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,
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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