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RA. W. BLAIR.
TOW
prolrtssional
Jr. B. AMBERSON, M.. D.,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
WAYNESBORO', PA.
Office at the Waynesboro' "Corner Drug
Store." • pane *—tf.
SCR. B. MR., _A_ N ,
Has resumed the practice of Medicine.
OFFICE—In the Walker Building—near
the Bowden House. Night calls should be
made at his residence on Main Street, ad
joining the Western School House.
July 20—tf
JOflN A. IIYSSONG,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
HAVING been admited to Practice Law
at the several Courts in Franklin Coun
ty, all business entrusted to his care will be
promptly attended to. Post Officea - adress
4ercersburg, Pa.
LEW We DETZCZCH,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
WAvxasi3ono', PA,
Will give prompt and close attention to all
liffshiess entrusted to his care. Office next
door to the .Bowden House, in the Walker
Building. [july 6
JC),SMPE - 1 DOUGLAS,
ATTORNEY A.T LAW,
WAYNESBORO', PA.
Practices in the several Courts of Franklin
and adjacent Counties.
N. B.—Real Estate leased and sold, and
Fire Insurance effected on reasonable terms.
December 10, 1871.
D. A_ STOUFFER,
D-E-N-T-I-S-T-,
.GREENCASTLE, PA
Experienced in Dentistry, will insert you
sets of Teeth at prices to suit the times.
Feb. 16, 1871.
STSAGIILER„
(FOMIERLY OF MERCERSBURG, PA.,)
FFERS his Professional services to the
citizens of Wayne:l)QT°' ancl vicinity.
DR. STPICKLER lies relinquished an exten
sive practice at Alercersburg, where he has
been
. prominently engaged for a number of
years in the practice of profession.
lie has opened an (Alice in Waynesboro',
at the residence of George Besore, Esq., his
Father-in-law, where he can be found at all
times when not professionally engaged.
July 20, 1871.—tf.
A. K. BRANISHOLTS,
RESIDENT DENTIST,
a -di
WAYNESBORO', PA.„
Can be found at all times at his office where
he is prepared to insert teeth on the best
basis in use and at prices to suit the times.
Teeth extracted, without pain by the use of
chloroform, eather, nitrous oxid eggs or the
freezing process, in a manner surpassed by
done.
We the undersigned being acquainted with
A. K. Branisholts for the past year, can rec
ounnendlim to the public generally to be
a Dentist well qualified to perform all ope
rations belonging to Dentistry in the most
skillful manner.
_His. J. B. AMBERSON, I. N. SNIVELY,
E. A. HERRING, J. M. RIPPLE,
J. J. OELLIG, A. S. BONBRAKE,
- T. -D. FRENCH.
sept 29tf]
MILEINZRY GOODS I
TO THE LADIES !
IVIRS. C. L. HOLLINBERGER has just
..I.Vireceived a full supply of new'MiTlinery
•,„o.oods. Ladies are invited to call and examine
her stock.
apr 20.
L. C. IBRA_CM3BIMILI,
PHOTOGRAPHER,
S. E. Corner of the Diamond,
WA,YNISBORO', PA.,
AS at all times a fine assortment of Pic
tures Frames and Mouldings. Call and
cc specimen pictures. June tf.
C. A.. S WOLF,
• DEALER. IN
FArO 65 4WD JE' WE-LB Yr
883 WEST BALTIMORE STREET,
BALTIMORE, MD.
Xer . Watehes Repaired and Warranted.
Jar Jewelry Made and Repaired.
July 13,1871.4 f.
SURVEYING BD CONVEYBCING.
THE undersigned having had eome ten
years experience as a practical Surveyor
is prepared to' do all kinds of Surveying,
laying out and dividing- up lands, also all
kinds of writing usually done by Scriveners.
Parties wishing work done can call on, or
address the undersigned at Waynesboro', Pa.
feb 2—tf3 A. B. STOLE&
33 AR M R., I G- I
rinflE subscriber informs the - public that he,
continues the Barbering business in the
room next door to Mr. Reid's Grocery Store,
and is at all times prepared to do hair cut
ting, shavings hampoorikg etc. in the best
style. The patronage of thiiimblic is respect
fully solicited. •
Aug 23 1871.
