VOL. 44. The Huntingdon Journal. Office in new JouaNAL Building, Fifth Street. TIES LIUNTINGIDON JOURNAL is published every Friday by J. A. Naze, at $2,00 per annum IN ADVANCE, or 1210 if not paid for In six months from date of sub scription, and fp if not paid within the year. No paper discontinned,nnless at the option of the pub lisher, until all arrearages are paid. No paper, however, will be sent out of the State unless absolutely paid for in advance. Transient advertisements will be inserted at vwva.vz AND A-HALP agars per line for the first insertion, SEVEN AND a-naLs mums for the second and nets =me per line for all subsequent insertions. Regular quarterly and yearly business advertisements well be inserted at the following rates : 13m 18m 19m llyr 1 l3 m 18m 19m lyr , 'ln $35014 50 550 800 rool \ 900 18 00 $27 $36 2 " 5 001 800 10 00112 00 wl 18 00 36 00 50 65 O 3 7 00 , 10 00 14 0018 00 4 001 34 00 50 00 66 80 8 00114 00 18 0020 00 1 not 36 00 60 00 80 100 4 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 van carers per line. Legal and other notices will be charged to the party baying them inserted. Advertising Agents must find their commission outside of these figures. All advertising accounts are due and collectable when the advertiscaent is once inserted. JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch. Hand-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, kc., of every variety and style, printed at the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing line will be executed in the most artistic manner and at the lowest rates. Professional Cards. DCALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street. . Mice formerly occupied by Meesrs. Woods & Wil liamson. [apl2,'7l DA.B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the cumm u nity. °thee, No. 623 IV i.shington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. Lian4,ll DR. HYSKILL has permanently located in Alexandria to practice his profession. [janA 18-ly. V C. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leister's E building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E. J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. Lapl2B, '76. fIRO. B. ORLADY, Attorney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street, 1.1 Huntingdon, Pa. Ln0v17,'75 GL. 8088, Dentist, o ffi ce in S. T. Brown's new building, li. No. b2O, Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [spill' HC. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No.—, Penn • Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l T SYLVAN US I3L/dli, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, el . Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd Street. Linn4,'7l T W. MATTERN, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldier& claitne against the Government for back-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of fice on Penn Street. Ljan4,"7l LORAINE ASHMAN, Attorney-at Law. Office: No. 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. July 18, 1879. VS. GEISSINGEB., Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, U. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [febs,'7l E. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., S oftice in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt and eareful attention given to all legal business. [augs,'74-6mos WM. P. & R. A. ORBISON, Attorneys-at-Law, No. 321 TV Penn Sweet, Huntingdon, Pa. All kinds of legal business promptly attended to. Sept.l2,'7B. New Advertisement. BEAUTIFY YOUR H. 0 M E S T. The undersigned is prepared to do all kinds of HOUSE 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 3. 10 I) E RAT E. Orders may be left at the JOURNAL Book Store. JOHN L. ROHLAND. March 14th, 1879-tf. CHEAP ! CHEAP ! ! CHEAP !! PAPERS. N. , ' FLUIDS. N-JALBUMS. Buy your Paper, Buy your Stationery Buy your Blank Books, AT TIIEJOCRNAL BOOK cE STATIONERY STORE. Fine Stationery, School Stationery, Books for Children, Games for Children, Elegant Fluids, Pocket Book, Pass Books, And an Endless Variety of Nice Things, AT THEJOCRNAL BOOK cf STATIONERY STORE TO $6OOO A YEAR, or $5 to $2O a day in your own locality. No risk. Women do as well as men. Many make inure than the amount stated above. No one can fail to make money fast. Any one can do the work. You can make frem _ 50 cts. to $2 an hour by devoting you evenings and spare time to the business. It costs nothing to try the business. Nothing like it for money making ever offered before. Business pleasant and strictly hon orable. Reader if you want to know all about the best paying business before the public, send us your address and we will send you full particulars and private terms free; samples worth $5 also free; you can then makeup your mind for yourself. Address GEORGE STINSON & CO., Portland, Maine. June 8,1879-Iy. $l5OO C. F. YORK & COl 7 WHOLESALE AND RETAIL C÷RiO 0 MIR'S, Next door the Post Office, Huntingdon, Pa. Our Motto : The Best Goods at the Lowest Prices. March 14th, 1879-Iyr. DR. J. J. DAHLEN, GERMAN PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Office at the Washington House, corner of Seventh and Penn streets, HUNTINGDON, PA. April 4, 1879 DR. C. H. BOYER. SURGEON DENTIST, Office in the Franklin House, Apr.4-y. HITNTINGDON, PA R. M'DIVITT. SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER, CHURCH ST., bet. Third and Fourth, 0ct.17/78. HUNTINGDON, PA. JOHN S. LYTLE. SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER SPRUCE CREEK, Huntingdon county Pa, May9,1879-Iy. COME TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE FOR YOUR JOB PRINTING If you wa a sale bille, If you want bill heads, If you want letter heads, If you want visiting cards, If you want business cards, If you want blanks of any kind, If yeu want envelopesneatly printed, If you want anything printed in a workman ike manner, and at very reasonable rates, leave yourorders at the above named office. $ A WEEK in your own town, and no capital risked. o You can givethe business trial without expense. l best op),rtvnityevA rifor h ose willing to,i l try nothing else until you see for yourself what you can do at the business we offer. No . . room to explain here. You can devote all your time or only your spare time to the business, and make great pay for eveor hour that you work. Worsen make as ranch an men. Send for special private terms and particulars which we mail free. $6 Outfit free. Don't complain of hard times whi!e you have such a chance. Address H. HALLETT A CO., Portland, Maine. June 6, 187e-ly. TOYFUL News for Boys and Girls!'. i t) Young and Old ! ! A NEW IN !VENTION just patented for then., for Home use ! • Pret and Scroll Sawing, Turning, Boring, Drilling,Grinding, Polishing, Screw Cutting. Price ( 1 5 to VA Send 6 cents for IGO pages. EPHRAIM BROWN, Lowell, M...ss. Sept. 5, 1879-eow-lyr. h untingdon o Printing. The Huntingdon Journal, PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, -IN THE NEW JOURNAL BUILDING, No. 212, FIFTH STREET, HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, TERMS $2.00 per annum. in advance; $2.50 within six months, and $3.00 if not paid within the year 0 0 0 0 000 0 0 0 00000000 PROG RESSIVE 0 REPUBLICAN PAPER. 0 00000000 SUBSCRIBE. 00000000 0 0 0 0 0 0 o 0 uglool; TO ADVERTISERS: Circulation 1800. FIRST-CLASS ADVERTISING MEDIUM 5000 RENDERS WEEKLY. The JOURNAL is one of the best printed papers in the Juniata Valley, and is read by the best citizens in the It finds its way into 1800 county. homes weekly, and is read by at least 5000 persons, thus making it the BEST advertising medium in Central Pennsyl- vania. Those who patronize its columns are sure of getting a rich return for their investment. Advertisements, both local and foreign, solicited, and inserted at reasonable rates. Give us an order. ggUligg JOB DEPARTMENT N• • f. q. • ta. Cb =1". to , • - COLOR PRINTING A SPECIALTY. L-- stir All letters should be addressed to J A NASII Huntingdon, Pa. Riusts' (trWtr. An Old Methodist's Testimony. I praise the Lord, my Christian friends, that I am with you Stilt, Thou.-11 stantlin' like an old log house upon a west side hill: The music has gone out, you know; the timbers have d,eay e.l; But f:unshine on em's just as warm as when they first was laid. Almost a hundrei years have passed since I was horn, and then 'Twas only fifteen further on, and I was born again. I've seen the forest melt away ; nice houses have been reared: The world has quite outstripped the church, and I'm very much &feared. Th?y tiqe,l to tell a methodist as far as eye could sean— No gewgaws on a woman thEn, no dickey on a man— But now our congregations are so much by fashion They look just like a rainbow wrecked upon a posy bed. The circuit riders of them days were not so fine and grand; They took d,grees a haulin' logs and clearin' up the land; But when one of 'em ruse to preach, I tell you we could smell The fragrant flowers of heaven, and the stifling smoke of hell. 00000000 We bid an "amen corner," too, beside the pulpit stairs, And whim he raised his sermon-bents, we lifted with our prayers; We threw in many a loud "Thank God!" and weren't obliged to go, To give the Lord the glory, to a class room down below. The grand old quart'ly-meetin's were to all the brethren dear, Just like four green oases in the desert of the year; The people flocked from miles around; my wife would take a score, And after supper they would pray, and sleep upon the floor. I know the world's a niovin' on, as Galileo said, For now I rent a cushioned pew to hoar an essay read ; But when through stained-glass windows the sun throws blue and gold, I can not help a-thinkin' bow the glory shone of old. They call me an "old fossil," and a "relic of the past," A "fogy" and a "croaker," too; but this won't always last; I tread a tremblin' isthmus where two seas of glory roll, And soon the past and future bliss will swallow up the soul. And when I reach fair Canaan, the Lord will doubtless see That mansions in the city will not do for such as me• So lie will let me go among the old fashioned saints, I think. And praise him neath the trees of life upon the river's brink. tort-Etlitr. THE TERRIBLE TRAGEDY. A burst of sacred music from the care fully-trained choir rolled up through the arches of the magnificent church where fashion in many guises held sway. Just as the hymn was about closing, a figure en tered through one of the small rear doors, hardly a fit person to mingle with the "quality" all about her, you would have said. A coarse, highly-colored shawl was wrapped about a petite and shrinking form; a piquant hat, lined with faded blue, crowned a head of curly, golden hair.— Though her garb was coarse, it seemed to set off the wonderful beauty of her face— the characterizing feature of which was a pair of large, blue eyes, which seemed to appeal and pray to whomsoever they gazed upon. A dry, hacking cough shook her shivering form every now and then. As she took her seat in the pew, no prayer was murmured from her lips. Her whole attention, immediately on entering that church, was directed to watching a couple directly in front of her—a dark man who would have been strikingly handsome bad it not been for the wolfish glare in his black eyes and the sensual turn of his mouch—a woman who, rather overdressed, was nevertheless a fashionable beauty in the highest sense of the term. As the poor girl in the back pew looked with her great glittering orbs at the man as he beat toward the lovely lady at his side, it was easy to be seen that something more than common animated her in rela tion to him; the agony, jealousy, rage, de pitted on her countenance, and the tear drop in her eyes, told a tale of wrong and woe. The service was over, and amid a grand swell of solemn music from the great or. gan, the fashion devotees filed forth from the temple of worship. The poor girl was not seen by the man as he passed her pew; he was bending low over the grand lady with him. As soon as they were past, the girl came forth from her pew and crept out imme diately behind him. It was a dark, December night ; large drops of rain were pattering down on the flag stones about the church steps. The lady and gentleman evidently expected a carriage, for they stood in the vesti bule some moments before entering the street. r... • .T 7 S ft 0 0 I.: - ▪ tv 0 At last be sztid: "I am afraid we will have to walk." She linked her arm in his, and, raising his umbrella, they started forth. The poor girl crept on behind them— slinking into the shadows cast by the street lamps whenever possible. Square after square was passed, and still the small, shrinking figure was there, ai ways in the same relative position. Once, as she crept under a street lamp. he looked back and seemed to recognize her—for he started and muttered something to him self. r t 0 U; P E The lady with him looked back several times, and at last said : "Howard, I am sure that woman behind us is following our footsteps ; she has been lidlowing us since we started from the church." ~ i :~ ~m ii , 7' , o ci.. 1 "Oh, no, I think not," he answered, striving to speak carelessly. Another square was passed and still the girl was ther , . Again the lady turned and said to her escort : "I am sure she is following us." The man muttered some unintelligible reply, and nervously quickened his pace. It was but a short time ere they reached their destination. He rang the bell of a brown stone mansion. Thp doer bad just closed ou him when be issued forth alune. BY PHIL .1. BULL. HUNTINGDON, PA:, FRIDAY, MARCH 12, 1880. The poor girl was leaning against a tree in the shadow, on the opposite side of the way. He evidently saw her, but took no notice, and walked quickly down the street. She followed. When he came to a cross ing he came to the side of the street sbe was on, just a few paces in front of her. He turned down a side street, and soon slackened his pace and waited for the girl to come up with him. She was within a few paces of him, when he stopped short, put a cigar in his mouth, and struck a m uch against the side of a dark factory building standing there, and then, just as she came up to him, he turned and cast the lighted match in her face. It was the action of a brute; but the laugh which accompanied it was that of a human fiend—such a harsh, fiendish enjoyment was mingled with it. The girl shrunk back but uttered no sound. "So you jade, this is the reward for all my kindness !" he hissed forth. "After I furnished you with a good home. every thing any girl could wish, I find you dog ging me around in this fashion. A pretty return for my magnanimity and affec Lion." Still the girl, leaning against a tree, ut tered no sound, save a few low spoken words. Howard, are you not my husband ? Do you think you have killed all the wom an in me, all that is human, that I should hear your marriage with that lady you were walking with discussed, and not feel for her, for you, for myself, a shame at what may be in store for us ?" "How often shall I have to inform you that our marriage was a mere farce, gotten up for the occasion ?" "So you have said before; but I believe that, before the Great Judge of all, we are man and wife." "Why don't you say it again ?-=why don't you say it again ?" he returned, in a voice of suppressed passion, while his woldsh eyes glared with rage. "Come home with me !" he cried, grasping her by the arm. The girl made no reply, but followed him quietly. They turned up another side street, and were soon lost to view in the depths of the great city. It was to be the great wedding of the year—Howard S. Ranson to Miss Minnie Ford. It was to be in church in the eve ning. Only a few select guests were to be present at the ceremony, though there was to be a great reception at Mr. Ford's afterward. Every one was discussing the strangeness of having a ceremony in the evening, in church, and only a few guests present, but such was the wish of the bride, and her betrothed seemed very will ing to consent to it. The music of the noble organ was again pealing through the arches of the church. Only a few candles were lit about the chancel—the rest of the church was in darkness. It was the wish of the bride, who was not accustomed to have anything denied her. It was a lovely sight to see the ladies, in their snowy dresses, marching up the aisle with the ghostly shadows of the great church thrown upon them. Not a dozen in all, including the gentlemen—yet a striking sight in the noble edifice. The little assembly was soon grouped about the chancel rail ; and the deep, grave voice of the aged minister was heard resounding through the empty church, and echoing through the wide range of deserted seats : "Into this holy estate these two persons present COl .13C now to be joined. If any man can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter hold his peace !" His words had scarce ceased to resound through the empty church, when a white• robed figure, heretofore unseen, rose from a pew, mid way back, stretched her arms imploringly to heaven, like some suppli elting angel, and said, in a voice heard distinctly through the echoing church . "I am his wife ! I am his wi—" The blood gushed from her lips, and she fell forwar 1 across the pew—dead ! It is an intensely cold night in January ; snow lies on the ground ; the carriage wheels grinding over it sing a slow music of their own. The night express is flying over the frozen rails. • Who is this sitting in the seat in the corner ? Howard Ransom ! That man there ! how a few hours have changed him! He throws up the window and leans far out into the night. Faster and faster flies the iron steed over the cold steel rails. Faster and faster—on, still on, with thunder and crash—yet never fast enough to deaden the heart pangs of the wretched man who see his past misdeeds rise up before him as he had never seen thew till now. He at last closes the window and falls asleep in his seat. But not to rest. Like some dark phantasmagoria of the past, his crimes pass in vivid array before his ex cited mental vision One can see from the clutching of his hands and the twitch ing of the muscles of his face the agony he is suffering. Hours have passed. Still grind, grind, grind ; still on, on flies the through ex press. The man is awake again. He throws up the window. It is almost morning. A faint light appears far off on the horizin. Day is about breaking:. The deathly cold breezes fan his fevered brow, and play wildly with his locks of curly black hair. But be does not seem to feel it ; yet he is trembling like a leaf. Sitting there in the cool gloaming of the breaking morn, let us hope he feels the coming events, and is thinking of the days of early youth,• when his soul was white and guiltless The train at last slows up. Ile goes to the platform to disembark. "Look out, sir !" cries the brakeman, warningly. It is too late. One wild shriek from the passing express, and a man is twisted and ground to atoms beneath the cruel wheels. A gray haired woman is gazing from the porch of a beautiful country house down across a wide, sloping lawn, to where the sunset glows iu crimson splendor.— Minnie Ford is an old woman, who has never recovered entirely from the excite ment of her early years. Yet her lite is not entirely unblessed. Her nieces and nephews neither think her sedate nor thoughtless, and every one looks to Aunt Minnie as the one to seek when in trouble of any kind. Only those of riper years know of the terrible tragedy which defaced her 3oung and glowing life. cittt Visttliang. JAMES G. BLAINE. "That Leader of Leaders." SPEECH OF ROBERT G. INGERSOLL, OF IL LINOIS, IN TIIE REPUBLICAN CONVEN TION OF 1876. The Ropublieans of the United States demand as their leader in the great contest of 1876 a man of intelligence, a man of integrity, a man of well known and ap proved political opinions. They demand a statesman. They demand a refbrmer after, as well as before the election. The de mand a politician in the highest, broadest, and best sense—a man of superb moral courage. They demand a man acquainted with public affairs, with the wants of the people, with not only the requirements of the hour, but with the demands of the fu ture. They demand a man broad enough to comprehend the relations' of this Gov ernment to the other nations of the earth. They demand a man well versed in the powers, duties, and prerogatives of each and every department of the Government. They demand a man who will sacredly preserve the financial honor of the United States; one who knows enough to know that the national debt must be paid through the prosperity of this people; one who knows enough to know that all the finan cial theories in the world cannot redeem a single dollar ; one who knows enough to know that all the money must be made, not by law, but by labor ; one who knows enough to know that the people of the United ,totes have the industry to make the money and the honor to pay it over just as fait as they make it. The Republicans of the United States demand a man who knows that prosperity and resumption, when they wine, must come together ; that when they come they will come hand in band through the gold en harvest fields ; hand in hand by the whirling spindks and the turning wheels; band in hand past the open furnace doors ; hand in hand by the flaming forges; band in hand by the chimneys filled with eager fire, greeted and grasped by the countless sons of toil. * * This money has to be (lag out of the earth. You cannot make it by passing resolutions in a political convention. The Republicans of the United States want a man who knows that this Govern went should protect every citizen at home and abroad ; who knows that any govern ment that will not defend its defenders, dad protect its protectors, is a disgrace to the map of the world. They demand a am who believes in the eternal separation rind divorcement of church and school. /hey demand a man whose political repn tliti,)n is spotless as a star ; but they do not demand that their candidate shall have a certificate of model character signed by a Confederate congresl. The man who has, is tun, heaped, and rounded measure, ail fhcise sph:ndid gnalitleations, is the present grand and gallant leader of the Republi can party—James G. Blaine. Oar country, crowned with the vast and marvellous achievements of its first cen tury, asks for a man worthy of the past and prephetic of her future; asks for a man who has the audacity of genius ; asks tor a man who has the grandest combing tion of heart, conscience and brain be neath her flag—such a man is James G. Blaine. For the Republican host, led by this intrepid man, there can be no defect. This is a grand year—a year filled with the recollections of the Revolution ; filled with proud and tender memories of the past ; with the sacred legends of liberty— a year in which the slits of freedom will drink from the fountains of enthusiasm— a year in which the people call for a man who has preserved in Congress what our s , ildiers won upon the field—a year in which they call for a man who has torn fr,•m the throat of 14 - Ander; for the man who has snatched the mask of Democracy from the hideous face of rebellion ; fur the man who, like an intellectual athlete, has stood in the arena of debate and challeng. ed all comers, and who is stilt a total stranger to defeat. Like an armed warrior, like a plumed knight, James G. Rhine marched down the halls of the American Congress and threw his shining lance full and fair against the brazen foreheads of the defamers of his country and the malignurs of his honor For the Republican party to desert this gallant leader now is as though an army should desert their general upon the field of battle. G Blaine is now, and has been for years, the bearer of the sacred stand ard of the Republican party I call it sacred, because no human being can stand beneath its folds without becoming and without remaining free. Gentlemen of the Convention : In the name of the great Republic, the only Re. public that ever existed on this earth; in the name of all her defenders and of all her supporters ; in the name of all her soldiers living; in the name of all her sol diers dead upon the field of battle, and in the name of those who perished in the skeleton clutch of famine at Andenonville and Libby, whose sufferings he so vividly remembers. Illinois—lllinois nominates for the next President of this country that prince of parliamentarians, that leader of leaders. James G. Blaine. More Uses of the Lemon. We have already given many uses of the lemon; here are more : Lemonade is one of the best and safest drinks for any per son, whether in health or not. It is suit able to all stomachic diseases, is excellent iu sickness—in eatiks of jaundice, gravel, liver complaint , inflammation of the bow els, and fevets. It is a specific against worms and skin c , )mplaiuts. The pippins, crushed, may also be used wit water and sugar and used as a drink. Lemon juice is the best anti scrobutic remedy known. It not only cures the disease, but prevents it. Sailors make a .daily use of it for this purpose. A physician suggests rubbing of the gums daily with lemon juice to keep them in health. The hands and nails are kept clean, white, soft, and supple by the daily use of lemon instead of soap. It also prevents chilblains. Lemon is used in in tertnittent fevers mixed with strong, hot, black tea or coffee, without sugar. Neu ralgia may be cored by rubbinc , the part affected with lemon. It is valuable also to cure warts, and to destroy dandruff on the head by rubbing the roots with it. In fact its uses are manifold, and the more we employ it externally the better we shall find ourselves A WISCONSIN minister was dismissed from an othodox pulpit because he built a fire under a balky horse. Headquarters. The other day a young gentleman who has been enamored of one of the fairest daughters of West Monroe street, Chicago, but who has met with scant courtesy from her parents, suddenly hit upon the great discovery that asking a girl's father's con sent was an idle tOrnia!ity. "By Jove " he said, after thinking the matter over in all its varied avects, "its the old woman who is the power behind the throne. Once you get her on your side you are all right. and besides, you are saved from any an noyance from your mother-in law, for she can't go and say to your wife, 'if you had taken my advice," or, "I told you so." "By Jove, I'll go right for the old wn wan?' So, dressing himself in his gay at tire, the young Iran went up, and, after explaining matter to his sweetheart, in duced her to call down her mother. Her father had gone to Des Moines on busi nes. "Well, sir," said the old lady, with icy coldness, "what do you wish to soy to the ?" "I come, madam," said the heroic youth. "to demand the hand of your lovely (laugh ter in marriage ?" "Demand a fiddlestick !" said the old lady, with asperity ; "Amanda is too young to be married yet, and if she wasn't and there wasn't but one husband in the world, and you were he, I would say "Na aw !" Do you understand that ?" • "In a measure I apprehend your mean ing," said the young lover, while Amanda, who was listening behind the folding doors, whispered to herself that ma was real mean, and felt her heart sink into her slippers; "and I was prepared for it. I had already seen your husband." "You had, eh ! Do you mean to say that that chuckle headed clam had con sented-?" "No, madame, not precisely. In fact he said he would be—a hemmed first. But as in such matters as these it is always best to deal with the principals, I thought I would see you, although your husband said "No," and gut his foot down, that was an end to matters in his house. I wanted to be allowed to plead my case before you, because the sympathies of a beautiful, clever woman still young in heart as she is in looks—but alas! he told me it would do no good—that you was prejudiced against me, and if you favored my suit your humblest solicitation could not move him." "When did my husband tell You all this? Was he sober—quite sober ? lie put his foot down indeed !" "About noon on Tuesday, and never seen him more collected and rational. He was unusually mild and pensive, and when I told him of my desire to be married, he said, "better not, if you know what's good for you—don't. I dare say my daughter is very handsome, and all that kind of thing, but she takes after he. mother I really doing you a kindness in refusing tuy consent." "The snub nosed traitor I" said the old lady, warmly ; "well, now, I want you to understand one thing ; I am the pazriarch of this household, and when my husband leaves me out of the calculation it is equiv alent to the omission of the sabt.rahend, &nominator, qutier.t, divisor, multiplier and the one you carry. You understand me ?" "Yes'ni, but your husband doesn't think so." "Well, when he gets back I'll just put in sowe of my humblest solicitation—l believe that is what he calls them—and he'll understand me: And I'll prove it to you, too. Amanda, come here. This is your future husband, and, if I know my self, you will be married to him inside of three weeks Just make a list of the things you want, and I'll see that you get them Young man ewk'ace your betrothed bride Bless you, my children. I want this thing settled once for ail." It was almost to good to be true, and the lovers had to hug each other several times during the evening (which they spent on the same chair) to be sure it was not all a dreaui. Nevertheless the fair Amanda felt several qualms and fears when she thought of her stern father's return, and the possibility that the game would be up then But it wasn't. The o;d man got back home from Des Haines late on Thursday night. He shpt on the sofa, and looked visibly older at breakfast the next morning, having a startled expres,ion in his eyes. When the meal was concluded he took his daughter aside and asked her if she was really sure she loved the young man and when sho replied that he could gamble on it (or words to that effect), he could no longer withhold his consent—her happiness was more to him than the spec tacle of vindicated authority. "Oh, pa, how good and kind you are I" sobbed the beautiful girl, falling upon his neck. "Amanda, my 10ve.," said the author of her being, "that't all right, and I do not bear your lover any malice, but I don't want you, my dear girl, to think that your pa is a three ply, double and twist liar, for I never said anything of the sort. But it would do me no good to ueny it ; no not if' I sued him for perjury, and the jurors brought in a verdict of guilty with out leaving the box " His Last Dollar. Recently a stranger might have been noticed standing in the rear of the Mint, in Carson, watching an old woman pick up sticks. She west have been about eighty years of age. Iler old calico dress was fall of holes, her face was as wrinkled as tripe and as brown as leather. Every time she stooped to pick up a stick she was obliged to do so w'th painful effort She raked over the dry leaves with palsied hands, and all the w,a-thless little trinkets went into her basket. A heap of garbage and ashes occupied her attention for some ten minutes. The man who was watching her finally walked up behind her, dropped a dollar into her basket and then stole softly away unnoticed. An attache of the 'Mint, who was near, hailed him as he passed. "I say, did you give a dollar to that old lady ?" "Yes, indeed, although it was about the last I had I cAn't bear to see poverty and old age combined. I had a mother once almost as old as her and as weak and palsied. I feel for an old wo man like that. and by thunder she can have a dollar from mo if its the last I've got." "Do von see that block over there ?" "Yes." "With houses on it ?'"-Yes " wihe houses and lot. belong to her" "No!" This was all the stranger had to offer as he turned away and walked rapidly up Car. son street. It was his last dollar. A LITTLE girl, reading the "History of England" with her mother, and coming to the statement that Henry I, never laugh ed after the death of his son, looked up and said : '‘What did he do when he was tickled ?" Poems of the Week. SUNDAY. Lie still and rest, in that serene repose That on this holy morning comes to those Who have been buried with the cares that make The sad heart weary and the tired heart ache. Lie still and rest— God's day of all is best. MONDAY Awake ! arise! Cast off thy drowsy dreams ! Red in the east, behold the morning gleams. "As onday goes, so goes the week," dames say. Refreshed, relieved, use well the initial day; And see ! thy neighbor Already seeks his labor. TUESDAY. Another morning's banners are unfurled— Another day looks smiling on the world; It beholds new laurels for thy soul to win; Mar not its grace by slothfulness or sin, Nor sad, away Send it to yesterday. WEDNESDAY half-way unto the end—the week's high noon. The morning hours do speed away so soon' And when the noon is reached, however bright, Instinctively we look toward the night. The glow is lost Once the meridian croft. THURSDAY. So well the week hag sped, haat thou a friend Go spend an hour in converse. It will lend New beauty to thy labors and thy life To pause a little sometimes in the strife. Toil soon seems rule That has no interlude, FRIDAY, From feasts abstain ; he temperate, and pray : Fist if thou wilt; and yet, throughout the day, Neglect no labor and no duty shirk; For many hours aro left thee for thy work— And it were meet Till all should be complete. SATURDAY, Now with the almost finished task make haste; So near the night, thou hast no time to waste. Post up accounts, and lot thy soul's eyes look For flaws and errors in life's ledger-book. When labars cease, How sweet the sense of peace ! —Ella Wheeler, in Chicago Tribune, A Scrap of History. The death of Zach Chandler constrained a writer to give a very interesting chapter of heretofore hidden history. The writer says : "I happened to be in Washington when the first Bull Run battle was fought. and when the Northern troops, routed and disorganized rushed co the capital. Ail was dismay and confusion, and I have not a shadow of doubt but, had Beauregard pursued, he could have captured Wash ington. Well, during the time of con sternation, while walking on the avenue, whom should I meet but Senator Zach Chandler We had for twenty years been warm personal friends, though antagonistic politically. Chandler was intensely excited ;At the defeat of the Union forces, and, like Uncle Toby's army, swore terribly. 'By G—d,' said he, 'let's go right up. and see Lincoln. Something has got to be done ur the country's gone to 11-1 Come right along.' I a.seuted to his suggestion, and in five minutes we were in the White House. Chandler stood upon no formali ties, and quickly we were in the Blue Room, where we found Mr. and Mrs. Lin coin. The former had been weeping, his eyes were red and swollen, and he was walking up and down the apartment with rapid strides. Turning upon us the MO - went -l ive entered the room, and recogniz ing the Senator, be advanced and bell out his hand, exclaiming, 'My God, Chandler, I'm glad to see you! Oh, we arc ruined I ruined I What shall be done ?"Done ?' and walking up to the desk where lay pen, ink and paper, 'Write out your proclama tion at once, immediately calling out three million men. It will give confidence to the Nation. If you don't, we will all be in anarchy before a week." Lincoln ex postulated,•and said he had not yet had a Cabinet meeting on the subject; that it would meet that evening, etc. But Chand ler was inexorable, and spoke up still more excitedly : Presi&nt, 1 want the proclamation immediately ; not a moment should be lost Come, draw it up now— right away, and I will take it to the As sociateu Press office, and I to that of a Washington newspaper Now, I often ask myself what would have happened to tit:• country if Chandler had not visited Lin coln that afternoon.--Cincinnati Enquirer. "Girls" and "Young Ladies." Benjamin F. Taylor, the poet, has writ ten a letter to a young girl at the Low villa (N Y) Academy, in which he mixes up poetry and good advice in equal doses most charmingly. What Mr. Taylor says will bear repetition : I call you a girl, but it is not the fashion any more. The girls are gone, and there i. nobody left but young ladies. I like girls best There used to be a flock of Carolines in Lowville, and as fair a flock as ever wore muslin. There were Caro line Collins, Caroline Northrup, Caroline Davan, and ever so many more. There were Coruelias, Janes, lilizabeths, Marys and Paulines. They were all girls, and they never scorned the title Now they would be Carries, Nellies, Lizzies, Marries, Jennies and Comics, and young ladies with all, every daughter of them. Let us not end our names in "ie." Let us not forget that affectation is the art of being a fool by rule. Let us learn to work worsted cats of impossible pink, if we must, but let us know how to make Indian pud ding and a golden loaf of corn bread as well. Let us talk French, if we can, but let us avoid "slang" as we would pestilence and famine. Pure and undefiled English never sounds so musically as it does from the unadulterated lips of a genuine girl. Let us learn the exquisite art of keeping young You read of Roman ruins. I think I have heard Tyre, Tadmor and Thebes mentioned once or twice, but there is nothing so ancient in all the world as the old dilapidated heart. It is every body's duty, especially every girl's to keep young. A Shoeblack's Sermon. A 'little shoebhick called at the residence of a clergyman of this city and solicited a piece of bread and some water. The ser vant was directed to give the child bread from the crumb basket, and as the little fellow was walking slowly away and shift ing the gift between his fingers for a piece large enough to chew, the minister called him back and asked him if he had ever learned to pray. On receiving a negative answer he directed him to say, "Our fa .ther," but he could not answer the fami liarity. "Is it our father—your father— my father ?" "Why, certainly !" The boy looked at him for awhile and com menced crying, and at the-same time hold ing up his crust of bread, and exclaiming braween his sobs : "You say that your father is my father, aren't you ashamed to give your little brother such stuff to eat when you have got so many good things for yourself?"—Xew Orleans Democrat. SUBSCRIBE for tile JOVIXAL. Curiosities of the Conscience Fund. At irregular intervals, says the Wash ington Star, a paragraph appears announc• ing the receipt by the Treasury Depart ment of a contribution to the "conscience fund "These contributions now•a days vary from one dollar to between one and two hundred. A few years ago they were much larger. The money comes from all parts of the country, Philadelphia and New York leading in the number of contributions. A member of Congress from New York, when Mr. Bristow was in the Treasury, referring to this fact, remarked that it showed con clusively that New York and Pennsylva nia were the most religious states in the Union Mr. Bristow replied that in his opinion it only showed that these two States had dune the most stealing The money that comes in from conscience stricken people is on account of frauds on the ens toms, frauds under the old income tax law, or on the revenue The income tax hav ing been abolished some years ago, con tributions on its account are very few now. The first record of money received by the government from repentance defraud. ers was in 1863. When General Spinner was treasurer he kept the account separate. ly, but the practice was discontinued. The money now, as it has been for the greater number of years since 1863, when the con tributions began, is turned into the Treas ury as miscellaneous receipts. Repeated attempts have been made by membeis of Congress to secure appropriations to be paid out of the conscience fund. If the money goes into the Treasury as miscella neous receipts, it ceases to be a separate fund, and cannot be drawn upon. It is not known how much the conscience mon ey now amounts to. The total amount from December 1, 1863, to June 30, 1874, as given in the Treasurer's report for the latter year was $162,914. Since then no account of the contributions has been kept. Treasurer Gilfillan, however, estimates that the money now foots up $250,000. The contributions, as a rule, come by mail with a note saying for what purpree the money is forwarded. Very frequently a penitential explanation is included. Some of these explanations are very curious and some very laughable. The ladies contrib ute a good deal. They repent principally ever false returns made under the income tax and for having evaded the duties upon articles of dress. A lady visited this country in 1864 from England. She smuggled in while here a silk dress pattern. A short time ago she wrote confessing the evasion of custom duties and sending $l5 to clear her conscience. She gave the value of the dress, and wanted the balance sent back to her if the duties did not amount to $l5. The custom division of the Treasury made a computation based upon the duties charg ed in 1864, and found that the lady owed exactly $7.50. The balance was remitted. Ministers of the gospel are very frequent ly the medium through which the money is refunded. While administering spirit. ual consolation, the confession of defraud ing the government is made, and a resti tution follows. The clergy transmit the money without mentioning names. The largest amount ever received at one con tribution was $15,000 in United Sates 7.30 notes This contribution was announced in the newspapers. Many and ingenious attempts were made to get this money out of the Treasury. One man said that his father made the contribution, and that he was crazy The contributor of it bad care fully cut out the numbers of the notes so as to make it impossible to discover from the books who had sent them. The Printer and His Types. Beojawan F. Taylor, the printer poet says : _ Perhaps there is no department or en terprise whose details are less understood, by intelligent people, than the "art pre servative," the achievements of the types. Every day, their life long, people are accustomed to read the newspaper and find fault with its statements, its arrangments; its looks, to plume themselves upon the discovery of some rougish acrobatic type that gets into a frolic and stands upon its head, or of some waste letter or two in it ; but of the process by which the newspaper is made, or the myriad of mills and the thousands of pieces necessary to its com position, they know little and generally think less The imagine they discourse of a wonder indeed, when they speak of the fair white carpet, woven fur thought to walk on rags that fluttered on the back of the beggar yesterday. But there is something more wonderful still. When we look at the hundred and fifty two little boxes, somewhat shaded with the touch of inky figers that compose printers "case" noiseless except the click or the type ; as one by one they take their place in the growing line- a —we think we have found the marvel of art. We think how many fancies in fragments there are in these little boxes, how many atoms of poetry and eloquence the printer can mak<• here and there, if he had only a little chart to work by ; how many facts in a small "handful," how much truth in a chaos. Now he picks up the scattered elements, until he holds in his hand a stanza of "Gray's Elegy," or a monody on "Grimes ail Buttoeed up Before." Now be sets '•Puppy Missing," and now "Paradise Lost," he arrays a bride in "Small Caps," and a sonnet in nonpareil, he announces the languishing 'live" in nne sentence— transposes the word and deplores the days that are few and "evil" in the next. A poor jest ticks its way slowly into the printer's hand, like a clock just running down, and its strain of eloquence marches into line letter by letter. We fancy we can tell the difference by hearing by the ear, but perhaps not. The types that told a wedding yester day announces a burial tomorrow—per haps the same letters. They are the elements to make a world of. Those type are a world with something in it as beautiful as spring, as rich as eum• mer and as imperishable as autumn flowers frost cannot wilt—fruit that shall ripen for all time. lIE entered a car door. When the brake man came inside and took a key out of his pocket, unlocked the stove, put in some wood, and locked the door again, he asked him what he locked the stove door for. The brakeman shut his left eye, and said he locked the door se the fire couldn't get oat. A BOY who had been taught that time is money appeared at the bank the other day, and remarked that be had an hour given him, and he would like to spend a quarter of an hour, and would take the change for the other three•quarters. NO. 11.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers