealed an opening about three feet across and four feet deep. From the bottom of this an opening, large enough to admit the body of a man, extends into the mountain-side . The bed of the passage is nearly level, and the sides irregular and jagged. Owing to the darkness, nothing could be done with out a lantern. A torch was procured, but, after entering the cave a short dis tance, the light went out. A number of gentlemen from this city organized an exploring party. The explorers, after crawling six feet from the passage-way, entered a chamber nearly high enough to stand up in ; and three or four feet wide. The chamber extends a distance of twenty five or thirty feet. At one end of the cave a wall of rock stopped the further progress of the party. Through the wall is a small opening, not large enough to admit the body of a grown person. Light enough could not be obtained to discover what was beyond. A long pole stuck through failed to touch bottom, side or top. A cold draught of air comes through the fissure. The temperature averages 45 degress. The bottom of the first chamber is covered with vegetable mold, very soft and damp. When brought to the light, the substance resembles black mountain earth. The opening in the wall or parti tion is shaped like the capital A, widening at the bottom. Prescription for Fits. For a _Fit of Passion.—Walk out in the open air. You may speak your mind to the winds without hurting any one, or proclaiming yourself to be a simpleton. -Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry, for anger resteth in the bosom of fools." For a Fit of Idleness —Count the tick- ings of a clock. Do this for one hour, and you will be glad to pull off your coat the next and work like a man. "Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep, and an idle soul shall suffer hunger." For a Fit of Extravagance and Fol ly.— Go to the workhouse, or speak with the ragged and wretched inmates of a jail, and you will be convinced "Who makes his bread of brier and thorn Must be content to lie forlorn." "Wherefore do ye spend money fbr that which is not bread ? And your labor for that which satisfieth not ?" For a Frt of Ambition.—Go the church yard and read the gravestones. They will tell you the end of man at his best estate. "Fur what is your life ? It is even a vapor, which appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away." "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall " l'or a Fit if Repininy.- 7 Look about fur the halt and the blind, and visit the bed ridden, the afflicted, and the deranged ; and they will make you ashamed of com plaining of our light afflictions. "Whet e• fore doth a living man complain r For a Fit of Envy —Go and see how many who keep their carriages are afflicted with rheumatism, gout and dropsy; how many walk abroad on crutches or stay at home wrapped up in flannel; and hog► many are subject to epilepsy and apoplexy. "A sound heart is the life of t the flesh.— Envy is the rottenness of the bones." How a woman can keep on talking while she twists up her back hair and has her mouth full of hairpins is a mystery not yet explained. Yotat ICistorp. THE OLD FOOT-PRINTS OP THE RECEDING RED MAN, AND TIIE EARLY LAND-MARKS OF THE COMING if RITE M. WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO The ,Tuniata Region BY PROF. A. L. CUSS, OF HUNTINGDON, PA 'Tin good to muse on Nations paemed away Forever front the land we call our own. ARTICLE XXI THE DUTCH DISCOVER Trit DELAWARE AND RESCUE THREE MEN In the year 1598, the Dutch (not Ger mans,) began tradino- e' with the native In dians at New Amsterdam (now New York) and soon extended their posts up the II ud son river to Ft. Orange, (now Albany), where they came in contact with an inland people, whom they called Maquas or Mo hawks. Capt. Hendrickson, a Dutch nav igator and explorer, was the first white European to sail up the Delaware river and discover the Schuylkill. The States General of Holland had granted certain privileges to a number of Amsterdam mer chants, organized into a West India Trad• ing Company. On August 19, 1616, there was read, at a meeting of the Company, the report of Hendrickson, stating that he had discovered for them "certain lands, a bay and three rivers " The bay was that now known as the Delaware, and the three rivers we will name presently. He reports also that he "traded for and bought of the inhabitants, the Minquas, three persons, being people belonging to this Company; which three persons were em ployed in the service of the Mohawks and Mahicans ' • giving for them kettles, beads and merchandize." Thcre is, connected with these three men, an interesting his tory, but which seems to be but little known. DUTCH DISCOVERIES AND MAPS, The Dutch ruled in this country until 1664. They called it New Netherland. The documents accumulated during that period have been, until recently, little ac cessible to the English public. Recently not only those preserved at New York, but also many others, preserved in the Royal Archives at the llague, have been given to us in an English dress. There were two pen maps, found in the Loket Kris at the Hague, and from references made to them in certaindocuments dated October 11, 1614, and August 18, 1616, these must be the maps referred to, and yet it is difficult to tell which map is the older, It is stated in a paper of August 18, 1616, that Cornelius Hendrickson explored through "the aforesaid Countries during the space of three years," in a yacht built here for the purpose, "looking for new countries, havens, bays and rivers." It was during one of these three years that Hendrickson sailed in the Restless from New Amsterdam round New Jersey, into Delaware - Bay, and rescued the three Dutchmen at the mouth of the Schuylkill. THE EXPLOITS OF THREE DUTCHIM/N. Both the maps referred to are curiosi ties, and bear unmistakable evidence of the knowledge derived from the three Dutch. men concerning the interior. These men had ventured among the red men, leaving the Hudson at Fort Orange, and penetrat• ing the regions of the Five Nations in New York. After traversing the Iroquois country, they passed down one of the up per branches of the North Branch of the §usquehanna river, which extends into the interior of New York, and passed down that river to Wyoming in this State, where, going up the Lackawanna creek, by a land portage of four miles, they came upon the head waters of a branch of the Lehigh river, down which they pissed to the Del aware, and down the Delaware to the mouth of the Schuylkill, where llendrick son found them held as captives by the Minquas. They did not know what rivers they had been upon, but supposed the Upper Susquehanna, on which they came down, was the same stream as the Dela ware. This makes this glimpse at the first ideas of our geography very interesting. INTERIOR TRIBES NAMED. Instead of locating the Five Nations in a line westward from Fort Orange, they are scattered southward along th river. The names given them are MAQuAAs (Mo hawks—man-eaters); CANOOMAKERS (pipe makers, the Oneidas); SENNECAS (the Senecas); Gaciior (the Cayugas); CAPI TANNASSES (the head nation, the Onon dagas) It will be perceived that the rela tive position of the Senecas and Ononda gas is interchanged. This no doubt grew out of confounding the largest nation, with what they not inaptly call the head nation. The Senecas were most numerous, and the Onondagas had the chief Council House of the Confederacy. It is astonishing how long this mistake was perpetuated in the maps. One now before me, by Ogilby, in 1671, has still the same error, showing how slowly the English were to learn the geography of the interior. HOSTILE TRIBES IN PENNSYLVANIA, Some distance below the Five Nations the river ends in an unknown interior. Before reaching this point, (which must be Wyoming.) there is an Indian town with these words: .111inquaas vamle .tilaquaas Oyeltage yhenoemt : meaning, .31inquas whom the Magnus cull enemies. It is an interesting fact that we here have proof of "hostile people" south of the Five Nations at this early day. thus confirming the ac counts of Stephen Brule' ; and it is one link in the chain of evidences, that there were at that day a number of interior na tionP, among whom were our Juniatas, all of whom were subsequently obliterated by the Iroquois before they were known to white men ; and of whom so little is known, that they have been overlooked by histor ians. The existence of this hostile nation was also proven in our account of the ex ploits of Champlain and his interpreter. In this map the Delaware bay and river seem to extend westward, ending in an unknown interior some distance below the end of the other river, looking as if they might meet if extended. The general contour of the coast from Maine to Vir ginia is remarkably correct. TRIBES NAMED ON ANOTHER MAP. The other map has also a good coast line. In the interior there are two rivers in the Pennsylvania latitude, evidently in tended for the Delaware and Susquehanna which latter is unnamed, but passing up to it, we find the MINQUAAS on the west side of the river and near a branch seem ing to unite the two rivers, which in an Indian map simply means that the path way of travel led in that direction. It most probably denoted the route traveled by the three Dutchmen. Further up the river and off the river to the westward are the JOTTEi'AS-•-a name from whieb. our Chataugna is derived, and no doubt de noted a branch of the Erics. Further up on a west branch we have, as in the other map, the Cupitunasses. Further up, on a west branch, the Cachous. Further up, on another west branch, the Sennecas. North of them comes a "fresh water" lake (Ontario). North east of it, the Cana°. makers. Beyond them, and north of a stream, (Mohawk river,) are the Maquaas. East of them, on the Hudson, is Nassou, (Fort Orange,) then in going down the Hudson, on the east side, are the Mahicans and Woraneeks; and on the west side, the Waronawanka ; on the east side, Pachami, Wikagyl and Manhattes; on the west side and southward, the Tappans, Meehkento want, Sangicans, (now at Trenton Falls,) tLen below a place called Sandhoek, (now New Castle, Del.) are the Aquimachukes. Further down the Stankekans and below them the Sawwanew. YANOYDEN. THEIR LOCA2ION CORRECTED. To this map there is attached a note, which seews to have been written by Hen drickson himself, the • •anslation of which is as follows : • "Of what Kleynties and his comrade have communicated to me respecting the locality of the river and the position of the tribes, which they found in that expedition from the Maquaas into the interior, and along the New River, downwards to the Ogehage, (that is to say the enemies of the aforesaid northern tribes.) I can not at present find anything relating thereto, ex cept two rough drafts of maps, partly drawn with accuracy, and in deliberately considering how I can best reconcile this one with the rough drafts communicated, I find that the places of the tribes of Sen oecas, Gachoos, Capitanasses and Jottecas ought to be marked considerably further west into the country." ERRORS LONG PERPETUATED. Notwithstanding be was convinced, that the tribes should be located "considetably further west into the coustry," and though these pen maps were never printed, yet the map tinkers seem to have had access to them, these errors were perpetuated on maps for more than half a century. A copy of one now before me, published at Amsterdam in 1656, by John Jansson, J. Visscher, delineator, makes the river on which the Five Nations dwell, empty into the Delaware bay, that is, it makes the North branch of the Susquehanna and the Delaware constitute one river; and still interchanges the positions of the Senecas and Capitanasses. PLACES NAMED DERERMINED. The reader will notice also that the note on this map declares the "Ogehage" were enemies of the Five Nations. Their posi tion was at Sugar Creek, above Towanda, and the Ninqua town next below was pro bably at Nyomiog. The map, made In dian fashion, draws the connecting route between the Susquehanna and the Lehigh, as a continuous stream. The three rivers, which llendriekson says be discovered were the Susquehanna, (the New River,) the Lehigh and the Delaware, or possibly counting the first two as one, he included the Schuylkill as one of the three. MATERIALS OF LATER HISTORY, From the days of Hendrickson, 1614, to 1638, the Delaware bay and river were visited by trading vessels of several nations, but no permanent settlements were made. In the latter year the Swedes made settle ments at Wilmington, Del., and at several points up the river in this State. After seventeen years the Dutch, who all the time claimed the Delaware as part of New Netherland, supeiceded the Swedes in the government; and in 1664, the English conquered the Dutch, and ruled after this time on the Delaware, as well aS at New York. In 162 Wm. Penn arrived and assumed eantrol of the Government. The reader will please bear these dates in mind, as we design presently to quote from the documents, letters and books which were written during those days. ABOUT THE MINQUAS AND MAQUAS. From the days when Hendrickson res cued the three Dutchmen, who had gone among the Mlquas of New York, and were captured by the Minquas on the Sus quehanna. and taken to the mouth of the Schuylkill, we have, especially in the doc uments of the Dutch, frequent reference to these Maquas and Minquas. We have already spoken of the Maquas, but as they figure so conspicuously in Indian history, some further inquiry into the terms used, and the people to whom these news were applied, will here be appropriate. ORIGIN OF THE WORD MOHAWK The Mohawks were the most eastern of the Iroquois, and hence they were first met with, and all the Five Nations were sometimes called Maquas, and sometimes the Five Mohawk Nations. La Hontan calls them Agnies. They seem to have called themselves Caningoes or Ganyingoes Caninyingoeg. As they had no in in their language, the term Maquas, as uses by the Dutch, was probably derived from the name given them by the river Indians called Mohegans ; and the variation, Mo hawk, probably is derived from a Pequot term, as modified by the New Englanders. Dr. J. Mather says it is derived from Mau quawogs, meaning man-eaters. Roger Wil liams derives it from iloho, to eat. The word gives us the idea that they were an ciently charged with being cannibals. The Delawares called them, and their allied tribes Merryrrr, and also charged, according to Ilacileivelder, that they had often eaten human fiesh. Some New England writers call them Mohogs and Moohois, Moohays and Mohneks. A Dutch map of 1665 calls them Jluckwaas. A French map of 1758 calls them .111ohars. William Penn wrote it Jlatckurrkcs in 1783. By the Dutch, who came in contact with them at Fort Orange, whieh they built at Albany in 1624, generally called them Mayuus. This spelling was generally adgpted by the Swedes who settled on the Delaware in 1638, and by the Dutch, who superceded them iu 1655, and by the English who took possession in 1664, and was occasion ally used after Wm. Penn came in 1682. Other forms of the word arc Maquacs, Mawquas, Mogul, Moquas, Maquaas, Mo haques, and many others, all of which prove the great changes which our Indian names have undergone before they reached an established orthography. Its final form, Mohawk, still adheres to their ricer in New York. The name they called them selves by was Ga ne-a ga o-na or Ga ne ga ha-ga-o na, which meant the People who possess Flint, or the Fire Stone People. This flint stone may have been the totem of the nation, like the Oneida Stone was to their adjoining brethren, or as the Standing Stone was of the Juniata, or it may have had reference to the fire striking flint used in the muskets, and appropriated to themselves, because they were :the first natives of the forest who were so happy as to be armed with the fire stone. (To be continued.) NO. 36
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers