®£©o !HB"SrfflßJ©ai£ S> SKBSJa ffgiSMKsigiißiagg Whole No. 2791. Lewistown Post Office. Mails arrive and close at the Lewistown P. 0. as follows: ARRIVE. Eastern through, 5 48 a. m. " through aßd way 421p m. Western " " " 10 55 a. m. Bellefonre " " " 2 30p.m. Northumberland, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, 6 00 p. m. CLOSE. Eastern through 8 00 p. m. " " and way 10 00 a. m. Western " " 315 p. m. Bellefonte 8 00 Northumberland (Sundays, Tueesdays and Thursdays) 8 00 p. m. Money can be forwarded through this of fice in sums from 31 to S3O, by the payment of the following fees: From $1 to $lO ten cents; $lO to S2O fifteen cents; S2O to S3O twenty cents. Office open from t 00 a. m. to Bp. m. Un Sundays from Bto9 am. S. COMFORT, P. M. Lewistown Station. Trains leave Lewistown Station as follows: Westward. Eastward. Piitsburgh and Erie Express, 313 a. ra. 914 p. m. Baltimore Express, 4 48 a. in. Philad'a Express, 548a. m. 12 18 a. m. Fast Line, 610 p. m. 526 " Mail. 4 21 " Fast Mail, 10 55 Harrisburg Accom'n, 3 44 p. m. Emigrant, 10 47 a. m. Through Freight, 10 20 p. m. 120a m. y as t " 350a. m. 930 " Express " 12 10 p.m. 12 40 p.m. Stock Express, 500 p. m, 924 " Coal Train. 115 p.m. 1150 a.m. Union Line, 7 30 " Local Freight, 730a. m. 700 p. m. Omnibuses convey -passengers to tnd from all the trains, taking up or setting them down at all points within the borough limits. WILLIAM LIND, has now open A NEW STOCK OF Cloths, Cassimeres AND VESTINCS, which will be made up to order in the neat est and most fashionable styles. apl9 AMBROTYPES AND The Clems of the Season. THIS is no humbug, but a practical truth The pictures taken by Mr. Burkholdcr are unsurpassed for BOLDNESS. TRUTH FULNESS. BEAUTY OF FINISH, and DURABILITY. Prices varying according to size and quality of frames and Cases. Room over the Express Office. Lewistown, August 23, 1860. Kishacoquillas Seminary AND NORMAL INSTITUTE. YT T ILL commence its winter session. OC IT TOBER 12, 1864, and continue twen ty weeks. Cost for Board, Furnished Rooms, and Tuition in English Branches, $75. Fuel, Light and Washing extra. For particulars see catalogue. S. Z. SHARP, Principal. Kishacoquillas, Sept. 21, 1864. Aeademia, Juniata Co., Pa, COMMENCES its Summer Term May 4th, 1864. For circulars address Mrs. 0. J. FRENCH, Principal, or ANDREW PATTERSON, Proprietor. ap6 1864—1y w? iik, wisaimsk Real Estate Agent, Collector and County Surveyor, LEWISTOWN, FA. OFFICE in the Court House, opposite the Commissioners' Office. sepl4-tf CrEO. 7T. ELIDES,, Attorney at Law, Office Market Square, Lewistown, will at tend to business in Mifflin.Centre and Hunting don counties my 26 Lock Repairing, Pipe Laying, Plumbing and White Smithing IMIE above branches of business will be . promptly attended to on application at the residence of the undersigned in Main street, Lewistown. janlO GEORGE MILLER. CARPENTERS. SELIIEIMER'S is the place to buy the best and cheapest Hand, Rip, Tennant, Com pass and Cross Cut Saws; Planes, Bite, Ham mers, Hatchets, Squares, Rules, Chisels, Au gurs, Augur Bitta, Drawing Knives, Spoke' shaves. Bevels, and all other Tools in your has. The carpenters all buy at J. B. SELHEIMER'S. Saddlery Ware. LARGE stock of saddlery ware constant ly on hand, consisting in part of Saddle Trees, Pad Trees. Hao>ea, Buckles, Rings, snaps, Terrets. Swivels, Stirrups, Bridle Bits, jacks, Awls, Needles, Thread, Hair, Patent Leather, and a variety of other articles, for sal * J. B. SELHEIMER. C Builders and Farmers AN find anything in their line, such as Locks, Screws, Hinges, Bolts, Glass, f'utty. Nails. Spikes, trace, breast, halter, log and other Chains, Forks, Shovels, Spades, flies, and all other goods used in the build ing and farming business, for sale at J. B. BELHEIMER'S. THE iMHREL GOLDEN GATES. Oh golden gates, might I but catch One gleam of shining bars f Might I but touch the jewelled door That swings beyond the stars! A weary pilgrim, toiling on Through mists of mortal sin, Oh, might I speak the blessed word Would give me entrance in. So thought I, as the sunset hues In the far west grew dim, Vain longing for some path of light To lead the soul to Him. There were cloudy pillars blazing With glory of the sun; Thero were tints of rose and amber When summer's day was done. And I saw them paling, fading, Till stars caught up their light; But the golden gate was hidden Away from mortal sight. Then I called through misty shadows, I could no longer wait: " Oh. beautiful angel keepers, Show me the blessed gatel " I tread dark places of the earth, I weary of the strife; Oh, white-robed angels, bear me up Into that holy life." Down floating through the solemn night, Came spirit tones to me: "Thy way is dark! But gates of gold Are waiting there for thee. " Unseen, they swing in every heart, All sin-stained though it be. Rouse ye to deeds of love and faith 1 The Master biddeth thee. Thou mayest chiine sweet golden bells Through souls now lost in sin, So shalt thou walk in white, at last, So shait thou enter in." No more I seek at set of sun Gleaming of golden gate; Yet somewhere in the future hid, The watching angels wait. Oh, golden gates, ye shine for me Sometimes, through shadows dim, Yet through your portals winds my path Onward and up to Him. For the Educational Column. Books. Hardly any other gift of haman ingenu ity awakens so distinct a consciousness of gratitude as do books. And it is proof of man's grandeur of nature, that while he cannot eat or wear them, cannot indeed de rive any immediate physical benefit or plea sure from them, still he mukes and reads them by myriads. Books are a positive token of man's immaterial nature; for, when absorbed in the ideas that their words suggest, he is out of his senses, lre quently with twofold truth. Of the many uses that books serve, the principal are, to haud down from one gen eration to those that shall follow, a record of its acts, its philosophy, its religion—in other words to perpetuate the remembrance of the world's activities, which constitute History. The second use of books is to enable the thinker to speak to the whole world the thoughts which long meditation has won for him, to impress his truth upon the minds of all. These two uses seem to indicate the general benefits that books confer; and in these will be found an abun dance of causes for thankfulness. Who does not rejoice that the style of life which prevailed in Persia, Greece, or Rome, hun dreds of years ago, can be known and un derstood by us? Who is not glad to look, through the telescope that books offer, back td the days when men lived in rough dis regard of one another's rights, when every difficulty was satisfactorily settled by an appeal to the god of battles, and to clubs and fists; when Fashion was yet very young and not superlatively dainty about the cut of her dress or the far-backwardness of her bonnet, when men's manners were as rough as their faces which no tear compelling ra zor ever marred? It is no small privilege to be able to know the miserable sufferings that ignorance and selfishness have produ ced, the blessed influence some benignant soul has exerted, the grandeur of charac ter a few have gained—from these we can more justly estimate the responsibilities and wonderful possibilities of Life. Nor is it small joy to follow the glowing path some fiery spirit haa trod, to grasp thoughts which cause the breast to swell with the unutterable consciousness of immortality He is much to be pitied who either cares not, or is unable, to read. The earth and sky may, indeed, be as beautiful to him as to any, but Be loses the marvelous wealth that books contain; he hears not the sweet story of ancient faith and honor; he walks not beside the Tiber, or the or the Thames, and sees not the civiliza tions that flourished there; he lives only in the narrow present, the far stretching halls of the past he never treads. The noble lives that have been lived are unblest to him; the music that floats through centu ries and through all lauds, charming the soul of him who reads intelligently, awa kens no emotion of gladness in him. After all, books are good only as we rightly use them. If we throw away our own judgment and conscience in reading them, ami accept without question whatev er they assert, we derive only harm from them. The duty of vigorous self reliance, of hearty, independent thought, is not less but more imperative when we converse with others, wiser than we perhaps, in WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1864. books they have written. As Sancho said of sleep, so say I of books: 'Blessed be the man who invented books.' S. TOIi&IKEIEHEI MILLY DEAN AND THE ROBBER. On a distant prairie, at nightfall, a way worn and weary traveller was overtaken by a snow storm. When the first few flakes came softly drooping down be looked eag erly around in the hope of discerning a place of shelter, bat none was to be seen, only the trackless waste of rolling lands and far-off hills in the direction whither he was going, so far off that he feared he never should reach them. With the departure of light, the snow fell faster, the wind blew keener, the road over the prairie was soon hidden from view, and the traveller felt that he was lost on a trackless waste, with out a star to guide him across the danger ous country. 'This is terrible !' said he aloud. 'lf I had but a compass and a light, I should not fear, for I could resist the effects of cold long enough to reach the hills, and there I should find human habitations, or at least the shelter of a rock. Now I may go in a circle till I freeze, and be no nearer help. What a fool I was to leave the river side and cross the prairie just for the sake of a few miles more. But I must battle it out now —Heaven help me !' He drew his cap down over his ears and brow, and his fur collar up over his mouth, and thrusting bis bands deeper in his pock ets, pressed on through the yielding suow. The gloom increased, the wind came sharper, and through his heavy clothes the traveller began to feel the effects of the cold. His feet grew numb, his arms chilled, and after an hour's rapid walking, he suddenly paused. 'How do I know whither I am going? he exclaimed, 'Perhaps I have already turned aside from the straight line, and am wan dering on the verge of destruction. Oh ! that I could shake off this drowsy feeling that is stealing over me ! I know what it is—the precursor of a rest in this cold wind ing sheet of snow. Great Heaven, lam freezing to death!' shrieked he, bounding forward with renewed energy. 'Action, action, action is life, and life is too sweet to lose yet!' He hurried along with a springing mo tion; stamping his feet vigorously at every step, and swinging his arms to keep the blood in circulation! Yet with all these efforts he knew that the angel of death was folding his wings silently around him. 'Despair not'! he cried, 'not while the memory of loved wife and dear children is left to me. I will struggle on for your sakes, and fight the storm fiend to the last. O just Heaven ! for the sake of the inno cent ones whose only stay is my right arm, help me to resist, help me to triumph !' At this moment he plunged into a hol low, and he heard the voice of a streamlet singing beneath its icy crest. At the same time the smell of wood-smoke saluted his nostrils. '0 Thou who reignest above!' he ejacu lated, 'I thank thee that thou hast heard ray prayer. Help is Dear me ' He moved heavily onward through the blinding snow, aud saw just before hiin a low shed, one more struggle, and he fell against it. In an instant he divined its character. With a last desperate effort he found the door, threw it open, and reeling in, flung himself at full length upon the floor, kuowing only that it was an atmos phere reeking with the fumes of bacon, and warm with the smoke which rose from a pan of smothering coals in the centre of the plucc. It was a settler's rude smoke house, left to care for itself during the long winter's night, and the traveler's grate ful heart sent up a tribute to heaveu for this place of refuge in the desert of snow. In a large log cabin in the valley of the streamlet, Milly Dean sat alone. Her hus band bad gone to a distant town, and the young wife was left with her baby Accus tomed to the solitude, she felt safe, sat in contentment, before the blazing fire; the flames leaped joyfully up the chimney, and the green logs sizzled and crackled in the heat like things of life. Outdoo.s the wind was howling drearily, and the snow falling heavily; but Milly eared not, for it only made the fire more cheerful. A loud rap at the door. 'How strange! Who can that be at our door in this wild night ?' she said to herself, as she rose and went into the little entry. The rap was repeated. 'Who is there' she asked. 'tor heaven s sake, let me in, I am freez ing to death !' was the reply. 'YY ho are you? and how came you in this lonely place on such an evening as this?' 'I am a traveler from below; I lost my way, and am dying with cold. For pity's sake, let me in or I shall perish!' Milly hesitated. She was alone, and it was three miies to the nearest neighbor's. What was she to do? She paused in per plexity. 'Oh! save me, save me! I am dying!' There was a heavy fall against the sill and then low moans. Her woman nature could stand DO more; true to the instincts of her being, she unbarred the door and threw it open A closely-muffled figure reeled by her into the room, and shutting the door she followed. On reaching the fire-place, the stranger threw off his disguise, and stood erect and strong, without a sign of incon venience from the effects of the weather. Milly retreated from him in amazement; but recovering herself, and putting the best face on the matter, she tremulously addressed the man: 'I am sorry sir, you are so cold. It is a bitter night to be abroad Will you not sit by the fire?' and she pushed a chair for ward The man made no response, but stooping over ran his fingers through the blaze; then he turned and stared at her a with a look which made her blood run cold. A bright thought came into her mind. She would pretend there were others in the house, for she had already felt afraid of the man, and bitterly regretted having admitted him. 'Would you like to see some of the men folks, sir?' she inquired. 'lf so, I will call them from their beds.' The man laughed hoarsely, and replied. 'Milly Dean, for that I believe is your name, you cannot deceive me. You are all alone in this house. I took particular care to ascertain that before I came. So you may as well make yourself easy on that score, and do as I bid you.' Do as you bid me?' exclaimed Milly, in terror; 'what do you want of me.' 'I want the twelve hundred dollars in gold your husband received for his produce two days ago. You probably know where it is.' Milly sprung into the entry and would have fled, but the stranger caught her by the wrist, and dragged her roughly back. 'You can not escape me, young woman, he said. You will find it most convenient to make a clean breast of it at once. It will be better for you.' Milly strove to release her arm. The rough treatment she received aroused her temper, and indignation overcame all other feelings. 'Let me go, you scoundrel, let me go, or I will call for help,' she cried. 'Call, you fool,' said the brutal fellow, 'and much good may it do you Keep yourself still, and tell me where the money 'I will not!' she exclaimed, her eyes flash ing fire. 'You will not!' he replied, 'we shall see.' He released her wrist so violently that she reeled half across the room. Then he seized the sleeping infant from its cradle, and held it, arm's-length, almost into the blazing fire, so that the terrified mother ex pected to see its light garments catch the flame. 'Now, then, where is the money? Speak out quick, or I will burn your baby to death before your eyes.' 'Monster, give me my child,' shrieked Milly, endeavoring to reach the little one. Let me have my baby.' But every effort was frustrated, for pgain and again the strong haud of the robber thrust her back. 'See, its clothes will be on fire in a min ute,' said the man, putting the helpless in nocent closer to the flame. The mother looked into bis eyes, and saw there looks of heartless determination. The cotton garments of the child were smoking with the fceat. 'How shall it be?' asked the rnffian. 'Hurry, or the child dies. I have no time to waste here.' 'Any thing, any thing, only give me my child !' she cried. The next instant it ws handed to her and she sank upon the floor and folded it too her bosom. 'Come,' exclaimed the man, touching her rudely with his foot, 'you have not told me where the money is.' 'ln the box on the upper shelf,' she said pointing to the closet. The man found the box, placed it on the table, and opened it, saying : 'So far, well. It is nearly all gold. I will pocket it with your leave or without your leave, just as you please.' He filled bis pockets with the golden coin, and threw the empty box into the fire. Then he came and stood beside her. 'Put your baby in the cradle,' he said,'if you wish to save its life. I have other business for you.' 'What do you mean?' cried Milly, eyeing tbe man with suspicion. 'Let me have him,' he said, trying to take it. 'No, no, I will put the baby in the cradle myself. You shall not touch the poor little thing. Now, sir,' she continued, almost choking with excitement,'what is it?' Af ter having laid the pretty infant on ita downy place to rest, she stood erect and waited tho reply. 'I am going to kill you!' said the man. •Kill me !' she exclaimed, her face grow ing pale with terror. 'Kill me ! what have I ever done to you that you should kill me ?' 'Nothing nothing, only you know you have seen me, and you will koow me again/ And be adyanced upon her. '0 sir! let me live. Have you not done enough to take my husband's money with out depriving him of his wife too? I will never say one word against you, if you will only spare me —only spare me.' MSWHffiSFffiWSJsi SffIEKFE&SJ SKi.'JSJS'Z'a IKESTSJo As she spoke, she clasped her hands, and looked imploringly at him. 'I am sorry that I cannot safely grant your request,' he responded. 'There is no help tor it, so come along out of doors. He reached out his hand to grasp Milly. But the instinct of self-preservation was strong upon her. She evaded him, flew to the chimney, snatched her husband's load ed rifle from the hooks on which it hung cocked and presented it at the beast of the robber. Her motions was so rapid that be fore he could prevent it, her finger had pressed the trigger, and there was an ex plosion. But with equal readiness the man had stepped aside, and the ball had passed over his head, and the next instant his grip was on her throat. 'I will teach you to handle arms,' he said. 'You would have killed me, would you? I will show you a trick worth two of that.' 'Merey, mercy!' cried the terrified wo man. 'There is no mercy for you,' he ejacula ted, dragging her into the entry, and fling ing open the door. 'Out with you into the snow.' 'Hold! what is this?' exclaimed a deep toned voice. 'Unhand that woman, you scoundrel' A powerful man stood in the door-way, and dealt the robber a blow between the eyes, which struck bim back into the entry. His grasp of Milly was relinquished, and she fell to the floor. 'O sir! save me,' she cried. 'This man has robbed us, and would murder me, that I might not tell of it.' 'Fear not, madarae, be shall not harm you,' responded the stranger. 'Fellow, surrender yourself ' 'Get out of my way,' cried the robber, making a rush for the door, and striking at the stranger with a bowie knife. Recoiling a few steps, the stranger seized the robber by the collar, whirled him around, and threw him on his face in the 6now. The robber struggled, but the stranger knelt heavily on the small of his baok,and grasped his hair. 'Lie still,' said the stranger, 'or I will send a bullet through your brain.' The robber lelt the cold barrel of a pis tol at his ear, and obeyed. Milly quickly brought ropes at her rescuer's request, aud the robber was bound band and toot. 'lt was a strange providence, the new comer said, 'overtook me with a snowstorm on the prairie, and forced me an hour ago to take refuge in your smoke-house, uearly dead with cold. Milly felt the truth of the remark, and falling on her knees she thauked her Fath er in heaven for her deliverance. The next day Milly's husband came home, and when he had been told all, he remarked : 'This fellow was at the tavern at the vil lage the day I sold my produce. It will teach me a lesson, never to let strangers know when money is plenty with me, lest they be tempted to crime, and bring ruin on me and mine.' That day Borne sixty or seventy men gath ered at the house of Mr. Dean. The rob ber was recognized as a notorious horae thief, who had long infested the neighbor hood. There was a summary trial, and then in dogged silence, the wretch who wouln have burned a harmless infant and murdered a faithful and gentle woman, submitted to his inevitable fate. A rudely constructed gallows and a stout rope ended his existence. So, on the thinly-settled frontiers of the West, do they meet out justice to offenders against property and life. There were about seventeen hundred dollars in bills found on the person of the robber besides the gold he had taken from Mrs. Dean. As there was no claimants for the bills, at the suggestion of the stranger whose life had been saved by the shelter of the smoke house, and who at the report of the rifle had rushed in the direction of the Bound, a thousand dollars of the seventeen hundreds were presented to Milly in con sideration of what she had passed through, and the remainder was divided around. On that very spot there is now a thriving town, and one of the finest residences of the place is that where dwells Milly Dean and her husband. Singular Wagers. A gentleman in Twenty third street, N. Y., for his faith in McClellan's popularity, will have to make an equestrian tour of the I Central Park, some Suuday, at noon, array ed in criooline, and all the.other feminine 'fix ins.' To comply with the terms of another bet, a gentleman in Forty first street, N. Y., will have to drive three of his horses tandem, attached to an oyster cart, from the Battery to Macomb's dam. A third gentleman, who lives in Brook lyn, will have to wear for a year a beaver hat, two feet in height and seven inches in the brim. He will run alt to hat before his purgatorial period is over. Christian Kobler, of Chicago, a strong democrat, bantered Peter Kiggets to a wa ger. Riggets consented, and offered in case McClellan was elected to carry Kobler around the public square upon his back, provided Kohler would do tho same for New Series—Volume IX. No. 4. j him if Lincoln was elected. Kohler lost, : and on Monday afternoon, between 1 and j 2 o'clock, accompanied by an extellent band ' of music, he fulfilled the conditions of the bet. Soldiers, policemen and citizens join ed the procession. Two well known oyster dealers of Bos ton made a bet of a barrel of oysters with the condition that they were to be purcha sed in Providence, R. 1., and to be wheel ed in a barrow from that city to Boston by the loser, having the privilege of selecting 'a good day and a good track. A man in Providence, R. 1., who had lost the wager, was seen wheeling a negro boy down street, preceded by another man beating a drum. The terror of the desert of Sahara is being removed by the application of sci ence. In 1860 five wells had been opened, bringing fishes to the surface from a depth of 500 feet. Vegetation is springing up around the wells, and the " desert will blos som like the rose." For the Gazette. Death of Capt. Joseph S. Jenkins. Capt. Jenkins, of Hanover, York coun ty, Pa., was killed on the 6th inst., while on picket in front of Petersburg, Va., by a rebel sharpshooter. The ball entered his forehead, killing him instantly. His re mains have been embulmed and will be sent home. Last Spring, when the 184 th regiment P. V. was being organized, Capt. Jenkins was mainly instrumental in recruiting Co. G, of which he was appoiuted Captain. He served with marked ability and bravery in that capacity, taking part in ail the mar ches and battles iroui Cole Harbor to the time of his death. Major Kleokoer having been wounded at the battle pf Ream's Station, Capt. Jenkins being tljo senior officer then present, assumed com mand of the regiment, and discharged tbe duties of that office with orcdit. At tbe time of his death he was again in com mand of his company. Major Kleckner, (now Lt. C01.,S having recovered from his wounds, had taken com mand of the regiment. Capt. Jenkins was the last of the captains who went out frith the regiment at its organization—the rest having all been wounded and captured. He leaves a wife and four small children to mourn his nntimely death At a meeting of the officers of the regi ment, held on the 7th inst., of which Lt. Col. Kleckner was president and Lieut. S. O. McCurdy secretary, the following pre amble and resolutions were unanimously adopted: WHEREAS, It has pleased Almighty God to suddenly remove from us our much esteemed friend and companion in arms, Capt. Joseph S. Jenkins, Therefore, Resolved, That while we bow in humble submission to the divine decree, we at the same time deeply regret tbe death of our brave companion, who endured tbe march es and battles of a summer campaign, and feel that by his fall another name has been added to the long list of martyrs lor the cause of the Union and freedom. Resolved, That we, as officers fighting in the same cause for which be fell, deeply feel for the bereaved family of the deceas ed, in whose death they have lost an affec tionate husband and a kind father. We tender to them our warmest sympathies, trusting that He who has promised to be a " Husband to the widow and a father to the fatherless" will comfort and sustain them in their sore afflictions. Resolved , That a copy of these proceed ings be sent to the widow of the deceased and another to the several papers tor pub lication. TO PROFESSORS OF MUSIC, AMA TEURS, AND THE MUSICAL PUB LIC GENERALLY. P. A. WUNDERMANN, Foreign and American Music Warehouse, 124 BROADWAY, HAVING on hand the largest stock of Foreign Music in New York, which he exports from Europe expressly to meet the taste and requirements of the American lov ers of Music, respectfully calls attention to tbe fact, that he is now supplying Musio of every style at a reductioo of twenty jive to fif ty per cent, less than any other house in the United States. Private families can be supplied (post free) by forwarding the cash to the above address. Should the amount of cash forwarded exceed the cost of tho Music, the balance will be promptly returned in postage currency. DEALEKS and Professors should not neglect this opportunity: they will be liberally dealt with. N. B.—Any and every piece of Music, vo cal ur instrumental, published in Europe or America, will be supplied to order, if accom panied by tho cash. Remember tbe addrees. P A. WCNDERMANN. Foreign and American Music Warehouse, sep2l.3m 824 New York. OIL CLOTHS. A LARGE assortment of Floor, Stair and Carriage Oil Cloths, of all colors, beat quality, and cheap, at tbe store of J. B. SELHEIMER. Brushes, Brashes. W ALL, Dusting, Sweeping, Hand, Scrub bing and Horse Brushes. Paint Brush es of all sizes. J. B. SELHEIMER.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers