VoI .XXX VII.—WhoIe I\o- 1960. Terms of Subscription. ONE DOLLAR PER A^AilJI, IN ADVANCE. For six mouths, 75 cents. fCf 34 All NEW subscriptions must be paid in advance. If the paper is continued, and not paid within the first month, §1,25 will be char ged ; if not paid in three months, >1,50; if not paid in six months, §1,75; and if not paid in nine months, §2,00. Kates of Advertising. One square, 1G lines 1 time 50 " 2 times 75 " 3 44 1.00 " 1 mo. 1,25 44 3 " 2,50 " C 44 4, 00 44 Jvear6,oo 2 squares, 3 times kUO 44 3 mos. 3,50 The above rates are calculated on burgeois type. In smaller type, 15 lines of brevier, or l'J line 3 of nonpariel minion constitute a square. For stereotype plates, a liberal deduction will be made. The above are cash terms for all advertisements inserted for three months or less. Yearly ad vertisements are held payable, one half at the end of three, and the balance at the end of sik months. Communications recommending persons for office, must be paid in advance at the rate of '25 cents per square. UORTN?* .Jenny land's Farewell Soug. Sung at Castle Garden, New York, on the 24th May. WORDS BY C. J*. CBA.VfII. Young larul <>f Imp©—fair Western Star! W hose light I hailed from climes afar— -1 leave thee now—but twine for thee line parting wreath of melody. I) take tiiis offering of the heart From one who feels 'tis sad to part. And if it lie that strains of mine Have glided from my heart to thine. My voice was but the breeze that swept The spirit chords that in thee slept ; The music was not all my own— Thou gavest back the answering tone. Farewell—when parted from thy shore Long absent scenes return once more. Where'er the wanderer's home may Vie, Still, still will memory turn to thee ! Bright Freedom's clime—l feel thy spell. But I must say farewell —farewell! An Advertisement. Wanted—a head to hold my own, As down life's vale I glide : Wanted, an arm to b an upon, Forever by my side. Wanted—a firm and steady foot, With step secure and free, To take it< straight and onward pace, O'er life's path with me. Wanted—a form erect and high, A head above my own ; So much that I might walk beneath Its shadow o'er me thrown. Wanted—an eye, within whose depth Mine own might look and see Uprisings from a guileless heart, O'erflown with love for me. Wanted—a lip whoso kindest smile Would speak for me alone; A voice—whoso richest melody Would breathe affection's tone. Wanted—a true religious soul, To pious purpose given, With whom my own might pass along The road that leads to HEAVEN. TSTR LUUT OTTFII. THE SCHOOL MISTRESS. 'The school ma'am's coming! the school ma'am's coming!' shouted a dozen voices at the close of a half hour's faithful watch to catch a glimpse of our teacher. Every eye was turned towards her with a scrutinizing glanon't you think, Thomas, that our school room would be* a gread deal plca>anter if we had some evergreens to hang around it : something to make it cheerful?' inquired Miss Westcott. ' Ves'm, and I know where T can get plenty of them.' 4 Well, Thoma.*, if you will have some here by eight o'clock to-morrow morning, 1 will be here to help you put them up, and we will give the children a pleasant surprise; ami here are some books I will give you, Thom as ; you may put them in your own drawer, they are what 1 want you to study.' 4 But I can't .study geography and history,' exclaimed Tom, confused. 4 1 never did.' 4 That is the reason you think you cannot,' replied Miss 11 esteott. 4 1 am quite sure you can. and you will love them, I know.' 4 Nobody ever cared whether I learned or not before,' said Tom with some emotion. ' Well, 1 care,' said Miss Westcott, with earnestness. 4 You are capable of becoming a great and good man : you are now forming your character for life, and it depends upon yourself what you become. The poorest bov in this country has an equal chance with the wealthiest, and his circumstances are more favorable for becoming eminent, for he learns to depend upon himself. 1 will assist you all I can in your studies, Thomas, and I know you will succeed ; remember that 1 am your Iriend, and come to me in every dif ficulty.' Tom Jones had not been brought up, he bad come up, because he had been born into the world and couldn't help it : but as for mental or moral training, he was as fruitless "i it as a wild bramble busli of a pruning knife. His father was an intemperate, had man, and his mother was a totally insufficient woman. At home he received nothing but blows, and abroad nothing but abuse. Jli . bad passions were therefore all excited and fostered; and his g> . ! ones were n r called out. lie always expected that his teachers would hate him, so he whetted ate A iiis combative powers to oppose them, and he had made up his mind to turn the 4 new school ma'am' out of doors. When, there fore, Miss Westcott declared that she w;w glad to have him in her school, he was amazed; and that she should manifest an interest in him, and give him a set of hooks, was perfectly incompreliensive to him. Miss esteott understood Ids position and char acter, and determined to modif) him. Sin felt that he was equally capable of good and had actions, though the had had now pre dominated. She knew that his a<-ri\<- mind must be busy; one might well think of chaining the lightning as heading down 1-v force that wild spirit to his hooks. She would give him employment, but such as would call out a new set of ideas and thoughts. He must feel that lie wa- doing good to others and for others' sake, and that he was not guided alone by his own wayward will, and yet there must he no a/tprorotio of restraint upon him ; lie must >-c to do good. Tom Jones went home that night with a new. feeling in his breast.: for the first time in his life ho felt that he was capable of rising above hit; present position and becoming gieater and better than ho was. !lis mind became inundated with new and strong emotions, and like a mighty river turned from its course, his thoughts and energies from that hour sought a now direction. Ihe next morning he was up with the dawn, and when Mis.- Westcott arrived at the school house, she found Tom Jones there with his evergreens. 'Good morning, Thomas,' she said kindly, ' and so you are here before me ; you must have riseu early, and have found some beauti ful evergreens; and now if you will help me them, wc will have all the room arranged by nine o'clock.' 4 I have brought a hammer and some nails,' said Tom, 4 1 thought we sb add need some.' 4 Yes, so we shall: lam glad you thought of it,' replied Miss Westcott. lhat day every scholar looked amaz -dto seti lorn -Jones actually study his hock, and to hear him answer several questions cor rectly, and they were still more confounded, when at recess Miss Westcott said : 4 Thomas, you will take care of those little children, will you not, and - . that th vdo not got hint ? \on must he tlurr protestor.' One would as soon have thought of setting a FRIDAY EVEN wolf to guard a flock of lambs, as Thomas ' Jones to take care of the little children. ; i ' \\ ell,' exclaimed Sam Evans, 4 I never , i saw such a school ma'am in all the davs of 1 my life; did you Tom?' 4 No, but 1 wish I had, and I would have j : been a better boy from what 1 am now, but I am going to study now, aud learn something : • - Miss Westcott says I can, aud 1 am deter mined to try,' says Tom. 1 was astonished to observe the effect that ' Miss Westcott's treatment had upon the! scholars ; they began to consider him of some importance, and to feel a sort of respect for him, which they manifested, first by drop- i jiing the nickname Torn, and substituting j tommy, which revealed certainly a more kindly feeling towards him. In less than a week Miss U esteott had the school completely under control, yet it was 1-y love and respect that she governed, and Hot by an iron rule; she moved among her scholars a very queen, and yet she so gained their confidence and esteem, that it did not seem to them submission to another's will, but the prompting of their own desire to | please. < hie glance of her eve would have quelled an insurrection, and one smile made them happy for a dev. dulia U esteott taught school with a real ization >• t th - responsibilities resting upon I n -r. an i sin bent her energies to fulfill them. Cui.eally ami skillfully -he unlocked the soul s door and gave a searching glance with in. in order to understand its abilities, and then shaped her course accordingly. 1 ho desponding and inactive she encouraged ; the obstinate she subdued ; to the yielding and fickle she taught a strung self reliance. She encouraged th - one rain drop to do all the good it could, and the rushing torrent she turned where it would fertilize rather than devastate. I liere are in every school some d rmiut energies, which, if aroused, might shak" the world. 1 here are emotions aud passions, which, it let loose, will, like the lightning of heaven, scatter ruin and blight, hut if con trolled. may like the element, become tlm ' niess- ngor of thoughts to tiro world. In that head you calldtiii/unayliein sluntlx-rpas sions like some pent up volcano : open that closed crater, and it there doe- not belch forth flames which your own hand cannot stop. 'Tom Junes' lias since filled with ability one of the highest judicial offices in the I uion. and freely acknowledges that he ov.es Ids present character and position entirely to the treatment and instructions of .Julia We tcott. Prom lie; Spirit of tlie Times. How Jim lliaudcr Salted and I'icklcd the (Quaker i-'riend. There lived, iu a certain neighborhood not far distant trout here, a rovstering rowdv bully, dim Blander. Jim was 4 sum' iu a fight, a kind oi a pugifistie Napoleon. Many and bloody were the affairs fie had had in his lib- time, and ha 1 invariably come ojf b---r. Jim not only con-idei ' d himself invulnern- j bio, hut all the fighting characters in the sur rounding eountry conceded ii was no use in fighting dim, as he was considered to be a pa tent threshing machine, that could not be improved on. In dim's neighborhood had settled quite a number of Quakers. IT in sunn- cause or other, Jim hated the 4 shad bellies,' as lie called "them, with his entire heart—he often d- dared, that to whip one of these inotl'-nsiv • people would b" the crowning glory of his life, lor years .Jim waited for a pretext. One of Jim's chums overheard a 'young'" Quaker speak in disparaging term of him. The rep >rts soon came to dim's ears, not a little magnified, dim made -l porato threats what ho was going t<> with Nathan, tic- meek follower of P- nn, on sight —besides various bruises and contusions he meant to inflict on Nathan's body : in his chaste language, he n -ant t-> gouge out b-tii his eyes and chaw off both his ears. Nathan heard of dim's threat -, and, very properly, k< pt out of his wav, hoping that time vv--iild modify dim's auger. It seems, however, thi- much-to-be d"sired result did not take place. (Juc day iriend Nathan was out riding, and in pas-nig through a long lane, when about midway, tie espied dim en tering the other end. Nathan might have turned and fled, hilt his flesh rebelled at tins proceeding. 4 I will pursue m v way po.aeea lly,' said the Quaker, 4 and 1 hope the better , sense of the man of wrath will not permit j him to molest me or allow him to do violence i to my person.' Nathan's calculations as to the lamlciike qualities of hi- adversary were j doomed to be disappointed. 4 O ho,' thought bull v. as he recognized Na than, 4 i have iiini at last. Now I'll make mince-meat of Shad-belly. 1 will suit him and pickle him, too.' "Wilt, then please dismount from thy horse,' sai-l dim, seizing the bridle of Nathan's horse, and mimicking his style, 4 my soul vearneth above all tilings to give thee the biggest mauling ever man received.' * Friend Jatnes/ replied Nathan, 4 thou must not molest me, but let nie go my way in peace. Thy better judgment will surely t<-!i thee that thou cannot possibly he benefitted . by personally injuring nie/ ' Get down in a moment,' thundered Jim ; 4 get down, you canting, lying, mischief-mak ing. cowardly hypocrite, iii drag you down if you don't dismount.' • Friend James, I remonstrate against thy proceedings and against thy language/ re- j plied Nathan. My religion teaches me sin- \ eerily—l am neither a liar, a mischief-maker, ! nor a hypocrite; lam no coward, but lam a man of peace; J desire to pursue my way quietly—let me pass on.' 4 Get down/ persisted Jim, 'down with ! yam, I want to heat some of your religion out I of you—l must give you a Hoggin' before 1 j leave you. I think by the time I'm through j with vou, you'll pass for a tolerable honest man ; i ll teach you a short and easy lesson, the importance of minding your own affairs, and the vi-k you run in slandering your neighbors.' 4 i will not dismount/ said Nathan, firmly: . 4 loosen thy hold from the bridle.' 4 You won't, won't you!' said Jim, 4 then [ here goes,' and ho makes a desperate lunge J to coll-.- the Quaker. IA JUNE 4 , 1 Nat nan was on his feet in an instant, on the opposite side of the horse. The Quaker, although of much smaller proportions than his persecutor, was all sinew and muscle, and : his well-knit form denoted both activity and strength. His wrath was evidently kindled. 4 Friend James,' he implored, 'thypertina- ! cious persistence in persecuting me'is annoy- ! ing : thou must desist, or peradventure I may I so far forget myself as to do time some bodi- i ly harm.' 4 By snakes !' said Jim, coming toward Na than, ' 1 believe there is fight enough in I Broad-briiu to make the affair interesting. 1 wish some of the hoys were here t<> sec the ! fun. Now,' continued Jim, 4 friend Nathan, j 1 am going to kuock off the end of your nose —look out!' Suiting the action to the word, Jim, after various pugilistic gyrations with his fists, made a scientific blow at the nasal formation j of our Quaker iriend; but Tom Hyercouldn't more scientifically have warded it off. Jim was evidently disconcerted at the ill success of his first attempt—he saw he had under taken quite as much as lie was likely to ac complish. Jim, however, straightened liim -cli "Ut, and appruaeh'-d Nathan more cau tiously. The contest began again. Nathan stoo l his ground firmly, and warded off the j shower of blows skilfully, which Jim aimed at him. 4 l'ri -n 1 Jim- -aid Nathan, in the heat ->f the c-.ntcst, 4 this is mere child's p!av. It gri -os nie that tiiou hast forced me into re ; istance, but 1 must defend my. elf le an bod ily harm. 1 s<-<- there is }7ut one way of bringing this scandalous and wicked affair to a close, and that is by conquering thee ; in order to do this, 1 will inflict a heavy blow i i tvv-s n thine eyes, which will prostrate j thee. following out the suggestion, Nathan -truck Jim a tremendous blow on his fore head. which brought him senseless to th ground. 'Now, said Nathan, 4 I will teach thee a !i -son, and I lr pe it will be a wholesome i lesson, too. 1 will sent myself a straddle of thy breast—l will place my knees irpun ihv arm- thus, so that thou cannot injure me when thou returuest to consciousness. 1 hope I may be the humble instrument of taming thy fi'Ti-e. vvar-iike nature, and making a better and more respectable man of thee.' A- the Quaker concluded, -Jim began to -how some signs of returning life. The iirst impulse of Jim, when he fairly saw his con dition, was to turn Nathan off. He struggled desperately, but he was in a vice—his effort was unavailing. 4 Friend, thee must keep still until I am , done villi thee,' said Nathan. ' 1 believe 1 am an humble instrument in the hands of Providence to chastise thee, and 1 trust when 1 am done with tlice, thou vviit he u changed ; man. Fri< nd James, dues thee not repent at- ; tacking me ?' 'No, said dim. 4 let nie up and I'll show you/ '1 will not let thee up, thou impious wretch/ replied N atkon.' darest thou profane the name of thy maker—l will punish then for that—l will cheek thy respiration for a moment.' N a than, as good as his word, clutched him by the throat, lie compressed his grip : a gurgling sound conld'b-- heard : Jim's face liei-anu- distorted ; a tremor ran through his frame. H<- was evidently undergoing a pro ce— of strangulation. 'The Quaker relaxed i his hold, hut not until the choking process had sufficiently, a.s he thought, tamed the perverse spirit of Jim. It took some mo- j moots for Jim to inhale .sufficient air to ad- ■ dress the Quaker. 4 1 will kuock under/ said Jim, * enough, let. llie Up.' ' No. Thou ha t not got. half enough," re p' i Nathan. 'Thou art now undergoing a pri a.ys of moral purification, and thou mi; : he contented to remain where thou lyest until 1 am done with rJte". Thou just pro file ! tie name of thy maker, friend Janus/ • .ntinued Nathan. 4 confess, dost thou repent thy wickedness?' ■ No. hanged ii' 1 do/ growled Jim. ■ Thou pervers- man,' replied Nathan, in ; an imploring tone, 'say that tiiou repentest ' thy wickedness.' ' I'll l- hanged if 1 d->.' slid Jim. ' Wilt thou not,' replied the Quaker; 4 must 1 use compulsory in-an- ?' 1 will compress thy windpipe again unless thou givest nie an j answer iu the affirmative—say quick, art i thou sorry?' ' No. I—y-o-s,' shrieked Jim in a gurgling i tone, as the Quaker's grip- tightened, 4 yes, i j am sorry.' ' is thy sorrow a Godly sorrow,' inquired ; N nthan. dim rather demurred giving an affirmative j answer to this question, but a gentle squeeze j admonished him he had better yield. ' Yes/ replied Jim, ' my sorrow is a Godly j sorrow.' 4 A Godly sorrow leadeth to repentance/ j replied Nathan, 4 we are progressing finely. , Tiiou said hut just now,' continued he, 4 that ; I was a canting, lying, cowardly, mischief- j making hypocrite. Thou wronged me in as- ! sorting those things, and slandered my per suasion. Host thou recall those assertions ; ' Yes," replied Jim, ' 1 do ; now let me up.' j ' I am not done with thee yet,' said Nathan. 4 Thou hast been a disturber of the peace ! of this neighborhood time out of memory— ; thy hand has been raised against every man, j thou art a brawler. Wilt thou promise me . that, in future, thee, will lead a more peaeea- j hie life, that thou wilt love thy neighbor as j thyself?' 4 Yets/ answered Jim, hesitatingly, 4 all but , the Quakers.' 4 'Thou must make no exceptions,' replied Nathan ; 4 I insist on an affirmative answer.' j 4 If I say yes to the 4 —l'll die first.' A struggle now ensued between the two, but Jim had ids match. ' Thou must yield, James/ said Nath an, ' I insist on it/ and lie again grasped Jiia by the throat. 4 1 will eliok- thoe into submis- | sion : thou must answer affirmatively-—say I after mo, 4 [ promise to love my neighbor as J ray self, including the Quakers.' j ' I promise that!' i aid Jim ; ' i'U be cursed j if I do/ | ' I will check ihv respiration if thou don t, replied Nathan. 4 Wilt thou yield V 4 No i won't, I II bo blasted it I do, an swered Jim. 4 Thee had better give in/ replied Nathan, 4 1 will check thee again if thee does not— see my gri pi tightens.' And Nathan did compress his grip, and the choking process again went on. Jim's face first became distorted, then purple—his tongue lolled out, and his eyes protruded from their sockets—his body writhed like a dying : man's. Nathan persisted in holding his grip until Jim became entirely passive, he then re laxed his hold. Jim was slow in recovering his speech and his senses; when he did, he begged Nathan for mercy's sake, to release him. \\ lien thee will make the promise 1 exact from thoe, 1 will release thee, hut no sooner,' ■ replied Nathan. Jim saw he was powerless, and that the : Quaker was resolute. He felt it was no use to persist in his stubborness. 1 will give in, he replied. 4 I will promise to love my neighbor as invself/ ' Including the Quakers,' insinuated Na than. ' \y.-s, including the Quakers. 4 replied Jim. ' 1 hou muyest arise then, friend James,' answered Nathan, 4 and 1 trust the lesson thou hast learned to-day will make a more peaceable citizen of thee, and I hope, a better man.' Poor Jim was completely humbled : he left the field with his spirits completelv cowed. N it long after this occurrence the store be -■ame bruited about. This was more than •Jiiu could hear. lie soon after left the scene of his many triumphs aud his late disastrous defeat, and emigrated to the 4 far west.' The last 1 heard of him he was preparing to make another move. Being pressed for his reason why he again emigrated, he said a colony of Quakers were about moving into his neigh borhood. He was under an obligation to love them, but he was of opinion that distance would lend stri ngth to his attachment. V YMIMUI:. Not long since, a young girl, eleven years of age, who lived in l'aris, attempted to mur der her mother, sister, and many of her play mates, for the purpose of drinking their blood. After a careful •examination by a scientific man, it was declared that she was i subject to the strange and terrible mania of i cannibalism. As she was extreme!v young, this -trang'- perversion of natural instinct af forded a prospect of cure. All will remem ber the ease of the sergeant, who used at midnight to leave his quarters, and dig up bodies in P<-re la Chaise, which he subse qu ally devoured. This unfortunate man is now cured, and is but thirty-two years of age. Ho preserves of the episodes of his past life only a confused memory, like the recollection of a painful dream. In other lays, science f'- ared to approach these suffer ! '' rS - I In 1770. a young man named Ferrage. un der the influence of this malady, suddenly left his companions, and surrendered himself up to this horrible propensity. He selected, as his retreat, a cavern near the top of one of the mountains of An re, whence he used to descend, like a beast of prey, into the cham i-aigne country, killing all the women: he could eat nothing else, and was constantly s • -n to gaze, as if in wait for an opportunity to seize his prey. He never went abroad without a double barrelled gun, a belt full !of pistols, and a dagger. So great was the terror that he inspired, that he used frequently to come into towns for food or ammunition. A peasant, whom he suspected of a design upon him, had his house burnt over his head. He used to decoy any muleteers he chanced to discover in the woods, to his den, where they wore uniformfy murdered. A large re ward was offered for his capture, hut in vain, until a hold peasant insinuated himself into his confidence, and captured him. This beast of prey, for such he was, was executed on the 12th of December, 1702. lie was bro ken alive on the wheel. For four years he had lived exclusively sis a cannibal. A'acancy for a Doctor. Grainier, the Indian agent in New Mexico, wrote homo on the 31st of March, that he knew of an opening for an enterprising phy sician. A vacancy had happened and ho told why. One of the Eutaws on the San Juan River was taken sick, and an Indian doctor from the Rio Verde was called in to attend him. Owing to the. strength of the disease, or to the weakness of the prescription of the doctor, the patient died and was bur ied. After the funeral the doctor was taken by the friends of the deceased, tied up, shot and scalped : his wife's hair was cut off; his house burned, containing all his property, and all his animals killed. This is the law among these indians regulating doctors. The vacancy is yet unfilled. agricultural, scc. s?u i 11-it of Fruit Trees. The best growth, and the finest fruit, are always to be expected, when the tree is furnish cd with the materials of nutriment in just the same proportion. If greatly deficient iu any essential ingredient, the tree languishes from starvation. If any highly nutritive sub stance is in a large overdose the tree may be surfeited or poisoned. We have seen a tine cherry as completely killed by embanking it heavily with horse manure, as any animal with a dose of arsenic. But in the Eastern and Middle -States, this is a rare evil. It sometimes happens, indeed, that pear trees arc rendered more liable to blight, and peach es to frost, by high manuring in low rich val leys. The greatest difficulty, throughout this region, is the starvation of fruit trees.— There is not one. case in a hundred, where better fruit, and more of it, would be obtain i cd by a deeper and richer soil f>r the roots to run and feed in; or by the removal, by means of clean culture, of all weeds, or other vegetable growth, which may rob the tree of its full share of the riches of tno soil. In large portions of the great fertile' west,' the case is quite different. The long and hot summers, in connexion with the sev re frosts of tho winters, render more caution neces sary in the application of manure, ihe oatu r.il richness being often enough, without any manure. As applying to such localities, the following remarks, with which wo have been lew Sei'ics-Voi. G-No. 3. favored ly a correspondent of Jefferson Val ley, A. .. will doubtless prove interesting: 4 A surfeit of trees manifests itself hv The appearance of the leaves on the growing twigs. Instead of shooting out rank and large, they are thrown out in whorl-like elu— tors. '1 lie twigs which support them grow a few inches, and then often commence dying at their extremities, having a hla k tip* If these twigs do not die in their whole growth, the haves finally fall off, leaving a small stin ted year's growth, with its buds crowded all along its length, frequently not the sixteenth of an inch anart. 1 bus, by oyer feeding, one year's growth is worse than lost, fur several years will be re quired to establish a healthy action again. This disease frequently shows itself on grafts set in a large thrifty sb.ck, wln-n the topsail cut off at once, especially if the tree stands in a rich soil, and the season is a wet one so as to dissolve a great amount of food. If any one doubts the correctness of this view, he can satisfy himself by a few week experiment in the month of •lime. A tree may be phmted in front of a barn-yard, in any rich spot where it will receive the wash ings of manure. I.very twig on it will soon take on a whorled appearance. Let the earth then be all removed from the roots and its place supplied with yellow loam, and in a few weeks more the twigs will shoot off', and make a more healthy appearance. 1 have tried the experiment on young pear trees, with un varying results. ' 01.1 cherry trees cannot be surfeited. but old apple trees may lie. 1 have seen an old apple orchard seriously injured by a heavv coat of manure spaded in. In August the whole orchard presented the appearance of haying been nipped hy frost: the top of every twig having a I.luck appearance on the top wf a cluster of miserable looking leaves.'—Cul tivator. J. w. PARKER, Attorney at Law, Lewistown, Mifflin ro. Pa. GEO. VT. ELIDES,, Attorney at Law, Of t ICE in West Marketstreet,opposite Eisen bise's Hotel, will attend to any business in the courts of A1 i til in, Centre, or Huntingdon conn ties. Lewistown, Jan. 23, 1852. MAGISTRATE'S OFFICE CHKivnw iioo vi;h, J list IIP of the Peace, CI AN be found at his office, in the room re- J centiy occupied by J). YV. Uuling, Esq. where he will attend to all business entrusted to him with the greatest carc and despatch. l)Ii.t.\V.ilALK OFFERS his professional services to the citizens of Lewistown. He can be con sulted at all times at the Bee Hive Drug store. Lewistown, August 30, l*so-tf THE undersigned continues to manufacture celebrated Quilted and French calf Boots, together with all articles connected with his business. MOSES MONTGOMERY. Lewistown, August 8, 1851-tf JOHN CLARK & CO. HAVE removed their Shoe Store from bp low Eisenbise's to the diamond, opposite the Lewistown Hotel. Having renewed their g|Sl st ock, they are now prepared to make to order all kinds of BOOTS AND SHOES in the best manner and of the best materials. They have also a choice assort ment of city and eastern work to which they invite the attention of the citizens of Lewis town and vicinity, as they are determined to sell at the very lowest prices for cash. Lewistown ; April 23, 1852. BILLY JOHNSON'S Cheap Boot, Shoe A Cloth iiss Store. TTAYING returned from the city with a large stock of the above mentioned ar ticles, he is prepared to sell low for cash: Mens Calf Boots, from $1 75 to tjkti 0 > Coarse " " 1 25 to H 00 *' Gaiters and fancy shoes of different kinds. Ladies' Shoes, from 50 to 1 50 " Gaiters, best quality, 1 5(1 to 2 00 Misses' and Childrens' Gaiters, of different kinds. He is also prepared to make to order all kinds of BOOTS, SHOES and GAITERS that may be wanted. His stock of CLOTHING has been well selected. It was bought for cash and will be sold at very small profits. Cull and examine for yourselves, and you will be convinced of the jact. ap23 BILLY JOHNSON. liAISTIVS SELF REGULATING SEWING MACHINE. BA the use of this Machine one person can do as much sewing, and make belter work than live or si* can do by hand. Tailors, Saddlers, Si c., look to your interest. Ma chines, Shop and County Rights forsale. Apply to JOHN LOCKE, Lewistown, until February 10th, after that at Lewisburg, Union county, Pennsylvania. P. S. One of these Machines may be seer, in oper ation at C M. rSm t.L'B Taitor-shop in this place. JOHN LOCKE. Lewistown, January 16,1852 —tf Fish. Salt, and Plaster, TTOR sale by "JOHN STF,BRETT & CO., June 27,-tf At the Lewistown Mills. 11 rushes. .'Hjll stock, which is large and selected with A Jr reference to the wants of the community, comprises ail kinds of Blacking, Scrubbing, Horse. Sweeping, Dusting, Hair, Clothes, Ta ble, In ant, Wall, Puint, and Varnish Brushes, at reduced prices tor cash. may2l K. J. HOFFMAN,