, Oh ° C‘o l _ jbøxi 111 .age -• 4tortir.--'s• BY W. BLAIR. VOLUME 24. tint pottrg. THE BETH. 0? LIFE. Go forth to the Battle of Life, my boy s Go while it is called to-day For the years go out, and the years come in, Regardless of those who may lose or Of those who may work or play. And the troops march steadily:on my boy, To the army gone before ; You may hear the sound of their falling feet, Going down to the fiver where the two world's meet; They go to return no more. There is room for you in the ranks, boy, And duty, too, assigned ; Step into the front with a cheerful grace se outckTor - another - rmay - take your place 4 lid you may be left behind. There is work to do by the way, my boy, That you never can tread again ; Work for the plow, adze, spindle and pen; Work for the hands and the brain. The serpent will follow your steps, my boy To lay for your feet a snare ; And pleasures sit in her fairy bowers, 1r With garlands of poppies and lotus flowers, Enwreathing her golden hair. --TemPlations-will-wait-by-the-wayboy Temptations without and within; • And spirits of evil, in robes as fair • As the holiest angels in heaven wear ; Will lure you to deadly sin. Then, ptit on the armor of God, my boy, IA the beautiful days of youth ; j Put on the helmet, breast-plate, shield, And the sworil that the feeblest azxi may wield the cause of Aight and Tcxith, Piscellatteous 3e44inff. WHAT Ems. GILES DID. A GOOD STORY FOR EVERY DAY LIFE Mrs. Giles stood in the front yard, hang ing up her Monday's washing—the last piece had found itS place upon the line. ;'Done at last,"said Mrs. Giles, speaking to herself, a habit which she frequently indulged: "Now, if dinner was oui of the way, 1 might find time to finish IRonard's suit, this after noon ; I've had it around so long. If I only had a sewing machine, how much Twonld accomplish," and pick ing up her basket,she went into the house. The prospect within, was not very cheer ing ; the wash tub to clear away, and din ner to plaCe upon the table. Just as she had begun to lay the table, Mr. Giles ap. peared at the door, and said : "Put au ex tra plate ; that man will take dinner with us." Dinner was soon ready, and as soon dispatched, for ceremony was one of the unknown things in the Giles finally. Mr. Giles and the stranger retired to the sit ting room to discups the merits of a new reaper and mower, while Mrs, Giles re mained and cleared away the dinner ta ble. When she had finished, and made herself ready for die, afternoon, she went into the siitinc , ° room. The stranger was about taking his leave. Mr. Giles was . saying to him : "If you have any new thing, any thing better, any thing . that will make work ea sier, and do more of it, I am your man ! 1 am in favor of all machinery that will lighten work for man,;' emphasizing the work MEN. "Why, b'ess you, just look around my farm.'4l.Vs run mostly by ma chinery." "Profitable? certainly," re plied he to an interrogation, from the stranger. "More than pays eN,penses.— Money in the bank," he added„ never o mitting an occasion of mentioninga small deposite he had in the city bat*. The stranger was gone at last, and Mrs. Giles sat down with weary limbs and aching shoulders, to finish a suit of clothes she was making for her oldest son, a lad of fifteen. Slowly and wearily the needle went in and out; stich after stich was ta ken, but to verylittle purpose ; it did seem as if she never would come to the last. But, if stiches progressed slowly, her thoughts flew fast enough. The last voi.ds of her husband lingered in her mind, and again they recurred to her. "Yes," said she, at last, breaking forth into soli loquy, her usual habit when much dis— turbed in mind. "Yes, men can have their bard . * lightened,, but poor women May drudge. Every year, Giles has ad ded something new to his farm implements, when I have to plod along with hardly sufficient utensils"to cook a decent dinner; an old stove, without a boiler or whole griddle, and cracked door. No wonder I cannot bake a loaf of bread decently." Then here I have to sit e and stitch for a w. • eek at this suit, when two hours on a machine would complete the whole suit.': It is needless to record all of Mrs. Gil es' thoughts and words, as she sat stitch ing the hours away. A dim eckrFicious ness of her wrongs, and a faint determi nation to assert her rights, was *ging her mind. She .had, so long given up her opinions, set aside her needs, and fo - tered the selfishness of her husband, that, t was bard to break through the meshes cif halo it which his stern will had woven around Ler. Ine afternoon wore away, anSI Mrs. Giles laid aside the unfinished garment to prepare the evening meal. The next morning at breakfast, she remarked to her husband that an agent for a sewing ma chine had called the day previous, and wished her to try one of his machines.— "I told him," she said, "he might leave one when he came next week." Mr. Giles laid down his knife and 'fork, and sat with utter amazement depicted on his counter nance. "A sewing machine !" he gasped, when he had recovered himself. "He, needn't leave any of his new-fangled 'hum bugs here. I've no use for them." "But I have," interrupted his wife. "You !" interrupted he, "I don't see what use you have fOr a machine. Yuu could never learn to use it, or if you did, what have you to SOW ? Only my clothes and the boys. Women, now-a-days, are getting mighty independent, wantin g machines to do their work; too lazy to do it themselves. Sup pose they want time to gad about and gos sip about their neighbors," • 'Why, rplip—" q`Womaa's work is nothing," continu: ed Mr. Giles, not .Heeding the interrup .tion. "My mother had not as many cen veniences for doing her work s you have, yet she always had her meals regular,and Well cooked, and that is mare than I can say for you. No, I don't want any sew ing. machines about,my house. God made as good a sewing machine as I want when he made woman." With this ultimatum, -he left the table, and taking his hat he mou rated=his-horse-aud-rode-away-tolook at the new reaper he contemplated buy ing. One by one the members of the fam ily finished their breakfast, and passed out, leaving Mrs. Giles alone. She sat with her head resting upon her hand; her thoughts wondered back to the days when in the freshness of her youth, she gave her heart's deepest and best affections to Phil- 1 ' lip Giles. Blinded by her great love for him, she saw not the extreme selfishness coarseness of 114 nature. Sli — e believed all his promises, and heeded not the warning of het friends. It seemed a long time sincß then, so many shadows had darkened her pathway; darker yet seemed to grow life's rugged journey. She saw her six sons growing tip around her, amidst rough and evil influences, without the ability wholly to counteract them.— Mrs. Giles remained a long time bowed over that breakfast table, praying with a sense of helplessness and a feeling ofneed, such as she had never befbre experienced. A loud rap at the door startled her s On opening it, she found Mr. Harris had cal led to pay off a note which bad long been due ; a note Mr. Giles had often declared he should never be enabled to collect.— "The poor wretch," he insisted, "will nev er be able to save enough to pay his hon est debts, while his wife spends all his earnings on such foolish things as patent washing machines." , Mrs. Giles informed Mr. Harris of her husband's absence, but said she would at tend to, the business. When all was sat isfactorily settled, and Mr. Harris had gone, Mrs. Giles sat for sonic time looking at the roll of money in her hand. At length a new thought came into her mind. Carefully placing the bills in her pocket, she went into the kitchen, and hurriedly finishing the morning's work, and then dressing herself she walked down to the railroad station, which was but a quarter of a mile distant. She was in tiii a fbr the morning train for the city, some ten miles away. It was nearly 4 o'clock in the afternoon when she returned home.— M. Giles was still absent .; Leonard, the eldest son, stood . in the yard with the team. "Heigho, mother," said he, "I was just going to look for you. I thought it was too bad for you always to walk."— "Well, my son," she replied, "you would not have found me; I've been to the city." "The city! gee -whitaker," and Leonard gaVe a prolonged whistle, "Yes," .said .NErs. Giles, getting into the wagon, "and now I wish you to go to the station with me, and bring hc me my purchases." Leonard mounted beside her saying: "And so the old man did shell out for once in his life, and give you a little mo ney, did he?" Mrs. Giles reproved Leon ard for speaking thus of his father, but he continued: "Well, I can't lull) it; I think it a mean shame; he never gives you a cent to spend, but sends you to the store at the station, with the same old or der : "Please let the bearer have what she needs." I'd make it convenient to NRED a great many thino.s, if I were you." W3S late when Mr Giles returned. He hastily dismounted and gave his horse to one of the boys. Entering the house, he called for his. supper in no gentle tones. Rigtunately supper was just ready, Hay ing. satisfied his ravenous appetite, he a rwe from the table saying; "Come, boys, it's time you. were in bed; I'll want you up by daybreak in the mprniug," and set ting the example, he went to lied and was soon sound asleep. About 11 o'clock Mrs Giles having finished herwork, and made preparation, for an early breakfast, retir ed to rest. .Tjeing very such fatig . uel by the day's excitement, she soon slept heavi ly: • After the first nap Mr, Giles was rest less and uneasy:- he tossed and turned from side to side,, but no more sleep for him. He concluded to get up. Having dressed himself he took the candle and proceeded to the kitchen. The slender tallow dip threw a lurid, light around the kitchen. There stood,a ; new stoxe,_ with, its black and polished face, smiling upon him, a row of bright and, shining tinware was neatly arranged on,the shelf behind it. Turning, his eyes fell upon 4 wash ing machine with a wringer attac4d; tak ing hold of the crank, and giv,ingg a turn or two, he said : "A sewing machine, by thunder; but Low in the name of com m,er sense they sew on it, is mozetn I can 01," Placing the candle on tl gt. table, hih'eame in enntart. with t i t p li to_ n t : 4 2 l l. l 3r y.. ly•tip.t, another blasted concern I Roily!, Polli' ; '• he exclaimed, seizing the cache A FAMILY'NEWSPAImit,,,,,DEvarEn ziErg f RATURE, LOCAL .AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC. WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN BOUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL•II, J 872. and hurrying back into the Sleeping room, In his haste, his foot caught in the frame Work of the sewing machine, and he fell full length in, the middle of the floor, while the candle found a resting place on the opposite side of the room. Mrs. Giles, suddenly roused from a sound sleep, started up in a bewildered manner, Saying: "What is it, Philip ?" What's the matter?" "Matter enough," growled he, picking himself up and rescuing the candle from its close proximity to the bed clothes—" Who has been filling up the house with all that trumpery, and who do you think is going to pay for it? If you think I am you are much mistaken." Mrs Giles sprang from the bed and as-. sumed an air of dignity. "Philip Giles," said she, "I have always faithfully en deavored to do my part as wife and mo ther. I have ,patiently borne my priva tions, thinking them necessary to husband our means, while you have used money without stint, to purchase machinery to ligten your work. Now I have• resolved upon a change. What modern improve nientsthe.e are to facilitate woman's work I intend to have. Nay, do not interrupt me," she continued, as Mr, Giles made Itn effort to speak. "Those things are paid for, with the money dear old grand father left me by his will, You loaned it to Mr„Harris,doiag me neither the honor nor the justice to have the notes drawn in my name. Yesterday he paid it, I went to the _city and made those _ purchases ;_ th. 7 cost less than the mower you have just bought. The rest of the money I pla ced in the Savings Bank." "In your name, I suppose?" said Mr. Giles. "Yes, in my name," continued Mrs. Giles, "that I might have the use of it when I wished. This farm was pur chased with a part of that legacy, and hereafter I intend to see that my rights are respected, and my legal claims rightly adjusted." And-she-did. A MODERN WIFE. "You're a pretty-girl to be married !" said an aged aunt to her niece. "Why, what do you know about housekeeping— just from a hording school? I am sure your husband has need of a mint of mon ey ?" "La, aunt, I expect to board you need not think I shall bother my head abeut domestic. affairs. Everybody hoards miil" who gets married genteelly, the first yeae." "What shall you pay a week for such kind of living ?" inquired the aunt. "Mr. Hyde says, that ho can get first class board and accommodations for fif teen dollars. two rooms beautifully situa ted, and I'm awe that's cheap enough." "What is Hyde's salary ?" "Why, six hundred dollars now, and the promise of promotion—perhaps eight hundred before the year is oat." "So you are going to live on perhaps, are you ?" Nosy let me tell you, Susie, you talk foolishly. If your husband is at present receiving six hundred, do you lay by one of them ? It's all nonsense to go beyond your means." "Why, aunt, nobody would respect us if we did not live as stylish as other peo ple, There is a great deal in beginning." "True, child ;'that is what I am trying to impress upon you." The year passed away. Susie lived in style, paid fifteen dollars for board, receiv 'ed her genteel acquaintances, worked some very fancy netting, drew a few sketches from old paintings, grow tired of board ing, and was just entering upon fashiona ble housekeeping, when, 10 !- a defalcation came out. I-lyde had taken money un lawfully, was arrested, held to bail, and a prison stared him in the face. Susie did not believe him guilty ; they had always lived so economical, and it could nut be. But the trial proved otherwise and he convicted and sentenced to imprisonment for years. "How came you to do, so 'Hyde?" ask ed the good old aunt. "To please my wife'S fancy," was the reply. "She wanted to live like other people, and wishing to gratify her, in this way I committed my first breach of trust." • The broken-hearted wife lamented the beginning she had made, when, alas! it was too late to rectify it. She found re spectability preferable to gentility. She now lives at her Other's, with, a worse than widow's sorrow to harrow her feelings, and takes in sewing for a livli hood. The plain road to ruin is here clearly marked out. Are see what must have been the result of such a course, but aro not thousands of others sacrificing their hus band's reputations by less obvious but still as certain courses of extravagance. .4way with the nonsensical thought that gentility demands such a sacrifice beyond one's ability. If you value the opinions of the truly worthy and estimable, you will find them always on the side of pru dent expenditure and economical living. "Cut your garment to suit your cloth," is an old maxim—but the sentiment is as true now as in olden time. A life or gaudy show may•do for a butterfly, nev er for a man or woman who expects to survive one season. • The wife should strive to aid the hus band in the toils of life, and honest indus try hardly ever fails of bringing health and contentment. Then, young man, look well 'ere you: make choice of a life partner, Nobody. is sati,sfied in this world. If a kegacy If, left a man, he regrets it is not larger, If he finds a sum of money he searches the spot for more. If he is rich and wants for nothing he strives for more wealth. If ha is ra F l r tnin man h e is e ‘.« for a wife and it a married,jtum. for children.. How to get on in the World. A working man some time ago publish ed his own biography, one of the most in teresting little volumes that has appear. ed during the .present century, It is as follows : "It'may to some appear like vanity in me to write what I now do, .but I should not give' my life truly if I -omitted it.— When filling a cart with earth on a farm I never stopped work because my side . of the cart might be heaped up before the other side, at which was another work man. I pushed' over what I had up to help him ; so doubtless he did to me when he was first and I was last. When I have filled my columns of a newspaper with matter for which I was to be paid, I nev er stopped if I thought the subject requir ed more explanation, because there was no contract for more payment, or no pos ibility of obtaining more. When I have lived in a barrack room, I have stopped work and taken a baby from a soldier's wife, when she had to work, and ,nursed it for her, or gone for water for her, or clear ed another man's accoutrements, t.mough it was no part of my duty to do so. When .I. had been engaged in political literature and travelin. ,- fbr a newspaper, I have gone many miles out of my road to ascertain a local fact, or to pursue a subject to its minutest details, if it ap peared that the public were unacquainted with the facts of the case, and this, when I - had - the work,was the most pleasant and profitable. When I. have wanted work I have accepted it at any wages I could get, at a plow, iu farm draining, stone quar rying, breaking stone, cutting wood, - in - a sawpit, as a civilian or soldier. Iu Lon- don I have groomed a cabman's horse and cleaned out a stable for six-pence. I have since tried literature, and have done as much writing for ten shillings as I have _readily obtained—both sought fbr and of fered—ten guineas for. But if I had not been contented to be gin at the beginning and accept ten shil lings, I should not have arisen to guineas. I have lost nothing by working, ,whatev er I have been doing, with spade or pen. I have been my own helper. 'fire you pre pared to imitate? Humility is always the attendant of seuce, folly alone is proud.— A wise divine, when preaching to the youths of his congregation, was wont to bay ; "Beware of being golden apprenti ces, silver journeymen and copper mas ters." "They only cure for pride is sense; and the only path to promotion is conde scension. What multitudes have been ruined by the pride of their hearts Here is testimony worth treasuring in mind by everybody. Keep the Gitte Shut. An Eaglish farmer was one day at work in his field, when hesaw a party of hunts men riding about his farm. He had one field which he was specially' anxious they should not ride over, as the crop was in a condition to be badly injured by th e tramps of horses. So he dispatched one of his workmen to this field, telling him to shut the gate, and then 'keep watch over it, and on no account suffer it to be open ed. The boy went as he•was bidden; but was scarcely at his post before the hun ters came up, peremptorily ordering the gate to be opened, This the boy declined to do, stating the orders he had received, and•his determination not to disobey them. Threats and bribes were offered,. alike in vain, one after .another came forward as spokesman, but all" With the same result ; the boy remained immoveable in the de termination not to open the gate, After a while one of noble presence advanced, and said in commanding tones : "My bow, do you know me ? I are the Duke of Wel lington, one not accustomed to be diso beyed ; and I command you to open that gate, that I and my . friends may pass thro'.' The boy lifted his cap, and stood uncov ered before the man whom all England delighted to honor, then answered : "I am sure the Duke . of Wellington would not wish me to disobey order:. I must keep this gate shut, nor suffer any one to pass but with my master's express permis sion." Greatly pleased, the sturdy old warrior lifted his own hat, and said : "I honor the man or boy who can be neither bribed nor frightened into doing wrong.— With an army of such soldiers I could conquer not only the French but the world.' And handing the boy a glittering, sover eign, the old duke put spurs to his horse and galloped away, while the boy ran off to ,his work, shouting at the top of his voice: "Hurrah, hurrah ! I've done what Napoleon couldn't eo—l've kept out the 'Duke of Wellington."—Christian Week ly. SAVE, Lrrrtu.—Every man who is obliged to work for his living, should make it a point to save up a little money for that "rainy day" which we are all lia ble to encounter when least expected. The hest way is to keep an account with the savings bank: Accumulated money is al ways safe; it; is always' ; , :-ady for use when needed. Scrape to ! ".er five dol lars, make your deposite; receive your bank-book, and then resolve to deposite a given - sum, small though it be, once a month, or once a week, according to the circumstances. Nobody knows without trying it how easy it is to save money when an account with a bank has been opened. With such .an account a man feels a desire to enlarge his deposite. It gives him lessons in frugality and econo my, weans him from habits of extrava gance, and is the very best guard in the world against intemperance, dissipation, and vice. Preserve. your conscience always soft and sensitive. If but oue sin forces its .1 • • ;i" V. • tat; Z.4V , L1.1 r , suffersd•ts.dwirthere, ilsbroad is pay edfor s thciurapil iniquities.. ROPE ON. BY ERB. ANNIE E. LOWERY. ' When thy life, like cloudy weather, Is with darkness overcast, ,And fate whirls thee like a feather, Borne upon the wintry blast; .F l 'en when darkest skies are lowering, Let not hope forsake thy heart ; Perchance it may, like summer's flowers, In glorious radiance start. Hope thou on, when fate betide thee ; Hope alone can comfort give ; While thou hast a friend beside thee, Thou must have an aim to live. Hope. but not too much in earthly— Fleeting things that pass away ; Ere the anxious hand has grasped them, They have mouldered to decay. • Hope, but not for fame or glory, Transient meteors, luring on To a gilded name in glory; All too dearly are they won. Hope thou on, but not to follow After titles, rank, or wealth; This world's titles oft are hollow— 'Riches cannot give you health. Hope thou on, yes, hope forever, In the trust that faileth not; Hope when we've crossed deaths river, With the just to cast our lot. Hope still looking toward the fountain, Whence all healing waters flow ; Hope that in the holy mountain We the joys of heaven may know. How to Speak to Children. It is usual to attempt the management pf children either by corporeal punish ment, or by rewards addressed to the seas es,, and by 'words alone. There is one other means of govermnent, the power and importance of which are seldom re garded‘—l refer to the human voice. A blow may be inflicted upon a child, ac companied with words' so uttered as to counteract entirely its intended effect; or the parent may use language quite ob jectionable in itself, yet spoken in a tone which more than defeats its influence.— What is it that lulls the infant to repose? It is an array of' mere words. There is no charm to the untaught one, in letters syllables and sentences. It is the sound which strikes its little ear that sooths and composes it to sleep. A few notes, how ever unskillfully arranged, if but read in a soft tone, are found to possess a magic influence. Think we that this influence, is confined to the cradle? No; it is diffus ed over age, and ceases not while the 'child remains under the parental, roof— Is the Is the boy growing rude in manner, and boisterous in speech? I know no in strument so sure to control these tenden cies as the gentle tones of a mother. She who speaks to her son harshly does but give to his conduct the sanction of her own example. She pours oil on the al ready raging flame. In the presence of duty we are liable to utter ourselves harshly to children. Perhaps a threat is expressed in a loud and irritating tone ; instead of allaying the passions of the child, it serves directly to increase them. Every fretful expression awakens in him the same spirit which produced it. So does a pleasant voice call up agreeable' feelings. Whatever ' disposition, therefore, we would encourage in a•Child, the same we should manifest in the tone in which we address it- P.vritorto Prc-runri.George Will iam Curtis paints the following pathetic picture, which every one could . wish less true to nature : "I think of many and many a sad eyed woman I have known in solitary country homes, who seemed never to have smiled, who struggled with bard hands through melting heat and pinching cold to hold bdck poverty and want that hovered like wolves about an ever-increasing flock of children, How it was scour in the, morning, and scrub at night, and scold all day long ! How care blurred the window a cloud hiding the lovely landscape low anxiety snarled at her heels, dogging her like a cur! How little she knew or par ed that bobolinks, drunk with blithe idle ness, tumbled and sang in the meadows below, that the earth was telling the time of year with flowers in the woods above. As I think of these things, of this solita ry, incessant drudgery, of the taciturn husband coming in heavy with sleep, too weary to read, to talk, to think, I do not wonder that the mad houses are so richly recruited from, the farm houses as the sta tistics show." A man ought to, carry himself in this world as an orange tree would if it could walk up and down in the garden, swing ing perfume front every little censer it holds 1:p to the air. A celebrated writer says that if one could read it,. every human beinkr carries his life in his face,, and is good looking or the reverse, as that life has been good or evil. A just and reasonableMod(NtY does not only recommend eloquence. but *lets off every talcut which a man can be possess ed ef. - Afflicton fall upon some as the genial showera upon earth's bosom, to cull forth air timers from seeds long sterile. There may be a hundred geese with all their quillii In one pen. Science ihoiva clearly that man has liv ed upon this. earth for more than 6,000 years. IC you always live with those who are law., you wiii yourself learn to. Limp. . 4frays.ctx4 hand—Your thumb,. Camp Meeting Incident Some of our readers may remember the story of soaping the Signal horn. . The story rius that when a certain re vivalist celebrity took up the horn, to summon the worshipers ti, services after dinner one day, he blew a strong blast of soap all over the astonished brethren. It is also said by the chronicler of this "item" that he mied out aloud: "Brethren, I have passed through ma ny tribulations and trials, but nothing like this. I have served the ministry, for thirty years, and in that time never ut tered a profane word, but I'll be--if I can't whip the man that soaped that horn !" Well this is a strong story ; but we have from• a reliable authority, something a little stronger in the sequel to the same incident. This is given as follows : Some two days after the horn soaping a tall, swarthy, villainous-looking deperda do strolled on the ground and leaned a gainst a tree, listened to the eloquent ex hortation to repent which was made by the preacher. After a while he becam interested, finally affected, and commenc ed groaning in the "very bitterness" of his sorrow. The clergyman walked down and endeavored to console him. No cousolatiou—he was too great a sinner he said. Oh, no—there was pardon for the vilest. No, he was too wicked—there was no hope for him. "Why, What crime have you commit ted? said the preacher, `haveyou stolen?" "Oh, worse than that !" "What ! have you by violOnp,e robbed femaleinnocense-ofits-virtuer- "Worse than that—oh, worse than that!" "Murder is it? gasped-the now horri fied preacher. "Worse than that !" groaned the smit ten sinner. • The excited preacher commenced " eel ing off" his outer garments. Here, brother Cole !" he shouted, 'hold my coat. I've found the fellow that soap ed that horn." Josh Billings on Jersey Lightning. Jersey lightning is eider brandy, three hours old, still born, and quicker than a flash. The juice iz drunk raw by all old sports, and makes a premonitory and his sing noise az it winds down the throat like au old she goose setting, on eggs, or a hot iron stuck into ice water.' Three horns a day of this licker will tan a man's interi or in six months so that he kan swallo live six footed crab, feet fast, and not waste a wink. It-don't fat a man (cider don't) like whiskee doz but puckers him up like fried potatoes. If a man kan survive the fust three years drinking &racy lightning,ho iz safe for the next 75 years to come, and keeps looking every day more and more like a three year old pepperpod, hotter and hotter. An old cider brandy drinker will steam, in a sudden shower of rain, like a pile ov stable manure, and his breth smell like a bunghole of a rum cask lately emp tied. When Jersey lightning iz fust born it tastes like biling turpentine and cayen ne, half and half, and will raise a blister on a Bair of old cowhide brogans in 15 minutes, i and applied.externalry will cure rumatism or -kill the patient, I forget which. The first horn a man - takes of this licker will make hint think he has swal lowed a gas light, and he 011 go out be hind the bar awl trie to die, but kant.— The eyes of an old - cinderbrandiSt looks like deep gashes cut into a ripe tomatto, hiz note is the komplexshun of a half boil ed lobster,' and • the grizzle in his- gullet sticks out like an 'elbow in a tin lieader. The more villainous the drink; the more inveterate are those who drink. I kant tell yer whether cider- brandee will shor ten an old sucker's days or not, for they generally outlive' all the -rest of -tho ria burs, and die just as sow' as the old:tavern stand changes .hands, and iz -opened on temperance principles. puelwttle-ov- sas ir saparilla or ginger popp isas fatal to these !old fellers as a rifle ball iz tew a bed-bug. Z.7—An item .is go- ing the rounds of the exchanges, stating. that• a woman school teacher in Utica,. Wisconsin, allows the pupils five minutes to go out and see the railway. train when it passes. This is a sensible teacher. In old times the windows of school houses were built so high as to prevent the lit tle prisoners from look ing. out, and. an elephant might pass by and the little ur chins be compelled to keep there eyeson. their books, lest they might through the. open door, catch a glimpse of the anima. No wonder boys and girls came to. hat school hours, and to look upon: then its the darkest hours of ' the twenty-lbw...— That woman teacher in Wisconsrn. is sound in her head ; she favors "object teaching," she would give- a. recess were a menagerie to pass or a 'circus band to go , and the children would study 'all the harder for the indulgence.. FELON ON THE FINGED.—Many per sons suffer'extremely tiom felons on the finger. Thaw afflictions are not only Pain-. ful, but • frequently occasion permanent crippling of the members affected. The following simple prescription is recom mended as a cure for this distressing fUr mont. common. rock salt, and). as is used for salting down pork or beef; and mix with spirits of turpentine in equal parts ; put on a rag and rap around the affected part, and as it gets dry put on more, and in twenty-four - houri you are cured. The felon will_biolea4. London. 19 the largest- city in. the world, far surpassing all those of antiqUity: cording to,Gibben, the popfulatien 'offal; dent ltame, in ,the height:of' its cence, was 1,00,000; the .popultitlintif. Pekin.. supposed to be about, 000,000 that t;v7-- ,00,0X42=1 i ; twelfth of the Fipillatkortliof the , whOW I.7n4ted;States., •2,00 PEE YEAR NUMBER 45 and:flinnor frii}r is an old maid like an unsqueezed lemon? Sha'n't tell! \......-- Why are the poor like carpets? They are held down by tax. Many young men are so improvident they cannot keep anything .but late hours. he minister who boasted that he could preach without notes didn't mean bank notes. A Toledo young man was quite smit ten by his neighbor's wife. She smote him with the rolling pin. When a man has "no mind of his own" his wife generally gives him a piece t:if __hers. Who was the straightest-man-meation ed in the Bible? Joseph, because Plt roah made a ruler of him. 1 The man who steadily went through the whole bill of fare, and tonk each dish in succession, may be said to have "din ed out." "Peter," said a mother to her son, "are you into them sweetmeats again?" "No, ma'am; them sweetmeats arc into.me;" A Danbury, Connecticut, dog has learn ed to bring in eggs from the barn,and his delighted owner names him Leig Hunt. ' A clergyman asked a sea captain his views about a future state, and was an swered that, he did not meddle himself with state affairs. sent-minded resident of Danbu shut down a, window, / on( ay, and for got to draw in his head. He was calling for Helen Blazes when discos Bred. The latest fashion in trimming , bonnets is with four or five small humming-birds on the front, with lace rosettes and4ib. bons.. The next thing. will 'be .to-have a bird's nest on the top. ect,a California . Fair, recently, several bottles of strained honey wereput on ex hibition, when a chap put a bottle of castor oil with the rest. The opinion of all who' tried it was, that the bee that-made it was a fraud. „: • "What countryman are you? inquired an English gentleman of a. vagrant. "An Irishman, please your honor." His lord ship b ask:d, "Were. you ever at sea r— "Ccime, your honor,' answered Paddy, "d'ye think I crossed from Dublin in a wheelbarrow ?" And Irishman who was reprieved tho night before the time set for his execu tion, and who wished to get rid of hiS wife, wrote to her as follows : "I was yesterday hanged and died like. a hero ; do as I did, sud bear it like man." A couple in Oregon got tired of. Hying together, and mutually signed a paper which they drew for themselvei—toewith giving her husband a full *.ditdrce, and wishing him all the happiness. he:could get," and the husband giving liis - wife - a little rat Colored, . A 'HIED bad . tak en into'hi's service, for general utility, a Door lad, for whose spiritual' welfare' ho was of course, bound to;look out. De siring one morning to put in practice his benevolent intent, he called the boy to his study, and with a; visage of the gray : - est sort said : "Sam, do you know you are a sinner?" "Yes," falteringly' replied Sam. "Do you know what • will become of you, if you do not repent?" Receiving no coherent reply, •he launched into repentance and redemption encouraged by the - evident impression made by his' words, and feeling no. small ,compunction the While that he had so long neglected a 'subject of grace' prOmpt ly responded:. "Sum, what is a sinner?" Imagine the situation •when the 'sub ject of grace' promptly responded: "Sinner,. sir ? Yes,sir ; sinners is strings in turkey's legs, sir." The sinews of the parsons face relax ed.. In. Boston, many years ago, there lived (as there:do now,. we -Venture to say,) two young fellows, rather waggish , in their ways, and. who were in the habit of patxo nizino• a tailor by the name of Smith.-- Well, one day into his shop. these two young bloods strolled. Says one of them : "Smith we've been: making a bet... Now we' want yon to• make each, of us a suitof clothes, wait till the be is decided, and the one that lesses'will pay the whole." " . ‘Certainly,, gentlemen, shall. be ruu,t happy to serve you," says Smith.. And forthwith their measures were- ta ken, and in due course of time the clothe:3 were sent home. A month.or twb passed by, and yet our friend, the tailor,. saw nothing of his customers. Oneslay,. how ever, he met them., and thinking it was almost time the bet was decided,. he mad up to them,and askelhow, their clothes fit- ted.. "0, eiMellently," - sajls one., ".E.vrthe-bye, Smith, our bet i,nt decided yet." • "Ah !". says Smitin."what mit 9 .7 "Why, I bet that. when. Bunker Hill Monument falls, itteill.fall towards the ioilth- Bill, hcre,,took roe up,.and when :tkii , liet.is - decidetleguiLeu,ll-Iud4RRY Yon *ii. little bill " ' . • -_!7 , k4,41.1.: , ...... er.. .11-r,t-i.lisql to rintlilkt 491 1t...- 414 4 gi but ke,soon„roeoveretihiis ‘‘von -4-1 A.„u *.t . ..yy.t nior. , ,- ;.,:,': . . . .4: •
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers