The Waynesboro' village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1871-1900, September 19, 1872, Image 1

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    BY W. EgAIR
VOLUME 25.
NESBORO' ;VILLAGE RECORD
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
By W. _BLAIR.
TERMS—Two Dollars per Annum if paid
within the year; Two Dollars and
Fifty cents after the expiration
of the year.
ADVERTISEMENTS—One Square (10
lines) three insertions, $1,50; for
each subsequent insertion, Thir-
Ave Cents per Square. A liberal
discount made to yearly adver
lasers.
MOClTA.—Business Locals Ten Cents per
line fox the first insertion, Seven
Cents for subsea neat insertions
tiroftssional ,
..",„ B. ANBERSON, M. D.,
.PETSICIAN AND SURGEON,
WAYNESBORO . % RA.
Office at the - Waynesboro' "Corner Drug
ore." , pane 29—tf.
33 _N 1 1 1 ,
Has resumed the practice of Medicine.
OFFICE—In the Walker Building—near
the Bowden llouse. sight calls should be
!made at his residence on Main Street; ;ad
doining the Western School House..
July 24)--tf
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.
WAYNESBORO' P.t.•
Office at his residence, nearly opposite
he Bowden House. Nov 2—tf.
JOILEN LINAISIONG,
• ATTORNEY AT LAW,
lIAVING been ad-trilled to Practice Law
.ILat the several Courts in Franklin Conn
tty, all business entrusted to his care will be
-promptly attended to. Post Office address
3dercersburg,-Pa.- -
LEW TV* DETB.IOIIip
ATTOtar-E,--Y—A-T—LAW
IVAY , NESIIORO 2 ,, TA,
Will give prompt and close attention to all
business entrusted to his care. Office next
door to the Bowden louse, in: the Walker
[july
sSSEI 6 I3_
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
I N ESBORO',
Practices in ale several Courts of Franklin
.and adjacent Counties.
B.—lteal Estate leased and sold, and
Fire Insurance effected on reasonable terms.
December 10, 1871.
Ri I E
(FORIIERLY OF MERCERSBV.RG, PA.,)
®citizens
his Professional services to the
1 1.ficitizens of Waynesboro' and vicinity.
DR, SriticKLEit has relinquished an exten
sive practice at Mercersburg,
been prominently engaged fort.
yearsin the practice of his profession.
He has opened an Office in Waynesboro',
at the residence of George . Besore, Esq., 't is
Father - in-law, where lie can be found at . 1
times when not professionally.engaged.
•
July 20, 187L-tf.
DR. .1. M. RIPPLE. DR. A. S. BONE,BRAKE.
RIPPLE .& ONERAIEE,
WAYNESBORO', PA.
Having associa.ted themselves in the prac
tice of Medicine and .Surgery, other their
professional services to the public.
Office in the room on the L\ orth East
Cor. of the Diamond, formerly occupied by
Dr. John J.dee'd.
July 18, 1872-11
A. K. BRANISHOLTS,
SIDENT DENTIST
WAYNESBORO', PA.,
AN be found in his (ace at all times,
1J where he is prepared to perform all
Dental operations in the best and most
skillful manner.
We being acquainted with Dr. Branis
lloltssocially and professionally recommend
him to all desiring the services of a Dentist.
Drs. E. A. HERING,
" J. IL. RIPPLE,
" A. H. STRICKLER,
" J. 13, AMBERSON,
" I. N SNIVELY,
" A. S. BONBRAKE, •
" T. D. FRENCH,
C.
PHOTOGRAPHER,
2.- E. Corner of the Diamond,
IV.4.yNEsnonce,
- nr AS at all times a fine assortment of Pic
tures Frames and Mouldings. Call and
pas specimen pictures. June tf.
I JIIIDH 110TE'L
Cgrnei fk eI:NOR StSte
CHAMBERSBURG, Penn'a.
LANTZ & UNGER, Proprietors,
The UNION has been entirely refited
And re-furnished in every department, and
under the supervision of the present pro
prietors, no effort will be spared to deserve
a liberal share of patronage:
Their ,tables will be spread with the
best the Market affords, and their Bar
will always contain the choicest Liquors.
The favor of the public solicited.
Extensive Stabling and attentive Hostlers.
Dec. 14-1-y
Xtzlcir... raa: Maio.
MHE subscribers would inform the pub
-1 lie that they have now for sale a good
„article of brick and mill continue to have
a supply on hand during the summer sea
son. , 13. F. & li. C, FUNK.
June 13—tf
NOTICE TO BUILDERS.
A fine lot Pine Building Lumber for sale
/land will be furnished in rough, or hew
ed in proper sizes to suit purchasers of
Bills. Apply at NIoNTEnEY Srazcs,
April 4, 1872—tf
:.,' gutt
WE CAN MAKE HOME MAP?!,
Though we may not change the.cottage
For mansions tall and grand,
Or exchange the little grass plot
For a boundless stretch of land—
Yet there's something brighter, dearer,
Than-the wealth we'd - thuse .
Though we have no means to purchase
Costly pictures, rich and rare—
Though we have not silken hangings
For the walls so cold and bare,
WC can hang them over with• garlands,
For flowers bloom everywhere.
'We can always make home cheerful,
If the right course we begin, •
We can make its inmates happy,
And their'truest blessings win,
It will make the small room brighter
If we let the sunshine in.
- --W-e-can:gatherlround. the fireside
When the evening hours are long-
We can blend our licarts and voices
In a happy, social song ;
We can guide some erring tkother—
Lead him from the path of wrong.
• We may fill our home 'with music,
And with sunshine•briming o'er,
If against all dart intruders
We will firmly close the dooi—
Yet should evil shadows enter,
We must love each other more.
— There-are-treasures-for—the lowl
Which the grandest Lill to find,
There's a chain of sweet affection
.Finding friends of kindred mind—
, !Ve way reap the choicest blessing,
From the poorest lat assigned.
PisteHatton eta ling.
Shaving a NiUlonaire.
Everybody who lives in New Jersey
will recollect Billy Gibbons, the million
aire. He was an eccentric man, and nu
merous stories are told of his freaks. Here
is one of them ;
It seems that Billy, while in a.country
village, in. which he owned some proper
ty, stpped into a barber shop to get shav
ed. The shop was lull of customers, and
the old gentleman quietly waited for his
turn.
A customer, who was under the bar
ber's hands when the old gentleman came
in, asked the "knight of the razor," in au
undertone, if he knew who he was ? and
on receiving a negative reply, he inform
ed him in a whisper, it was "Old Billy
'Gibbons, the richest man iu the State."
"Gad," said the barber," "I'll charge
him for his shave.
Accordingly, after the old man had
had that operation performed, he was
somewhat surprised upon asking the price
to be told "Seventy-five cents."
"Seventy-five cents!" said he quietly,
"isn't that rather a. high price?"'
"It's my price," said he of the lather
bruskindependently,"and as this ii the on
ly, barbar's shop in this place, them as
wines into it must pay what I ask."
To the old man this was evidently a
knock-down argument, for he drew three
quarters of a dollar froth his.pocket, and
paid them over to - the barber, and left
the shop.
A short time after he was in close con
versation with the landlord of a tavern
hard by, and the topic of conversation was
"barber" shops."
"Why is it," said, he, "there's only one.
barber's shop in town ? There seems to
be nearly work enough for two."
"Well, there used to be two," said the
landlord, "till last winter, when the new
man came up from the city and opened a
a new shop, and as everything in it was
fresh and new, folks sort of deserted Bill
Harrington's shop which had been going
for nigh fourteen years."
"But didn't this Bill do good work?
didn't he shave well, and—cheap ?"
"Well, as for that," said the landlord
"Bill did his work good enough, but his
shop wasn't on main street like the new
one, and didn't have so trimly pictures
and handsome curtains, and folks got in
the way of thinkinm b the new chap was
more scientific andbro't more city fash
ions with him, though to tell the truth,"
said the landlord, striking a chin sown
with a beard resembling screen wire, "I
never want a lighter touch or a keener
razor than Bill Harrington's."
"City fashions—eh ?' 3 growled the old
man. "So the new man's city fashions
shut up the other barber', shop?"
"Well not exactly," said the landlord,
"though things never did seem to go well
with Bill after the new shop opened ;
—first, one of his little children died of a
fever'; then his wife was sick for along
time, and Bill had a big bill to pay at
the doctor's ; then as a last misfortune,
his shop burned down one night, tools,
brushes, furniture, and all, and no insur
ance.
'Well,' said the old man, pettishly,
'why don't he start again?'
't,aft again I' said the communicative
landlord, 'why bless your soul, he hasn't
got anything to start, with.'
'll—m--m ! Where does this man live?'
asked the old man.
He was directed, and ere long was in
conversation with the unfortunate tensor,
who corrobated the landlord's story..
PIP Vlc) 444 47L1 ;J1 >fteffp 4!l_6_) No )11 03# ('J A I t 4 ;ILA# VIVA >0 K•l•flii sZt) **!_ii )14 , 11 >0
'Why don't you take a new shop ?' said
the old' man, .there's a new one in the
-barber's
(tett. i_.
shop,'
'What said the other,' you must be cra
zy. Why, that block belongs to old Bil
ly Gibbons; he'd never let one of these
stores for a barber's shop ; they are migh
ty sight too good ; besides that, I haven't
got twenty dollars in the world to fit it
up with.
'You don't know - old billy Gibbons as
well as I do,' said the other. 'Now listen
to me. If you can have that shop all fit
ted up, rent free, what will you work in
it for by the month ? what is the least
you can live on ?'
as proposition somewhat startled the
unfortunate hair-dresser, who finally found
words to stammer out that perhaps twelve
or fifteen dollars a month would be about
enough.
‘Pshaw !' said the old man 'that won't
do. Now listen to me--I'l give_you_that
store, rent free, one year, and engage your
services six months, all on these condi
tions. You are to shave and cut hair for
everybody that applied to you, and take
no pay ; just charge it all to me, and for
your services I'll pay you twenty dollars
a month, payable
_madvance—pay to
commence now,' continued' he placing two
ten dollar notes on the table before the
_astonished barber—who it is almost un-
necesary to state, accepted the proposition,
and who was stil?more surprised - t - o — kara
that it was Billy Gibbons himself who had
hired him. ,
In a few days the inhabitants of that
village were astonished by the appearance
of a splendid new barber's shop, far sur
passing the other in elegance of appoint
mer ts, and in which, with new mugs,
soaps, razors and perfumes, stood a bar
ber and assistant ready to do duty on the
heads and beards of the people. Over
the door was inscribed, `William Har
rington, Shaving and Hair Dressing Sa
/Mr
The people were not long in ascertain
ing or availing themselves of the privile
ges of this establishment, and it is not to
be wondered that it was crowded and the
other deserted. The other held out some
weeks, suspecting this free shaving—for
Bill kept his secret well—was but a dodge
to entice customers away, who would soon
be charged as usual ; but when at the end
of six weeks he found Billy working a
way as usual, charging not a cent for his
labor, and having money to spend in- the
bargain, he came to the conclusion that
he must have drawn a prize in the lottery,
or stumbled upon a gold mine, and ,was
keeping a barber's shop for fun, so he
closed his sh,opin• despair, and left the
place. _ _
Meantime, 'Bill Harrington' kept on
busy as a bee, and One fine morning . his
employer stepped in, and, without a word,
sat down, and was shaved ; on rising from
his chair lie asked to see the score for the
six:months past. The barber exhibited
it, and after a careful calculation, the old
man said :
"Plenty of customers; eh ?"
"Lots of 'em,:' said the barber, "never
did such a business in my life 1"
"Well," replied Money Bags, "you have
kept the account well. I see I've paid
you one hundred and twenty dollars for
services— all right—and there are three
hundred and thirty charged for shaving
all that applied ; now this furniture cost
one hundred and eight dollars ; balance
due you one hundred and two dollars.—
Here it is. Now you own this furniture,
and are to have -the shop rent free six
months longer, and after to day you are
to charge the regular price for your work,
for your pay from me stops to•day."
This of course the barber gladly assen
ted to.
"BLit," said the old man on leaving, 'take
care you never cheat a man by charging
ten times the usual price of a shave ; for
it may be another "old Billy Gibbons."
TROUBLE.—Trouble is more frequently
made than sent. If every person would
take the world as it is, its joys and sorrows
and yield, at once, an humble reconcilia
tion to what is unavoidable, there would
be far more happiness, and infinitely, less
misery than there is.- Six thousand years
experience 'ought to convince mankind
that there are clouds here as well as sun
shine, and the man who starts life with
the expectation that every thing before
him, will be smooth and uninterrupted is,
simply a dreamer Who knows nothing of
the world's realities. 'Wealth cannot shield
us from disappointment and affliction, and
poverty are not as heavy, on the heart, as
the cares brought on by the possession of
uncounted riches. We cannot keep death
away from our door, no matter how faith
hilly we may guard its portals, nor can
we so control the minds and dispositions
of others that the most tender ties and as
sociations are not at times, snapped asun
der. Let us take matters as they come
and try to be content. If we are prosper
ous, we should 'rejoice and give God the
praise. If we fail in our enterprizes and
find our plans of business dwarfed and
thwartec:, let us submit cooly to the visi
tation, and try again, with renewed hope
and effort. There is no use in lamenting
when lamentations will do no good, or
shedding tears when they only tend to
highten our sorrow. The grave will soon
cover our troubles, and there is a happy
life beyond, which we can make our own,
no matter how the world treats us.
This is the way it is do — ne in—Urand-Ha
ven, according to the Herald : "The other
night a young man propounded the usual
questions to the idol of his heart. She laid
her soft, white hand in his, put her head
upon his manly shoulder,
hove a sweet
sigh of resignation , and in dulcet accewts
that sounded like sweet music upon the
water, whispered, "Yes, dear, anything to
beat Grant.'
rigit opposi e le o
A Sad Story.
NEWPORT R. 1.. Se at. 2.—Geo. W.
Howard of Rome, N. Y., will be remem
bered as the gentleman who was married
at Sharon Springs, on Wednesday last,
and was on his way to visit his br6ther at
Pawtucket, R. 1., when he lost his bride
of a day by the late Metis disaster. The
next morning what was supposed to be
his wife's body was found, and it was re
ported in these columns that her funeral
would take place at Sharon Springs yes
terday. The initials "N. A." were the
same as on his wife's rings, though it was
of a different pattern, yet he did not feel
positive that it was his wife. Being near
'-,trxhausted Td
_airsta. ,imsett; and not in a condi
tion to think about it, he concluded it
must be her. Accordingly a coffin was
procured at Stonington, and he started
Saturday morning fnr.the home of his
loved one. He arrived there Saturday
evening with what he supposed was th(
the
remains of his wife, but on opening
the coffin at the residence of his wife's pa
rents, they discovered at once that it was
not their daughter. The, scene that fol
lowed can be better imagined than de
scribed. The afflicted husband at once
returned to Stonington, and forwarded
the corpse by express. When he arrived,
he found another man searching for the
body he supposed was his wife. In the
meantime r his_frieuds_in_P_awtooket_bati=
_heaul . -ofthe lady who—was-picked up-by
the schooner A. B. Belden and brought
to Newport, and had telegraphed to tle
undertaker for a description, which he
gave, and at the same time had a photo
graph taken and sent alio. This convinc
ed them that the body which has been in
this city since Friday night was no other
than the wife of Mr. Howard. Be, in 1
company with his brothel, arrived here
this morning, and at once identified her.
The scene that follows beggars description.
As the husband gazedsupon the remains
of his dearly beloved he was deeply af-
fecte ,- as were a presen Tffe — bo s y
was taken away on the 12 o'clock boat,
via. Wickford, and will be taken at once
to Rome, N. Y. She' was twenty-eight
years of age, and bears a striking resem
blance to ie woman the husband. had
supposed his wife. Mr. Howard states
that the coat found on. her was placed,
there by himself to keep her warm, and
that moment after they were washed from
the Metis, and that all his exertions to
save her were fruitless. It is a sad story,
probably the most heartrending one that
can be told of the terrible disaster.—N. Y.
Times.
BE SENSIBLE.—Do not be above your
business. He who turns up his nice nose
at work, quarrels with his bread and but
tea He is a poor smith who is afraid of his
own sparks ; there's some discomforts in
all trades except chimney sweeping. If
sailors gave up going to sea because of the
wet ; if bakers left off baking because it
is hot work ; if ploughmen would not
plow because of the cold, and tailors
would not make our clothes for fear of
pricking their fingers, what a pass we'd
come to ! Nonsense! my fine fellow
there's no shame about any honest call
ing, don't be afraid of soiling your hands;
there's plenty of soap to be had.
All trades are good to traders. Luci
fer matches pay well if you sell enough
of them. You cannot get honey if you
are frightened at bees, nor plant corn if
you are afraid of getting mud on your
boots. When bars of iron melt under the
south wind, when you can dig the fields
with toothpicks ; blow ships along with
fans ; manure the crops with lavender wa
ter, and grow plumcakes in flower pots,
then will be a fine time for dandies ; but
until the Millenium comes we shall all
have a deal to pirt up with.
STILL THEY COME.—Fortune Snow
lives away down in Tennessee, and he is
one hundred and twenty-two years old.—
At least he says so, and nobody can dis
pute it. Fortune has a sprightly grand
son ofsixty-five, having been married over
one hundred years ago. Remembers the
Revolutionary war ? Ho! what's that ?
This venerable Snow was a vigorous youth
of twenty-five when it commenced. He
shows uo sign of melting, and may last
through many a summer yet., We are not
informed on the tobacco question. If he
uses the weed that accounts for his longev
ity. If he doesn't use it, that accounts for
it, too.
No person can possibly know whether
there is in him the tendency to inebriety
until it is stimulated into development.—
No person can possibly even have this de
velopment except by the use of alcohol.—
The man who totally abstains is safe, ev
en though the tendency to inebriety may
lurk within hini, the fatal legacy of an
ancestor. The man who drinks, no mat
ter how cautiously or moderately, may
wake up this devil which no human pow
er can control. Health and safety are on
the side of abstinence, while danger, dis
ease, and premature death are in the path
way of the habitual drinker.
WHAT MAKES MAN.—It is mot the best
things—that is, the things Which we call
best—that makes men ; it is not the pleas
ant things ; it is not the calm experience
of life ; it is life's rugged experiences, its
tempests, its trials. The discipline of life
is here good and there evil, here trouble
and there joy, here rudeness and their
soomtheness, one working with the other
which necessitate adaptations constitute
that part of education which makes a
man dman, in distinction from an animal
which has no educatioh. The successful
man invariably bears the mark of the
struggles which ho has had to undergo,
on his brow.
A stylish bannet can be obtained from
Paris for $126. Indulgent husbands will
cut this out to show to their wives.
SPEAK ®ABLY,
When-ushers-in-the-orb of-day,
And birds are 'warbling on the spray.
• d - bees commence there humming,
When dew-drops glisten in the sun,
And house wife has her work .begun,
. Speak kindly.
To smooth the cares of every day,
And lighten, burdens by the way,
And cheer tile panting spirit, -*
Through all afliiirs of daily life,
And free the mind from painful strife,
Speak kindly.
When night succeeds the day of toil,
And evening hours we would beguile,
And rest upon our couches,
Not knowing but some loved one near,
Before the dawn may disappear,
Speak kindly.
To cheer tho downcast bruised heart,
And smooth he pang ofsorrows smart,
And calm the troubled breast;
To the wake erring to reform,
And help from evil ways to turn,
Speak kindly.
Kind words are balm to every soul—
They tend to make the wounded whole
-
• 1
• let us smooth tller - mth — Tif life,
And ease the pains of cares and strife,
By always speaking
The German Seventh-Day
Baptists.
These oppressed Christians, conscientious
ly regarding the requirement of the Lord,
to hallow the seventh day as.the Sabbath,
and finding no repeal of the obligation it
imposes, nor avy_transfer_of_the-day-to-be
sanctilied,in the Scriptures,are constrained
to honor that day alone, unto the Lord.
-Thig-service-does—nm-ariseont-a amtw
priciousness in them, but from an abidinf ,
obligation, imposed by the Majesty — a
Heaven, which they cannot throw, aside,
at any sacrifice, short of incurring His
displeasure and indignation. This amyl&
is not of their own election ; neither is the
day a matter of their choice. The insti
tution—the specific day—is imposed by
the Most High ; and until he abrogates
it, or absolves them from the service,
they must regard it as their solemn, im
perative duty, strictly to adhere to, and
conscientiously to obey. "Remember the
Sabbath day to keen it holy—The sev
enth day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy
God, in it thou shalt do no work:"—is
the sacred, theawful injunction.
This is the source of their conscientious
scruples on this subject. It does not sat
isfy them to be told that it is the "Jewish
Sabbath." The Scriptures nowhere speak
of a "Jewish" or a "Christian" Sabbath.—
The Sabbath is but one, and has but one
name—" The Sabbath of the Lord thy
God ;" which the Scriptures declare is the
seventh day, instituted more than two thou
sand years before there was a Jew in the
world; and consequently could not have
been a Jewish Sabbath." Christ, who is
Lord of the Sabbath, asserts that it "was
made fbr man"—the whole race of man
—not a particular race or people, but fcr
mankind at large. I shall only add on
this point, that if it can be shown by a
single passage in the New Testament, that
Christ Jesus, our Lord and master, or his
inspired apostles, have transferred the
Sabbath, from the Seventh to the first day
of the week, the advocates for the. sancti-
fication of the seventh day, one and all,
will cheerfully recognize the validity of
the change and yield implicit obedience
to the requirement when that requirement
is adduced; but until that transfer is
shown in the clear, explicit language
of Holy Writ,—not based on vague
and strained inferences, they will protest,
as in duty bound, against such a per—
version of the word of God, and must
adhere, despite of all coercive penalties to
drive them from their profession, firmly
and immovably, to the express injunction
of the Lord, to hallow the seventh day—
the only Heaven-appointed weekly Slab- ,
bath.
The Seventh-day Baptists have never
asked any protection for the Sabbath they
honor ; have never desired to force it up
on others ; have never attempted to inter
fere with the law at large—they have
never asked for aught but exemption from
the penalties of a law that in their view
conflicts with the word of God—a law de
structive to equal rights and the free ex
ercise of religious conscience; and this
only in virtue of . being Sabbath-keepers,
and claiming no more than most of the
other States of the Union have cheerfully
accorded :—nay, spontaneodsly provided
for them in advance of their asking for it ;
which a reference to the statutes of Maine,
Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York,
New Jersey, Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri,
Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, Illinois,
Arkansas, and lowa, fully attest (other
Slates may have been equally liberal, but
I have not within my reach the statutes
of the remainder to examine them).—
Louisiana has passed no Sunday law ; con
sequently has no restriction whatever.
Without making any pretentious to any
special favors, if any denomination of
Christians in the commonwealth deserves
any particular consideration from the Gov
ernment of Pennsylvania, or indeed from
the Federal Government, it is the German
Seventy-day Baptists. Persecuted in their
"Vaterland," they left, their homes and
their kindred, to reek an asylum in the
wilds of America, where they might "sit
under their own vine and fig tree, and
worship Almighty God, according to the
dictates of their own consciences," there
"being none to make them afraid ;" and
arrived in Boston early in the last centu
ry. But suffering from the rigor of the
Puritan dynasty,. ;they, on assurances of
perfect religious freedom, removed, in 17-
20, to Penns , Ivania, then commonly cal-
They settled in.the interior,of the Prov
ience, and were among the first pioneers
who penetrated the wilds beyond th e
Schuylkill. As a quiet and industrious
people, they improved the country, and
made 'the wilderness blossom as the rose;'
and from the earliest period of their oc
cupation of the soil, they have rendered
important services to the country. Re
garding conflict with arms as unbecoming
the Christian profession, still they were
ever the advocates of equal right, and
succored the struggle for "Liberty and _ln
dependence," ,to an. extent no other denom
ination, can boast. During the French
war (the war of 1756,) the doors of their
whole establishment at Ephrata, Lancas
ter county, then thgir only settlement,were
thrown open, as a refuge to the scattered
inhabitants of Paxton and Tulpehocka,
the extreme frontiers, froni the excursions
of the hostile Indians, when all were re
ceived and entertained by the Society,
without charge, during all the period of
danger and alarm; upon hearing of which,
the Royal Government sent a company of
infantry from Philadelphia. to pr • •
retreat. •
At this seat of learning and piety, the
Declaration of Independence was transla
ted into seven different languages, by Pc-
teFlUiller, to *whom it was sent -- fo-r—that
purpose, at the suggestion of Chas. Thomp
son, the distinguished secretary of the Con
tinental Congress, to be forwarded to the
different courts of Europe. After the bat
tle of Brandywine, in 1777, the whole es
tablishment was thrown open to receive
the wounded American soldiers, sent thith
er by Washington himself; great numbers
of whom (400 to 500) were taken to that
place on-wagoAR F -a-distance-offrouL sixty
-to-seventy miles, were nursed, fed, and
comforted under their sufferings, and one
hundred and fifty to'two hundred of whom
had their dying_ eyes closed by the pious
an sof the brethren and sisters, and were
interred in Mount Zion 'Cemetery, where
their moldering bodies now repose. •
These are some of the services and sac
rifices which the German Seven-day Bap
tists made for the cause of civil and relig
ious liberty. Their only reward has been
persecution. They have never received—
they never asked anything at the hands
of the,Government,but liberty of conscience
and equality of civil rights. They ask for
no exclusive privileges. They disclaim
all right of human government to exer
cise minority over, or fetter in the least,
the religous rights of any bein g . While
in civil affairs, they respect " the powers
that be," and strive "to obey those in au
thority," yet, they contend for the inde
feasible right of observing the laws of God,
as declared in his word, without-abridge
ment therefrom, in their civil rights. They
recognize the laws.of the land in secular
matters, and honor the laws of'Gocl, and
God alone, in religous faith and practiJe.
These are the inalienable rights of all the
members of the Republic. These are rights
reserved by the people to themselves in the
formation of the Government ; which they
consider no power can legitimately wrest
from them.
We do hope that the present Legisla
ture will not rise, Without displaying a
magnanimity, commensurate with the en
larged policy of her sister States, above
alluded to, in'reference to this •natter, and
remove the disgrace of intolerance from
our Institutions.
Commending this important matter in
this brief manner to the members of the
Legilature; and trusting to their patron
ism, I close with the earnest, yet respect
ful admonition ; Do unto others as you
would that others should do unto you in
like circumstances.
W. 1%.1. FAIDTESTOCK.
WHAT HE'D Do FOR HER.—An up
country editor heard a loyal hearted chap
say that he loved a certain lady well e
nough to die for 'her. Mr. Quill was im
mediately seized with a spasm, the results
of which were of a serious nature. He says:
I'd swear for her—l'd tear for her,
The Lord knows what I'd bear for her;
I'd lie for her, I'd sigh for her,
I'd drink a grocery dry for her,
I'd cues for her, do wuss for her,
I'd kick up a thundering fuss for her,
I'd weep for her, I'd leap for her,
I'd go without my sleep for her,
I'd fight for her, I'd bite for her,
I'd walk the streets all night for her,
I'd plead for her, I'd bleed for her,
I'd go without my feed for her,
I'd shoot for her, I'd boot for her,
I'd rival who'd come to suit for her,
I'd kneel for her, I'd steal for her,
Such is the love I feel for her,
I'd slide for her, I'd ride for her,
I'd swim 'gainst wind and tide for her,
But—hang me if I'd die for her
N. B.—Or any other woman.
How many words are in common use ?
Max Muller says: "A well educated per
son seldom uses more than three thousand
or four thousand words in actual conver
sation . Accurate thinkers and. close
reasoners, who avoid vague and general
expressions, and wait vill they,find the
word that axactly fits their meaning, em
ploy a larger stock, and eloquent speak'-
em may rise to a command of ten thou
sand. Milton's works are built up with
eight thousand, and the Old Testament
says all it has to say with five thousand
six hundred and forty-two."
A prominent citizen of Norristown; ap•
proaching his sleeping apartments a, few
days since, ut a late hour, gently tapped
at thedoor. "Who is it?" inquired• hie
better half,to which very.proper interro-:
gatory the heartless Man replied by asking,
"Whom do you expect at this hour ?"
82,00 PER TEAR
TiWit and Xunror.
Swallowing a Man,
John Thomas was a man of keen wit,
and strongly tinctured with a love of the
humorous. He had been down to Con
cord, and had seen the Fakir of Ava per
formed his worderful tricks of legerde
main. He was relating his experience in
the barroom of the Conway House, and
among other things he declared that he
had gained an insight into many of the
most wonderful tricks, and that he could
p :dorm bimself.
"For instance," said he, "I can swallow
a man whole."
"Bah !" cried Tom Staples, a red-faced
woodsman, weighing at least_two-hundre
"p'r'aps you can swallow me ?"
"Yes."
"I'd like to see you do it."
"I can do it."
"I'll bet you fifty dollars you can't.
"I'll take that bet."
"Then let's see you begin."
"Not now. I have just eaten supper.—
I will do it to-morrow morning in the.pres
enee of as mauy witnesses as you_ehaose,'
• ittirstrtlrbe done in the square in front
of the hotel."
This was agreed to, and the money was
put up. By the following morning the
news that John Thomas was to swallow
Tom Staples Whole had become wide
spread, and a vast concourse, embracing
men, women and children, had assembled
to witness the - wonderful - feat.
At- the appointed time the chief-actors
appeared in the square. John Thomas was
smilingly confident, as though sure of suc
cess; while Tom Staples looked a little
timid and uneasy, as though not quite
.at
rest_concerning what was to become of
him.
"Are you ready ?" ansiverecLTom.B&_--
gin as soon as you please.' .
"Will you have the goodness to take oft'
"Sartin."
"Now your boots."
Tum'rernoved his boots.
"Next, you will remove your coat.—
Those big brass buttons might stick in my
throat."
Tom took off his coat, and as he threw
it upon the ground one of the cooks came
out from the hotel 'with a pan of melted
lard and a big whitewash brush, which was
also deposited by the side of John Thomas.
"Now, pursued John, you will take off
your stockings,and then remove your pan
taloons and shirt."
"Eh ? D'ye mean for me to strip stark
naked ?" queried Tom aghast.
"Of course I do. The agreement was
that I was to swallow 'you. You are meat,
but your clothes ain't, nor were they in
the bond. If you will strip I will give
you a thorough greasing, and double the
bet, if you wish. I know I can swallow
you—or, at all events I can TRY 1"
Tom
. gave up beat, and invited his
friends into the hotel.
"Doctor," exclaimed a wagish Son of
Temperance to a well known doctor, "how
long will it take hanging to produce death?'
"Twenty, or at most thirty minutes,"
replied the doctor, "but why do you ask?"
"0, because last night I saw a man
hanging for two hours, and he is not dead
yet."
"You did," exclaimed the doctor em
phatically. "I havn't heard a -word of
this yet. Where was the man hanging ?"
"He was hanging around a lager beer
saloon," replied the wag.
The doctor gave utterance to something
that sounded like a blasphemous expres
sion and passed on.
A St. Louis Dutchman lately com
plained to the Mayor that if the boys
didnt stop swimming in the rivar where
his daughters could see them, he would
make trouble. "Ali ! Mr. Schemerhorn,"
replied the Mayor, "if I remember right
your house is more than half a mile or
more from the river." "Yaw, dat is so,
but den you see, my gaist dey got spy
glasses.
Somebody . have applied to an editor
for a method by which he might cure his
daughter of her partiality for young gen
tlemen, is kindly informed that there are
several methods of reform. One good way
is to skin the young person ; another is
to put her into a well and drop a few
loads of gravel onto her head ; another is
to bind her ankles to an anvil and upset
her out of a boat.
An august Senator, who is getting a
little bald, was the other day asked by
his heir, "Papa, are you still growing?"
"No, dear ; what makes you think so ?"
"Because the top of your head is coming
through your hair."
Queer people, the Yankees. The citi
zen of Brookline Mass. we alluded to tho
other day as having been fined for driv
ing a nail on Sunday, has since published
a pamphlet of sixty-four pages of explan
ation.
"I want to know," said a creditor, fierce
ly; "when you are going to pay me what
you owe?' "When I'm going to pay you?
Why, you're a pretty fellow ! Do you
take me for a prophet?"
We notice in an Indiana exchange the
marriage of a Mr. Bogus, of Spicelpnd, to
a Miss. Diamond. The chances are that
there will be a production of bogus dia
monds.
i m A Kentucky editor says a neighbor of
his is so lazy that when he works in the
garden he moves about so slowly that the
shade of his broad brimmed hat kills the,
plants.