Whole No. 2563.
BLYMYER & STANBARGER.
mm: i COMMISSIOX
lOROKAiraSj
Hear t'anal Basin,
Lewistown, Pa.,
AVill purchase every description of Produce
at current prices.
AI.W A V SOOrN r H AND,
PLASTER, SALT; FISH, STOXE COAL
of assorted SIZES. LIV Eli URXELTS'
D- BLACKSMITHS' COAL.
GEO. BLYMYER,
<lec2 C. C. STANBARGER.
SD& &
■r J Z H J . .Vy/ j J(- vTP
/ AFFICE on Fast Market street, L v.i-tuivn,
* " adjoining K. (. Franciseus' Hardware.
St're. I'. 8. Or. Locke will be at his office
the first Monday of each uioniii to spend the
week. my 31
Dr, Samuel L, Alexander,
TI Has permanently located at Milroy,
varand is prep rod to practice a!! thebranch
tm es of his Profession. Office of. Swine
hart s Hotel. my3-ly
X2k S A XVS/kS.TTST
j-ffHAS. through the solicitati of many
fw friends, iocated in Yewtoji Hamilton in
tM the room of 1-. Atkinson, wi.o gm to
Dwistown. II - hopes by a strict attention to
business to receive the support- and merit the
approbation of a generous c mtmini y. lie
lias the experience of twelve yeare' tegular
practice, in which time !:o lias had an oppor
tunity of treating diseases of almost every
species. Office in dwelling directly opposite
the Presbyterian church. ap!9-3m
EDWARD FRYSINGER,
WHOLESALE DEALER & MAAI FAITI RER
CIIiARS,TOBUCO,BAiW,
<S£C., &.<?.,
Orders promptly attended to. jolG
C?2C. W. EIDER,
Attorney at Law,
•fli Market Square, I.ewistown, will at
tend to business in Mifflin,Centre and Hunting
don counties. ty2ti
Seigrirst's Cid St^nd,
X- IRTHF ' ana! BRIDGE, Leicistoicn, I'A.
•Strong ly •' ~i t agT Beer, Lindenbcger
end >'vit2fr Cheese—all of tiio best quality \
• :.s!,".t;tly on band, for sale wholesale or re
t,i!: ' !
)• i-t to be had daily during summer.
tuVJ-i-yr
JUST RECEIVED
s fv
A SELECT STOCK OF
Boots, Shoes, Gaiters, &c,
f r an a, w •men. boys, and children, which
ire • tiered for sale remarkably low.
J. CLARK,
niylO Opposite the Union House. j
McALISTERVILLE ACADEMY
Juniata County, Pa.
(•EO. F. MCF.IRL.IXD, Principal IF Proprietor.
JACOB MILLER, Prof- of Mathematics, SFC.
MIST .LYME S. CRIST, Teacher of Music, S,-c.
The next session oi' this institution com
mences on the 2Cth of July, to continue 22
weeks. Students admitted at any time.
A Normal Department
ail! be formed which will afford Teachers the
best opportunity of preparing for fall examina
tions.
A NEW APPARATUS has been purchased,
Lecturers engaged, Ac.
I CRMS —Boarding, Room und Tuition, per
•emon. >;">"> to §6O. Tuition alone 3t usual rates.
2-y*Circulars sent free on application.
sxmiilmmar
SX.O-A.T'S
ELiriXC LOU STITCH
SEWING MACHINES.
IMIE subscriber after considerable search
. fur a Sewing Machine for his own use,
aas one of the above now in operation, which
are noted for their simplicity and strength.
They Stitch, Ileni, Bind, Fell and Gatherwith
basting, making the stitch alike on both
sides of the work. They sew equally well
•he lightest and heaviest fabric with any spool
'bread or silk. We feel warranted in recom
Bending them as the very best now in the
Barket for every useful purpose in a family,
for a Dressmaker, Tailor, or Shirt Maker. —
As an evidence of its simplicity Mrs. M ,
without instruction or explanation from any
jD . commenced work on it, and in less than
one week made 10 dresses. 4 pair of pants,
HOR an( ! has not experienced the least
difficulty in its operation. We simply ask all
to look at this machine before purchasing,
a '"i remember these facts. We warrant eve
ry machine, and keep every one in repair.
Ifl® expenses, for one year. Price FIFTY
DOLLARS. Address
j AS. M. MARTIN, Lewistown P. O ,
my24-tf Agent for Mifflin County.
|~!KQCKiSRY WARE—FiDO assortment of
Stone Crockery Ware and Baskets at
"* ' A. FELIX'S.
IPIIIIISJ-'FFISIL <&A@IS<B2IG LHBWNSHHMS* ESSSFSSLIKJ b>&Q
lom&mmoui
HASTE, TRAVELEH, HASTE:
Haste, traveler, haste ! the night comes on,
And many a shining hour is gone;
The storm is gathering in the west.
And thou art far from home and rest.
Haste, traveler, haste,
O, far from home thy footsteps stray;
Christ is the life, and C hrist the way.
And Christ the light. Von setting Sun
Sinks ere the morn is scarce begun.
Haste, traveler, haste.
The rising tempest sweeps the skv;
The ruins descend, the winds are high;
1 he waters swell, and death and fear
Be-set thy path—no refuge near.
Haste, traveler, haste.
O yes. a shelter you may gain,
A covert from the wind and rain—
A hiding pi.-ice, a rest, a home—
A re fuge ir on the wrath to come.
Haste, traveler, haste.
Then linger not in all the plain;
Flee for thy life, the mountain gain;
Look not behind, make no delay;
O speed thee, speed thee on thy way.
Haste, traveler, haste.
Poor, lost, benighted soul, art thou
Willing to find salvation now?
There is yet hope, hear mercy's call' —
Truth, life, light, way, in Christ is all.
Haste, traveler, haste.
Little Trials.
' I can bear the great trials, but it is the
little ones thai chafe and torment inc.'
How yfteii we hear this remark, and ev
erybody s own experience in life will bear
witness to its truth.
! hese little every day, vexing, chafing,
wearing car. -, are what tries the soul, and
eats like a slow rust and silent mildew
among the roots and tender boughs of our
lives. But these too, the little trials of
one's temper, and tenderness, and faith,
are all appointed oi God, for our growth
and blossoming, as the small showers are
sent to the roots of plants, as well as the
long rains.
And as tin' loving mother counts noth
ing mean <•: small, which has any relation
to the well being of her child, so God
takes notice of the burdens we bear ever"
lay, which are like a cloud of small sting
ing insects, poisoning our souls, and dark
ening the air about us !
And as these trials are appointed in
greater or less measure for all, it becomes
us to in. ke our spirits strong, and serene
and brave to meet them, and to receive
them as the traveller does the delays, and
vexations, and ten thousand annoyances
of his journey, knowing they are all ' on
the way,' and will end when he gets home.
So our souls must constantly turn to the
windows looking to the westward, lor over
the mountains which bound their horizon
are the green pastures and the sweet flow
ing waters: and there are no heartaches,
no stings, no throbs of pain, no quick
burnings of temper, no slow wearing of
patience, sucli as make up what we call
in this life 'little trials.'
The Toll-Gate of Life.
We are all on our journey. The world
through which we are passing is in some
respects like a turnpike—all along where
vice and folly have created toll gates for
the accommodation of those who choose to
call as they go —and there are very few of
all the hosts of travellers who do not occa
sionally stop a little at some gjie or other
of them, and pay more or less to the toll
gatherers. Pay more or less, we say, be
cause there is a great variety as well in
the amount as in the kind of toll extracted
at these different stopping places.
Pride and fashion take heavy tolls of
the purse —many a man has become a beg
gar by paying at their gates —the ordinary
rates they charge are heavy, and the road
that way is none of the best.
Pleasure offers a very smooth, delightful
road in the outset; she tempts the travel
ler with many fair promises, and wins
thousands—but she takes without mercy ;
like an artiul robber, she allures till she
gets her victim in her power, and then
strips him of wealth and money, and turns
him off a miserable object, into the worst of
our most rugged road of life.
Intemperance plays the part of a sturdy
villain. Tie is the very worst toll-gatherer
oil the road, for he not only gets from his i
customers their money and their health,
but he robs them ot their very brains.
The men you meet on the road, rugged and
ruined in frame and fortune are his visi
tors.
And so we might go on enumerating
many others that gather toll of the unwa
ry. Accidents sometimes happen, it is
true, along the road, but those who do not
get through at least tolerably well, you
may be sure have been stopping by the
way at some of these places. The plain,
common sense men, who travel straightfor
ward, get through the journey without
much difficulty.
This being the state of things, it be
comes every one, in the outset, if he in
tends to make a comfortable journey, to
take care what kind of company he keeps
in with. We are all apt to do as compan
ions do—stop where they stop, and pay
toll where they pa}'. The chances are ten
to one but our choice in this particular de
cides our fate.
Having paid due respect to a choice of
companions, the next important thing is to
THURSDAY, JULY 19, 1860.
observe how others manage; to mark the
good or evil that is produced by every
course of life—see how those do who
manage weil; by these means you learn.
Be careful of your habits; these make
the man. And they require long and care
ful culture, ere they grow up to a second
nature. Good habits we speak of. Bad
habits are more easily acquired—they are
spontaneous weeds, that flourish rapidly
and rankly, without care or culture.
MumMiEom
THE OLD MAN'S STORY.
A THRILLING SKETCH.
I .shall never forget the commencement
of the temperance reformation. T was a
child at the time, of some ten years of age.
Our home had every comfort, and my kind
parents idolized rue. their only child.
Wine was often on the table, and both my
father and mother gave it to me in the
bottom of the morning glass.
On Sunday at church a startling an
nouncement was made to our people. I
knew nothing of its purport, but there was
much whispering among the men. The
pastor said that on the next evening there
would be a meeting, and an address upon
the evils of intemperance in the use of al
coholic liquors. He expressed himself ig
norant of the object of the meeting, and
could not say what course it would be best
to pursue in the matter.
The subject of the meeting came up at
our table alter the service, and I question
ed my father about it. with all the curious
eagerness of a child. The whispers and
words which had been dropped in my hear
ing, clothed the whole affair with great
mystery to nie, and J. was ail eagerness to
learn the strange thing. My father mere
ly said it was a scheme to unite the Church
and state.
'J he night came, :.nd groups of { eople
gathered on the tavern steps,and 1 heard
the jest and laugh, and saw drunken men
come reeling out of the bar-room.
I urged my father to let me go, but be
at first refus I. Finally, thinking it would
be an innocent gratification of toy curiosi
ty, he put on his hut, and we passed across
the green, to the church. 1 well remem
ber how the people appeared as they came
in, seeming to wonder what kind of an ex
hibition was coming oft.
In the corner was the tavern keeper, and
around him a number of his friends. For
an hour the people of the place continued
to come in, till there was a fair house full.
All were curiously watching the door, and
apparently wondering what would appear
next. The parson stole in and took his
soul behind the pillar under the gallery, as
if doubtful of the propriety of being in
church at all.
Two men finally game in and went for
ward to the altar and took their seats. All
eyes were fixed upon them, and a general
stillness prevailed throughout the house.
The men were unlike in appearance, one
being short, thick set iu his build, and the
other tall and well formed. The younger
had the manner and dress of a clergyman,
a full, round face, and a quiet, good natur
ed look as he leisurely looked around over
the audience.
But my childish interest was all in the
old man. IJis broad, deep chest and unu
sual height looked giant-like as he strode
slowly up the aisle. His hair was white,
his brow deeply seamed with furrows, and
around his handsome mouth, lines of calm
and touching sadness. His eye was black
and restless, and kindled as the tavern
keeper uttered a low jest aloud. His lips
were compressed and a crimson flush went
and came over his pale cheek. One arm
was off above the elbow, and there was a
wide sear over his right eye.
