& 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.'