V
The V, JB. Mutual
Aid Society of Pennsylvania,
Present the following plan for consideration to
such persons who wish to become members:
The payment of BIX DOIXAK8 on application,
FIVK UOLLARH annually lor rora teams, and
thereafter TWO DOI.LAHn annually during life,
with pro-rata mortality assessment at the death
of each member, which for the ViasT Class is as
ioiiows:
ment
It 60 2H 73 41 02 54
16 61 29 74 42 04 . f5
17 62 30 75 43 t M
18 63 31 77 44 ! 57
1 64 32 79 4.1 1 (X) M
20 65 S3 81 46 1 06 69
21 66 34 83 47 1 12 GO
22 67 35 &) 4H 1 18 61
23 68 36 86 49 1 24 62
24 69 37 87 50 1 30 63
25 70 38 88 51 1 40 64
26 71 39 89 52 1 50 65
27 72 40 90 63 1 60
1 70 (
1 80
1 92
2 04
2 16
2 28
2 40
2 45
2 50
2 55
2 60
2 65
Will entitle a member to a cortlllcate of ONE
THOUSAND DOl-LA US, to be paid at his death
to bis legal heirs or assigns, whenever such death
.may occur.
A memlier, or his heirs, may name a successor)
but If notice of the death of a member to the Sec
retary Is not accompanied with the name of a suc
cessor, then the Society will put In a successor and
fill the vacancy, according to the Constitution of
the Society.
Should the member die before his four pay
ments of jlt dollar are made, the remaining un
paid part will be deducted from the one rhoumnU
IXMart due his heirs; his successor will then pay
only two dollart annually during bis lifetime, and
the mortality assessments.
tHI- Male and Female from fifteen to sixty-five
years of age, of good moral habits, In good health,
Jialo, and sound of mind. Irrespective of creed, or
race, may become members. For further tnfoma
iou, address I- W. CKAUMKK,
(Sec'y U. B. Mutual Aid Society,)
LEUANON, l'A.
Agents Wanted I
Address .
D. 8. EARLY,
6 31 8m pd Uarrlsburg, Pa.
The Great Cause
OF
HUMAN MISERY:
.Just Published, In a Sealed Envelope. Price. 6cts.
A LECTURE ON THE NATURE, TREATMENT,
AND RADICAL CURE of all Diseases caused by
excess. He. Also, Nervousness, Consumption, Ep
ilepsy, and Elts, etc., etc. Hy ROBERT J. CUL
VERWELL, M. D., author of the "Green Book,"
etc., etc.
The World-renowned author. In this admirable
Lecture, clearly proves from his own experience,
that the awful consequences youthful tnillscretlon
may be ellectually removed without mediclne.and
without dangerous surgical operations, bougies,
Instruments, rings, or cordials, pointing out a
mode of cure at once certain and eilectual, by
whloh every sufferer, no matter what his condition
may be, maycure himself cheaply, privately, and
radically. THIS LECTURE will rituvis A
11(H)N TO THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS.
Sent, under seal, to any address, In plain sealed
envelope, on the receipt of six cents, or two post
age stamps. Also, Dr. Culverwell's "Marriage
uuiae," price Za cents. Address ine ruonsners,
8.5.1yr . 127 Bowery, New Vol k, P. O. Box, 4,686
M fff TO BE CREDITKD TO
tJPtfc.UUU MUTUAL POLICY UOLDER3.
The Pennsylvania Central Insurance Compary
Having naa out mile toss uunng me past year, me
annual assessment on Mutual Policy-holders will
not exceed 60 iter cent, on the usual one vear cash
rates, which would be equal to a dividend of 9
per cent., as calculated In Stock Companies, or a
deduction of 2 per cent., on the notes below vhe
usual assessment; and as t lie Company has over
t"00,ooo In oroiiiium notes, the whole amount cred
ited to mutual policy-holders, over cash rates, will
amount to 14,000. Mad the same policy-holders In
sured In a Stock Company, at the usual rate, they
would have nald L0o,i more than It has Oust them
In this Company. Yet some of our neighbor
ageuts are running about crying Fraud I Fraud t
aud declare that a mutual company must fall.
But they don't say how many stock companies are
falling every year, o: how many worthless stock
companies are represented In Perry County
It Is a well-known fact that a Mutual Company
cannot area. i
JAMES II. GBIKH,
6 25tf Beo'y of Peuu'a Central Insurance Co.
It E MO V A. I !
Merchant Tailoring Establishment.
THE subscriber respectfully Informs the publlo
that he has removed his MERCHANT TAIL
ORING ESTABLISHMENT from "Little Stole
In the Corner," to room formerly occupied by J,
. Shatto, Dentist, where may be found at all
ximes, a vartea assortment oi
Cloths, Casslmors and Testings,
With a complete line of
Tailor' Trimming-,
Of the best quality. Thorn desiring to purchase
uwiiltb, at neasonaDie prices, ana pa
them made In the LATEST STYLE, will nle
give us a calL 8. II. BKCK.
Also, a good assortment of
SHIRTS, SUSPENDERS, COLLARS,
NECK-TIES, HOSIERY, &C..&0.,
On hand at low prices.
BANKING HOUSE
OF
JVo. 530 Walnut Street,
PHILADELPHIA.
The Business of this IIouso Is in all respects
the same as that of an Incorporated
Bank, with the additional
feature of Discounts upon
Real Estate Collaterals.
Interest at 4 per Ct per Annum
ALLO (VED ON DAILY BALANCES OF
Currency or Gold !
Drafts Collected
FOB POBLI8IIER8 AND OTHERS, AND
Remittances made on day of
, PAYMENT !
6 28 If
Metal Lined cucumber wood mimns and
-also the cele brated Blatchlev pumps for any
depth of well on hand and fur sale at low
prices by V. MORTIMER.
Harrisson
nbo
ENIGMA JJEP ABTMBNT,,
mr- All contributions to this department must
be accompanied by the correct answer.
Cross-Word Enigma.
My 1st is in print bnt not in type t
My 2nd is In horn, but not in pipe j
My 3rd is in story, but not In tale
My 4th Is in wind, but not in gale ( ;
My 6th is in snow, but not in rain )
My 6th is in dye, but not in st aln i
My 7th is in get, but not in gain
My 8th is in string, bat not in rope
My 6th is in deBire, but not in hope j
My 10th is in fire but not in heat j
My 11th is in storm, but not in sleet i
My 18th Is in rinse, but not in scrub ;
My whole is a flowering bulb.
MY FIRST WEDDING.
I WAS pastor of the Baptist church in
Q., Iudiana. It was my first yearin the
ministry, and in mid winter a powerful
revival was iu progress among our peo
ple. I was preaching ovory night, and my
strength was being taxed to the uttormost
to prepare a new sermon for each evening,
besides attending to all other duties that
wore pressing upon me from evory quarter.
One morning, just as I had seated my
self at my desk to think out a sermon for
iglit, a young man called upon me in
behalf of a young friend," who was to be
married that day to " the girl of his choice"
and desired that I should officiate on the
happy occasion.
As the place was eleven ruilos distant,
the roads heavy with snow, and the hour
8 p. in., I did not see how I could well get
back to preach that night.
I bogged bim to excuse mo and find
some other minister. But no, his fnond
and his intended had heard me preach
once in their neighborhood, and both had
long ago decided that no other minister
should marry them.
This was far from unpleasant V my
young and foolish eais, so I folt compli
mented, and was half inclined to go ; be
sides, the vision of a "fee" rose before mo,
and I thought of an empty flour barrel at
home, and how it would gladden my young
wife to come home and place a five or ten
dollar note in her hand my first wedding
foe and so I decided to go.
I at onoe went to a stable and hired a
horse and buggy price for half a day,
five dollars. I had not thought of this ex
pense at first, and said to myself. '
Well, the foe will be ten dollars, and
that will leave five dollars for my wife."
After an early lunch I started, and three
hours of hard driving through the heavy
snow brought me to the house an old
fashioned, double log cabin, but quite
large withal, having one room on one aide
of the open hall, and two small bed-rooms
on the othor side.
A crowd of young men were gathered
about the house ; a long line of horses and
several wagons were ranged along the road
fence some fifty feet from the door.
They seemed to recognize me as the
parson," and fell into line and followed
me into the hall if so you might call the
open passage which divided and yet made
the two cabins one.
I knocked at the door and in a moment
It was opened by a very wise-looking wo
man, who withal, seemed to think that
the whole affair was one of the deepest
seriousness, to judge from her face and
manner.
Upon opening the dooi she immediately
retired, saying not a word.
I was standing in the open door, feeling
very much embarrassed. 1 bad never
been but to one wedding before, and that
was when my wife and I were leading lady
and gentleman.
A huge log blazed on the fire-plaoe op
posite, and tanged around the walls of the
room were some thirty or forty persons,
mostly young women.
Thoy sat as stiff and motionless as "Mrs.
Jarley's Wax Works," except that all eyes
were turned on me : they said never a
word.
My embarrassment grew apace.
Finally I aroused myself, and tugging
away at my gloves, trying them on my
numbed fingers, said, in a careless and as
much of a business way as possiblo,
I am the minister and have come to
perform the marriage ceremony,"
Not one word was said, but they kept
looking at each other and then at me.
The silonoe was very oppressive. '
" The hour for the ceremony to bo per
formed has arrived," I said, "and I must
get back to preach by ' seven o'clock.
hope you will inform the parties' that I am
here awaiting." .
No one seemed to know anything about
it, and I elicited no reply.
All this time I was standing in the door
way, and 1 felt that I was getting quite red
in the face. '..,.
I was confused at theVlence, for it was
unbroken still, except by a suppressed gig
gle from one of the maidens against the
wall.
" Perhaps," said I, making another ef
fort, " the happy couple would like to see
me before they make their appearaooe in
this company." .
Aula seemed to strike the old woman,
who opened the door for me at once. She
at once arose, and beckoned me to follow,
she said not a word, and led me across the
hall to one of the small chambers) . before
mentioned, and opening the door, pointed
me in with, " There thoy are," and shut
me in. , ,
And, sure enough, there sat John and
Mary on the edge of the bed, dressed in
their best bib and tucker, both looking as
confused and silly as possible ; but tboy
said novor a word, only turnod a little red
in tho face as I looked at them, very much
as though they folt ashamed of themselves,
"Well," said I, "it is time we were In
the other room ; and if you are ready we
will go on at once, as I am in quite a hur
ry to get back to town." i
But they answered nover a word ; onl
hung their heads a little lower, and look
ed a little more foolish.
What was to be done ? Had I got into
company of mutes ? I tried once more.
" Perhaps you have some choice as to tho
ceremony?"
They did not seem to understand, for
they both looked at me in amazement.
"I mean," I continued, "you have some
choice as to the length of the ceremony P
Some, I believe, like a long and, some a
short Bervice."
At this John and Mary looked at each
other.
Said Mary, " John, you say it."
Said John, " No, say it yourself."
With this, John, in a very sheepish,
scared way, stammered out, '
" W-e-1-1, p-a-r-s-o-n, 1 guess about a
d-o-l-l-a-r-'s worth."
I do not remember how we got into tho
next room ; but I was mad. .
I thought of my five dollar horse and
buggy, my cold ride out, my colder yet
before me, and my disappointed wifo, to
whom I had promised the fee.
But, kind reader, I want to assure you
that I gave them "about a dollar's worth,
If ever a couple got the full value of
their money, they did; for if they were
kept standing there one minute, they were
kept there three quarters of an hour, and I
was ma-Tying them all the time.
I confess prayer was not offered, and
know it was wrong, but my determination
was that John should have "a dollar's
worth," and think by the way he stood,
first on one foot and then on the other, he
was satisfied with the cheapness and quan
tity of the ceremony. ,
, Indeed, if John and Mary, or either of
them, ever get married again, though noth
ing but death can cut the knot tied that
day, not even the divorce law of their own
beloved Indiana, I am satisfied that about
ten cents' worth will do them the next
time.
I reached home just in time to go into
the pulpit, cold, tired, and hungry.
My feelings were not very pious that
night or the next day, when four dollars
had to be added to my fee out of my own
purse to pay for the hire of my horse and
buggy ; since then I have gotten in a good
humor about it, aud am sure it bos afforded
me more than "a dollar's worth" of fun.
A Modern Mummy.
The Egyptian mummy, in the library of
the Capitol at Nashville, furnished ma
terial for perpetrating a little joke a few
days since. A great many visitors from
the country were visiting the capital, and
the oft-recurring question was, " Where's
the mummy ?" Dr. Morrow, who enjoys a
joke, had passed into the Comptroller's
office, where ho found Col. Pennebaker on
lounge taking a nap. Returning to his
own office, ho was mot by a party consist
ing of several ladies, with the inquiry:
" Whero'a the mummy?"
" I will show you ladies," said the doc
tor, and taking the load he conducted them
to the door of the Comptroller's offioe.
Pointing to the outstretched form of Pen
nebaker, lying still as death: "That, la
dies," said he,' "is the mummy; ho is sup
posed to be 8,500 years old."
After a few timid glances at the mum
my the party retired with exclamations of
wonder that the art of preservation had
ever arrived at such perfection.
A Glimpse of the Other World.
Mrs. Gardiner, wife of a Michigan farmer
recently died under circumstances the most
extraordinary. Two of her sisters were
dead, one but lately, one a few weeks ago.
The cause of Mrs. Gardiner's death was a
congestive chill, and after she had been
considered dead for six hours, and was be
ing prepared for the grave, she returned to
consciousness and talked freely with . her
attendants. She stated to those around
her that she bad been to the better land
aud had Been both of her departed sisters,
with other frionds ; that it was a most
beautiful land beyond all description! She
said that she bad permission to return to
tell living friends of what she had soon but
that she was anxious to return again. She
passed away soon after making her state
ment, and seemed overflowing with Joy and
happiness. The Detroit Tribun says that
there can be , no question as to the cir
cumstances above stated. ..
tW A Danbury lady thinks that men
who chew tobacco ought to be muzzled when
on the street.
Singular Adventure. .
A Cinoinnail paper says: On Tuesday
evening about seven o'clock, seven or eight
workmen entered the Sycamore street sew
er, near Abigail street for the purpose of
cleaning itout. While they were there
the eudden aud violent storm came on
which our city readers will remember. A
torrent of water rushed into the sewer.
The men made a scramble to get out, and
all of them succeeded in doing so but one,
Johu Clark was swept from his feet. and.
found himself rushing down tho sewer at a
furious rate. The light disappeared as he
receded from the entrance to the sewer.
The aft grew close and vapory. The water
hissed aud boiled around him, and bore him
helplessly along. In vain he clutched at
the smooth, hard brick walls of the sewer.
Minutes seemed hours, and hours seemed
to lengthen into days, and yet he rushed
along tho boiling tide, feet foremost, barely
able to keep his head above water. Mr.
Clark is not a religious man, but in his
youth he received a little evangelical in
struction, which did him good service now.
He brought into reqisitlon some old prayers
that had been laid away in his memory so
long be had almost forgotten them. In
this hour of his peril he found himself face
to face, as it were, with an accusing con
science. Until this moment it appeared to
him that what he had boon accustomed to
regard as trifling dorelictions,had been look
ed at all his life as Irom the reverse end of
a telescope. Nov they appeared in their
true light, and were magnified to startling
dimensions. On aud on he floated in the
soothing flood, through the'sinuous chan
nel, which was so dark and turgid and
winding that it soemed to him he was en
veloped by the billows of the mighty river
Styx which flows nine times around Hell
Despair seized him. Considerable damage
also began to be done to his keel by attri
tion, owing to his peculiar style of nav
igation and the shallowness of the water.
Mr. Clark says he never felt so discouraged
and down-hearted .in tho whole course of
his adventurous career, and he is now
somewhat advanced in life. lie began to
take bilge water heavily, and to consider
that this was indeed " the last of earth."
About the time he had given' up all hope
of ever again seeing Mrs. Clark and the
little Clarks, Mr. Clark suddenly shot out
into the open air. Hope began to revive
in him, and he concluded that, after all, he
was not quite so bad a man as he had
thought. He called aloud for Bucoor. He
crawled toward the bank, and was rescued
from the water by Mr, Lewis who lives on
barge and keeps skiffs for hire on the
Ohio River. Mr. Clark inquired where he
was, and was informed that he was at the
mouth of Deer Creek where the sewer emp
ties into the Ohio River, and that, con.
sequently he had made a voyage of more
than a mile and a half in quicker time than
he could have made it on a steam donkey,
After refreshing himself by rest, and tak
ing some nourishment. Mr. Clark started
for home, where he arrived about mid
night Mr. Clark don't spend much of his
time sitting down now, and he partakes of
his altitudinous hash from Mrs. Clark's
biggest pantry shelf.
The Earthquakes of History.
TT is estimated by goologists that more
X than one-eighth of the entire surface of
the earth has been subject to the disturb
ing influence of earthquake shooks. , The
most disastrous one of which there is any
record was the third destruction of Anti-
och from this cause, in 620 A. D. Accord.
ing to the great historian, Gibbon, 250,000
persons perished at this time, as thousands
of strangers increased the population of the
city, belonging to the festival of the Ascen
sion, which occurred at that time. The
earthquakes and volcanic erupt ions which
buried the cities of Pompoil and Horculan.
eum are too familiar to require allusion,
Of the most disastrous of modern catastro
phes of this sort have been those of Lisbon,
in 1755, and of New Madrid, in Missouri,
in 1811. The formor commenced on No
vember 1. A loud rumbling was followed
almost Immediately by a fearful shock
which demolished the principal buildings of
the city, and in the short space of six min
utes li is esumaieu. inac uu.uw persons
were killed. The tide on the sea coast ran
out rapidly, leaving the bar perfoctly dry,
and as rapidly an enormous wave thirty
feet in height rushed in again, sweeping
everything before it. The mountains in
the ' neighborhood were shaken violently,
deep fissures rent in the valleys, crags top
pled over, and rocks were hurled into the
abysses, beariug everything before them
Thousauda of people rushed for safety to
the marble quarry wheh had just been con-
structed at an enormous expense, when sud
denly it fauk, carrying its load with it, aud
over the spot the water stood 000 feet deep
All the shipping of the harbor was sunk
instantly, aud hardly a vestige of the life
and prosperity of the famed capital remain
ed. The most importaut of the earth
quakes which have ever oocured in this
country, of which we have any record, was
that of New Madrid, Mo. Ovor three hun
dred miles of 'country, from the mouth of
the Ohio to that of the St. Francis, rose
and sank in undulatious, lakes and fissures
being alternately formed and' filled up,
These shocks were both perpendioular and
horizontal, the latter being by far the more
disastrous in their effects. The loss of life
and property was enormous. The city of
Caracas, in Venezulea, was overwhelmed In
1819, and 12,000 citizens buried in its ruins.
All the Central and South American vol
canio regions have frequently been subject
ed to these shocks, and cities destroyed
and thousands of lives lost. In the Car
ribbean Sea they are common occurrences,
and their consequences often appalling..
SVIJDAY. READING.
Hainan Suffering.
NO fact in the phenomena of the world,
death alone excepted, has mado so
deep an impression upon the minds of all
classes of men in all ages as the various
sufferings to which the human race is sub
jected. Everywhere the faot has stared
men iu the face, and pierced them to the
heart. From the remotest period of fablo
and myth it has been alike the theme of
the poet, the orator, and philosopher. It
has inspired a gloomy, solemn literature,
an elegy more drear than the howl of arctic
winds, more touching than the moaning
pines in the twilight breeze. It it the mu
sic of tho hoary prophet. It trembles upon
the heaven-touched lips of the Evangelist.
It came in weird strains from the Man of
Sorrows In the garden especially consecra
ted to the spirit of suffering. It has been
for two thousand years the grandest song of
the Christian Church ; a song to whose
touching melody all classes and grades of
humanity have listened with tears, with
unspeakable rapture, and with living aspi
rations for the land of rest ; and we have
turnod toward each other again with a feel
ing of brotherly regard, and mutual for
giveness of the errors of life. The song of
suffering has been sung everywhere in the
fiold,ln the workshop, In the counting-room,
in the palace, In tho cottage, and in tho
hovel ; in health, in sickness, in day-time,
in the night ; in sad and sore bereavements,
when the soul stands alone on earth, and
feele the ground sinking beneath its feet ;
and upon the bed of death, when the light
and eye perish together, and the darkness
without any light, wraps us iu unbroken
silence. The little child, the young maid
en rich in hopes never to be realized, the
young man in his pride and ambition, mid
dle life with its sober brow and home en
joyments, and withered age, alike Bing the
song of sorrow. Sooner or later every heart
is attuned to the plaintive strain. No po
sition, no honors, no gift of genius, how
ever rare and brilliant, can purchase ex
emption from suffering, or bribe away the
heartless spirit of anguish.
And is it not well ? Suffering must have
important purposes to fulfill in the develop
ment and perfection of humanity. A fact
so universal, and which is coeval with man,
eannot be regarded as an accident. Suffer
ing is designed. It was intended, . it was
carefully provided for in the structure of
both the soul and body, and in the living
unchangeable relations of society. Physi
cal pain has been the occasion of calling
out the mind. It has developod the art of
architecture, and the sciences of physiology,
anatomy, therapeutics, and surgery. It
baa led to the invention of mechanics, and
to the discoveries of steam and the electric
telegraph, though its connection with those
is remote. It has developod all that knowl
edge by which we are able to take care of
ourselveB and others. But for physical pain '
the world would have remained children iu
mind.
It is, however, in a moral point of view
that the good and beautiful, effects of hu
man suffering are best seen. It is the bond
of the noble feeling of humanity. It un
derlies the Divine Spirit of Christian
brotherhood, as it underlies the Christian
institution itsolf, the central source pf its
power and efficacy, tho sufferings and death
of tho Godman. It is pain and sorrow
which have chastened into gentleness and
beauty the family affections, and make
them shine upon the world like gushes of
golden sunlight upon the crystal waters.
It has planted In the shady suburbs of the
great cities hospitals for the sick, the in
sane, the blind, the dumb, and the mutila
ted. From out the great abyss of human
suffering another sun, another sky, anoth
er world has risen the woild of Christian
civilization, with its Divine forms of spirit
ual loveliness. Constant suffering and sor
row are teaching tho greatest lessons of
wisdom, purity, and love. Slowly they are
evolving the spiritual that is in man and
bringing heaven and earth closer together.
Suffering has done, and is still doing a work
for mon that love in no other form could do.
It Is making man nobler than he was, and
leading him on to his appointed rest.
In the very core of the heart, bound up
with the inmost fibres-its most divine tex
tureis the looking for, and the eternal
longing for rest. The whole creation
groans In the pangs of birth. Through the
riftod clouds we see fields of mellow light
a shoreless sea of untroubled glory, and
some , souls catch now and then spiritual
perceptions of the final rest a Divine
realm of peace aud reunion with the dead
and the lost of earth, where there are no
pain, sorrow, and tears. Is this a delusion f
Is this , hope vain ? No, it oannot he. It
is impossible, because native instincts are
truthful prophets. There is a rest for a
suffering world.