The younger finally arose and stated the
object of the meeting, and asked if there
was a clergyman present to cpen it with a
prayer. Our pastor kept his seat, and the
speaker himself made a short address; at
the conclusion calling upon any one to
make remarks. The pastor arose ucd.er
the gallery, and attacked the position of
the speaker, used the arguments which I
have often heard since, and concluded by
denouncing those engaged in the movement,
as meddlesome fanatics, who wished to
break up the time honored usages of good
society, and injure the business of respec
table men. At the conclusion of his re
marks, the tavern keeper and his friends
got up a cheer, and the current feeling was
evidently against the strangers and their
plan.
While the pastor was speaking, the old
man had leaned forward and fixed his dark
eyes upon him, as if to catch every word.
As the pastor took his seat, the old man
arose, his tall form towering to its symme
try, and his chest swelling as he inhaled
the breath through his thin dilated nostrils.
To nie, at that time, there was something
awe inspiring and grand in the appearance
of the old man as he stood, his full eye
upon the audience, his teeth shut hard and
a silence like that of death throughout the
church.
He bent his gaze upon the tavern keeper
and that peculiar eye lingered and kindled
for half a moment. The scar grew red
upon his forehead, and beneath the heavy
brows his eyes glittered and glowed like a
! serpent's; the fav rn keeper quailed before
; that searching glance, and 1 felt a relief
1 when the old man withdrew his gaze. For
: a moment more he seemed lost in thought,
: and then in a low and tremulous tone he
commenced. There was a depth in that
I voice, a thrilling sweetness and pathos,
j which riveted every heart in the church
1 before the first period had been rounded.
; My father's attention had become fixed
: upon the eye ol the speaker with an intcr
' est I had never before seen him exhibit,
j I can but briefly remember the substance
j of what the oid man said, though thescene
i is as vivid belere me, as any I ever witness
j ed.
j 'My friends ! I am a stranger in your
j village, and I trust may call you friends.
I A new star has arisen, and there is hope in
| the dark night that hangs iike a pall of
: gloom over cur country.'
j With a thrilling depth of voice, the
| speaker continued; 'Oh God. Thou who
j looketh with compassion upon the most cr
! ring of earth's frail children, i thank thee
that a brazen serpent ha;- been lifted upon
: which the drunkard can look and be heal
: ed. That a beacon has burst upon the
j darkness that surrounds him, which shall
j guide back to honor and heaven, the bruis
j ed and weary wanderer.'
It is strange what power there is in some
voices. The speaker's voice was low and
measured, hut a tear trembled in every*
tone, and, before 1 knew why, a tear drop
ped on my band, followed by others like rain
j drops. The old man brushed onefrom his
I eyes and continued :
I ' Men and christians, you have just heard
j that f was a vagrant and Fanatic Tam
not. As God knows my own sad heart, f
came here just to do good. Hear me and
I be just.
, 'I am an old man, standing alone at
! the end of life's journey. There is a deep
! sorrow in my heart and tears in my eyes.
I have journeyed over a dark, boaeonless
| ocean, and all life's brightest hopes have
been wrecked. lam without friends, home
or kindred, on earth, and look with long
ing to the rest of the night ef death.
Without friends, Li .mired or come! It was
I not once so !'
No one could withstand the touching pa
thos of the old man. I noticed a tear
trembling on the lid of. my lather's eye,
and I no longer felt ashamed of niv own.
' So, my friends, it was not so once
Away over the dark waves which have
wrecked my hopes there is a blessed light
of happiness and home. 1 reach again
convulsively for the shrines of household
idols that ooce were mine; now mine are no
more !'
The old man seemed looking away
through vacancy upon some bright vision,
his lips apart and his finger extended. 1
involuntarily turned in the direction where
it was pointed, dreading to see some shadow
invoked by its magic moving.
1 1 once had a mother. With her old
heart crushed with sorrow, site went down
to the grave. 1 once had a wife—a fair,
angel-hearted creature as ever smiled in an
earthly home. Her eye was as mild as a
summer's sky, and her heart as faithful and
true as ever guarded and cherished a hus
band's love. Her blue e) es grew dim as
the floods of sorrow washed away its bright
ness, and the living heart wrung till ev rv
fibre was broken I once had a noble, a
brave and beautiful boy ; but he was driv
en out from the ruins of his home, and my
eld Leail yearns to knuw if he yet lives.
I once had a hale, a sweet, tender blossom;
but those hands destroyed it, and it lives
with one who lovctli children.
' Do not be startled, friends—l am not a
murderer, in the common acceptation of the
term. \et there is a light in ray evening
sky. A spirit mother rejoices over the
return of her prodigal son. The wife
smiles upon him who turns hack to virtue
and honor. The angel-ehild visits me at
night fall, and I feel the hallowing touch
ofi a tiny palm upon n?y feverish cheek.—
My brave boy, if he yet lives, would for
give the sorrowing old man for the treat
ment which sent him into the world and
the blow that lamed him for life. God
forgive me lor the ruin which I brought
upon me and ?nine.'
He again wiped a tear from his eye.
My father watched him with a strange in
tensity, and a countenance unusually pale
and excited by some strong emotion.
' I was once a fanatic, and madly follow
ed the malign light which led me to ruin,
i was a fanatic when I sacrificed my wiie,
children, happiness and home, to the ac
cursed demon of the bowl. I once ador
ed the gentle being whom I wronged so
deeply.
' I was a drunkard. From respectabili
ty and affluence I plunged, into degrada
tion and poverty. I dragged my family
down with me. For years I saw her cheek
pale, and her step grow weary. I left her
alone amid the wreck of her home idols,
and rioted at the tavern. She never com
plained, yet she and the children often
went hungry for bread.
' One New Year's night, I returned late
to the hut where charity had given us a
roof. She was still up shivering over the
coals. I demanded food, but she burst in
to tears and told me there was none. I
fiercely ordered her to get some. She turn
ed her eyes sadly upon me, the tears falling
fast over her pale cheek.
At this moment the child in its cradle
awoke and set up a famished wail, startling
the despairing mother like a serpent's
sting.
' We have no food, James—have had
none for two days. 1 have nothing for the
babe. My once kind husband, must ice
STURW?'
'That sad, pleading face, and those
streaming eyes, and the feeble wail of the
child maddened me, and I—yes, I—struck
her a fierce blow in the face, and she fell
forward upon the hearth. The furies of
hell boiled in my bosom, and with deep in
tensity, as I felt that I had committed a
wrong. 1 had never struck Mary before,
but now some terrible impulse bore me on
and 1 stooped down as well as I could in
my drunken state, and clinched both hands
ia her hair.
'God of mercy,' exclaimed my wife, as
she looked up in my fiendish countenance
' you will not kill us, you will not harm Wil
!-•?,' i .s she sprung to the cradle and grasp
ing him in her embrace. T caught her
again by the hair, and dragged her to the
door, and as I lifted the latch the wind
burst in with a cloud of snow. With a
veil of a fier.d I still di her on, and
hauled her out into the darkness and the
storm. With wild ha, ha, 1 closed the
door and turned the button, her pleading
moans mingling with the wail of the blast
and the sharp cry of her babe. But my
work was not complete. T turned to the
little bed where lay my older on. and
snatched b:m from his slumbeis, and
again>t his hail'-awakened struggles, open
ed the door and threw him out. In aenii\
of fear lie called me by a name 1 was no
longer fit to bear, and locked his little iin
gers in my side pocket. I could not
wrench that frenzied grasp away, and with
the coolness oi a devil as I was, shut the
door upon his arm, and with my knife sev
ered the writ 1'
The speaker ceased a mom. :.f, and buri
ed his face in his hands, as if to shut out
some fearful dream, and his deep chest
heaved like a storm swept sea. My father
had arisen from his seat and was leaning
forward, his countenance bloodless, and the
large drops standing out upon his brow.—
Chills crept back to my heart, and 1 wish
ed I was at home. The old man looked up,
and 1 have never since beheld such mortal
agony pictured upon a human face as there
was on his.
' It wa- morning when I awoke, and the
storm had ceased, but the cold was intense.
I first secured a drink of water, and then I
looked in the accustomed place for Mary.
As 1 missed her, for the first time, a shad
owy sense of some horrible nightmare be
gan to dawn upon my wandering mind. I
thought I had dreamed a fearful dream, but
involuntarily opened the outside door with
shuddering dread.
AP the door openeu the snow buret in,
followed by a Fall of something across the
threshold, scattering the cold snow, and
striking the floor with a hard sharp sound.
My blood shot like red-hot arrows through
my veius, and I rubbed ray eyes to shut out
the sight. It was—it—God, how terrible!
it was my own injured Mary and her babe,
frozen to ice ! The ever true mother had
bowed herself over the child to shield it,
and had wrapped all her own clothing
around it, leaving her own person stark and
bare to the storm. Sine had placed her hair
over the face of the child, and the sleet
had frozen it to the white cheek. The frost
was white in its half open eyes, and upon
its tiny fingers. I know not what became
of my brave boy.
Again the old man bowed his head and
wept, and all that were in the house wept
with him. In tones of low and heart-bro
ken pathos the old man concluded.
' I was arrested, and for long months I
raved in delirium. I awoke, was sentenced
to prison for ten years, but no tortures
could equal those endured within my own
bosom. Oh, God! no! fam not a fanat
ic; 1 wish to injure no one. But while 1
live, let me strive to warn others not to en
ter the path which has been so dark and
fearful a one to me. I would see my angel
wife and children beyo.nd this vale of
tears.'
The old man sqt down, but a spell as
deep and strange as that wrought by some
wizard's breath rested upon the audience.
Hearts could have been heard in their beat
ings. and tears to fall. The eld man then
asked the people to sign the pledge. My
father leaped from his seat and snatched at
it eagerly. I had followed him, as he hes
itated a moment with the pen in the ink;
a tear fell from the old man's eyes upon the
paper.
' Sign it, young man, sign it. Angels
would sign it. I would write my name ten
thousand times in blood, if it would bring
back my loved ones.'
My father wrote ' MORTIMER HUDSON.'
The old man looked, wiped bis tearful
eyes and looked again, his countenance al
ternately flushed with red and a death-like
paleness.
' It is—no, it cannot be, yet how strange,'
muttered the old man. ' Pardon me, sir,
but that is the name of my own brave
boy.'
My father trembled and held up bis left
arm, from which the hand h d been sever
ed. They looked for a moment in each
other's eyes, both reeled and gasped —
' My OWD injured boy !'
New Series—Vol, XIV, No, 36.
' My father
They fell upon each other till it seemed
their souls would grow and mingle into one.
| There was weeping in that church, and I
turned bewildered upon the streaming fa
ces around me.
' Let use thank God for this great bles
sing, which has gladdened my guilt bur
thened soul,' exclaimed the old man,
1 and kneeling down, poured out his heart in
one of the most melting prayers I ever heard.
The spoil was broken, and all eagerly sign
ed the pledge, slowly going to their homes,
as if loth to leave the spot. The old
man i- dead, but the lesson he taught his
grandchild on the knee, as his evening
i sun went down without a cloud, will never
Ibe forgotten. His fanaticism has lost
none of its tire in iny manhood's heart.
Tragedy In lowa--Heartless Butchery
of a Whole Family-
The following account of a horrible af
i fur which has already been noticed by tel-
I egraph, is furnished by a correspondent of
I the Chicago Journal:
BURLINGTON. lowa, July ?.
We have just learned of the butchery of
j a woman and her two children a short dis
tance northwest of Batavia Station, on the
Burlington and Missouri R. I!., in Jefl'er
i son county. Their dead and mutilated
I bodies were discovered on Saturday by a
I fishing party, in Cedar Creek, into which
1 they had been thrown by the murderer
: The murder probably was perpetrated four
or five days previous to the finding of the
bodies. The vu.nun was about tb rty years
; of age and had two term ie gashes on her
> i rcboa 1, evidently cut by an axe, and her
| skull was broken One of the children is
la little buy about five years of age; his
| head is also terribly cut and the skull
, broken. The other is a little girl about
i three years of age ; her head was also badly
i mutilated.
Hon. Win. K Alexander, Judge of Jef
j ferson county, immediately offered a re
: ward of 8200 for the arrest of the murder
; or who is suspected to be her real orrepu
j ted husband, named Ivepharr, his victims
j being from Muscatine, and known by the
| name of Willis. They were going west
ward as emigrants, in ox teams, and it is
! supposed that the fiend becoming tired of
the woman and her children, murdered
I them to get rid of them. It has been as
; certained that the bloody deed com
j J. .it Gddyville, thirty miles distant
j from the place where the bodies were
| found, the murderer having conveyed the
i corpses that distance to dispose of them.
It is not known as yet whether he had any
associates in the crime, but it is believed
that he had at least one assistant.
Parties immediately went in pursuit of
Kephart, and on Sunday night they over
took and captured him in Missouri, and
brought him to Fairfield, the county seat
of* Jefferson, win re he is now in jail. The
excitement against him is intense.
P. S.—lf turns out that Kephart had no
accomplice. James Harvey Willis, a boy,
and a son of the murdered woman, was
found in the wagon with the murderer
when arrested. This boy relates the whole
story. He says Kephart poisoned his
lather, William Willis, to death with
strychnine, last fall, and that be has been
living with his (the boy's) mother, Mrs
Willis, ever since. They were now on
their way to Kansas. At Kddyville, the
b y says, his mother and little brother and
sister went to sleep in the wagon on lasts
Thursday evening, and in tho morning ha
woke up and found her dead, and gashes
cut in her skull. When the children got
out of the wagon the heartless wretch
caught the two youngest and murdered
■ heui with an axe. lie then placed the
bodies in the wagon and drove thirty miles,
to Cedar (.'reek, where he threw them in
'the water, and tried to keep them unde;
by throwing a heavy log upon them. —
' Murder will out,' however. This Kcp
hart is a man about GO years old
looking over the proceedings of
the Ohio Sunday School Convention, we
find the following resolution, offered by
Mr. Smith, a pious and promising young
lawyer:
Resolved, that a committee ol ladies and
gentlemen he appointed to raise children
for the Sabbath School.
Major Elbow thinks that rather anequi
vocal resolution.
Lyon's Pure Ohio
CATAWBA III!Dill.
TIIE want of realbj pure Brandy has
lon 1 * fait in tlifa country, und the opportuni
ty to procure an article of such quality as to super
sVde th<- -ale and use of the many viie compounds so
often sold under thy name of Brandy can be regard
ed onlv as a great public good. The ( atawha Brandy
possesses all the choice qualities of the best imported
liquor, and is positively known to be of perfect puri
ty and of superior flavor. As a beverage the pure ar
ticle is a remedy for Dyspepsia. Flatulency. Cramp.
Colic. Languor, Low Sp tits. General Debility, At., Ae.
Physicians who have used it in their practice and who
have been practicing twenty-six years sneak of it in
the most flattering terms, as will be seen by reference
to numerous letters and cc-rtitieates.
Sole Agent for its sale in Mifflin county.
CHARLES RITZ.
sepls-eolom Lewistown, Pa.
ClON FECTIONERIES, Crackers, Cheese,
) Nuts, Fancy Baskets, Umbrellas, and
hundreds of other matters are always to be
had at ZERBE'S.
HONEY, by the gallon, for sale by
decj.6 A. FELIX.