H. D. Hawley, • • Wm, 0 Maser. E. B. HAWLEY & Co., PUBLISHERS OF TEE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT AND GENERAL JOB PRINTERS, Susquehanna County, Pa. OrrteE—West Side of Public Avenue. Business Bards BURNS & NICHOLS, ..its In Dreg., Medicine', Chemical' Dye • ento tr,Oi Is, Varnish, Liquors, Bpiee".Faney ,r:.cies,i'acent Medicines, PerfnmerTand TolletAr carofally compounded.— linen fno k, Mootrone,Pn S, it. 3,73`4,. eb. I. 1372 E. P. DINES, M. D. G ',dears of the Cult-crafty of Michigan, Ann Arbor. end ~lso of JclTorson Medical College of Phila• delph la, ISI4, has rot limed to Priendevillee, where be wth attend to all culls in his profession as Usual.— It.slth. no., in Jessie liostord's house. Office the same hrretotore. Friend.vtlle, Pa., April 29th., 1.974...-GIII. EDGAR A. TURBELL 1:11111IGMTIM No. 170 Broadway, New York City Attend,. to ail kinds of Attorney Badness, and eon• d acts Coupon in all the Courts of both the State and the United Stat.,. Pub :1, 18:4 R . W. SMITH, lictm-ner. Rooms at hie dwelling, next door north of Dr. ou Old Foundr direct. where he would be happy t o e<a aU ibo.o in want of Dental VI orb. He fe-n , confident that he can pletee all. both In quality of wort nod to peed. Ornco hours Death A.M. co 4 P. X. Montrone, Feb. 1/, 1074-1 f tiar.r linsn, PA. Site/lied near trio Erie Railway Da 11.. large ADO commodious house, has undergone A taon.,.,:h repinr. Newly furnoined rooms and sleep ing apwinont.,epleudid tables,a ndallthings ening:l,- INi a gist class note?: I.IIOIRY Sept. 11110, 1:5:3.-11% Proprietor. B. T. .1. E. IL CASE, iIARNESS-MAKERS. Oak Harnett, light and heavy, al lowt,t Cant , peke, Also, Blankets, Breast Blatt keta. at.it everything pertainiug to the line Cae.4per itian the cheapest. Repairing done prompt It and It ;toed etyle. ont.ure, l'a.. Oct. 29. Ism liE PEOPLE'S MARKET. PIIILLIT Hans, Proprietor. Fre+h and Salted Mco:e, llama, Pork Bologna Sao tage.eic., of :he best qualay, conatantly on nand, at prwt, 10 .011 Idontroe.,:, Pa,. Jan. 14. BILLINGS STIW UD. IRE AND LIFE 1 1 / 3 17.1ANCE AGENT. Ale ba tl these act en dafcrto p roMp tly, fair terms. Ottc. h rot door east of the bank a. Wm. U. Cooper A Co: Public Avenue, Montrone, Pa. (Aug. /.18139. 2 I y 17.1874.1 821.1.1k0a STROUD. CHARLEY MORRIS TILE UAyTI BA ItilE It, has moved his shop to the bend tin occupied by E. McKenzie .t Co., whore he la prepared to do ail kinds of work to his line,ancli as ma. log switches, puff., etc. All work done ow abort notice and pr 4 e•. tow. Please call and eee in.. LITTLES if BLAKESLEE ATTORNEYS AT LAW. have removed to their New Office, oppomite the Tazbell Route. IL B. LerrLl, I=EM EIEZE2E2 DEALER in Books. Ptationery, Wall Paper, News fa pers. Pocket Cutlery. Stereoscopic Vtewo. Yankee Notions, ttc. en door to the Post Office, Montrose, Ps. . B. DEANS. eept..lo, ltr4 EXCHA-VGE HOTEL "M. J. 11AltItINGTON wishes to Inform theiMillcitust bating muted the Esunange hotel in Montrose, be in no prepared to accommodate the traveling pi:Mite in first-clael ttyle ontreae. Aug. m, lel3. II BUIWIT. 7. Unmet Staple and Fancy, Del Goods, Crockery, Hard- Wale. iron. stoves, Drava. Oils, and Paints, Boots and Shoee. Elate and Caps, Fors, Bonk, Robes, Gra. Caries. Provision, &c. New.ttiliord, i a.. Noe, 6. DR. D. A. LATHROP, A.dratulotere Eu.cruo TUZILILI. Rains, a lake Foot of Utze.tnot e treet. Call and .25111 ID D-1 Chronic 1./.l6Cue.cf outrusi.t. Jan. 17, '7l tio3—..f. DR. S. W. 119 YTON, fITSIc %N G' SURGEON, tender,. his service. to the cit.i.enn of Greet Bend and vicinity. Office at nis reetdonce. oppoene Damara Honed, ,Bend Sept. tat, leG'.— lf LEWIS KNOLL, SHAVING AND I.IAI/1 DIUISSING. hop In the new Posy: dike belldlne, where be will be retied ready to attenttall who may want anything In his Dm, Montrose .I . a. Oct. 18. 1869. cHA itiES V STODDAJW, lealat In Soot. and She., Hata and Caps. Leather and ern dm_., Niain Street, 1.4 door below Soyd'a Store. W o rg mod, to order. and repairing done neatly. ti d ..l.co,a .1.. 1 WA/. DR. IV. L. RICHARDSON P .IY SIC l&N & tenders his professions •orviee,. t, the clilzens of Montrose and vicinity.— lice sr his resider ;e, on the corpereastof & Bros. Foe udrr I Ang . 1, 1869. SCO VILL & DEWiTT. Attorneys at Law and Solicitors in Bankruptcy. Mace No. 49Cottrx street, oror City National Bank, Bing hamton. Y. Y. Wm. 11.Scoatts, Jane 113th. ltiVt. haunts Dzsnrr. ABEL TURRELL Dealer in Deno Medicines, Chen:dada, Paints, Oils, Dye tuff, Tea., Spices. Fancy Goods. Jearel27 Per tumary, Dada Block, Montrose , Pa. Established IFeb. 1, 18711._ . . LAW OFFICE. FITCH & WATSON, attorneys at law, at the old omee of Bewley m Fitch. Montfort. Pa. t.. r. moo. Ono. '71.1, v. sr. 'WATSON. A. 0. WARREN, A T TORNE Y A . LAW. Bootty, Back Pay, Pension and Exec un Claims attended to. °eke fro toot below Boyd's Store. 2fontroae.Pa. Lan. 1. 'a W. .4. CROSSMON, attorney at Law. Office at the Court Haase, Jr the Com:l3l.lone., Office. W. A. Caosesos. Mon trot, Sept. . 1871. —t f. MM=M Cn - a. Exorsarti aim LAND Straarros, P. C. addrera, Franklin Forkr, Sorquetianaa Co., Pa GROVES & YOUOO, IIIuNAIILE TALL OHS, Montrose, Pa_ . Shop over eb sndler'e Stara . Al l orders filled In itst-ratestylt. ;otting done On ..bort SMUG!. and warranted to lit. IV. W. SMITH, .3:II3INET AND CIL!Ili MANUFACTURERB,—YooI or Hain street.. Ito=roue. Pa. hug. 1.1889. M. C. SUTTON, AUCTIONEER, 1113 d iNscriutScs Aciprr, sat sou Frlendeville. Pa. D. W. SEARLE, A rTORIVEY AT LAW, office over Abe Store of kt. Ucvecovr. to the Brick Block. M ontrose .Pa. Lint tB J B. E. A. IL MeCOLLITAI, Arrow:rya AT Law Office over the PAO. Nolaroal. Pa Montrose, May 10. 1671. - A. 411 ELY, Address, 'Brooklyn, Pa. AUCTIONEER Joue t, mss. JOB PRINTING 3Elsecraxti:#,4:t AA' irintriNF/Pitir4 ; effEAP. 7" L lr^~.._--its _ - . TWO DOLLARS PERAEAE IN ADVANCE. VOLUME 31. LOVE AND LABOR We die not all; tar our deeds remain To crown with honor, or mar with stain Through endless sequence of years to come Our lives shall sneak, ,When out lips are dumb, Altos Ntonou What though we perish, unknown to fame, Our tomb forgotten, and lost our name, Since naught is wasted in heaven or earth, And nothing dies to which God gives birth- Though lite be joyless, and death be cold, And pleasures pall as the world grows old. Yet God has granted our hearts relief, For Love and Labor can conquer grief. Love sheds a light on the gloomy way, And Labor hurries the weary day ; Though dbath be fearful, and life be hard, Yet Love and Labor shall wiu reward. If Love can dry up a single tear, • - If lifalung Labor avail to clear A single web from before the true, Then Love and Labor have won their due What though we mourn, we can comfort patC ; ;.; What If we die, so the truth be plain; A little spark from a high desire Shall kindle others, and grow a tire. We are not worthy to work the whole ; We have no strength which may have a soul; Enough for ue it our lite begin Successful struggle with grief and sin. Labor is mortal, and lades away, But Love shall triumph in perfect day ; Labor may wither beneath the sod, But Love hves ever, for Love is God. THE WASTE OF WAR. -o-- Give me the gold that the war has cost Before this peace-expanding day— The wasted skill, the labor lost, The mental treasure thrown away— And I will buy eaciftviOd 'cif soil In every yet discovered land, Where banters roam, where peasants toll, Where many peopled cities stand. cloth each shivering wretch on earth ,In needfutlitiy,.in brave. attire ; Vesture befitting banquet mirth, Which kings might envy and admire. In every vale, on every plain, A school shall glad the gazer's eight, Where every poor man's child may gain Pure knowledge, free as air and light. In every crowded town shall rise Halls academic, amply, graced, Where ignothnetrmaY soon be arise, And coarseness learn both art and taste, To every province shall belong Collegiate structures, and not few, Filled with a truth-exploring throng And teachers of the good and true. A temple to attract and teach Shall lift its spire on every hill, Where pious men shall feel and preach Feace, mercy, toleration, good will ; Musient bells on Sabbath days Round the whole earth shall gladly rise, And the great Christian song of praise Stream sweetly upward to the skies 1 MOST MYSTERIOVS. -0-- While I was with Troy & Robinson, my first clerkship, by the way, I used to count a great deal on my vacation—it was four weeks in September—and lay a good me ny plans about spending it pleas. antly. Of course an invitation to some nice place vas acceptable, for a junior clerk's income is not often large; and this year, 18—,no matter fur the figures, I was very much in hopes of two—one from my maternal grandmother in Virginia, another from my old friend Charlie Pell, who had some months before promised to ask me to his mother's residence near Boston. Now my grandmother was a rich woman who had been a beauty, and was very much of the opinion that she would always remain one. She had plen ty of company, and her house was very pleasant indeed, and I knew that Mrs. though an etcellent woman, was very formal, and seldom opened the cold, best parlor, where the piano was kept in solitary confinement, except for a prayer meeting. If my grandmother invited me,l should excuse myself to Charley and go to her, and flirt-with the girls and play whist, and enjoy myself generally ; but if she cheated me, as she sometimes did, why then I'd accept the Pell? onvitation.— Charlie was a pleasant fellow; and I was a very little in love with his sister, who would surely be home from boarding school. These were my plans, but as time passed on and biought no letter from e'ther of the parties, whom I had supposed to be my expectant hosts, my s?irits sank, and I looked forward dreari ly to the hottest room in a cheap country boarding-house, or the alternative of staying at home at Mrs. Ferguson's and hearing how all the absent boarders were enjoying themselves at the seaside. Just eel had quite begun to despair, however—indeed it was the twenty-eighth of July—the earliest post brought me two letters, one a pale blue envelope, on which I recognised my grandmother's fine running hand ; the other a white, business-looking affair, bearing Charlie Pell's wild scrawl Two invitations at once. I chuckled with delight, and having hurried up to my own hall bedroom quite forgetful of my breakfast, I tore open the blue Nave. lope, out of which tumbled--semething crisp and green, which, on examination, proved to be a banknote for one hun dred dollars, and which astonished me very inuch,for my grandmother had nev er made me any presents of more value than a flat pincushion and a pen-wiper at Christmas time, and read these [nye terious words : "DLLs Wanton To-1 know you expect an invitation, and I meant to ask you, but ntrctimatances have *enured- that pre. vent nie'fmmlutyine the plettsure: Tim more - your -friend than- ever,Aut . I fear I can never ask you - to visit -- me aiitin. It =ma t` logse- my pooi company, foiZ-stuill" senalvu-what you, POETRY. STORY TELLER MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1874. find enclosed every month, and will al ways be, Yours devotedly, C. HICHUOND. "P. 8. I will explain in my next." "Singular !" I said. And quite unable to suggest a reason for my grandmoth er's singular conduct, I pocketed the present and opened the oth.'r note. It was equally as mysterious : "DEAR. ktca.—You promised to come to me for the vacation, and you must, but not to my mother's iioilB3. I. am at —, at the hotel there,and Lave arrang ed matters so that we may have a guest Come at once. You will be very much surprised by something which I shall tell you when we meet. Yours ever, CHARLES PELL" "No use trying to solve this problem either," I said to myself. "Well I'll go to Onarlie. He seems to want me. The hotel will be jollier than the old home. stead." And then I went down stairs to break fast, and ate- cold hash and drunk flat coffee without complaint. There were but three days more of it, and then came a month of lounging, smoking and en joyment. At least I was young enough to hope so. It was night when I left the train, and, portmanteau in hand, entered—. Just at the depot stood a light carriage; "Rich., old fellow." cried a voice, and I hurried forward to grasp Charlie Mrs hand. 'l'm so glad to see you, aid he, 'and I've so much to tell you—jump in. Let me take your traps. Now shake handa again and congratulate me—l'm married.' 'Married !' I almost shouted, 'Why, bless your heart, Charley, accept my very warmest congratulations And how aid it come about ? And what does your mamma think about it, anu—and—' 'My dear Rich.,' said Charlie, 'that's the unhappy part of the story ; they are furious. They have said and done the most dreadful things. I think they want ed me to live at.d die an old bachelor ; but at one-and-twenty, my dear fellow, a man must think of settling, you know, and it's absurd for them to be so implac able. And my lady is, perhaps, a year or two older than I am and very lively—a gay young widow, you know— and that they find fault with.' `Don't bring her to my house,' says mamma—indeed she did ; but you—you I know, have sympathy with me. You comprehend that I could not forget one I adored, because an old lady and a little girl told me to do so. You'll understand that no one in my place could, when you are introduced to Lottie. I met her while on a business trap for the house. I —but here we are. We sup in our own little parlor. Luttie has quite a fortune, you know, and lives in style at home. shall manage the place for her hereafter. The waiter will show you to your own room, and to our parlor when you are ready for our society. Number twenty four John.' And away he flew, while I hastened to number twenty four, made a careful tot. let, and hastened down stairs, within? , a pretty speech which I in:ended to make tartly friend's bride. When I knocke•i at the door I heard a suspicious flutter, and doubted not that some of the billing and cooing necessary to the situation was going on, but Charles opened the done for me, and I saw a lady in a lilace silk ani plenty of lace sitting near the win dow. Being very near sighted I saw no more, except that she had a fan in her hand,and was trifling with it. `Come in, Richmond.' said Charlie.— 'Sfy dear Louie, this is my old friend, Richmond Walters—my wife Rich.' I advanced. The lady arose. She was stout and blonde. 1 saw her face. She saw mine. For one moment we stood perfectly silent ; then she put out her hand and I took it. Neither of us said a word, but if my face flushed as redly as her's did—and I think it did—it is no wonder that Charles Pell stared at us, 'What would she do ?' I asked my self. 'Women are quicker than men.' She did nothing ; she merely gave me an icy bow aid turned,away her heal, and I, dropping her hand turned to the other sviiidow,wli ile Charlie stood Between us looking auspiciously at me, and grow iug very pale. 'You have met Mrs. Pell before, per haps ?' he inquired at last,tryiug to speak very gayly. I stammered. 'Once a long while ago,' said Mrs. Pell. 'I don't think the gentleman remembers me.' And then she fanned herself in silence. .It was very uncomfortable. I have al ways had a tell-tale face, and I could see that Charlie read a great deal in it. Re knew that I knew his wife much better than her words admitted. In vain he strove to talk of different subjects, and to do the honors of the supper-table. It was a very dull evening, and I pleaded headache and retired early. Before I slept a waiter brought me a little note.— It ran thus : "Keep the secret. Go away tomorrow. If you have the least love for me, go." It was not signed, but I knew that Charlie Pell's wife had written it. Go ; of course I would go, and the sooner the better. I slept little that night. At day break I arose, and scribbled a brief farewell to Charlie. A telegram from my employer, I stated. called me away. Best wishes, compliments to Mrs. Pell, etc. I had just addressed and sealed it when some one rapped furiously at my door, and open ing it, I found Charlie,who strode in and locked it after him. 'We have been friends for many years, Richmond.' be began, 'and I have had great confidence in you. Perhaps you can restore it. Perhaps you can explain the meaning of your embarrassmect at the sight of my wife.' 'I really—' I began. 'No prevarication, you know each oth er. She sent you n note last night. I de. mand a sight of it !' .What does she eq?' I asked. 'She has not been asked to sly any- Aling,'said Pell, ".1 . leave her to her conscience. Let me see the note ?' 'Really,' I began. •I aware you. 'You are acquainted • with Mra. Pell 2' nAiittSha;lie. „ • ' Devoted to the Interests of our Town and County, 'I have been. Yes.' 'it is nothing to-her discredit,' said I. 'Believe me,you had better let the matter rest. A mere—a coincidence. \ 'The note related to it ?' said Pell,black in the face with rage. iu a measure.' 'Show it to me,' roared Charlie. can't,' said I. 'Ask Mrs. Pell to ex. plain. I must not show a lady's letter to any one.' `Her husband demands it,' said Char lie. 'Charlie.' said I, 'what a fool you are ! There !' And I cast the little note his wife had written toward him. He seized it, persue.d it eagerly, repeat ed the words : 'lf you have the least love for me, go.' And he instantly ola•.ched me by the throat. I went down he 84 upon my chest and choked me. I couldn't help it then. I had tried to keep Mrs. Pell secret, but self-preserva tion is a law of nature. I wrenched niv cravat from his halide, and grasped his wrists firmly. - - - - 'Let me speak,'"l said. give you a moment for confession.— Speak before you die,' he said. 'I know Mrs. Pell 'very well, better than Ido you. We have been very fond of each other. She kissed me when we part ed last, and called me her dear Rich— Stop a moment, let me confess all before you choke me. She's my grandmother. She was Sirs. °harlots Richm>nd before you married her, Wasn't she? 1 was name's after her.' " Poor Charlie - Pell stopped trying to choke me and got up at once. 'Your grandmother? why, she's only teen ty.eigh 'People become grandmothers very young sometimes. Ido not know her age,' said I. Then Charlie let me up, and went and sat with his face on his hands near the window before he left me.. An hour alter I received another note from my grandmother. 'DEAR Mon.—Don't go nnless you choose. I've explained matters to Mr. Pell. Yours, C. PELL. I found out afterwards that my grand mother bad told a dreadful fib about my being an adopted child ;' but it really did not matter what poor Charlie Pell thought about that, so I never contradicted the statement And really now that golden hair-dye has come in, and she has been exquisitely done by Madame Blanc, the enameler, my grandmother has grown so juvenile in appearance that I think she begins to believe that she is not out of her 'teens herself. TUE MUTINEERS "Mau the mast•lTZle Were!" was the order from the mate of the Statesman,on a bright, clear morning in the tropical latitudes of the Pacific. Th? order was obeyed by those whose turn it was to take the first look-outs of the morning. But the youngsters whose station was in the fore &gallant crass trees paused in the foretop, and threw a rapid glance round the horizon. "Sail on the weather bow !"he reported "A boat with sail set, coming right at The announcement caused a stir at once on deck, and brought not only the captain, but all the watch below up. The all important morning duty of washing off decks was suspendtd fur the time be ing, to gaze upon tne unwonted specta cle of a whale-boat alone upon the ocean coming to board us in the morning, like the veritable barber—Neptune, of the equatorial notoriety. The boat was not more than a couple of miles from us when first discovered,ap proaching swiftly under the combined power of sail and oars. The captain's telescope was brought to bear, and it was scem ascertained that she had at least a full crew. We tacked the matintopeail, and hove to,waiting impatiently to know more, and making various shrewd guess es and speculations as to her history and character. ''l'hey've lowered for whales and got lost from their ship." suggested one. "Likely enough," returned another. "The captain makesout eight men in her," said a coxswain, coming from aft. Here was a new phase of the mt.tter, and our theory was blown to the four winds. Nobody would lower in pursuit of whales with any more than six in a boat. "Castaways, of course," was now the unanimous opinion. Ship foundered or burnt at sea and some of her boats lost with her. But we were not long kept in suspense for the strangers brought their frail cralt alongside as rapidly as oars and canvass could do it and leaped on deck. In a few minutes we were in pessession of the whole story—a parody on the old one of Bligh and Fletcher Christian. The boat contained Captain Watson, his mate and six others, from the bark Newcastle, of Sydney, who had been set adrift the day before by mutineers. The second mate, named McGrgeor, was the head of the conspiracy, which bad been most artfully planned and carried into execution, while he hat: charge of the deck. It was supposed that McGregor, the new commander, intended to carry the bark down among the Marshall Islands and there dean)y her, taking up his resi dence among the savages. There were still twenty men on board ; but how many of them wereactively engaged in the plot,or how many were merely cowed into submission to the new authority,was more than the captain could tell. "And how far do you suppose your ship to be from us now ?" asked Captain Bent. "I have steered west northwest,by corn p_aso as near as I could," said Captain Watson ; "and have run, I should judge, about eighty miles. The Newcastle when- I lost sight of her, was by the wind on the northwest tack, under easy Sail. She ought to bear nearly due east trom us." "Come, below, and let's lay off your course on the chart... I don't know as I can do anything Pot you, even if keitould fall in with your ship, but it might be some satisfaction to see her." The two captains went into the cabin, and soon the order was passed, along to make all sail on a wind. Nothing was seen during the day, and at night we tacked back again. And the first gray light of morning showed up the bark— recognized at once by Captain Watson nod his mare as their own vessel—run- ning down across our course. "Of course ho wont pass near U 9 if he can help it." "No, I suppose he will avoid us; but I ant going to signalize, at any rate. Haul the mainsail up," said Captain Bent, to the officer of the deck, "and set the en sign at the gaff." The orders were obeyed ; and much to our surprise, the mutineers altered their course u little, with the evident intent of speaking to us. "What cite it mean, that he is so ready t sp,ak to a straager?" was the qu , ..sti on that passed from one to another of the group. "Now I think of it." said the mate of the Newcastle,"l think I know his object. If he really means to wind up his cruise at one of the Marshall Islands, he will want to make a trade for tobacco and fire-arms." "You've hit it," returned the captain. "Thus moat be McGregor's object. There ;811% much tobacco on board mid but lit tle powder. He wants to buy more. Cap• tam Bent, let's you and I have another talk by ourselves," be added, seeming to have conceived some new idea. Their conference was short; but judg ing from the expression on their faces, when they came on deck and took the mates into their conference, it seemed to have been productive of something of importance. The bark's boat, iu which the wanderers had been picked up, was placed overhead on the skids, as if she had been one of our own, and a sail thrown over her that she might not be recognized. The crew were instructed to keep themselves out of sight while the two vessels were communicating. "What bark is that ?" asked Captain Bent, innocently, after he had given his own MIME'. "The Newcastle, of Sydney." "Who commands her ?" "Watson," \VILOIe reply, "One of our hal his kg broken yesterday," hailed our captain, "and I would like to get the service of your stir. geon." "Certainly. I'll come aboard,and bring the doctor with me. I wish to see ycu to trade with you." And with a farewell wave of a trumpet, as the vessel passed out of hearing, be luffed to under our lee, and then lowered his boat. Now the doctor of the Newcastle was at that moment in our own cabin, he Saving been sent adrift in the boat with the captain ; but McGregor would, of course, bring some one to personate the character. This would take seven men, from her crew ; and it was also certain that he would man his boat with his choice spirits,for it he brought any doubt ful or lukewarm ones. they might prsttle. We had .cur instructions, and within five minutes after the seven men stepped on our deck, they had all betn decoyed be low and quietly secured. The boat was veered after by the warp, and the maintopsail filled on a wind, just as if we had made arrangements for a days -gam," according to the frequent usage of whale-ships on cruising ground. Of course our partner followed our lead. keeping company with us all day, with out the least suspicion. The remainder of our plan to regain possession of the ship could only be carried out under cov er or darku ess. NIcG rept. and his associates. in crime were ironed and placed in the run for safe keoping After dark we hove to and set a light in the rigging, which was at once answered by another from the Newcastle, as she closed with us and lay under our lee. Away went a boat from us in charge of our mate, with a picked crew ; while a short distance astern followed another with Captain Watson and his whole par ty. The ruffian who was in charge of the hark, calling himself mate of her, was amused by the first corners with a slory that his captain had made a bargin for a quantity of ennpowdsr and tobacco, and that our mate had been sent for the money in payment. Suspecting nothing he invited his visitors below, to drink and enjoy themselves awhile. .Our men man aged adroitly to engage the attention of those on i.eck, and the second boat was silently alongside in the darkness, before her approach had been observed by them. The alarm was given by the cry "Boat ahoy !" hut too late. As she touched the side•, her crew sprang up to assist ours, forming a superior force, with all the ad vantage of surprise. McGregor's lieu 'heant was knocked down by our mate in the cabin ; the few men who really had any heart in the mutiny were quick ly disposed of ; and in fess that two min utes from the time the boat was hailed, the quarterdeck of the Newcastle was in possession of her former officers. McGregor and the other principals in the revolt, stilt ironed, were carried to Sydney for trial. As our season was up, we kept company with Captain Watson, and niacle our port there, where we were liberalty rewarded by the owners . of the recaptured vessel for our share in the bus iness. A curious incident recently occurred or. a Western train. As the oars were moving away from the Term Haute de pot, a pr tty young woman came from the ladies' car, and rushing into the smoking car, frantically appealed to ev ery body to stop the train, Catching sight of the conductor, she exclaimed, piteously, "Mr. Conductor, do please stop the train 1 I've left my baby 1" The train was stopped, and baby recovered, amidst the hearty cheers of the peiiple on the platform and the passengers; and while the young ;nether laughed and cried and hugge.il her little one, she , trled 'to explain how the baby was such. a sew one that she she hadn't got used to it yet. olrelt slippers"—Those It by children in their rude young day& FIFTY CTS. EXTRA. IF NOT IN ADVANCE. MISCELLANEOUS READING. THE SIGN OF DISTRESS. Twas a :wild, dreary night, in cheerless De cember; 'Twas a night only lit by a metem'a gleam ; 'Tway a night, of that night I distinctly re- member, That my soul jouneyed forth on the wings of a dream ; That dream found tae happy, by tried friends surrounded, Enjoylug with rapture the comforts of wealtlr, My cup overflowing with blessings unbounded, My heart fully charged from the fountains of health. That dream left me wretched, by friendship for taken, Dejected, despairing, and wrapt in dismay; By poverty, sickness, and ruin o'ertaken, To every temptation and passion a prey ; Devoid of an end or an aim, I then wandered O'er high nay and 6y way, and lone wilderness On the past and the present and future, I pon- dered, But prido bade me tender no sign of distress. In frenzy the wino cup I instantly quaffed at ; And habit and time made me quaff to excess; But heated by wine, like a madman, I laughed at The thought of e'er giving the sign of distress; But wine sank me lower by lying pretences, It tattered my raiment and furrowed my face, It palsied my sinews and pilfered my senses, And forced me to proffer a sign of distress. I . reeled to a chapel, where churchmen were kneeling. And asking their Saviour poor sinners to bless? My claim I presented—the door of that chapel Was slammed in my face at the sign of distress. Strolled to the priest, to the Servant of Heaven And sued for relief with wild eagerness; He prayed that my sins might at last be for given, And thought he had answered my sign of dis tress. Staggered at last to the home of my mother, Believing my prayers there would meet with success, But father and mother, and sister and brother Disowned me, and taunted my sign of distress Lay down to die, a stranger drew nigh me, A spotless white lambskin adorning his dress ; My eyes caught the emblem, and ere he passed by the I gave, as before, the sign of distress. With godlike emotion that messenger hastens To grasp me, and whisper, "My brother I bless The hour of my life when I learned of the Ma- 80138 To give and to answer your sign of distres." Let a sign of distress by a craitman be given, And though priceless to me is eternity's Hay my name never enter the records of Heav en Should I fail to acknowledge that sign of dis tress. DANGER OF MATERNAL DECEPTION. Ever since "-Rebekah, the prime actor in maternal deception played off her successful plot upon her blind and aged husband, the patriarch Isaac, the world has not been destitute of mothers who intrigue with their sons against the hus band and the father. Sometimes the plot is to secure a greater portion of the pa ternal estate fur a favorite son, but more frequently in matters of smaller amounts. The eon wants more money to spend than the father is willing to furnish, and the mother plots to obtain it. She may honestly think the father is too close fist ed with the boy, and does tot give him the amount which true parental regard would dictate ; and so impelled* by her maternal love, she seeks to make up the ' deficiency by 'some scheme, which will outwit the father, and get the money out of him by deception. Such a course is detrimental in the greatest degree. It tends directly to in jure the object of her maternal love by breaking down all nice distinctions of honor and of honesty. If a boy may de (*ire his lather for selfish ends—that father whom he is bound to respect, love, reverence, and obey above all other men --and does this with the approbation and assistance of his own mother, how can that boy be expected to have any fine sense of honor arattionesty toward other men;? The inevitable result of all such practice of deception will be to destroy in the mind of that boy all high refitted for the truth, and lead him to seek to ob. taro his ends by any means, however an; justifiable, which seem to promise sue cess. And thus he grows up to manhood with a character noticeable. for—being tricky, dishonest, and dishonorable. But it is not necessary to wait until he arrives at manhood to see the fruit. Hav ing learned, by maternal assistansm,to de ceive his father, he contrives like plots against his mother. After a time she is greatly surprised ut that same boy playing off the grossest deceptions upon herself. At first she is astonished above measure, and grieved beyond expression. She can not conceive it possible that the son for whom she had done so much should turn against her with so much ingratitude.— She does not stop to think that he is on ly practicing on her the very lessons site has taught him; that she herself has been one of the chief means of destroy ing within hint all nice sense of honor, and all true parental respect. And yet, such are the exact facts in the case, nor is it anything uncommon to hear boys justify the deceptions they practice upon their mother by saying. "Oh! pshaw 1 she cheats the old man, and I cheat her. It's all on the square." Too great care cannot be observed it, maintaining the strictest honor and hon esty in all home transactions. Everything done and said should be the very soul of truth. More boys—arid girls too—are morally ruined in their homes, and by home influence and example, than any where else, or in' any other way. It is done by the false lessons there taught them; by the tonic ideas there engender ed in iheir minds; by the deceptions there practiced; and by the white lies trere .spoken and enacted. Under the influence of these they grow 'up with no high sense of honor, with no staunch ad herence of integrity, with-no firm-princl ple sufficient io LW them to. the right, T. MONTROSE DEMME AT Coatslas all tbe Local and CI mural New s,Poetry.lito• rtes, Anecdotes. IdiscrtOmends Besditot.Coire votd mate, find a reliable class of advertisements. One square, ($( clan inch space,)3 weeks. or less, it m0ntb41.4.5.• months ,- b 0; 6 months. et 50; 1 year. $6.50. A liberal discount on advertisements o: a grater length, Business Lotalo.lo eta. a line for Eat Insertion, and 6 as. aline etch subsequent z usenion.— Marriages and deallui,tree 10 eta. a nue. NUMBER 51. and to barricade them against the assaults of temptation. Aud this must be tho case, whet' home life is not the soul of honor in all its ways—the correct prac tice of truth and of integrity in all its acts. If the father deals by trickery,and seeks ' gain by fraud, and wins by intrigue, bow can the son reasonably be'expecteeto do any better ? If Abe mother deceives her neighbors ; is glad, beyond expression, to see visitors, when speaking to their faces, : but berates them scandalously as soon as they have departed from the doorstep,and thus practices the thousand and one en• acted lies of social and domestic life, bow can it be expected that her daughters will be guileless and truthful? In .view of these facts,we feel that it is of the greatest importance that mothers should be brought to consider the danger to their children, which grows out of those maternal deceptions which are too prevalent in many homes. There is another point on which we should like to say a few words in warning and caution to mothers. It is to enjoin them to check any tendency which they may observe on the part of their children towards cruelty. Children are not born with en instinct of cruelty. They are gentle as .ungels, and it is the fault of their parents if they become monsters when men. Freiri - eheer thoughtlessness, and before they begin to ; reflect, it is common for them to do many cruel things—to tear off the wings of in sects, or to transfix them with a pin ; when a tittle older, to kill small birds for pleasure, or to put small animals to grief. These short steps toward habit lead on to great strides. Nero had the mild and philosophic Seneca for the instructor of his intellect, but Agrippa for his mother. The records of our own times, from day to day. are stained with deeds of blood and violence equal, in enormity, to those which marked the wont periods of de. clining Rome. Heathenism, in. its most gloomy phase, could exhibit instances of no more glaring depravity than those an account of which is to be found in every newspaper we take - up. All will have their small beginnings; the child who tortures dumb things grows up to be a wife-beater and a ruffian. We have all of us met with instances in which a word heedlessly spoken against the reputation of woman has been mag nified by malicious tongues until tho cloud has become dark enough to over shadow her whole , existence. To those who are accustomed—not necessarily from bad motives, but from thoughtlessness to speak lightly of women, we recom mend a few hints as worthy of considera tion. Never use a lady's name in an impro- per time, nor, except with respect, in any company. Never make assertions about her that you do not know to be true, nor allusions that she herself would blush to hear. When you meet men who do not Ger& ple to use women's names in a reekt.sse and unprincipled manner, shun them, for they are the worst members of society men lost to every sense of honor, every feeling of humanity. Many . a good woman has had her char acter ruined and her heart broken by a lie manufactured by some villian and re peated where it should not have been heard, even were if the trnth,in the prey. euce of those whose little judgement would not deter them from circulating the foul report. Respect the name of woman for your mother's and sister's sakes, and as you would have their fair names untarnished and their lives unembittered by slander's serpent-tongue, heed the ill that your own words may bring upon the mothers and sisters or the wives or some fellow men. BAD LANGUAGE.—There is as much connection between the words, and the thoughts as there is between the thoughts and actions. The latter is only the ex pression of the former, but they have power to react upon the soul and leave the stain of count:4bn there. A young man who allows himself to use one vul- gar or profane word, has not only shown that there is a foul spot upon his mind, but by the appearance of that one word he extends that spot and InfhtMed. it, till, by indulgence it will pollute and ruin the soul. 'Be careful of your words as of your thoughts. If you can control the tongue that no improper words are pronounced by . it, you will soon be able to control the mind, and save it from corruption. You extinguish the fire by smothering it or preventing bad thoughts bursting into language. Never utter a word anywhere which you are ashamed to speak in ths presence of the refined female or the most religions man. Glum—Girls do not always know their . power. It is far greater than they thine, and were they true and brave enough to exert it, they inigljt almost. in a generatiou, revolutionize society about , them. Exert your power for good among young men who are privileged to enjoy your society. Gentle and good, be also brave and true. Try to exhibit the ideal of a woman—a pare and good woman— whose life is mighty as well as beautiful in its maidenly dignity and attractive loveliness. Do not let it even seem that dress and frivolity constitute your only, thoughts; but let the elevation of your character and the , usefulness of your liie lift up the mau that walks by your side. Some, of ybn are in intimate associations, which, under exchanged promises, look forward to a nearer and more enduring relation. In these bears "do nothing to lower but everything to refine and enno. ble each other's character. • One who menteth "esteem need never Lack it friend. • A strong mind may be tempted; but will not yield, • We all have enemles, and all have need of friends. A proud heait and lofty mountain are never-fruitftil; • L hThILISICILD,RTIST WICOTSIDAS Moo Advertising . Elates: WOMAN'S IMWTATIOI9
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers