Jno. S. Mann, Proprietor. VOLUME XXIV, NO. 48. The POTTER JOURNAL AND >EWS ITEM. PUBLISHED E\ERT FRIDAY AT cO U1 > ERSPOIIT, PA. (Office in O'nist'd Block.) TERMS, 81.7" PER YEAR is ADVANCE. Jno. S. Maun, Hamilton, Proprietor. Publisher. c. J. CURTIS. Attorney at law and District Attorney, Office on MAIS St. (over t ■ y d Office, COUDERSPORT. PA., Solicit-all :in-ine— pretiining to hi- profession, special attention given tfttllllk I !■• I,T, rK ,n JOHN S. ''•'ANN & SON, utontf y- at Law and ' cniejaiiWK, •, onhl:-!" RT. l'A.. I -ctwa* prouipt-.y attended K> Arthur 3. Mana. .. .-ra' ! r.-'-rmxee A-* Nary tub C s. S. GREENMAN, attorney at law, rFICE OYER FPRSTFR'S STORE,) COUDERSPORT, PA. I . m - ts;t> p. C. I akrabfe I OLMSTED A LARRA3EE. [ ; |T I.NKYr- AND COUNSELORS AT LAW iffice iu Olmsted Block,) ( OUDEI'.SPORT, PENN'A. I SETH LEWIS. I Attorney at I -aw and Insurance Agent. LEWISVILLE, PA. lA. M. REYNOLDS, DENTIST, .y,.-r 15 OI.M-TKD BLOC*,' ( t iUDERSpORT. PA. House, BKOW> & KELLY. Propr's. mer of SECOND and EAST Streets COUPERSPftRT. PENN'A. 7 mention paid to th* convenience and comfort of euest-. G ! stabLng attache!. LewiFvlHe Hotel, ' rner of MAIN and NORTH Streets, LEWISVILLE, PA. tr . attached. PEAP.SALL & WE3STER, PAINTERS. A <- ,rovp SECOND, - ver French'? store.* COl DF.RSPoRT, PA. ■ sr. GisTirjr, O-a -inff. OvViminlrg, [ -• ntr. Pape--hanirlng. etc.. done I i n" it -5-:. proruptnei* sal -patch In all races, and satisfaction sruar autlfrt. I'AiNTS fcr sale. 2425-1 (■•-o-i J. s. HAKJJ ' HO'PSON 4 MANN. Medicines Books, Stationery. 3"U' P'l TS mis W *ll PAPER, iC„ f - Jf "i nnrt Third St*.. COUDERSPORT. PA. 5. F. HAMILTON. 6.ND JOB PRINTER r .V in and Third.) ■ RERSPORT, PA. C. M. ALLEN, ■ * ;I! and Mechanical Dentist, LEWISVILLE. PA. "inteed to give satisfaction. D. J. CPOWELL, *1 ' .' o >NING. Cameron co.. Px ''TSHIS(iLE MACHISEt , Mi Lin"* and Genemi Cu. L' tr. W >rtc T * T * -m yt * waaii w a Ulai^ o use. Si ** ii, ®fntal. Decorative & T'rrsro I'A I NTER, JIjDERSPORT, PA. LLM > i I'AfER HANGING done ■ neatness and disjatch. n guaranteed. I{a, o.r HOUSE Pt'J attended to. im" !; NEEFE, rr IAGE FACTORY. 'ICDEICSPORT, PENN'A. ■' .iking. Blacksraithlng, mini: and Retiring done -■ 11 ■ i.-i durability. Charges 24i5-ly c - BREUNLE, Vu LK WORK, I'EKSPORT. PA. ■wt lav'-n et '"" <1 nished to order,' " - . ! ' aad workmanship, on '' ms iTKg",. ' r H{ theofflce of Jom -■ re-wve j'orapt attention. THE POTTER JOURNAL D STENTS IT :E 3Vt. i A Mother's Soliloquy on Decora tion Day. "On honored graves your garlands lay Our country is at peace." you say; "And this is Decoration Day." e strew the Sowers bending iow; Our hearts bow down with weight of woe— Ouce more the ashes are aglow. The boy with full exultant heart. Went to hi? drath. nor feit t/ie smart. For love of country dulled the dart. But me: ah, me 1 I see agaiu The lurid dames—the flying train— The Death that stalks the gory plain. Stern war, relenties*. raised the sign. His iron heel crushed out the wine ' And left the bruised and bleeding vine. I will not think that God e'er gave ' i The impetus io that wild wave That -wept the dear lad to his grave. Pie high: pile high the flowers! what then? It wi:l not give him back again. And 1 am t ;aee-c >ie > ears and ten. The w he.:- -• 'U waft taur fragrance by— The green leaves wither up andd ie— The urate Ui.i. es beneath mine eye. Could any wish to win renown While we our bleeding hearts lay down And at such cost the victor crown? Ah. yes! 'tis well: secure from fears My country free, her flag uprears, V .ii.e I but drown me in my tears. Can age grow strong! Can love grow cold— A mother's love, of wealth untold? My boy was fair, and young and bold. I'm old and lon* : forgive, restrain. Oh, God: the heart in burning pain. That must, must wi-h him back again. —JY. J". Evening Post "A Perfect Flag-ue." Whiz—whew—rattle—slain—bang —clump, clump! 1 very both* knew Fred was coming. His mother be gan to gaze anxion-ly toward the door, trying to imagine in what plight her boy would enter. Aunt Harriet dropped her work, ready to run for rags, strings or plasters, long experience having taught her to be on the alert for wounds, cuts and bruises. The door flew open with a jerk and with two leaps Fred and a : big basket landed beside a table where Lute was mounting autumn leaves. "See here. Lute!" exclaimed Fred, ( pushing the basket on the table, hit ting the varnish bottle, which in its turn, gave the mucilage a friendly push, till over they went together. "O Fred, you are the biggest tor ment I ever saw; you spoil some thing every tune you come near me!" cried Lute, in her impatience. It she had seen the look that crossed Fred's happy, handsome face, she would have been sorry- for the ! thoughtless words; but she didn't look up. The hurt, sorry* look j changed to a hard, defiant one as it settled in his bright blue eyes, and he tot k up the basket to go out, muttering, "i guess she'll know it before I go near her again!"' "0 dear!" groaned Lute, as she picked up the leaves and wiped up the two streams of mucilage and varnish that were slowly trickleing down on the carpet, "that boy grows worse and wo.se! h-s a perfect plague!" "You ought not to speak to him as you did, Lucy ," said her mother, gently. "I think Fred was sorry, but you didn't give him a chance to say so." "Well, what if lie was sorry? he will do something else just as bad in half an hour." "I know he's a little rough," her mother went on, "but he don't mean any harm." "Now. mother, how can you say so? Only last week he threw the cat into the soap barrel, and he must climb that young ash after his cap and knock off my hanging-basket and break it. He could have taken a ladder and not gone on the side of the tree yvhere the basket hung. After he got his cap, instead of put ting it on he threw it at the cat and broke the handsomest dahlia in the garden. Then, last night, when Will . Schofield and all the others were up j here playing croquet—l suppose you will think it was silly—Will asked if I I got my roses working in the gar den. Ik-fore 1 had time to answer Fret! spoke up and said, 'I guess she i puts the roses on in her chamber; that's why she is so late to breakfast.' Of course. I couldn't say anything, and I don't know what they all thought. Then, ju-t look at what he's done now!" and the tears trembled in Lute's eyes. u You're somewhat to blame for that yourself," replied Aunt Harriet, "for yon know I told voir to spread a paper on the table-cloth and an other on the carpet under the table. COUDERSPORT, PA., FRIDAY, JUNE 13, 1873. As for what he said last night, it isn't likely Will Schofield noticed it. or, if he did. rememtiered it two min utes. He'll out-grow such ways by | and-by." "O yes, I know you and mother always take Fred's part," sobbed Lute. "I guess if mother would tell father some of bis tricks, he would •outgrow' some of them pretty quick. But if father finds out anything it is all smoothed over." It was strange how with a slight j difference in the subject, Fred's thoughts were running in the same direction as Lute's. "She grow s crosser and crosser," he muttered, digging his toes into I # C? e- C 2 the chips behind the woodhouse. "and since Will Schofield comes up , here, she don't want m run: dat all. i s'pose I do plague her. I don't see why I h vet upset everyth'ng i before I fairly get near it." And the ! boy actually sat with his cap over Lis eves full three minutes, resolv ing lie would be very careful next time. "l'laze, inarm, can masther Frid go to the sthore fur me?" asked Bridget putting her head in at the door, an hour later. "Certainly," said Mrs. Randall. "An is he not back yit?" '•Why. isn't he about the house somewhere?" ü ß!ture, martn. an' he started fur Tooinpson's Pond wid half a dozen boys an hour agone, but 1 thought ! , he was back afoor." "Thompson's Pond?" repeated , his mother, aghast. "Why, his father has told him never to go there with the boys!" "You see now just how well he obeys," said Lute, rather pleased with an opportunity to show her superiority in reading Fred's ebarac ' ter. "O marm." cried Bri "ge% putting her head in again, "shure, there's a man here as say s the boys is all kilt, and masther Fred drowndid wid both his legs broke, fallin" out a tree!"' j O dear! how still the bou?e w-s! Father and mother gone to find Fred, and Lute left with Aunt Harriet and Bridget, to get ready for their com ing home. What kind of coming home would it be ? They- didn't dare think. Tommy Withaiu, a sort of Job's comforter, came iu and fol lowed Lute as she went restlessly about the house trying to do some- i thing. In one corner of the hall lay the big basket that had made so much trouble, but somehow Lute wanted it now. As she lifted it up, the cover slipped to one side and two or three bright leaves fell out. The basket was full. "Yes," said Tommy, who found the silence very oppressive, *'me and | Fred's been away over to Brickett's woods this afternoon to get them for; you. I should ha' thought he'd ha" been too tired to go oil" again. I'm about used up." A manly expression Tommy was fond of using. "And he was going to give them to me when I drove him off," thought Lute, with a sharp pang. "What a wicked thing 1 am! Why don't they corac? He must be—" N*. she couldn't bring herself to speak the word; and catching up Fred's geo graphy, she turned the leaves from >heer necessity of doing something. On the fly-leaf was "Freddie Ran dall," in her father's writing. Bhe remembered when he wrote it; they had all said it was hard to tell which was prouder,—Fred of the new book or the father that his only son had advanced a step in learning. Would he ever write his 1 joy's name again? Then there yvas the boy's scrawl and here the name again in Old English tvpe, and on another leaf strange looking birds with banners in their beaks, bearing that name so precious now. And now his favorite picture of a prancing horse. How hard he worked over that with dirty fingers, head on one side and tongue stuck hard into his check.—and how Lute had scolded because he abused his books so! She would have been glad at that minute to see him draw ing in Tennyson's poems, a present from Will Schofield last birthday. He bad taken two or three of her paints to color the illustrations in the book. Here the Falls of Niaga ra were painted a bright red with a dark green sky overhead. A party of negroes in very blue shirts were cutting yellow sugar-cane; and in a picture of the arctic regions, a ship was frozen among sttaw-colored ami scarlet icebergs, while orange and Vermillion Northern Lights streamed over the scene. Out from the leaves fluttered a bit of paper, upon which Tommy again vouchsafed informa tion. '•Fred writ that right in—the teacher had company—her feller, I guess," he added, byway of explana tion. "He was going to put it in the post-office, but had to get an en velope first. Read it." And Tom my- glowed with pride at Fred's skill. "I give him the paper," he added, swelling with generosity. The paper looked as if it had been cut with a dull knife from the back of an old letter; and Lute read; ."MR. SKOFIKLD I do not want you to think what I sed about my sister was tru I toled it to plage hir she get up before I do she is the best girl in the world and I guess you think so tyvo I rote this becaws I do not want what I sed too JJC a lv. - FRED. RANDALL."! "Teacher thought he was writin' in his writin'-book all the time," sni :kered Tommy, but Lute didn't ; hear. It was very- still now. The early twilight had fallen and it wa.-. almost •lark, but nobody had thought of lamps. Aunt Harriet was slowly rocking to and fro; Lute, having cried herself so sick that she could cry no more, lay on the sofa, trying hard not to think; Tommy was stretehed ljeside her on the floor; and Bridget, with her apron over her head. w .s rocking back and forth on the kitchen floor, moaning for the "two eyes that werr the light of the house." Was that the street door? It shut with a slam, (ius Bobbins, probably. Why couldn't jx-ople stay ! away just now! .Somebody- tumbled * * on the stairs. How much that sound ed like Fred! If we could only hear him tumble up stairs again— "Why, what are you all in the dark for?" Everybody jumped. There was no mistake this time, for this was nobody but Fred. In answer to Aunt Harriet's and j Lute's questions and Tommy.- open mouthed wonder, he only said, "O. Bridget is so stupid! We went up ; on Thompson's hill after beech-nuts, and Rufe Douglass did fallout of a tiee and break his arm. When father and mother found me all right, they thought they'd go round by Uncle Job's. Father told me to come and tell you, but I wanted to go round by Lin Love's and see if his doves ! had any squabs yet, so I didn't get along very quick. Been to supper? I'm 'bout starved." Bupper! Who had thought of sup per?—and going after squabs when thev were suffering so! They- didn't c J know yvhether to give him all the preserves he could eat, for joy that he was safe, or send him to bed w itb out a mouthful, they were so vexed at his not getting "along very quick." But I rather think joy triumphed, for it was reported Fred had said at school it was "first-rate to have folks think you were drowned,it made 'em awful clever to a feller"; and about a week after, as Bridget was scolding because Fred had left mud-tracks on the clean floor, when he had been told so many times to wipe his feet. Lute wiped up the mud herself and said, "you can't expect a boy to re member everything, Bridget."— Our Young Folk s. A SMART YOUNG LADY. —The Ti tusville Herald has the following •thrilling adventure' of a Warren young lady: A charming young lady of eigh teen summers, named Carrie L., of Warren, paid a visit to this city a short time since, and on Saturday afternoon last, she went to the depot of the Warren & Venango road, in e ' tending to return home, but arriving just iu time to see the train d:sap jjearing round the curve. Bent upon reaehirg Warren that night, she started out along the track with the view of walking the entire distance. On Miss Carrie sped at the rate of four miles an hour, until 7 o'clock in ! ~ the evening, when she arrived at Newton, which is twelve miles from the city. Upon reaching the middle of the trestle work at this point, she saw the night train approaching; to go on or recede, or step to one side was impossible, so she jumped down into the chasm twenty feet below. Fortunately the ground was covered with a snow drift into which she sank up to btr arm pits, thus break ing her fall and saving her life. Carrie did not scream or cry for help or anything of that sort, but quietly dug herself out. and after an hour's work regained the track and resumed her journey. Two or three miles further on a still more serious obsta cle presented itself, the track was under water as far as the eye could reach. Upon looking round she dis covered a light in the yvoods and , concluded that it must be a house. This proved to be the case and the hospitable family after hearing her story, took her in and did everything in their power for her comfort. The next morning she took the train fiom Newton for Warren and arrived there in time for dinner. Archaeological Research. Among the tuanv evidences of a revi val of the spirit of archaeological re search in England—and the civilized world is sharing it yvith England—is Sir John Lubbock's bill in Parliament for tijfc preservation of ancient monu ments. The bill, yve are told, is likely to become a law; and it is well. Tne spirit of antiquarian research is the spir it of progress, paradoxical as it may sound. Knoyvledge. be it of the past or of the present, give.-, tm the power to step onward to that of the future. Gen eral Di Cesuola, among the tombs of I-laiium. exhuming the effigies and the utensils of forgotten kings, nobles and pri> sts; M. Botta. laying l>are the walls ■ and their frescoes of an Assyrian palace at Khorsabad: Mr. Layard,-burroyving into the wonderful and wonder-filled mounds of Nimroud; Mr. Wood recon structing the yvorld-yvonder temple of Artemis, at Ephesus; M. des Vergers, sketching the fading colors, forms and contours of the ancient Etruscan war riors. lying in their sepultural splendor and paraphernalia of battle; Colonel Jones, digging arrow-heads, urns and savage gods fr in Georgia mounds —all these, and these are not by any means all. are contributing stones to build the temple of the knowledge of the present, and that temple is an observatory from whose rising top we catch farther glintps'-s over the horizon of the future. : A Nation's Disgrace.—The Wash ington Monument. A Washing on letter to the Chica go Inter-Ocean says: Somebody, a Frenchman. I think, for Gallic w it always carries a sting.; lias sai 1 that when a great American dies.the first thing his countyrmen do is to propose a monument, the next not to build it. An 1 ncy\r was epigram more forcibly illustrated than by the tnelanclmly pile known as the Washington Monument. Sit uated on a barren common, with the fetid stagnation of the canal on one side and the marshes of the Potomac on the other, its uncompleted summit crowned with a crazy board roof, its unsightly base affording grateful shelter for the übiquitous goat whose convenient appetite relishes newspa pers as well as grass, to chickens, to mules and cows, few if any of the visitors who flock thither through all seasons recogni-e in it the monument which, according to Mr. WintLrop, should "bespeak the gratitude not of the States, or of cities, or of Govern ments; not of separate communities or of official b dies, but of the peo ple of the nation—a national monu ment erected by the cirizens of the United States of America." What ! it bespeaks at present is better left 1 unsaid. In 1793 the idea of commemorating by some jtermancnt tribute Washing ton's memory was formally discussed in Congress, but not unanimously favored, for Mr. Macon urged that it would be establishing an inconven ient precedent. "If." said he, "we decline to rear one to Washington no one who succeeds him can expect one reared to his memory. If. on the other hand, we erect one, cvery pretender to greatness will expect the same distinction." Could Mr. Macon have foreseen the present structure he could have had no fears that either pretender or lawful in heritor would ever yearn for a simi lar "distinction." In 1799 the idea was revived. The plan then was to deposit the remains of Washington under a monument to be erected in the Capitol. Mrs. Washington consented to this, say ing that she was making a great sac rifice of individual feeling to public duty. This sacrifice, however, was not demanded of her, and thirty years later, when South Carolina proposed erecting a monument and removing to it the body of Washing ton, Judge Bushrod Washington very promptly and properly refused to allow the remains of his illustrious uncle to leave Mount Vernon for any place save the capital of the nation. Finally the idea of erecting a tomb, as it were, was abandoned, and in 1833 the citizens of Washington, with most laudable intentions and magnifi cent generosity, decided to erect on j the site where, as a guide book I once saw says. " Washington supposed he was to be commemorated," an obelisk which in proportion should eclipse all previous efforts in that line. Statues had been eschewed on account of their destructibility. A mausoleum would l>e inappropriate. An obelisk , was selected therefore as being the most durable of all structures save the pyramid. Looking back on the enthusiasm of those days it is aston ishing our forefathers resisted the pyramid. Moreover an obelisk was supposed to portray the plainness, simplicity and majesty- of George Washington's character. To a c-er tain extent the supposition holds good. The monument is not majes tic, perhaps, but it is severely simple and in plainness baffles description. The dimensions of the base are to be 100 feet square; its height when completed will be 517 LBS feet high er than the dome of St. Peter's and 230 feet higher than the dome of the Capitol. Its present dimensions are 55 feet square at the base and 180 feet high. Inside there is nothing !to be seen. The janitor. I suppose we may call him, turns the rusty lock of an old worm-eaten door and we step from the warm air outside into a cold hollow shaft with chilly light straggling through the loose boards on top. We are glad to get out. The most interesting thing con neeted with the monument are the stones presented by different States and societies to be placed in panels along the spiral staircase leading through the interior of the shaft to the summit. As the first step of this staircase is yet unquarried these tablets, about eighty-two in number, are collected in a long room connect ed with the janitor's house. Pennsylvania is nobly represented. There are no less than ten stones i from that .Blate. The last contribu tion to the collection is a large white marble tablet, alxjut 5 feet by 7, pre sented by the corporation of the eity of Philadelphia. It bears the coat of arms of the State of Pennsylvania surmounted by the eagle I .taring a scroll in his month with " Declaration of Independence, Philadelphia, July 4, 1776." The cia-s of '53-'54. of the Jefferson Medical College of Philadelphia, contribute a stone. Another is from Honesdale, Wayne County, Pa., 1853. By this is a very large memorial from the ".Subordi nate Lodges, I. O. 0. F.,of Philadel phia." A very handsome stone with a handsome carved relievo of a loco motive is from the " Employees of R. Norrisand Sons' Locomotive Works, Philadelphia." Then one from the Methodist Episcopal Sabbath School, elated July 4, 1853. The largest stone or stones, for there are three of them. a r e presented by the '-'Fire Department of Philadelphia. 1854." One coining from the Sons of Tem perance, of Philadelphia, declares tuat "The surest safeguard of the liberties of our country is total ab stinence from all that intoxicates." This stone must have been quarried iu Maine. We meet with New York seven times, and she does herself honor in the tablets of beautiful black marble from the " State of New York." The Athenian Lodge of 1. O. O. F., Troy, N. Y., is represented, and a hand some contribution is from the 1 " Meth odist Episcopal Sunday School of New York. February 2*2,1855. 'The Memory of the Just is Blessed.'" The Fire Department of New York is a contributor. *lso the Eureka S. F. Hamilton, Publisher S 1.75 A YEAR Lodge. of New York, and the teach ers of the Buffalo public schools.- Another piece of black marble is "From the Battlegrounds.L. 1., 1775, Kings County, N. Y., 1853." Massachusetts has sis representa tives. Boston contributed a beauti ful grauite slab with the inscription "Bostonia Couata. Sicut Patribus sit I>eus Nobis." The Washington Lodge of free and accepted Masons of Roxbury, Mass., is there too. A handsome gray stone is from Charles town, the Bunker Ilill Battle-ground. Another is from the First Regiment Light Infantry, Mass. Another, an oblong block of granite, has simply Salem, Mass. Probably a score of witches have been toasted on it. The last from Massachusetts is from New- Bedford, 1851. Virginia has three contributions. One of these is from tlie Jefferson Society of the University of Virginia to the National Washington Monu ment, Jan. 7, 18C0. By this is a handsome gray slab from Richmond, Virginia. One of the most interest ing reads: From the city of Alexan dria, Virginia. The descendents of dthe friends and neighbors of Wash ington. 1851. i r | Kentucky sends two contributions, one from the Grand Lodge and the oth- r from the Addisonian Literary Society of Drennon. Kentucky. k, Nou nobis solum sed Patriae et amicis: To the Father of His Country."' From North Carolina there is one stone, and that was given by the Thalian Association of Wilmington. New Jersey sends one tribute from the Catholic Society of New Jersey, a white slab in a dark marble frame, I and another from the Washington Krina Guards of Newark, N. J. Maryland is represented by the pu pils of the public schools of Balti more, and by the Grand Lodge of i Maryland. Ohio and Illinois are represented by the Grand Divisions of the Sons of Temperance. Louisi ana has two delegates. The Conti nental Guard of New Orleans sends ' a tremc-n lous tablet. The more con spicuous of the two, however, is a slab from "The State of Louisiana, Ever Faithful to the Union and the Constitution." Aud scarcely less significant is the sole representative of a sister State: "Tennessee. The Federal Union, —it must l>e Pre served." The dates of both are nearly a score old. A handsome white marble stone is from the Grand Lodge of Florida. Another of gray is from Warren, Rhode Island. Next to it is one from the Grand Lodge of Mississip pi, and that is side by side with an other from " Vermont; Freedom and Unity." The District of Columbia -en is a tablet presented by the asso sociation of the oldest inhabitant*, 4th of July. 1870. One comes from the home of Stark, by the ladies of Manchester, N. 11. Next to this is a small dark -tone from "Deseret." The inscription is "Holiness to the Lord," and the device a bee-hive in successful operation, which cannot be a cheering sight to the latter-day saints, for bees, notwithstanding their hymn-book notoriety, are rather a mistaken community, always gather ing what others enjoy. A gray, rough slab with awkward lettering is from the " Cherokee Na tion, 1850." and in whimsical con trast to it is one " Presented by Tus carora Tribe, No. 5. to Pater Patriae, Seventh Sun, Hunting Moon, Grand Sun 5C15, Improved order of Red Men, P. C'." For a potpourri of English and Latin metaphor and fact it is quite unique, approached only by that from a Hibernian Soci ety, on which an eagle with the na tional motto surmounts a harp with " Meinor et Fidelis" inscribed on it. The marble and execution of this are beautiful, but it recalled with irresist ible force the sign of the Irish tav ern-keeper, on which an eagle was grasping a haqi whence floated •' E Pluribus Erin, Unum go Bragh!" At one end of the room is a stone from Bruddock's Field. One stone looks like iron ore; it is rough, and inscribed with the square and corn pass and inclosing the letter G. Its donor or donors are unknown. A large copper slab comes from Michi gan. There is a stone from the New England Society of Montreal. One small slab about two feet square ha
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers