& S3 (Eh> lEo 2PT2nßEjffiS2Ei|!i£g 3 Whole No. 2877. Poor House Business. I The Directors of the Poor meet at the Poor i ■jj-.jse on the iff Tuesday of each month. Kishacoqullias Seminary ■ normal school. H_.ir summer Session at this institution will begin j ■j"br.; 1 -'>o. and continue 20 weeks. Cost for j Hscfc'i !"' r -c.-sion. $75. Day scholars, sl2. . ,! attention paid to Normal Class this session ■RV-.-unee of the County Superintendent is ex- ; Ft particulars address H arfl-sni S.Z. SHARP, Principal. GEO. W. ELDE3,, Attorney at Law, I ofice Market Square, Lewistown, will at* ■ lend to business in J'ltflin. Centre and Hunting | Idea counties mv2t> DENTIST. ■I) Lewi-: wn and vicinity. All in want of good,neat '. it: i tlo well to give him a call. ■ te m.iv be found at all times at his office, three ■ R - vast of 0. M. A R. Pratt's store, Valley street. I M. R' THOMPSON, D. D. S. | mVING perman-ntly located in Lewistown. offers 1 11 professional services to the ladies and gentle men of this place and viein .YeY. lty. Being in possession oi' all the. late improve- I \ tnents in the Deritai Profi s ■ur ~ . I WP'M'ff- y he can give entire satisfac ■ l '" n to t b""'' wh< may need ■ wl | his services in all branches I of his profession. Refer- I near Eis< *s hotel, Hv'-c'e !;• ' .c.i be found far professional consultation m t'j i the ;<•!-; .ifniJav of each month until the fourth B ■ C e,. uiu week. may 10-tl 1866. ■NEW GOODS! NATHANIEL KENNEDY'S STORE, In the Odd Fellows' Hall. TUST received from Philadelphia, a J very choice assortment of Ginghams, Flannels, Cheeks, Hickory. Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods of ail kinds. ALSO, Sugars, Coffees, Tens, Chocolate, Essences of Coffee, Oueensware. Stone- Ivrare. Hardware and Cedarware, Shoul ders, Hams, Mackerel, Herring, Shad, Boots and. Shoes. (Grain Bags. Also, a fine lot of Whisky, B It A A 1> Y , Wine and Gin, SALT, Ac., &c., &c. which will be sold very low. Country Produce taken it exchange for goods <>y 1 N. KENNEDY. Lewsitown, October 11, 18C5. I Lewistown Mills. TIIE RICHEST CASH PRICES Filß WHEAT, AX!) ALL RINDS OF GRAIN, I or received it on storage, at the option of those I having it for the market. They hope, by giving due and personal at [ tentii-n to business, to merit a liberal share of I public patronage. Isd" PL ASTER, SALT and Limeburncrs I COAL always on hand WM. R McATEE & SON. I Lewistown, Jan. 1, 1865.-tf WHAT'S ALL THIS ? [ Why, the Grain Business Reviv ed at McCoy's old Stand. I r FHE undersigned, having rented the large I X and commodious Warehouses formerly I occupied by Frank JtfoOoy, esq., is now pre I pared to purchase or receive and forward All Kinds of Grain, I for which he will pay market prices. Also, I be will keep for sale, Salt, Plaster, Coal & I Fish- I He returns thanks to all his old customers I for their former patronage, and shall feel j I grateful for a renewal of past business rela- ! I tious. He has also accepted the agency for | the celebrated J/erchants will find it to their advantage to give him a call marß-ly WM. WILLIS. NEW BOOT & SHOE STOfiR IN THE WEST WARD. ike undersigned b:isjiiM opened a new and large S'.o'k Ol BOOTS uud SHOES in M:jo; Buoy'.- ftor<* room. West Marks! street. Lewistown a lew ■ doors from the diamond and opposite EisenbiseV Hi>- I tel. where will found an entire new stock of Fa<h- I icnable BOOTS, SHOES, GAITERS, SLIPPERS, cfcCL, for Ladies, Gentleman, Girls, Bovs, and Children se- I lected with much care, and which will b>- sul tati r a- I sonablc prices for cash. Custon work will also be punctually attended to, _ tins branch being tinder the superintendence of Wm. IT. Wenta. an old and experience workman. REPAIRING also attended to. ihe public, as well as Ins fellow soldiers,are invited to g.ve him a call and examine his stock. FRANK H. WENTZ. Lewistown, Sept., 18fi5. . ■ rpß\ Krysingers Navv at SIOO per lb. and you will use A no other. Erysingers Spun Roll ean't be beat. Fry-ingi-rs Flounder t the best, fne Oronoko Twist defies competition. v 1 *' Vo . u , r '"Toe Cut at Erysinjzers, $1.20 a $1.50 per lb. R avy Tobacco 50 cents "per lb. at Fry singers, and all °m r ' n ' m very low for cash. Merchants will find it to their interest to get their ■ goods at Frysingers, East Market St. Lewistown, Pa. 3? O IE T IR, "752" . THE SABBATH. BY EMILY 8. TASNER. The week of toil is gone. Once more, broad streaming through the deeps of | night, i Another day, the welcome Sabbath morn, Is risen on my sight. This day my feet shall cease i The wearying, fretting rounds of life to run; | But they shall be led forth with joy and peace Toward my Father's throne. My hands shall rest awhile I From hard and grasping toil for daily need; From warping cares, and passions that defile— Oil, heart, aw hile bo freed ! My soul shall fold her wing j In the calm shadow of Almighty love; ; My ear shail hush to catch trie fai litest ring Of harmonies above. My eyes in trust shall turu j Toward the green pastures of eternal rest, The far and shining portals half discern Of the.iuansious of the blest. I wait, O Lord, the morn j \\ hen from the mystic deeps of death shall rise . ! The heavenly Sabbath, in full brightness bom, L'pou my lougiug eyes— When no dark week of toil, Its day of calm shall loltow or precede— When from all pain, tiniest, and wild turmoil, Shall heart and hand be freed. And when my ear, that now, Deafened by earth's discordant noises. Hears but so faint and far, wiiiie listening low The deep, eternal voices, Shall ope to know the songs, The fullest depths of harm, ny divine, When holy hymns that breathe from seraph tongues Shall find a piaee on ;<u>ie. When to those fields of rest Where death shall cease, and life and love begin, When passed the portals, to the mansions blest, My feet shall enter 111. WARWICK NECK, R. I. —Phrenological Journal. A GOOD STORY. MYRA MELVILLE. 'Thank God 1 it is six o'clock at last; the masons arc returning l'rom work with their empty dinner cans; Myra will soon he home.' Home! :t small, low roofed, uucar peted comfortless room, its only furni ture consisting of u rickety cot lied stead, a cracked, tireless stove, a deal table, a lew trunks, and, by tbo solita ry window, an old rocking chair, in which inclined a woman evidently in | the last stage ot consumption. She could not have been forty years of age, but though her eyes were unnaturally bright, and her checks glowing witii the hectic spots ot lever, her hair was already streaked with silver, her form prematurely bent, shrunk and emacia ted. She hud been knitting, but her hacking cough prevented continuous exertion of any kind; and now the glit tering mesh work of beads and silk slipped unheeded from the transparent fingers. On the table was a paper box containing some completed hair nets, their bright hues contrasting strangely with the squailor of surrounding oo- : jeets. The blusterous March wind moaned in the cold chimney, rattled the badly fitting window sashes, and penetrated the broken pane, each fresh gust shaking down a portion of dry putty that had evidently been applied to the cracked glass by some uuskiil full hand. In the street the pedestrians quickened their steps anxious to reach shelter from the cutting wind Even ing drew on apace, and still the inva- j lid sat alone in the cold, cheerless room she called home; she who had been reared amid all the luxuries that wealth could purchase. This was her story; the motherless child of a wealthy, purse proud, London merchant, she eloped with one of his clerks. Her ; father not only refused liis forgiveness, disinherited her, and, previous to his i death, which occurred about five years subsequent to his daughter's ill starred marriage, bequeathed all his property Ito public charities. Mr. and Mrs. Mel- , ville struggled on in London for some | years, and then with their only child I and daughter, came to New York to | improve their condition, and might, perhaps, have done so, if he had not fallen into bad company, taking to drink, and, in a filot despair at having lost a good situation, enlisted in one of the first volunteer regiments raised for the war. Mrs. Melville was a good pianist, hut she had no friends and j could not afford to advertise. At last she obtained a few music pupils, and i for some time, with the additional j help granted by the Soldier's Keliel : Fund, was enabled to support herself j and daughter, and to send the latter to a public school. Melville's three years' term of service had almost expired when he fell wounded into the enemy's hands, and no tidings of his ultimate fate ever reached his afflicted family. The Relief Fund was discontinued; poor Mrs. Melville redoubled her ex , ertions, but she was delicate and could not bear hardships and exposure, took la violent cold that brought on rapid consumption, and now there she lay, : heartsick, hopeless in that miserable room, and in a foreign country, dying. Myra Melville was now sixteen; when her mother fell sick she loft school, and l r a time they had tried to maintain inemselvcs by making hair nets for the stores, but this so badly paid lliat their united efforts were inadequate to supply their wants, WEDNESDAY. JULY 11, 1866, and since Mrs. Melville had become too ill to work, Myra had accepted a si;u atioii in a wholesale grocery in Front street, where they employed girls to pack and label spices, Ac. It was a great trial, this daily separation of tr. other and daughter for so many long and weary hours —the one so lonely, so weak, so suffering, the other blessed with youth and health, but surrounded by uncongenial companions, and ex posed to all the dangers and seductions of a large city at the very age when a loving mother's companionship and vigilance were most required. Myra was late to-night, hut she came at last. The wind was so high that she had scarcely strength to close the door be hind her as she entered, staggering under the weight of a large market basket. She quickly lighted a small coal oil lamp and embraced her moth er. 'You arc lute, Myra.' 'Yes, mother, they have a large or der. Norah and Ellen were again ab sent, so I had their work to do as well as my own, and could not get through tili nearly seven. it was pepper 1 had to pack, and oh ! how it choked me' 'Poor child ! poor child!' 'Never mind. I will make you some fire and toll you all my adventures, while the kettle boils.' 'Pear child! what adventures—what new misfortunes have you met?' •Nothing so horrible. As 1 was pas. sing along Fulton street, where the lire was, 1 saw all this nice wood, so 1 collected it, and was thinking what a good warm room it would make for you when I felt myself seized around the waist, and in another moment I was struggling in thai hateful liob Grinder's arms, and I—but mother, darling, I am here all safe, you see; do not look so scared and white or 1 shall be afraid to tell you anything.' J J O ' Go on, child, tell me all' 'There is little more to tell, mamma. Two young men came up at the time, and one of tlu-m, quite a gentleman, threatened to cane Bob if ho did not release me instantly. The companion of my unknown friend walked on say ing: • Let her alone, Gerald, she is of no account, anyhow.' But the gen tleman did not heed him ; and then when Bob saw my protector approach he sneaked off like a coward, mutter ing something I could not hear. Then the gentleman picked up the wood which was upsel in the scuflle, and handed me tbo basket with as much respect as if 1 had been a great lady, instead of a poor working girl.' 'May God's blessing be with him for bis kindness to niv fatherless child.' ' Hut, oh ! mother, I have behaved like a fool; 1 was so confused, so ashamed. I took the basket, and looked up to thank him, when who should L see but the same handsome young man who saved me from being run over when i was a little girl and crossing iiroadway to the Thirteenth school; who so often afterwards used to-meet me wet days and hold his um brella over me. because we were neigh bors, lie said, and going the same way I wonder if he recognised me; I could not speak, and he must have thought me rude and ungrateful —he raised his hat, and as he left me gave me this card. Sec it is his name and address, ' Markham, No. Fourteenth street.' 'Gerald Markham! that was the name of my Godfather. I was named after him, Geraldiue, and your second name is Geraldine, too. I wonder it they are in any way connected? It can hardly he, for Mr. Markham emi grated to Australia before 1 married your poor father. I could not apply to him for assistance, for I did not know his address; but it lie had re muined in England our late would have been far different, for he was a most generous liberal man, and I was ever a great favorite with him ' Myrn had kindled the fire, and se cured the banging shutters, and. hav ing assisted her mother to bed, and prepared their frugal supper of tea and soda crackers, sat down to tinish the hair net which her mother had com menced, and which had to bo complet ed that night, for the next day was the Ist of April and she depended upon the money she was to receive for thorn to pay the rent of the miserable room they tenanted for the ensuing month and she knew she dare not ask for her week's wages at the store be fore Saturday. Myra was indeed a creature of rare and exquisite beauty. The rays of tiie lamp, which was on the mantel piece, streamed upon her head, surrounding it with a glory such as Remembranct loved to picture about the heads of saints and martyrs, ifer face was in shadow now, but her largo lustrous eyes expanded and contracted with every emotion, and were, in color, as variable as the heaving pillow that borrows its hue from the passing sha dows or the rose-tinted.sunbeams.— Strength and Resolution might bo seen in the finely formed chin, with its deep : dimple, contrasting with the otherwise perfectly feminine contour of her beau tiful lace. lier cheek was usually pale, yet possessing the pure marble white- ' i.ess of perfect health, and she possess- 1 ed that greatest charm ot woman—a j voice low, sweet, and musical. 'Come to bed, Myra; you are tired. I cannot bear to have you work so late.' 'Yes, mother. I have nearly finished.' ! The beaded silk slipped through poor Myra s dextrous lingers; but it was long after midnight before the weary girl had completed her task. Tim O'Kafforty. the drunkard, came staggering home from the grog shop, his unwieldy form groping through the dark entry,and became with such force against the door that the rusty bolt, which was its only security, trem bled in its socket, and Myra started in alarm to her feet, but the drunkard re covered his equilibrium and she heard him curse and swear till he found lie was to the creaking stairway, thence to the room over head, his heavy foot steps shaking down some of the plas ter from the cracked ceiling. Then all was still v ithin the wretched tene- i munt. Myra's lamp flickered and ex j pircd, and thoroughly chilled and ex- ; haustedjshe undressed in the dark and then threw herself down by her moth | er's side. She laid awake lor some | time, thinking over her meeting with | Gerald Markham, but at last fell into a ! sound, dreamless sleep. When she j awoke she found herself gasping and I suffocating—the room was full of • smoke —men, women and children j shouting and shrieking. She rushed ! to the door and succeeded in opening it, hut the flames iurccd her hack. 'Mother!" wake! the house" is on tire!' There was no rcpiy. At this mo ment the window was burst open front j the outside, and a man leaped into the i room and would have borne her away ' in his arms, hut she escaped Irom his I grasp and fell tainting to the ground, exclaiming, ' .No—! Save her! Save my mother!' *# V * * * Was it-all a dream! Was she still dreaming? She was lying on a luxu rious couth, enveloped in a suit silken wrapper. Kind iaces were bending over her with anxious solicitude. '1 hen the title of recollection return ed to her. ' Oli, God! My mother!' 'She is sate—she is here, and if you are sufficiently recovered you shall see her,' saiti the elder ot the two ladies, who sat by her side. Yes, Mrs. Mel ville was safe and under the root ot Gerald Markham, her god father, stud these ladies were his wife and daugh ter. When he returned, a milionairc, from Australia, his old friend Stanton was dead. He heard with great re gret of Geraldiue's unhappy marriage and emigration to America, and as he had no Lies in England, brought his lamiiy to settle in 2s ew York, hoping that ho might in course of time disco ver the retreat ol'the emigrants. Every comfort, every delicacy that money eould purchase was procured by the Markhams lor Mrs. Melville. The skill of the most eminent New York physicians alleviated her suffer ings; but all eould not save her life. Myra and Gerald were married pri vately by the couch from which the poor invalid was now unable to rise. She lived long enough to witness the happiness of her devoted child : Then, with a long, tremulous sigh, the peaceful spirit tied, leaving the impress of its beatitude upon the unconscious clay. Myra's place is now among the wealthy of the land, but she dues not adoin it the less because she remem bers that she was only a poor working i s iri - RIOTTLTUR A New Idea — How to keep Birds nut lof Cherry Trees. — While ruling through tlie country a lew days since with a friend, the conversation turned upon the prospects of the fruit crop 'By the way,' said my companion,'a friend of mine informed mo of a new and somewhat novel mode of keeping birds from cherry trees, that aas tried by him, and winch he says proved entire ly successful. It is simply putting a cat in a box, made of strips of boards, and placing it in the tree. The strips were nailed far enough apart to pre vent 'pussy' from escaping, and yet rendered her perfectly visible. The birds would come to the tree, but al most instantly discover the box and cat, and away the}' would go again without a cherry !' Birds are very an noying to persons who are fortunate enough to have early cherries, and we know of a groat many devices that have been resorted to, to preserve the fruit from their ravages. The remedy here suggested is very simple and with i in the reach of all. EcaHsaarsr IHMSB., MISGELLA.NY. Baron Munchausen Outdone. One ot' tjie chivalry is favoring the British public, through Blackwood's Magazine, with a remarkable series of papers entitled 'Memoirs of the Con federate War' This gentleman is such a prodigy • ! 1.1 <<r that it really makes one's blood eiirdie to r ad his only too modest account of hio own exploits. The puissant knight doesn't do justice to himself. W illi fear and trembling we transcribe a page trom his me moirs : 'Having been refused the general's permission to join in the attack, T gal loped on my own account about a hundred yards to the right of the road in the direction of'the hostile sharp shooters, whose particular attention 1 at once attracted, a number of bullets flying around my head unpleasantly quick and near Having got within about forty rods of their position. 1 shouted out to them to surrender; but in th o fundi (I security offered by the broad, foaming stream which flowed bet ween them and their assailants, they treated my summons with defiance, and answered it only b} T a brace of bul lets, one of which nearly cut oil'a lock of my hair * J'J.LHSIH rated out of all patience at this, I spurred my horse and dashed with a tremendous leap into the middle of the creek, and for a moment the waters ! seemed to close over my head; but quickly surmounting the torrent my brave horse gallantly swam to the op posite shore, and, by a strenuous effort | of every sinew, succeeded in sera nth ling np the steep hank lo tlie high ! ground above. 7 he hotlines- and rapid ity of this movement seemed top rfeclly [ paralyze the objects of my wrath—a j corporal ami private of the od Indiana | cavalry —who, as I pounced upon them I with uplifted sword, threw away their | arms and begged for mercy on their i knees ' Here is another one of his marvel ous stories: A Confederate soldier fell during the progress of a battle. On examining him it was found that a Yankee bullet had struck him in the middle of the forehead, and he was regarded as killed outright, but to the officer's surprise he found him, a few hours later, fight i ing again. According to the surgeon's t statement, the ball, striking obliquely, I had glanced, passed between the cuti ' ele and skull all around the head, : emerging at last from the very place j it had entered. The True Standard of Dress. We are always excessive when we ; sacrifice the higher beauty to attain | the lower one. A woman who will ! sacrifice domestic affection, conscience, self-respect, honor, to love of dress, we all agree, loves dress too much. She loses the true and higher beauty of womanhood for the lower beauty of gems, flowers and colors. A girl who sacrifices to dress all her time, all her strength, all her money, to the neglect I of the cultivation of her mind and j heart, and to the neglect of the claims j of others on her helpfulness, is sacrifi- I eing the higher to the lower beauty. Her fault is not the love of beauty, but loving the wrong and inferior kind. In fine, girls, you may try your selves by this standard. You love dress too much when vou care more tor your outward adovnings than for your inward dispositions; when it af flicts you more to have torn your dress than to have lost your temper—when you arc more troubled by an ill fitting gown than by a neglected duty—when you are less concerned at having made an unjust comment, or spread a scan dalous report, than atjhaving worn a pas se bonnet —when you are less troubled at the thought of being found at the last great feast without the wedding garment, than at being found at the paigy to-night in the fashion of last year. Ao christian woman, as I view it, ought to givo such attention to her dress as to allow it to take up all of three very important things, viz : all her time, ull her strength, all her mon ey. Whoever does this lives not the Christian but the Pagan life—worships not at the Christian's altar of our Lord Jesus, but at the shrine of the lower Venus of Corinth and Rome.— Airs. Stoice. The Great Mystery. The body* is to die; so much is cer tain. What lies beyond ? iXo one who passes the charmed boundary comes back to tell. The imagination visits the realm of shadows —sent out from some window in the soul over life s restless waters, but wings it way wea rily' back, with an olive beak in its beak as a token of emerging life be yond the closely bended horizon. The great sun comes and goes in the heav eu, yet breathes no secret of the ethe real wilderness; the crescnt moon cleaves her nightly passage across the upper de9p, but tosses overboard no Vol, LVI. No. 27- message and displays no signals. The sentinel stars challenge each other as they walk their nightly rounds, but we catch no syl'ahle ol their counter sign which gives passu go to the heav enly camp Between this and the other life is a great gulf lixed, across which neither eye nor foot can travel, l'hc gentle triend, whose eyes wo closed in their last sleep long years ago, died with rapture in her wonder stricken eyes, a smile of ineffable joy ujon her lips, and hands folded over a triumphant heart, hut her lips were past speech, and intimated nothing of the vision that enthralled her.— I'h re noloj lea I Journal. QUARRELING. lt' anything in the world will make a man feel badly, ex cept pinching his lingers in the crack of a door, it is, unquestionably, a quar rel. No man ever fails to think less of himself after it than before. It de g ades him in the eyes of others, and, what is worse, blunts his sensibilities on the one hand, and increases tho power of passionate irritability on the other, 'l he truth is, the more peace fully and quietly we get on, the better for our neighbors. In nine cases out of ten the better course is, if a man cheats you, quit dealing with him; if ho is abusive, quit his company; and it he slanders you, lake care to live tiiat nobody will believe him. No matter who lie is, or how he misuses you, the wisest way is to let him alone; for there is nothing better than this cool, calm, and quiet way of deal ing with the wrongs wo meet with. To lit:. MOVE STUMPS.— A correspond ent t<> the Jlural .Register states that Mr. John liarnes, of Baltimore, re moved a troublesome stump from near his residence in the following manner: ' Last fall, with an inch auger, he bored a hole in the centre of the stump ten inches deep, and into it he put a half pound of oil of vitrol, and corked ed the hole up light. This spring the whole stump and roots extending thro' i all their ramifications, were so rotten that they were easily eradicated.' | It true, the above would be a cheap method of removing stumps. Thesul phuric acid can be bought for about | five cents per pound. ffigußuttcr often runs, never walks. Time is said to be money. Cer tainly; not a few use it in paying their debts! BPSU A partisan paper says: 'lt is a i mistake that the (opposite) party plays upon a harp of a thousand strings. The organ of that party is a lyre.' rgS-T'm afraid you'll come to want,' .>aid an old lady to a young gentleman. T have come to want already,' was the reply; T want your daughter.' ®k, 4 You are a nuisance; I'll commit you said an offended judge to a noisy I person in court. 'You have no right | to commit a nuisance/ said tho other. Bs%, \V hen Eve told Adam to chas j tise his son, what five Scriptural names did she use ?' 1 Adam, Seth Eve, Cain ! Abel.' Sisff" A cotemporary suggests that a lady, on putting on her corsets, is like , a man who drinks to drown his grief, because in su-lacing herself she is get ting tight. te.y The following toast was given ;at a recent celebration : 'The rights | of woman, if she cannot be captain of a ship, may she always command a I smack.' g*Ay 'Pa, I know why that old-fash ioned pistol of your'n that grandpa fit with in the revolution is called ahorse pistol' '\\ by, son V 'Because it kicks so!' What is that dog barking at?' asked a fop, whose boots were more polished than his ideas. 'Why,' re plied a bystander, 'because he sees another puppy in your boots.' A pert little girl boasted to one of her young friends, that her 'father kept a carriage ' 'Ah, but,' was the triumphant reply, 'my father drives an ■ omnibus.' | fi&U'lt seems to mo I have seen ! your physiognomy somewhere before, ! but I can not imagine where.' 'Very j likely; L have been the keeper of a ! prison'for the last twenty years.' ■ A darko3" who was sent to jail j for marrying two wives excuses him self by saying that when ho had one she fought him, but when he had two i they fought each other. Husband, I wish 3-ou would l>u3' me some pret 13' feathers.' 'ln j deed, m\- dear little wife, 3 T ou look bet- I ter without them.' ' Oh, no, sir; yon i always call me your bird, and how | does a bird look without feathers?' Sta)'* 'Madam/ said a cross tempered ph}'sieiun to a patient, 'if women were admitted to Paradise, their tongues would make it a purgatory.' 'And some physicians, if allowed to I practice there,' replied the good lady, would soon make it a desert.'
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers