®£©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.