NiN MUMMY" STORE t
MRS. KATE G. STOVER announces to
the ladies of Waynesboro' and vicinity
:that she has commenced the Millinery bus
iness in front room next door to the Hard
ware Store of S. B. Rinehart, and has open
ed out a full lino of Spring and Summer
.Goods, embracing all the latest styles.
Lidies are invited to call and examine
her 'nods. May 11-tf
!!..)fiONCAVE CONVEX spectacles. at
ALEX. LEEDS
c stitti Optirg.
"BOMB WASN'T BUILT IN A DAY.*
BY ALICE CAREY
The boy who does a stroke and stops
Will ne'er a great man be,
'Tis the aggregate of single drops
That makes the sea the sea.
The mountain was not at its birth
A mountain so to speak,
The little atoms of sand and earth
Have made its peak a peak.
Not all at once the morning streams
The gold above the grey,
'Tis thousand little yellow gleams
—That makes the day the day.
Not from the snowdrift May awakes
• In purplesi - reds and greens,
Spring's whole bright retinue it takes
To make her queen of queens
Upon the orchard rain must fall,
And seek from branch to root,
And blossoms bloom and fade withal,
Before the fruit is fruit. •
The • farmer needs must sow and till,
And wait the wheaten bread,
Then cradle, thresh and go to mill
Before the bread is bread.
Swift heels may get the early shout,
But spite of all the din,
It is the patient holding out
That-makes the winner win,
a-e •ts your motto-t ion to start,
'Twill help to smooth the way,
And steady up both hand and heart—
'Tome wasn't built in a day !"
FRIENDSHIP
A tiny, slender, silken thread
Is friendship, and we make it
Bind hearts and lives to hearts and lives ;
- But e'en a, breath may shake it,
And oft it takes bnt one wee word—
But one wee word—to break it !
It draws the look of pleasure
From eye to eye when hands touch hands
When two hearts beat one measure ;
And draws a meaning from a word
Which makes that word a treasure.
Like string of a tuneful harp or lute
Between glad souls 'tis holden,
, And love's fond fingers on the thread
Make music rare and golden—
Hake music such as tender hearts
Could live, and ne'er grow old, in.
But if a breath may shake it, let
That breath come near it never;
And never spoken be that word
Which friendship's tie might sever;
But let the cord grow stronger still
The dawning of Forever.
atiisonneolui gradinff.
THE TEST, OF TRUE LOVE.
"Eustacia !" said Mr. Glenburne, a lit
petulently, "how you delight in teasing.' ,
The scene was a pretty little room,.
dung With apple-green silk, with a shade
light, casting a very pale green radiance
through , the room, like moonlight shining
through the translucency of sea waves • a
bright coal fire burned in the polished
grate, and Miss Evelyn sat in a low sew
ing chair, busy at some delicate needle
work. She was a pretty girl, with soft
hazel eyes, hair of beautiful black, a ra
diant expression, skin tinted with carmine
while her full . scarlet lips were mischiev
ously dimpled at the corners.
"Yes," said Eustacia, "I don't deny it,
Charles. But if you would only put those
scissors down I should feel so much easi
er about their points, and it's only the
sharp pair I have."
"But do you really mean to say, Eus
sta,cia, that you would not marry me if I
were a poor man ?
`,I didn't say any such thing, and you
will only please tax your memory a little
as to the accuracy of the qudtation." 5
"At least you asserted that you never
would have become engaged to me if I
were not wealthy."
"I think it extremely—probable," said
Eustacia, threading her needle with rose
colored silk. "Dear me, Charles, you
need not look so astonished—in society,
girls are brought up to consider these mat
ters from a common sense point of view."
"But, Eustacia—"
"But, Charles, if I had been your wash
erwoman's daughter you might have
thought I was a tolerably decent looking
girl, but you.never would have allowed
yourself to entertain the idea of propos
ing marriage to me."
"Most certainly I should," • asserted
Mr. Glenburne, stoutly.
"Then, sir," said Eustacia, elevating
her pretty eyebrows, you would have been
been a sentimental idiot. For if you had
Ibeen the upholdster's journeyman, on a
salary of twenty-five dollars a month, I
never should have given you, a second
thought."
"That is a very worldly doctrine, Ens
taeia," said Glenburne, with contracted
brow, "to be married merely for the un
meaning aemsory of wealth."
"Oh, dear, dear, there you go again, at
a worse tangent than ever. I never said
I was going to marry you because you
happened to be rich. Isn't old. Mr. Beck
erson worth twice as much as. you are?
and do you suppose there would be any
earthly inducement strong enough to make
me marry him ? You are a cross, unrea
sonable hear, and hardly deserve that a
girl should take the trouble of 'reasoning
A PAREIWKNE*SthAPER,---DEVOTD TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND - GENERAL NEWS, ETC.
. . ,
WAYNESBORO',.FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA4 THIIIRSDA.Y, SEPTEEBER2B, 1871.
, .
•
•
with you."
Mr. Glenburne's countenance relaxed
a little.- • "Then- you ought not say such
things, Eustacia.'
"I was only speaking •the truth. We
live in a worldly world, Charles, and you
can hardly - expect but that we should be
swayed•in some degree by circumstances
You might have been a second Rothschild,
and I would not perhaps, have cared for
you, but as I did happen to take a fancy
to your black eyes and frowning brow—
there is no me to try to straighton them
out now—l was rather gratified than o
ther wise that you was worth a hundred
and twenty thousand dollars. Mamma
never would have allowed me to marry a
poor man in any event, so you see what a
treasure you have gained by the trifling
circumstance of wealth."
- She looked atliiin with an arch glitter
in her eyes. He could not but smile.
"So you own up that you are a fortune
hunter after all," he said, half laughing.
"I did not hunt the fOrtune, sir, the for
tune came to me and asked me to be good
enough to take it, together with the ac
companying circumstances of a nice young
man. Was Ito say no ?
"I'm to have a pirvate box of my own
when we are married, am I not?" said
Eustacia. I dote on music ; we never
could afford a box out of papa's income.
Another advantage of marrying rich."
"Eustacia!"
"Does it really tease you, dear ? Well,
then I won't say another word about it
the whole evening long.
And with this promise, given with the
scarlet lips very close to his face, and the
elting_lazel_eyes-fixed-beseeching—upon
his, Mr. Glenburne could not but be sat
isfied.
Yet the pretty girl's - words haunted him
for days afterward. Charles Glenburne's
nature had the fault of being over sensi-
tip and attached too much importance
to
_words and gin ncPs that we tri ' 'ng in
themselves, and it had always been a fear
in his mind least he should one day be
married for his money. He loved Eusta
cia Evelyn devotedly—he believed that
affection was returned with equal ardor—
yet there were times in which her gay, im
pulsive frankness jarred painfully upon
the more sensitive cords of his being. If
he had not loved her so dearly, she would
have been powerless to wound him, but
since his engagement, Mr. Gjenburne had
more than once regretted his wealth..
"She says herself she would never have
allowed herself to love a poor . man," he
repeated again and again to his own soul.
Does she know what the real meaning of
the word love is?
More than' once the idea had come into
his head that it would be a fortunate
thing did something unforseen happen to
divest him of his wealth—a strange, ro
mantic yearning for meeting the world
without the sheild of gold with which
kind fate had provided him ; but he had
occasion to learn one dm how widely
seperated are reality and romance. He
was sitting in the luxurious library of his
house, on Landry Square, when his law
yer came in and told him, in as few words
as possible, that he -was a ruined man.—
Some dazzling speculation bad proved but
an empty bauble—sundry securities deem
ed as solid as the United States Treasury
itself, had unaccountably given away—
one bank failure had necessitated another
—and the.end of all was that Charles Glen
burne, together with some scores of oth
ers, were ruined.
He looked at Mr. Redfate with vague
staring eyes, as if not sure whether he was
awake or dreaming.
"There's no Mistake abont all this
I suppose ?" when the lawyer's silence
-warned him that he was expected in some
way to break the silence.
"Dear, no, sir, not all. I wish there
were any such a possibility. It is only
too certain," said Mr. Redfat with a sigh.
- Then perhaps you will have the kind
ness to leave me to myself a little while
said Mr. Glenhurne. "I think, perhaps
I could comprehend matters more perfect
ly if I were to look over those papers
which you•had the kindness to bring for
for my inspection, in solitude ?"
"Certainly, certainly," assented the
lawyer, as anxious to get away as his cli
ent was to get rid of his presence, and,
with very visible belief, he laid down
the ominous bundle of paper and bowed
himself out of the room.
"Took it very quietly, I'm sure,' said
Mr. Redfat, as be 'tiptoed down stairs,
"but I don't suppose he realizes it proper
ly as yet. He'll be in a pretty temper
when he does."
But Mr. Glenburne, left by himself,
did not look at the vouchers of .his im
poverishment. He left his head fall on
his breast and sat quite silently for a
minute tor two.
"Ruined!" he repeated softly to him
self. "Ruined !" And Eustacis.l It will
be easy enough for me to begin the - world
again, and earn my daily bread by work.
But Eustacia!
•
For the loss of wealth he cared =A—
but the loss of the black haired girl, with
the laughing eyes, and the merry lips—
how could he give her up ?
For nearly an hour he sat in the same
position, scarcely moving or stiring—
then he drew the silver standish toward
him and wrote a few words.
Yesterday when I saw you, Eustacia, I
was a rich man ; now lam penniless. I
recognise the altered condition of things
as full as you can do, and hereby return
to you your troth. C. G."
ilingmg a bell, he dispatched &servant
at once to Mr. Evelyn's house with the
note.
"All news flies fast," he said to him
self, with a bitter smile; "and I may as
well anticipate the puffy tongue of rumor.
It may save her some embarrasment, at
at least, me taking the imitative first."
Ha4f an hour afterward, and the clock
was ticking in the silence of the lonely
room where Mr. Glenburne still sat, -when
a light footstep sounded on the stairs.—
He started up with an intent attitude of
listening. ,
"It cannot be possible," he thought ;
and yet—" • -
But all doubt was presently ended by
the opening of the door, and Eustacia
came in, her cheeks growing crimson find
her eyes glistening beneath their long
lashes.
"Charles I,'
"You have come to me Eustacia? It
was•kind of you," he said rising to greet
her.
I have come to tell you that I will not
be cast off," she exclaimed, vehemently.
—"What must you have fancied me to
be moulded of, Charles ? I
_love_ you—l
have promised to be your wife, and noth
ing short - of death itself shall part us."
Her hand was on his arm, her magic
eye shining up into his, through a dew of
emotion.
"We shall be so happy together,
Charles in a cozy little house, when I will
sit at home, blessed in the consciousness
that you are working for me, as a husband
should work for his wife. lam not afraid
of poverty, if shared with you. Charles,
you will not send me away ?"
"My own Eustacia," was all he could
say—but his eye. told the rest.
He had lost • his wealth, but he had
found soul ething more precious—the cer
tainty of a true woman's disinterested love.
Now, years subsequently,—when—he — had
worked his way to the top round of for
tune's ladder once more,he-was—wa =
to tell his wife that the happiest day he
ever spent was the day he was ruined.
The Enchanted Mountain.
In one of the north-eastern c ounties of
Indian tradition, the Enchanted Moun
tain. The mountain is not large, and there
is nothing remarkable about it until you
get to the top, when human tracks, or iin
pressions in the solid rock, which appear to
be human tracks are seen. How these
wonderful tracks came to be impressed on
the rock of this mountain'•is one of the
many mysteries of this mysterious land of
ours. There were a great many tradi
tions among some of the Indians in regard
to this mountain, but ' none of tla em
are satisfactory, and it probably never
will he known who it was that left the
tracks upon the enchanted mountain.
One of the Indian traditions is curious,
for it shows that they bad a vague idea
of Noah and the food before the advent
of the white man. The story has been
handed down among the aborigines that
it was the landing place of the great del
uge, and the tracks were made by the peo
ple in the canoe as they stepped upon the
.rocks' which had been made soft by long
inundation.
One of the tracks and the largest one
is seventeen and a half inches in length,
and seven and three quarter inches wide..
Unlike the others it has six toes. This
must have been Noah's track, and if there
was anything in the Mosaic account of
the flood concernii►g the size of Noah's
feet we might haVe confirmation of the
Indian tradition. The size of the track
would indicate that he wore eighteens.
There are one hundred and sixty im
pressions of feet and hands visible on the
face of the rock. The smalest foot-track
is four inches in length and in perfect
shape. Another tradition is that a great
battle was fought there,and the large track
with six toes is that of the victorious com
mander. This is essentially Indian, as
their ideas of mental greatness were cir
cumscribed by physical size.
A Singular Story
A singular story is told of a person who
held a promisory note of another's which
had run for several years, but which, on
maturity, he found he had put away so
carefully that he could not find it.. He
therefore called on the one who had giv
en the note, stating that he had lost it,
and proposing to give him a receipt as an
offset to the note if it should ever be found.
To-his surprise, the person owing the mon
ey not only declined to this, but positive
ly denied ever having given such a note,
saying he owed him nothing. Without le
gal proof, he was of course obliged not on
ly to let the matter drop and lose the mon
ey, but also endure the suspicion of try
ing to obtain money under false pretense.
Several years passed away without the
notebeing found,when the person who own
ed the note, while bathing in the Thames
one day was seized with cramp, and res
cued by companions just as he had become
unconscious, and sunk for the last time.
The usual remedies were resorted to re
suscitate :him ; and though there were
signs of life, there was no appearance of
consciousness. He was taken home in a
state of complete exhaustion, and remain
ed so for some days. On the first return
of sufficient strength to walk, he went to
his book case, reached down abook, open
ed it, and handed. the Jong lost note to a
friend who was present, stating to him,
that while drowning, and sinking, as he
supposed, never to rise again, there in
stantly stood out before his• mind, in a
moment,, seeming as though a picture,
every act and event of his life, from the
hour of his childhood to the hour of his
sinking in the water ; and among his acts
the circumstance of his putting this note
in a book, the name of the book, and the
very spot it stood in the book case. Of
course he reoeived his money, with inter
est, •
In the depths of the sea the waters are
still; the heaviest grief is thit borne in si
lence; the deepest love flouts through the
eye and touch; the purest joy is unspeak
able; the most impressive preacher at a fu
neral is the silent one Ichos.e lips are cold.
Incidents of a Stage• Robbery.
Some of the delights of stage traveling
in California are thus described by a San
Jose paper :
From Sheriff Harris, who has just re
turned from an unsuccessful pursuit of
the Visalia stage robbers, we learn fur
ther details of the transaction. The op
erations of the robbers were boldly plan
ned and resolutely executed in a thickly
settled neighborhood. The first thing the
robbers did was to capture a gentleman
named Moore. Hawes riding in a buggy.
They took him aside privily, near the
road in the field, •tied and blindfolded
him, and robbed him of $55. By this
time the two horse stage came along. The
robbers fell upo.n it, and ordered the dri
ver to go through an opening they made
in the fence. The stage was stopped at
the point where the man robbed lay hors
du combat. The passengers were four men
and a woman. The men were compelled
to alight and keep their eyes on the
ground while each was securely bound,
searched and blindfolded. Ona of the
robbers asked the woman : "Which is
your husband ?" She pointed to Mr.
Simmons, Canal Superintendent, who sat
on the back seat with her. "All right
said the robber, and Mr. Simmons, was
searched and bound,; but the lady was not
molested. The robbers secured some
thing over $5OO from the stage company
and a gold watch or so.
The subsequent proceedings were as
cool as ice. "Don't make a move till we
come back, or we'll murder every one of
you !" said the road agents, as, leaving
the people bound and the lady sitting in
e - stage - they - drove - ofil — ln - a short• time
they returned with a picket teamster,
whom they bound and searched, and left
with the the stage party. They then de
parted again with the same threat, but
were seen no more. For an hour, and a
half the captives lay there in the field,
the driver got anxious to go, and asked
the woman to come and untie them.—
She refused a while, fearing the return of
the robbers,; but presently released the
driver, and he the others, and they up in
to Gilroy all right except the plunder of
their property.
A Fly Story.
gentleman making a call at the
house of a friend wag astonished to find
the rooms and passages in confusion, and
on inquiring the cause, was answered :.
"Oh, we are very much annoyed here ;
we have an intolerable nuisance. A rat
has come to finish his existence under the
floor. of our large drawing room. We do
not know the exact place,
but we cannot
endure the stench any longer. So 'we
have rolled up the carpets, removed the
furniture, and called in the carpenteis,
who-are just commencing to take up the
floor, until we find the nuisance.
"Now don't be too hasty," said the vis
itor ; "you need not pull up more than
one board. I will show you what I mean
presently ; and meanwhile, shut down the
drawing-room windows, and close the door
lehind me as soon I return.
He then stepped down the front steps
into the garden, walked round the house
to the stable, and after a few minutes'
absence, came back to the drawing room
with both hands tightly clasped, so as to
enclose something 13etween•them. Plac
ing himself in the center of the room, he
opened his hands, and out, flew two large
blue bottle flies, and buzzed round the
room for a second or two. But presently
one of them lighted on a plank of the
floor, and was almost immediately follow
ed by the other insect.
"Now, then," exclaimed the visitor,
"take up that board, and I'll engage that
the dead rat will be found under neath
it."
The carpenters applied their tools, rais
ed the board, and at once found the
source of all the unpleasant smell. '
FEMALE PIETY.—The gem of all others
which most enriches the cornet of the la
dy's character, is unaffected piety. Na
ture lavishes much on her person, the en
chantment of her countenance, the grace- -
fulness of her mien, or the strength of her
intellect, yet , her loveliness is uncrowned
till piety throws around the whole the
sweetness 'and power of its . charms. She
then becomes unearthly in her temper, un-.
earthly in her desires and associations.—
The spell which bound her affections to
things below is broken, and she mounts on
the silent wings of hope and fancy, to the
habitations of God,where it is her delight
to hold communion with the spirits that
have been ransomed from the thraldom of
earth, and wreathed with garland of glory.
Her beauty may throw its magical
charms over many ; princes and conquer
ors may bow with admiration at the shrine
of her riches ; the sons of science and pov
erty may embalm her memory in history
and in song ; yet piety must be her orna
ment, her pearl.
° With such a treasure, every lofty grat
ification on earth maybepurchased; friend
ship will be doubly sweet ; pain and sor
row shall lose their sting, and the charac
ter will possess a price above rubies. Life
will be but a pleasent visit to earth, and
death an entrance upon a joyful and per
petual home.
Such is piety. Like a tender flower,
planted in the fertile seflof woman's heart,
it grows expanding in foliage, and impar
ting fragrance to all around, till trans
planted, it is set to bloom in perpetual
vigor and unfading beauty in the paradise
of God.
An anxious mother in Virginia has
sent this note to a severe school-miser
tress : "Your will oblige me not to youse
that wail Bone on the Ripes of my Littel
dautor. Give your Hart to god and Per
ham, you will have More Paeenee."
Common events of Life.
In old times, Michael Angelo took his
copies from the streets, and wrought them
out of the walls and the ceiling of the Va
tican, changing a beggar into a giant, and
an ordinary woman who bore a basket of
flowers on her arms into an angel ; and the
beggar and flower-girl stand there now in
their lustrous beauty, speaking to eyes that
wonder from every side of the green world.
The rock slumbered in the mountain,.and
he reached his hands out and took it, and
gathered the stones from the fields about
him, and built them into that awful pile,
which, covering acres of ground, reaches
up its mighty dome toward heaven, con-
straining the mob of the city to bow their
foreheads, and to vow great prayers to,
their God. So out of the common events
of life, out of the passions put by God in
to your hearts r you-may paint on the walls
of your life the fairest figures, angels and
prophets.-- Out of common stones of-your
daily work, you may
_build yourself a tem
ple which shall shelter your head from all
harm, and bring down to you the inspi
ration of God.—Theodore Parker.
To make Home Happy.
Nature is industrious in adorning her
_dominions whom - this - b • s u
ty is addressed, should fed and obey the
lesson. Let him, too, be industrious in
adorning his domain—in making his home,
the dwelling of his wife and children; not
only convenient and comfortable, but plea
sant. Let him, as far as circumstances will
admit, be industrious in surrounding it
with pleasant objects—in decorating it,
within and without, with things that, tend
to make it agreeable and attractive. Let
industry make home the abode of neat=
ness and order ; a place which brings sat
isfaction—fcs every inmate, and which, in
absence, draws back the heart by the as
sociations of comfort and content. •Let
this be done, and this sacred spot will be-
ness and peace. e parents who would
have your children happy, be industrious
to bring them up in the midst of a_plea
sant, a cheerful, and happy home. Waste
not your time in accumulating wealth for
them ; but plant in their minds and souls,
in the way proposed, the seeds of virtue
and prosperity.
THE POTATO IN 1586.—The potato, in
its early cultivation, met with strange vi
cissitudes and great oppositions. The stern
old Puritans opposed its cultivation , and
denied its-lawfulness as an. article of feed
because the plant was not . : mentioned in
the Bible ! Sir Walter 'Bailee', carried
the plants to England from this country
in 1586 and put them in his garden. His
gardener thought the green potato apples
were the potatoes, and expressed his dis
gust to his master at such products. He
was told to pull up the weeds and throw
them away. In doing so ho found the
true potatoes, more than a bushel in quan
tity ; he hurried back to Sir• Walter in a
very happy humor to show, him the sam
'pole and make known the discovery. So
late as 1725 it was only cultivated in gar
dens in England and Scotland. During
a period of more than one hundred and
fifty years after Sir Walter introduced it
into Ireland it failed to rise superior to
the prejudices of English cultivators.
SALT FOR SWlNE.—Swine are such
greedy feeders that not a few farmers pay'
very little attention to their feeding. -
The swill-barrel is often very little better
than a sink, and the poor hogs are expec
ted to eat anything and everything which
is refused by the other animals, human
and bruit alike. This shortsighted, treat
ment, however, works its own cure, or
punishment rather, for swine. thus treated
make poor. pork, and often die before kil
ling time. Others who are particular 'a
bout feeding their pigs forget to supply
them with salt as'they.do other animals.
They require to be salted,. however, just
as much as cattle, horses or sheep, and
suffer as much when' neglected as any of
these animals. If the food is not regular
ly salted, there should be a trough or box
i 4 every sty, in which salt may be depos
ited regularlrfor the use of the animals.
Salting the food judiciously would be
much the best way.
A SLIPPERY Sox.—Jaek said a father,
"yesterday I forbade you associating with
the neighboring children any more, and
to-da.y you have disobeyed me. The next
time I catch you there I shall be obliged
to punish you.
‘• The next day Jack was there again to
tally oblivious of the intradiction, until
he saw his father enter the neighbor's
yard with a rod in his hand. . Jack made
for the fence, over which he leaped, pur
sued by his father, and ran into the barn;
there he was caught. •
"Now, my son," said. the irritated fath
er, what did I tell you I would do yester
day ?'
"You told me father, that if you caught
me there again you_would punish me."
"Well?" said the father.
"Hold on I" said the little reprobate,
who knew if he could make hie- father
laugh it would make the matter all right.
"You did'nt catch' toethere ; you caught
me here !"
The desired effect was produced, and
the rod was dropped, but the interdiction
was renewed;
SCHOOL EXAMINATION.—"John, • hoW
do you parse grandmother?"
,"I doesn't pass her at all, but always
goes in to get a tart."
"'What is the singular of men?" '
"They is singular when they pay their
debts without being asked to do it a dozen
timag,"
"Young women are- beautiful. What
is it that comes after young women?"
"It's the fellers, to be sure—they, aro.
always. arter the•young women ?"
"That will do•; now you are dismissed.'.'.
$2,00 PEE. YE AR
paw aoi 4111
Wait and Xitmos.
° An Oregon toast ; over a glass of the
ardent : "Here's what makes us wear old
clothes."
\.l
'A paper has the d ertisement—"Two
sisters want washing. Doubtless a few
thou -and brothers are the same predie / .5 7 ,
meat. ,
Avoid argument with ladies. In spin
ning yarns among silks and satins, a man
will always be worsted and twisted, and fi
nally wound up.
The greatest sinner, who trusts only in
Christ's blood, will assuredly be saved.— .
The best man in the world, who trusts in
his own goodness, will be lost.
A man being annoyed on one occas
sion by a Eddler, who persisted in play
ing in front Of his house, sent him out a
dollar, with a message that one scraper
was enough at the door.
Plain and ugly women may take com
fort since history has satisfactorily proved
hat the women in all times, who have ex
ercised the greatest influence on men's
lives, are not the beautiful ones.
A. carpenter being, asked for a riddle,
propounded the following : "I picked it up;
I couldn't find it ; I put it down, and Went
along with it." No one could guess it.—
It was a splinter in his foot-
-- Romantic Amelia—(to-4161—betrothed
young doctor)—"Look, dear, such a beau
tiful sunset ! The sky is all crimson !"
Unromantic doctor—" Ya-as, appears to
have a mustard plaster on !"
It is an exploded theory that women
please or spite each other. Any girl of
sense and experience knows that it is just
as easy to break a man's heart in a two
dollar murlin, neatly made up, as it is in
a. five hundred dollar silk costume made
by a man milliner. - •
A Louisvil e matron, whOse husband
snores badly, kee • c ithes pin under
neath her pillow, ano en his snoring
awakes her, she adj • ti e pin on, his
nasal orgam-and th , slumbers peaceful
ly'
"Tell that man to, take off his hat in
court, Raid a judge the other morning to
ari officer: The offender, who turned out
to.lae a lady wearing ill fashionable sail
or hat, indignently e*Olaimed : "I am- no
man, sir . !" "Then," Bai ihis honor, "I am
no judge." -
The ruin. of most men dates from sonic
vacant hour. Occupation is the armor
of the soul. There is a satirical poem, in
which the devil is represented as fishing
for men, and fitted his bait to the taste
and business of his prey ; but the idler,
he said:gave him no trouble, as he bit at
the naked hook.
An. old white-haired plantation preach
er thus addressed on of the meetings of the
dissatisfied darkies: "What yer grum
bling about 2 Yer all better off dan yo
'spected to be—dan ye deserve to be.—
Did yer tink when Massa Linkum guv
yer freedem he was gwine to feed yer on
ice cream ?" .
To the watcher at night. how slowly,
and solemnly the clock tells- the - passing
hours! In the daytime how the same
sound is swallowed up iry., the. hurrying
tread of myriad feet, in the roll carriages,
in thunder and shriek of the locomotive,
and in the thousand and one mingled an
imate and inanimate voices that swell
the chorus of a great city ! Yet the mo
ments flee dll the same, and inscribe their
indelible record for good or evil. ' •
Twp rood natured Irisitmeri on a cer
tain occasion occupied the same bed. In
the morning one of them inquired of the
other:
"Dennis, did you hear thelkunder lest
night ?"
"No Pat ; did it rally thunder ?"
"Yes, it thundered as if hiven and airth
would come together." - • •
"Why in the divil thin didn't ye wake
me, ye know I kan't slape'whin it thun
ders."
An Irishman who was standing:on Lon
don bridge said to a youth, "Faqir - and I
think I know yese:• what's.•yer name?"
"Jones," said the boy. "Jones, Jones,"
said the Irishman, "I knew seventeen ould
maids by that name in Dublin; was with
er of them tier mither?"
A good story is told of a rather verdant
agricultural laborer, who, having by hook
and by crook scraped together fifty - dol
lars, took it to his employer, with a re
quest to take care of it for him. A year
after the laborer went to another friend,
to know what would be the interest on it.
He was told three dollab. said
he, "I wish you would lend me three dol
lars for a day or two. My boss -h:IS hem
keeping fifty dollars for ine a year, and I
want to pay him the interest for it."
At a trial in an Alabama town not long
since one of the witnesses, an old lady of
some eighty years, was closely questioned
by the opposing counsel relative to the
clearness of her eyesight. "Can you see
me ?" said he: "Yes," was answered. "How
well can von see me?"' •persisted the law
yer. "V4ll enough," responded. the lady,
"to see that yotere neithefi';:rie*, an
Indian, nor a gentleman." The -answer '
brought down the house, a:lni silenced the
counsel. .