VOL. 44. The Huntingdon Journal Wire i;t new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street TUE iIIINTINGDON JOURNAL is published every eriday by J. A. Nam, at 112,00 per annum 174 ADVANCE, or 52.0 it not paid for in six months from date of sub .cription, and S 3 if not paid within the year. No pap., duicoutiuued , 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. Tntudientadvertiatments will be inserted at TWELVE AND A-HALF CENTS per line for the first iwertion, BEVAN AND A-11hLT CENTS for the second and Fivx CENTS per line fur all iitb,Nitent insertions. Regular ~uarterly and yearly business advertisements will be inserted at the following rates : 19m i l Yr I l3m 16m 3m 16m . . . \ lln is 3 50 ; 4 501 5 501 8 00 %coil 9 001 2 18 00187 $ 36 2" i 5 00. , 4 0.1110 00112 00 %col l lB 0036 001 50 63 3xi7 00 10 0014 00118 3, , ,c,0134 00 50 00; 6SO 4 " , s 0.,' It 00' 1 i IS On \2O 00 00 1 col 36 00160 001 RO S I 100 All Resolutions of Associations, Communications of limited or individual interest, all party announcements, and notices of Marriages and Deaths, exceeding live lines, will he charged tea 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 fit , a , leertisement is once inserted. JOB PRINTING of every kind, Plain and Fancy Colors, lone with neatness and dispatch. Hand-bills, Blanks. Cards, Pamphlets, kc., of every variety and style, printed st the shortest notice, and everything in the Printing line will be executed in the most artistic manner and at the lowest rates. Professional Cards• WILLIAM W. DORRIS, Attorney-et-Law, 402 I Penn street, Huntingdon, Pa. [inar.l6,7y. TA CALDWELL, Attomey-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd stre , q If . Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods & WU. liamsou. [&p12,'71 DR. A.B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services to the community. Office, No. 673 Washington street, one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. ijau4;7l 1111. HYSKILL has nermanently located in Akaandria to practice his profession. [jan.4 IC. STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. O ffi ce in Leister's . building, in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E. J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl2S, '76. G 0). B. ORLADV, Attorney-at , Law, 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. Ln0v17;75 GROBB, Dentist, office in S. t. Brown's new building, . No. bzO, Penn Street, Unntingdon, Pa. [api2.'7l lIC. 31 XDDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn . Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [apl9,'7l JSYLVANUS BLAIR, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, • Pa. Office, Penn Street, three doors west of 3rd Street. [jan4,'7l JW. MATTERS, Attorney-at-Law and General Claim . Agent, II untingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claims against the Government for hack-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attended to with great care and promptness. Of fice on Penn Street. Lian4,'7l T L o NE ASHMAN, Attorney-at Law. Office : No. 405 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. July 18, 1879. L - S. OEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public, . Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 230 Penn Street, oppo site Court House. [febs,ll Q E. LEM INO, Attorney-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., O. office in _Vonitor building, Penn Street. Prompt and saran' attention given to all legal business. [augs,74-6mos WM. P. & R. A. ORBISON, Attorneys-at-Law, No. 321 Penn Street, Huntingdon, Pa. AU kinds of legal business promptly attended to. Sept.l2,"7S. New Advertisement. BEAUTIFY YOUR i -- i 0 INT U. S The underi , igned is prepared to do all kinds of RUSE 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. ROHLAND. March 14th, 1879-tf. CHEAP ! CHEAP !! CHEAP ! ! PAPERS. N.-/ FLUIDS. %./ALBUMS. Buy your Paper, Buy your Stationery Buy your Blank Books, AT THEJOCILVAL BOOR & STATIONERY STOKE. Fine Stationery, School Stationery, Books for Children, Games for Children, Elegant Fluids, Pocket Book, Pass Books, And an Endless 'Variety or Nice Things, AT THEJOURNAL BOOK ef STATIONERY STORE $ TO $6OOO A YEAR, or $5 to $2O a day ii your locality.7n N o risk. Wom l doaawe; a:m.aiy make more thnth:.fle above . can fail to make money fast. Any one can do the work. Yon can make from 60 eta. to $2 an hour by devoting your evenings and spare time to the business. It costa nothing to try the bueinels. 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 make up your mind for yourself. Address GEORGE STINSON It CO., Portland, Maine. June 6,1679-Iy , STAMPING 1 Having just received a fine assortment. of Stamps from the east, I am now prepared to do Stamping for BRAIDING AND EMBROIDERING. I also do Pinking at the shortest notice. MRS. MATTIE G. GRAY, No. 415 Mifflin Street. May 3,1875. DR. J. J. DAHLEN, GERMAN PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Office at the Washington House, corner of Seventh and Penn streets, HUNTINGDON, PA April 4, 1579. DR. C. H. 130 Y ER. SURGEON DENTIST, Office in the Franklin House, HUNTINGDON, PA, Apr.4-y. M'DIVITT, SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER, CHURCH ST., bet. Third and Fourth, 0ct.17;79, COME TO THE JOURNAL OFFICE FOR YOUR JOB PRINTING. If you wea sale bills, 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 yourerders at the above named office. A WEEK in your own town, and no capital sopporis o ked. wered ithout expense: an ose wi if e e t he e;t ng to bu s in e ss rtunity ou a should tervV• 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 every hour that you work. 'Women make as tench as men. Send for special private fenny and particulars which we mail free. 11•3 Outfit free. P ,, n't c..niplain of hard times while you have such a chance. Address ff. lIALLETT & CO., Portland, Maine. June 6, 1879-Iy. 06,000 AGENTS. WANTED TO SELL 10 NEW PA- Ovne Agent made ss2.so vnxrßH in two da n ys E . another, t 32 in one d'ay. TRY IT. Will gireAgenAgent'?/ of Town Or County. Scud ti eta. for 200 pages. EPHRAIM BROWN, Lowell, Mass wept. 5, IS7lli3owulyr. I ISE C' 1 111 IiriVIIMITEII..S! 'go. i____lh _e ' l ,O (0 Ell g ‘--,,, 19m lyr ELEeTntit LTO:EF - Z 1 - IEnTtS FA7O7: 31anulitetnred bv zo; eni;rdv entire smisrletion Dealers rind Consuinors prfunninee this 11,:nr wiitti. is w;inted. Mauuractured by MACKEREL LARGE : . XTRA FANCY SHORE, EXTRA FAT SHORE, FAT FAM I LY, DEEP SEA AND MESS, in Barrels, Half and Qn,rter B.trre!s, Kitts ;rid 514. cans. We recommend the above brands as being %,:ty white and :it, and we are oloiident of their pleasing in ONONDAGO GROUND PLASTER By the car load or ton. We have s; - !enr,:il the Agency rir the sale of ONONDAGO PLASTER and are prepared to fill orders prowl); ly at nit- prices. VZ - Orders from lice Thole Soliriird. SALT! ,(7',1 , ALl ! 6 - 7 ra.'is SALT 1 LIVERPOOL, t; ROUND ALUM, COMMON, Fi D DAIRY SAIAT, by the Carload, Sack or Tht• I. THE OLIVER Is universally acknov, - io.cl working plow in the world. Having just received two carloatls 1 -, ::red to fiii tohrs promptly by railroad and c,trtl. , rt in, c 7 :: .: .' i 72 y C itßp PETS 7,--sii c i P, : 1 1 -, i .. L. - J f.d ‘ C Liz. Z 1: ex; rrfp .....,. "IA ....5.i...........• BODY BRUSSELS, TAPESTRY BRUSSELS, 3-PLY, (Extra Super,) SUPER, COTTON CHAIN, COTTAGE RAG, and HEMP CARPET we have; ever In;LI. Call and examine. FLOOR AND TABLE OIL CLOTH IN GREAT VARIETY. FOR MEN, BOVS AND CHILD lE\. at pricos that (.I.!fy competition ka-ColDa, NOTIONS BOOTS, SHOES, fra " 7-11 75 57.7 2 —• 67-7 1 7.7 11 4,-?, ‘1777 2 GRfutpk,,JilaZikTair.g.-XAE ; 41 6 i.t.dq.14:41 4:3 * . Et c., In fact everything you want fir the FAUN', SIMI', or FAMILY can be had at HENRY & CO., 732 AND 734 PENN STREET. -NEW GOODS !- Respectfully informs the public that he has just opened a large stock -of in the room lately occupied by Geo. W. Johnston & Co., corner of 9th and Washington streets, in West Huntingdon, consisting in part of 3FI. 'ISEr 41r- C3O MI. ..,e7=)"" NOTIONS, BOOTS AND SHOES, HATS AND CAPS, GROCERIES, QUEENSWARE, GLASSWARE, WOOD AND WILLOW APE CARPETS, OIL CLOTHS, and every other article usually found in first-class country stores: STAINIPING Country Produce taken in exchange for goods at highest market price. By strict attention to businei4s and an effort to please, he confidently expect a share of public patronlz,f , -. [apr23-tf. THE FINEU ONE fa the room lately 0e.:,ni) . ..0d I,Y Graffius Miller, on the south west corner of the Dia mon , t, Penn street ; has just (+cued a large assortment of DRY GOODS, NOTIONS, THEME GS, LACES , _HATS AND CAPS, BOOTS AND SHOES, QUEENS\VARE, Etc His stock of O.ROCERIES embrie,s everything in that line, and every article sold will be just as represented. His terms are STRICTLY CASH, OR ITS EQUIVALENT IN COUNTRY PRODUCE. HUNTINGDON, PA He will do his beg to please you. Go and see him, examine Lis goods, hear his prices, and you will be convinced that ROLLER'S is the place for bargains. april23 BEAUTIFUL GLASSWARE, By the piece or in seits, ; r great A . ,.rlety, has been adied to the elegant stock Stap:e FILII,y ruci2ries at F. H. LANE'S CASH & E* - CHANGE STORE. handsome netts of GLASS as low • . The place to buy QI.TEE':'SWARE by the piece or in setts, is at F. 11. LANE'S STOE I 4I. it andount. TEA SETTS con,isting of tfi pieces of White Stone Chinn, can be bought. fur t, at F. 11. LANE'S low A la.rgf: c'noice Mackerel, consissing of Deep Sea, Extra Shore, Nov Fat, aria all the best va rieties and numbers known in the market. Also Large Rue and Lake 11 erring, Cod Fish and shad in season. F. H. Lane does not boy or sell short weight inif.kages of Fish. You do riot want to buy salt at Fish price!, CANNED GOODS. including C:,lifornia, Clio7ne Fruits, Evaporated and other Dried Fruits. (;Freon fruits. Foreign and Domestic. All kinds of eboile TEAS, from 15 to 20 cents per quarter, Good tigir from 8 cents per pound to the best M! I. Suonlr in bricks or granulated at 13 coats per pound. SALT MEAT, FLOUR. NOTIONS. CONFECTIONs, wotip ;old WILLOW-WARE, and in short, about, ev e r F thing found (17-,...ry and Pravi,ion Store. can be `ought at F. II L ANE'S Casts and Exchango the chun.h. AV,;iioct,n street, Hunting don, Pa. .Ik,OTTO:-000D QUALITY—FULL QUANTITY—SMALL PROFITS. - e • • • • • re • unti .4, „it 4_ _ T fie - 17 , %-‘ LPL, ou Buy YoUR FLOUR? YOUR C Tr. nCER Gl' 0 17. L El_ 1 A Cc - P -1) c---1 0 We have just received A CARLOAD OF CHOICE MACKEREL which we offer at very low prices: gde-IVE All::: . 1 -.. GENTS FOIL TIIE CELEI3RATED-tA p,- • pi th • S 4 - is N Lave tho largest and most e)mplete line of CLOPTI I NG - -0" %wa ft r- „„„ t-i I. "GUS 3 LETTERMAN SEASONABLE GOODS, 17." Si Zs 1Z rg-iT 12.1.9 z v l e i t c Choi co zima Seasonable Gccaz, Which he is selling, away down hi price. his stock embraces MACKEREL. SPECIAL NOTICE. New Advertisements MACKEREL every particular Cl-19_1 ED PLOW 1 ~~ `-~-L to be the most. ET ,, noinienl, be-t ma..l, and best l's - otwithstandin, the great. advarce in Material we offer them at the o!d prices. THE LOWEST FREES 1 -AMAY GOODS 1.- HUNTINGDON, PA,, FRIDAY, MAY 28, 1880. arcuTUStiSt In the Twilight. 1;Y W. E. CAMERON. As we grow old, our yesterdays Seem very dim and distant; We grope, as those in darken'd ways, Through all that is existent ; Yet far-off days shine bright and clear With suns that long have faded, And faces dead seem strangely near To those that life has shaded. As we grow old our tears are few F, r friends most lately taken, But fall—as falls the summer dew From roses lightly shaken— When some chance word or idle strain, The chords of memory Pweeping, Unlock the flood-gates of our pain For those who taught us weeping. As we grow old our smiles are. rare To those who greet us daily, Or, if some living faces wear The looks that beamed so gaily From eyes long closed—and we should smile In answer to their wooing— 'Tie but the past that shines the while, Our power to smile renewing. As we grow old our dreams at night Are never of the morrow • They come with vanished p leasure bright, Or dark with olden sorrow; And when we wake the names we say Are not of any mortals, But of those in some long dead day Passed through life's sunset's portals. Ee ,storg-Etiter. THE TEST OF LOVE. The sharp ring of an axe sounded reg ularly, from the barn yard. It was weilded by a boy of thirteen, perhaps, but small for that age. His jacket was buttoned closely round him, his cap pressed down upon his curly hair; and his cheek glowed with the frosty air and the exercise. Ile had been cutting wood an hour; meanwhile, in the house had arrived a little, girl brought there by the overseer of the poor. She stood timidly at one side of the great fire, the blaze warming her chilled limbs. She hugged an old cloak tightly about her, and replied in a low voice to the kind questions asked her by the farm er's wife, Mrs. Wyllis. "Sit down on that stool," said the lady, "and put your feet up to the fire, while I bring you a box! of bread and milk Don't be bashful." The child sat down and directed her large, black eyes to the fire, and in them was the sad, wistful expressicn of an un loved childhood ; but mingled with that look was a self controlled, self reliant look which was unusual in so small a face. The face itself was dark and thin and very plain ; there appeared in it nothing to to warrant a hope of beauty in after years, though the eyes would undoubtedly always be beautiful. She took her milk in an eager way, though very daintily, and Mrs. Wyllie watched her with a kindly glance. "What is your name?" she asked. "I have forgotten, if Mr. Hinckly told me." "Marjory St. James," was the reply. "St. James. A nice sounding name. Do you remember your mother or father ?" "I remember my father." "Is he living ?" "I expect so." This answer was given in a reserved tone that would bare shown to a pene trating per Eon she did not like to be ques tioned about him, but Mrs, Wyllis was not very observing. "Have you seen him lately ?'' "I should think it was two years." Then what makes you think he is liv ing? Do you hear from him 7" "Was he a good man ?" The child clasped her hands and ex claimed, passionately : "I don't believe anybody thinks he's a good man, but, oh, I love him 1" "If he was a good man I should think he would take care of you," said Mrs. Wyllis, very kindly, but also very obtusely. "Seems to me," said a voice by the door behind Mrs. Wyllis, "if I was you, mother, I wouldn't ask her anything more about her fath e r." Marjory cast a look of thankfulness to ward the speaker, who had come in un noticed, and who was the boy who had been chopping wood. "You needn't interrupt me, Fred," said his mother. "Of course, I want to know all I can about her parents. Did you ever go to school, Marjory ?" "No. But when I was at home, when I was very small, I used to have a teacher live there." "Very small 1" exclaimed Fred "If you were smaller than you are now, you must have been a wonder." "Be quiet, Fred," said the mother se verely ; "she's as large as you are now," which was very true. Fred utterer an incredulous "Wm," and was silent. "How old are you ?'' "Thirteen." "And how long hare you been at the poor house ?" "Ever since I was nine," was the an swer. "You know how to wash dishcbi, and sweep, and such things?" "tea." "Well, I think you'll be a very good little girl ; and I'll take you up stairs to the room you'll sleep in ; then you may come down and help me." And Mrs. Wyllis led her off. Fred sat by the fire, his cap thrown off, his chin on his hand. He remained thoughtful a few minutes, then lifting his head, he said : "What did she say her name was, mother ?" "Quite a romantic name—Marjory St. James." "Who do you suppose she is. anyway ?" Marjory, softly coming along the other room, whose door was half open, hoard her name, and involuntarily paused. "I am sure I don't know," Mrs. Wyllie replied. "I shall try to sen her to school this winter; you must be kind to her, Fred, and treat her well." "Treat her well ! Of course I shall. I declare, she's got about the homeliest phiz I ever saw." 'Hush 1" said his mother, looking with ill concealed pride at the handsome face of her boy. "You shouldn't talk so." The boy took up his cap and went back to his chopping, while the girl in the other room stood still for a moment with a flushed face and strangely bright eyes, then she came quietly into the kitchen and began washing dishes. Fred had every inclination to be kind and on intimate terms with the newcomer. Kind he was, but it did not seem possible to be very intimate with the poor house gir• Fred &eider] in his own mind that she was the proudest piece he ever saw, and . he was very much provoked with him self that he could not help liking her, for she certainly appeared to care very little for him. It was true, at rare intervals, she seemed suddenly to thaw, and enter delightedly into his plans, to chat and laugh with him in a way that charmed him, but when he next came eagerly to her, be was almost sure to find her a cold, reserved little thing. But one day, after she had been at the farm about two months, there happened an incident which effectively broke down the reserve the child had striven to maintain. It was a warm, thawy day in January. Fred had been out in the meadow half a mile below the house all the morning, when Mrs. Wyllis directed Marjory to run down and call him, and bring him back directly. Marjory bounded through the woods that separated the house from the meadow ; then on the borders of the low land, paused and looked about for Fred. She could not see him, but she saw the prints of his boots in the soft, watery snow, where he had bounded from hillozit to hillock across the meadow, and into the cedar swamp be yond. It seemed to her that she had walked days in the swamp, though it was no more than three hours, when suddenly she thought she heard a faint halloo, sounding half smothered by these heavy hanging trees She rushed forward in the direction of the sound, her clothes catchincr ° and tear ing among the underbrush, her feet !plash ing water upon her face. She shouted as she panted on : "I'm coming. Which way ?" "Out here ! Come quick !" It was Fred's voice silo heard, and there was the sound of strttgle and pain in it that somehow gave a tightened gasp to the girl's breath. After a few minutes she broke through a tingle of horse-briars on the banks of a little pond, in whose dark, stag nant waters she saw the boy for whom sh e had been sent, his head thrown back, his hands holding fast to a floating log of half de cayed wood, that barely kept him afloat iklarjory stood for a moment recovering her breath, and trying to decide upon what to do. Fred looked in silence at her, an instinct telling him that she would do the best thing.:.• , :he clasped her hands, and cried: "I will get a long pole and reach it to you." and turned to find it, when Fred said, desponding: "You are not strong enough." But the frail looking arms were muscu lar, and seemed now endowed with super human_ strength. With much painful msnenvering on the part of both, Fred had grasped the pole and was dragged to the shore. Overcome by exhaustion, the boy sank down at her feet, and tears escaped his eyes as she took his head upon her arm ; and he felt an almost uncontrollable desire to kiss her; but he refrained, feeling rather doubtful as to how she would take it. Sooner than be would have liked, she started up to go home. They plunged on briskly for half an hour. The boy's wet clothing steaming with the exercise; when suddenly, with a very blank face he ex claimed : "Marjory, I don't know whore we are ! I am lost !" In the gray wintry dawn they came out upon a highway five miles from home and plodden onward until a farmer took them up in his cart and carried them home to the distracted parents. Fred wds sick a month after that, and, with the fond tyranny of affection, insisted urn Marjory waiting upon him every minute, until bis mother was half jealous of the little girl. In the days of his convalescence, when he could sit by the kitchen fire, while Marjory knit or sewed, he first discovered what a voice of music his nurse had. The boy, weakened by illness, would lean back in his chair, and while the wild melody of her songs filled the air, tears of exquisite delight would fill his sunken eyes and roll down his cheeks. It was upon one of these times, when Marjory was sinning fragments of an Ave Maria she had picked up in some unknown way, that the door behind them opened softly, and the minister stood, with won dering face, listening with such intensity and surprise that he did not stir for a mo ment after the strain ceased. He was an amateur in music, and the rcult of that moment was the arrangement that Mar jory should receive singing lessons from the lame German choir leader. From that moment a new life opened for the girl, the vague longings of her heart took form in the enthusiastic striv inn to grasp the best of her divine art. As the weeks passed Fred grew almost angry that all her devotion seemed offered to her own love. She had no time for him or anything save her music. So the years began to glide, and the two children grew from the fancies of childhood to the deeper desires of a wilder life. * A prima donna was entrancing the fash ionable world. The gayest, the most bril liant of audiences was listening to the ex quisite "Sonnatnbula" of Miss St. James. As the last strain parted her lips in that living melody which thrilled the hearts of her hearers, the eyes of the singer saw bending eagerly forward the tawny, leonine head, the bright face, the memory of which had never fir a moment left her. The curtain fell between her and the deep glance of those blue eyes, but she heard not the tempest of plaudits. But holding her furs fast about her, she paused only one moment at the carriage steps, a swift leap of her heart telling that a figure under a distant light was that friend of her childhood, but he apparently dared not approach. She entered the car riage, and strove to talk interestedly with a lady who accompanied her. The sudden peeling forth of the fire bells sounded in upon the even roll of their carriage, and several engines dashed past them. "The driver will know better than to go by the fire, I hope," the lady had just said, when the carriage whirled into a cross street, and came full upon the burn ing building, from whose roof long tongues of flame were springing In the mood which then possessed her, this sight was fascinating to Marjory. "If the horses are not afraid," she said to the driver, "stop for a moment where we can see. A fire always bewitches while it terrifies me." _ The driver obeyed her, and Marjory lowered the wirdow and leaned forward into the blaze ofbrillianee. She could see distinctly the features of the firemen as they plied the engines or daringly pene traced within the realm of fire. All at 0.,e0 there rose the cry that a child vtas within the building, up above where no one could reach him. Even the intrepid firemen hesitated and held back. Marjory had become intensely interested. Her lips parted with her quick breaths, her face glowing. As she looked, a lithe, slender figure sprang up the window that rested against the chamber window. In that first glance at that face and fiarm enshrined in that fiery glory Marjory recognized Fred Wyl lis. She felt her breath stopping upon her lips; there was now only a pallid white heated upon her face Marjory could not have spoken had death been the penalty of silence. An unbroken stillness fell upon the crowd. They waited until the man re appeared at the ladder with the child in his arms. He descended the ladder ap parently with great difficulty. As he stepped upon the ground the child was snapped from his arms by the father, and the girl watching in the carriage saw the brave figure reel and fall, and the crowd bustle around him. "Take me to him," said Marjory The people gave way before this woman, who seemed to come with authority, and the whisper ran among them "It is Marjory James !".. _ _ They had carried Fred Wyllis a little apart, and he was lying on a lounge, one of the many pieces of furniture scattered about. Before him there appeared the face he had just seen queening it so royally.— Tremulous soft hands took his begrimed ones. He murmurs "Marjory," as in dreams he had done so•many times, but now it was Marjory herself who answered him. She whispered his name in just such a tone as he had longed to hear. "Only live," she said over his lips, her breath, for the first time since childhood, touching them in a caress. "Live, when I tell you I love you, even as you would have me." The intense earnestness of her tone called a blush to her face. He looked at her with all the fire of the gaze she re membered so well. "Oh, I will live," he cried, pressing that dear face to his heart; but even as he spoke, that heart throbbed its last, )isld ing to the strain which had been too much for mortal to bear. A few moments later, in a cold, still voice, Marjory requested that the body might be borne to her house, and she fol lowed it in her carriage. nTisttilaq. Science and /Esthetic Phenomena. We frequently hear protests made 'against the cold, meeftii'.:-.ode of deal ing with aesthetic phenonac.. 0 toyed by scientific men. The dissection Newtoa of the light to which the world owes all its visible beauty and splendor seemed to Goethe a desecration. We find, even in our own day, the endeavor of Helmholtz to arrive at the principles of harmony and discord in music resented as an intrusion of the scientific intellect into a region which ought to be sacred to the human heart.— But all this opposition and antagonism has for its essential cause the incompleteness of those with whom it originates. The feelings and aims with which Newton and Goethe respectfully approached nature were radically different, but they had an equal warrant in the constitution of man. As regards our tastes and tendencies, our pleasures and pains, physical and mental, our action and passion, our sorrows, sym pathies and joys. we are the heirs of all ages that preceded; and of the human na• Lure thus handed down poetry is an ele• ment just as much as science. The emo tions of man are older than his under standing, and the poet who brightens, purifies and exalts these emotions may claim a position in the world at least as high and as well assured as that of the man of science. They minister to different, but to equally permanent needs of human nature ; and the incompleteness of which I complain consists in the endeavor on the part of either to exclude the other. There is no fear that the man of science can ever de stroy the glory of the lilies of the field ; there is no hope that the poet can ever successfully contend against our right to examine, in accordance with scientific meth od, the agent to which the lily owes its glory. There is no necessary encroach ment of the one field upon the other.— Nature embraces them both, and man when he is complete, will exhibit as large a tol eration. The Latest Tennessee Monstrosity. Five miles southwest of Kenton, Teon , on the Mobile & Ohio Railroad, is the greatest monstrosity of the age—a human being who resembles a frog. tie is a son of E. Newell, is twenty-six inches high, weighs forty eight pond., and was born in Obin county, Tenn., March 12, 1875 His body and arms are regularly Lirnied and well developed, his lingers are short, and the manner in which they set on his hands give them the appearance ofa frog's foot ; his legs are small and are set at right angles with the regular line of walk; his feet are small and badly deformed; his face is eight or nine inches long and makes an angle of sixty two degrees with the base of the skull (facial angle ;) his head is al most conical; his eyes are small and with out expression ; his upper jaw projects far over his lower one; his lower jaw is small and has a superabundance of flesh attached. which renders him quite froggy. Ile can't talk. If you throw a nickle on the floor he will light on it like a chicken on a june bug. He can't walk, but what is wanting in walking is made up in jumping. I saw him jump eight feet after a dime If a tub of water is placed near him he will jump into it like a duck. In rainy weather he goes to the door and leaps out, and re mains out doors until the rain is over.— Obion county has given birth to the fol lowing : The female dwarf's, the mud ne gro, the sleeping beauty, and the frog child. She is justly entitled to the ap pellatien, "Mother of Monstrosities."— Troy Xeirs. --- - --+--- IN view of the fact that Watt's hymns have been translated into the Choctaw language, and have become favorites of the braves, an admirer of the noble red man, says it is very affecting to think of a noble red man setting upon a fence and singing, "How doth the little busy bee," while he watches his wife carrying home a couple of bushels of potatoes upon each shoulder, and wondering if be couldn't swap that scpuw for a jug of robust rum. IF it wasn't for the law, a man could make a fortune in half the time. SUBSCRIBE lur LllO JOURNAL. A City of Wild Pigeons. TWENTY sQi An E MILES OF THE BIRDS NESTI NO IS FOREST COUNTY, PA. (Corrc.vendeneo of the N. Y. Sun.) The great pigeon nesting of Forest c• - einty, Pa., covers twenty square miles. It is in Jenks and Howe townships, near the source of streams that empty into the Allegheny river. It is sixteen miles west of Kane, and a hundred miles south of Buffalo in a direct tine. The country is almost an unbroken wilderness. No more than ten persons live within the boundaries of the nesting. There are roads, but they are as rough as Tammany politicians and surpass them in bruising power. They were made by wood choppers and bark peelers. Hoots and stones mount skyward, and ruts and mud holes sink deep toward the bottomless pit. The country is neith er rocky nor mountainous. It is a hilly slope, shaded with beeches and hemlocks, and a few cherry, birch and maple trees. The beeches bear a crop of nuts irregularly and never two years in succession. The nut is triple sided and triangular, and grows within a prickly burr, much small er than a chestnut burr. Each burr con tains two nuts. The first frost cracks the burrs, and the nuts drop to the ground. Under a cover of snow they retain their sweetness until spring. These nuts attract the pigeons. The condition of the crop is studied by small scouting parties in the fall, and in some manner is told to the main army, who ad vance with the approach of spring. This year the advance guard approached in the latter part of February. They roosted at the head or Minister and Porky Creeks, tributaries of the Tionesta. A light snow soon fell after their arrival, but did Lot prevent them from securing an ample sup ply of nuts. They swept downward in groups of thousands and whipped the snow from the ground with their wings. The continuous flapping sounded like the roar of a cataract Myriads of birds poured into the roost daily for the next fortnight. They came in sheets that stretched from horizon to horizon, and at times obscured the light of th,! sun. At night over five square miles of trees were loaded with roosting birds. The noise was defenit - q.,!. At times huge branches, broken by the weight el birds, crashed to the ground, throwing the vast camp into dire confusiou. The unfortu nate pigeons flowed to and fro in the darkness, uttering plaintive cries, which were answered by their more fortunate companions in the trees. A heavy fall of snow or a gale after dark breaks many ever-weighted limbs and spreads dismay among the fleck. The fallen birds skulk to cover and await the break of day, filling the darkness with their cries of terror. Farmers and others visited the roosts after nightfall, and by the light of a blazing fire, clubbed hundreds of birds from the lower branches of trees with long poles While sojourning at the roost the birds mate. The Tom pigeon coos inmntly, swelling his chest a la Conkling and ruf fling the feathers of his neck. The mat Ling lasts three or four days A thousand millions of birds or more are courting. The forest resounds with love making. Frequently two toms court the same hen, and a battle royal ensues. Eyes flash fire, beaks are crossed like rapiers, and the com batants use their wings as Irishmen use shillelahs at a county fair. The hens stand by, coy and modest, and give themselves to the victor without reserve. Once mated, the pair is a model of constancy. The torn is all attention and the hen all affec tion. Ile brings her the choices delica cies and she rewards him with kisses Woe betide the feathered roue who tries to loosen the domestic bond. Respectable married pigeons make cowman cause against him, and club him from the camp in disgrace. The pair, however, are not mated for life. A nesting breaks the con tract, and ever afterward they treat each other like strangers. No tow was ever known to fight for the same hen. If a hen loses her mate she remains a widow until the next year. Nesting begins soon afier mating. The birds never nest at a roost. This year the first corps nested a fortnight after their arrival. The nests are mostly made in leafless hard wood trees, about twenty miles from the roost. The tom gathers the twigs and the hen interlaces them. No artistic skill is displaye-l. The twigs are woven without regularity, and the structure resembles an eagle's nest on a small scale. The interior is thached with moss gathered from the bark of hemlock trees. The tom finds the moss end the hen does the thatching. It takes three days to build a nest. When everything is ready for house keeping the hen lays an egg, and rarely more than one. During incu bation the torn alternates in household duty. There are from ten to thirty nests in a tree Each family strictly attends to its own business. The tom seeds his wile and no other. The golden rule, however, is not recognized. If a hen loses her hus band she receives no sympathy. No one offers to assist her in raisin.- ' her squab, and while she is in search of food to keep it alive it may perish from exposure under 1 the eyes of scores of unconcerned fathers and mothers. _ The egg hatches within thirteen days, and the nest is never deserted until the squab is grown. The parents take turns in procuring food. The tom usuaily shel ters the squab from 8 A. M. to 3 r. M., and the hen does the same during the iii• terveDing time. At night the tom roosts near her. In cold weather the squab 3 are fed three times a day. If the days are warm they are allowed one or two lunches in addition to their regular meals In For est county the old birds were flying from thirty to forty miles in search of food. When nuts are scarce they journey over a hundred miles. They fly at the rate of about ninety-five miles an hour. With distended crops they wing their way back to their nests The action of' their wings churns the food into a curd resembling boiled rice. This curd gives rise to the phrase "pigeon milk," two expressive words frequently used without an idea of their meaning. On the return to the nest the squab puts its head into the parent bird's mouth, and draws the milk direct from the crop. For twelve days they are fed on this substance. They are then as fat as butter and as listless as toads at noonday. On the thirteenth day they receive their last weal from the bills of the old birds. Their throats are packed with beech nuts, and they are left to their own resources. The tows and hens arise from the tops of the trees like a great cloud, and are quick, ly lost to sight The squabs lie blinking in their nests for hours. On finding them selves deserted, they toddle to the rims of their baskets and balance themselves. Al ter a preliminary flutter of the wings they strike out for a limb, reach it, lose their equilibrium, and tumble to the ground. They then wonder about like drunken men for three or four days ere they know enough to seek food or water. Fully a week elapses before they are in good flying condition. When they become lean they readily take the wing, and skirmish for themselves Their wing feathers grow much faster than the feathers in their tails, and when flying this gives them a ludi crous appearance. They resemble boys in monkey jackets. A lack of tail feathers sends them rudderless through the air. They are forced to fly in a straight line, swerving gently between the trees. On alighting they frequently pitch heels over head, and appear dumbfounded. At first they form small flocks, but as they grow stronger of wing these flocks come together, and the downy brigade pitches fir a good feeding ground. Either instinct or some kind-hearted old bird points the way, for veteran pigeon hunters say that a flock of squabs invariably finds the best feed. The parent birds, nest anew within a few miles of the old place. If the beech nuts hold out they nest three times before summer. After the third nesting the myriad disbands and is scattered over the country. In autumn they are found in the woods from Maine to Texas and from Washington Territory to Georgia. A very few mate and nest in odd places in the summer. All, however, re-unite in a grand army about the beginning of a new year. This flock nested in Forest county in 1878, 1871 and 1807. Last year they nested in the Indian Territory, where there was a superabundance of acorns. A great crop of beech nuts is usually followed by a large crop of acorns. The two crops seldom grow in the same year. These facts are derived from professional pigeon hunters, who also assert that three immense flocks of birds are now nesting in the United States—one in Missouri, a second in Mich igan and u third in Forest county. To Keep the Hands White. "The band is essentially the instrument of touch." wrote Balzac in his "Physiolo gic du Marriage." "The hand having alone executed all that man has conceived until it now is, in a certain way, action itself. The entire amount of our capacity passes through it; the hand transmits life and leaves traces of magnetic power. Noth ing, not one of our features can be com pared to it for the richness of its express sion. In a word, it presents an inexplica ble phenomenon, which might be termed the incarnation of thought." These lines should suffice to make the marvelous power of a beautiful hand well understood, as also the fact of the necessity of neglect ing nothing that might preserve or increase this power, which nothing can replace. The whiteness and finencei of its skin forms the principal beauty of the hand. Put fifty grammes of bitter almonds into boiling water, so as to be better able to take off their skins easily ; let them dry, and then pound them in a mortar. Pound separately thirty grammes of cherry buds, an equal amount of orris root and starch. Nix these powders with the blanched almonds; and the yolks of four eggs to this and mix it again, wetting this paste with two bun dred grammes or alcohol and twenty drops of essence of roses, or any other essence. Warm this mixture over a slow fire, stir ring it all the time, for fear it should stick to the vessel. You then put this paste in a jar, keeping it in a dry place, in order that it may become sufficiently dry to be reduced to powder. You can use this powder to wash your bands, but it is better to employ it dry and to rub the bands with it night and morning which will give the skin all the whiteness and softness that it is possible for it to acquire. It can also be used to make wrinkles disppear. Use Salt. In many a disordered stomach, a tea spoonful of salt is a certain cure. In the violent internal aching termed eolie r add a teaspoonful of salt to a pint of cold water, drink it and go to bed ; it is one of the speediest and best remedies known. The same will revive a person who seems almost dead from receiving a fall, etc. In an apo plectic fit, no time should be lost in pour ing down salt water, if sufficient sensibil ity remains to allow of swallowing it; if not, the head must be sponged with cold water until the senses return, when salt will completely restore the patient from his lethargy. In a fit, the feet should be placed in warm water with mustard, and the legs briskly rubbed, all bandages re moved from the neck, and a cool apart ment procured if possible. In many eases of bleeding at the lungs, when other rem edies fail, Dr. Rush found that two tea spoonfuls of salt completely stayed the blood. In the case of a bite from a mad dog, wash the part with strong brine for an hour; then bind on some salt with a rag. In toothache, warm salt water held to the part and renewed two or three times will relieve in ni , ,st cases. It' the teeth be covered with tartar, wash twice a day with salt. In swelled neck, wash the part with brine, and drink twice a day, also, until cured. Salt will expel worms, if used in food in a moderate degree, and aid diges tion. but salt meat is injurious it . used much improving Noses. A lady of my acquaintance was given by nature a nose that was flat—a sort of pun, with white nostrils. Meeting her a t'ew days ago I did net at hist recognize her. She was immensely improved, I asked the cause. "Can't you see ?" she asked. I scrutinized her face. "Yes;" I exclaim ed ; "it's your nose, and it has grown out. Well, I never ! What did it ?" Her nose stood out to a proper length, and was as shapely as could have been desired. "I've got an extensor in it," she said ; but you mustn't tell." "What's an extensor ?" "A metal lining, or firm, which I wear in my nose to give it a good shape. I'll show it to you when we get home. She did show it to me. It was simply two forms of silver, colored red on the inner surface, to be pressed up into the nostrils. They effee• tually lifted the end of the nose ont from the face, and were not uncomfortable or discoverable. These articles are declared to be an article of common manufacture by fashionable dentists. A FELLOW who hid under a sofa at an informal Boston missionary meeting, says that the thirty five ladies spoke twice of the down-trodden heathen and more than a hundred times of anew kind of hair dye. IN giving geography lessons down East. a teacher asked a boy what State be lived in, and was amused at the reply, drawled through the boy's nose, "A state of sin and misery." by :i;rcet organ NO, 22.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers