The Waynesboro' village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1871-1900, November 07, 1872, Image 1

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BY W. LAIR
VOLUME 25.
TEE 'WAYNESBORO' VILLAGE RECORD
PUBLI6IIIID EVERY TIIURSDAY MORNING
•By W. BLAIR.
TEE MS—Two Dollars per Annum if paid
within the year; Two pollars and
Fifty cents after the expiration
• of the year.
ADVERTISEMENTS—One Square (10
lines) three insertions, 51,50; for
each subsequent insertion, Thir
five Cents per Square. A liberal
discount made to yearly adver
tisers.
10C.4_LS.—Business Locals Ten Cents per
line for the first insertion, Seven
Cents for subsea uent insertions
Vroftsionat .(ards.
J. B. AIVIBERSON, M. D.,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
WANNESBORO, PA.
Office at the Waynesboro' "Corner Drug
ore.'' [Jane 29—tf.
aE3 Z,
Has resumed the practice of Medicine.
OFFICE—In the Walker Building—near
the Bowden House. Night calls liould be
Inade at his residence on Main Street, ad
joining the Western .School House.
July 20-tf
C. N .SNI77 - M - LiY"
FOXSICIAN AND SURGEON.
WAYNESBORO' PA.
• Office at his residence, nearly opposite
he Bowden House. Nov 2—tf.
JOHN A. It IVNiSONG, •
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
:WING been admited to Practice 'Law
ill liusiness entrusted - to - his-care will be
1113
proinpt y a em e 0.
r 4.. erb urg, Pa.
TV. . - 1-0 #
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
• WAYNESBORO', PA,
Will give prompt and close attention to all
business entrusted to his care. Office next
door to the Bowden lluuse, in the Walker
[July 6
JOS T')H. 'DOT/OM-AS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
AN7 NESBOIIO',
Practices in the several Courts of Franklin
and adjacent Counties.
S. 13.—lieal Estate leased and sold; and
Fire lnsuranee effected on reasonable terms.
December IU, 1871.
OR,. A., ti, STREGIIIIERI,
(FORMERLY OF MERCER.SBURG 3 PA.,)
OFFERS his Professional services to the
citizens of Waynesboro' and vicinity.
DR. STRICKLER has relinquished an exten
sive practice at Mercersburg, where he has
been prominently engaged for a number of
years in the practice of his profession.
lie has opened an Office in waynesboro',
at the residence of George Besore, Esq., *i.s
Father-in-law, where he can be fount at al
times when not professionally engaged.
July 20, IS7l.—tf.
DR. J. M. RIPPLE. DR. A. S. BONEURAKE.
RIPPLE 8r... BONBRARE,
WAYNESBORO', PA.
Having associated themselves in the prac
tice of Medicine :nt Surgery, offer their'
profes:-ional services to the public. •
01lice in the room on the .•orth - Mst
Cor. of the Diamond, formerly occupied by
Dr. John J. Oellig, deed.
July 18, 1872—1 y
A. K. BRANFSHOLTS,
xi, E SIDENT DENTIST
. - Qa,•_3.,-..-7, - 17-, -, -f----.. , --
---) •
WAYNESBO 110', PA.,
riAN be found in his office at all times,
QJwhere he is prepared to pertimn all
Dental operations in the best and most
skillful manner.
We being acquainted with Dr. Br:lldg
holtssocially and professionally recommend
)tin 'to all desiring the services of a Dentist.
Dr , . E. A. HERING,
" J. M. RIPPLE
" A. 11. .STRIeKLER,
" J. B. AM BERSON,
• " I. N SNI V ELY,
" A. S. BO NBRAKE,
" T. D. FRENCH,
C. P,I2.i.A.CI=ILLI,
PHOTOGRAPHER,
S. E. Corner of the Ditund
WA 17N MI.101:0', PA.,
tiAS at all tunes a fine assortment of Pie
tures Frames Mid Mouldings, Call and
005 specimen pictures. June tf.
liniall HDTEL
Garner g f 2 b QizeQll)
CHAMBERSBURG, Penn'a.
I4NTZ kt UNGER, Proprietors
The UNION has been entirely retited
and re-furaished in every department, and
under the supervi.4on 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 Stablingand attentive Hostlers.
Dec. 14-1-y
Mt ...11.0.1r... fcat. sale,.
rr HE subscribers would inform the pub
, lie that they have now for sale a good
article of brick and will continue to have
a supply on hand during the siunnter sea-
MMOIMEI
June 13—tf
NOTACE TO RUILIIMRS.
Afine 1-t 1.?“ , . Lumber for sale
anti will be fitruip:lleil in rough, or hew
ed jn proper
‘ sizes to suit purelmsers of
Bills, Apply at 31oNrimr.Y tivitiNus.
April 4,1872—Ai
elut ottq..
AUTUMN LEAVES
El ff E=EE!
Oh, Autumn Leaves 1
My spirit grieves
That you so soon should fade,
The beauty bright
That charms our sight
On the earth's cold breast be laid
Oh, leaves so fair!
Your colors rare
A sweeter memory bring,
Than all the flowers
Of summer hours,
Or all the buds of Spring
Your haughty pride
Could not abide
The Summerl changeless green,
But you must wear
Those garments rare
Like mantles of a queen.•
You rob the skies
Of sunset's dyes
And mornings crimson flush
And then by day
YOur trophies gay
Bedeck each tree and bush.
----Tire
Will lay your beauty low,
And o'et your forms
December storms
Sweep wide the drifting snow
Then praise be still
To artist skill,
That spite of wind or storms,
Gives to our sight
In colors bright .
The beauty of your forms.
..../'..---' NEMORIBS.
'Tis only when we're far away
From those whom mAt we love,
•
That recollection claims its sway
And strength of love doth prove—
Tl e truthful heart will throb and beat,
Like waves which never sleep,
Wandering back in thought will greet
Its friends across the deep.
There is no love when memory sleeps,
For truth can ne'er forget—
The eye which never, never weeps,
Which tears doth never wet.
No index true of love can be,
No sign of well-kept troth—
Like bubbles floating on the sea,
'Tis made of air and froth !
atlisttllautaus Reading.
A TRAVELER'S STORY.
"Is this seat engaged, sir ?"
I glanced up from the paper I vas
reading and met the smiling regard of a
genial lookinc , man in the prime of
"It is not, sir."
"With your permission, then," as he
seated himself hesiie me.
The train had already started, and
presently the conductor made iis appear
ance collecting the tickets. Reaching us
he detached the appropriate coupons from
our tickets, handing back the reniainder
with the usual "checks."
"Pardon me," said my companion, "but
I perceive you placed your ticket in your
wallet"
" . 1 es."
"It is unwise, unsafe."
'Why do you consider it so?" I in
quired, with curiosity, returning the wal
let to my pocket.
";-_ , !uppuse, through carelessness, or, we
may say accident, your wallet is lust--
your-pocket may be picked fur instance.
"It would certainly be an .mdesirable
situation. I can see that clearly enough.
Pardon the question naturally suggested
—were you ever•so placed ?"
"Once ; only once."
"How is that ?"
"You wish to profit by my expe nee.
Well, I don't know that I mind telling
you the story. It may serve to Mime
you, if nothing more.
"It occurred a number of years ago,
and no consequence. I bad taken the ear
ly express train, and being somewhat tir
ed and altogether sleepy had stretched
myself upon a seat for as comfortable a
nap as circumstances would permit. I
slept soundly, for I could in those days
sleep almost anywhere, and did not awak
en until the conductor came for my tick
et. The essential piece of pasteboa'rd
could not be found. I was positive I pur
chased a ticket ; indeed I remembered dis
tinctly having shown it to the baggage
clerk at the time of checking my trunk.
"The conductor grew impatient, passed
to the other end of the car and returned
to me. I had made the discovery that
'my pocket-book had been picked, and in
proof of my story showed him my bag
gage check.
"It was useless. If you have traveled
much you are aware that a virtuous con
ductor takes no man's word ; in fact, all
men have designs upon the company's
dividends except himself. It was per
reedy natural, therefore, that the faithful
steward in question should say :
"The check is alright ; but bow do I
know that it belongs to you? I will take
the money for your fare or stop the train
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER---DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS, ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, f=toiMll,lB72.
and put you off, just as you choose.'
"What could I do? Protestations a-'
mounted to nothing, and my fellow-pas
sengers, with the usual tendency of hu
manity to trample upon a fellow-m an,
showed clearly by their looks and ex
pressions that they thought me a sneak
ing rogue who would steal a .passage if he
Could. They paid money, why should I
not pay mine? Few men would ever see
heaven if judgment was rendered by a
jury—except themselves.
"My search for the lost ticket had
brought to light about a dollar and eigh
ty cents. This, I told the conductor was
every cent I had about me. He said it
was about fifty cents short of the usual
fare to Lauderdale city, but that he would
pass me through for it rather than stop
the train. From Lauderdale, a city of
much importance, 1,, could write to my
partner for money. It would certainly
be as well as to tramp ten or twelve miles
back to the city I had lekand—where—l
should be no better off, being equally a
stranger there.
"In due time I found myself at Lau
derdale, went to the best hotel, telegraph
ed for money, and wrote an explanatory
letter to my partner. This business at
tended to, I sailed out to see what sort of
a place Lauderdale city might be. There
was nothing to do but amuse myself as
best I could until the money should come;
so I determined to make the most of my
involuntarily holiday. As I strolled leis
urely up the main street a newsboy star
ted out of a paper office crying :
"Daily Banner—extra edition—all a
bout the murder—great accident on the
E— Road," etc. "Have an extra ?"
"I took the sheet and thrust my hand
iti my pocket for the money without a mo•
men s_ s oug ' ou_ w - so I
feelings when compelled to return that
two-penny bit of paper to the boy, with
he - muttered excuse tV:tt - m a no c texge,
and the utter contemptuous expression on
the boy's face as he received it. I imme.
diately stepped into the office of the Daily
Banner and wrote a paragraph of my re
cent mishap, taking care to make it as a
musing as possible. When complete I
handed it to the clerk. He.red it, laugh
ed, and took it into the private office.—
Coming back a few minutes after, he told
the book-keeper to give me fifty cents.—
It was not much, but more than I expec
ted. Well, I continued my walk until I
finally reached the end of the street which
terminated at the S-- river, here span
ned by a long covered bridge. I crossed
the bridge and was surprised to see upon
reaching the. opposite side that I would
be required to pay toll. A young girl
came up to the door of the little office as
I stepped up and inquired how much I
should pay, drawing forth my solitary
shinplaster.
"Qh," said she, with a smile and a :light
blush, "we do not charge ministers any
thing."
"It was not a bad joke, but I suppressed
the laugh that rose to my lips, and thank
ing her for the consideration shown to the
clergy, I turned about and retraced my
steps to the hotel, not without slight twin
ges of conscience for allowing the mistake
to pass and taking advantage of it.
"My first duty next mornino b was to seek
some knight of' the razor. Ihad noticed
a pleasant little shop at no great distance
from the hotel in my walk the previous
day. Thinking I should do no better by
looking further, I repaired to that. There
was iu attendance a boy about twelve yrs.
of age, who stated that his father, the pro
prietor of the shop, had gone to a neigh
boring city, and would not return before
noon. Without any hesitation I asked
for the loan of a razor, and proceeded to
operate on myself. While thus occupied,
the customers began to present themselves,
expressing b oreatdissatisfaction on learn
ing how matters stood. Now, although I
am a proud man, I am not, thank God,
cursed with the species of vanity which
prevents a man's doing certain kinds of
honest labor simply because they are not
genteel. Here was an opportunity offer
ed me to at least earn the price of my
breakfast. I took advantage of it. Told
the first man that came in after I had
completed shaving myself I would shave
him. I did so. . In fact I did quite a
brisk business for a couple of hours, and
if any of the unfortunate individuals who
came under, my hand had any doubt of'
my fitness for the business, they certainly
expressed none. At the expiration of this
time I hal begun to think I had done
sufficient, and feeling rather hungry, hav
ing no breakflist I ' divided the proceeds
with the boy and prepared to return to
my hotel. But I was not done yet. As
I was brushing my hat a young dandified
specimen of humanity came in. Resolv
ed that he should' be the last. I went to
work upon him. When he came to pay
me I was, to say the least, somewhat sur
prised to see him deliberately produce my
own pocket-book—the one I had lost.—
Standing on no ceremony, I snatched it
f-oin his hand, and demanded in no gen
tle tone how it came in his possession.
Without stopping to reply other than
by a volly of imprecations, as he reached
the, door, he tumbled rather than ran down
itire stairs into the street. Waiting fir
ritaither hat or coat I followed—the pocket
tiO4 in my hand. When we measured
off considerable ground in a short space
of time. On, on. It was au exciting chase.
Men, boys, and dogs joined the pursuit;
the cries of "stop thief" growing louder
and increasing. What an uproar there
was. Suddenly there came a flash alight,'
sharp and vivid for an instant, then ut
ter darkness. A. policeman, mistaking
me for a thief, had gently tapped me up
on the head, as custom is, and with usual
•
result, the thief escaped, and the 1. - lain'
Iwas apprehended. My appearance told
heavily upon me, but my story being ful
.ly coroborated by the boy at the barber
I shop, I was released.
Upon examinkg the wallet I founuirny
own nioneyintact,and about one hundred
and thirty dollars besides. : That is all
the story."
"Not a bad speculation after all," said
I, as he concluded.
"Well, perhaps so. No, it was not ; but
still my advice holds good. Never place
railway tickets in your wallet."
A Sonora Story.
The following' rich story is related by a
Sonora paper, at the expense of a queer
genius who vibrated between that town
and Oregon, as "advance" agent of a con
cert troupe, and who, though pretty clev
er in "selling" the curiously inclined, does
not always come off first best.
' Frank Ball, traveling in a vehicle
bearing a strong resemblance to a ped
dler's cart. Old lady rushes out from
a house by the roadside. The following
-colloquy-ensues.
Old lady—" Say what have you got to
sell?"
Ball—"I am traveling agent, madam,
for the greatest menagerie of ancient or
modern times, which is shortly to be ex
hibited in this section, affording to the in
habitants thereof an opportunity of view
ing the mos tstupendous collection of ani
mals ever befbre exhibited."
Old lady=--"You don't say ;--have you
any elephants ?"
Ball—"We have, madam, six elephants,
but these constitute a comparatively un
important part of the show. We have
living specimens of the bipeds and quad
' rupeds who roamed the earth, not only
in the antediluvian, but also in the
plio
cene and postmiocene periods, embracing
the •niegatherium, ivith six legs and two
• • ' s * eves and
Ihr - ere — tails ; the—guyascutus,--with-no-eyes
two noses 'and four tails ; the plesiosaurus,
embling Satan hi . shape, which spi
fire and breathes sulphur, and many oth
er species to numerous too mention I We
also have an honest lawyer."
Old lady—" Well I do declare."
Ball—" But, madam, the greatest curi
osity by far of our exhibition is a learned
and clasically educated monkey, who was
brought up by a Mohammedeu priest in
the mysterious regions of the Great Desert
of Sahara. This monkey talks with great
fluency all the modern languages, besides
Latin Greek and Hebrew. He can re
peat the Ten Commandments„ the Eman
cipation Proclamation, can read Greeley's
manuscript t'other end to, can repeat
Grant's last message, turn fourteen som
ersaults both ways at the same time, and
perform the most intricate examples in
mathematics with rapidity, ease and ac
curacy. While being exhibited in the
city of Washington he actually smoked
thirteen cigars in presence of Gener a 1
Grant, and made a German speech in
French before a fenian club. This mon
key corresponds—"
Beautiful young lady suddenly stick's
her head from the window and calls out:
"Mother, mother! ask him why they let
the monkey travel so far ahead of the
other animals."
Romance in Real Life.
•AN EPISODE OF THE LATE WAR.
The Cleveland Plaindealer publishes
the following story : The familiar aphor
ism that truth is stranger than fiction re
ceives a fresh verification almost daily.—
Our neighboring city of Tiffin is just now
deeply interested in the sequel of a war
episode, which shows how romance some
times creeps into the events of real life.—
Earley in the war, Tiffin and vicinity
had a sort of itinerant preacher named
Downey.
,Upon the outbreak of the war, Down
ey entered the service as, captain of one
of the Seneca regiments, and when the
Government decided upou employing ne
gro troops, he became colonel of a color
ed regiment. During the campaign in
Tennessee. his regiment chanced to be en
camped upon the estate of Colonel 'Wash
ington near Nashville. The regiment
seems not to have. been under the best of
disciplin. They seized Colonel Washing
ton and threatened bim with death, and
also set about detroying the elegant fam
ily mansion.
Col. Downey, by great exertions, and
at the eminent risk of his own life,
succeeded in rescuing Col. Washington
from death, and saving the mansion and
other property from destruction. Col.
Washington felt profbundly grateful at
the time for Colonel Downey's brave ex
ertions in his behalf, and promised never
to forget them. There the matter rested,
and the wild scenes with which Downey
was surrouned soon drove it out of .his
mind. He remained at the head of his
regiment till the war was over, and then
returned to Tiffin and settled down into
a quiet domestic life.
Not long ago he died, leaving his fam
ily in straightened circumstances. Mrs.
Downey was driven to rely on her needle
for support. She and her children lived
in their humble way, with little thought
that a great change was soon to be wrought
in their condition. Recently Col. :Wash
ington died, when it was found that he
had willed his property, consisting of ten
thousand dollars in bonds and greenbacks
and three hundred acres of improved
land situated 'a mile and a half from
Nashville—the whole valued at one hun
dred thousand dollars at least—to the
heirs of Col. Downey.
Israel J. Downey, a son of the deceased
Colonel, has just returned from Nashville,
whither he went to see about the bequest.
He found everything concerning the will
as stated above. The administator of the
estate was in Tiffin on Monday arrang
ing details of the transfer.
The history of the great rebellion con
tains few more romantic episodes than
this.
A Desperado.
JortNerowN, PA., Oct.' 22, 1872.—Mi
chael Moore, the man who murdered his
wife last March near Mineral Point, this
county, and was tried before Judge Dean,
convicted and sentenced to be hung, has
received his death - warrant, signed by
Gov. Geary, and Wednesday, the 27th of
November, is appointed for the day of
execution. About a week ago the Sher
iff discovered Moore was making prepar
ation to escape under the walls and since
has kept.a close watch over his movements
that he might not escape. The death war
rant was.ieceived . Saturday. The Sher
iff had determined before reading the
'warrant to - place Moore in irons and in,
another and more secure cell. Knowing
the desperate condition of the prisoner
Sheriff lionacker -procured the .assistance
of ex-Sheriff Meyers and a Mr. Quartz,
and at once went about removing Moore.
7 Upon - ticeir coming to thedi:ior of the cell,
they discovered the. 'wretched man inside
armed with a lead pipe he had by some
means wrenched from .the line which
served as wastepipe from the cesspool of
his cell. Moore immediately showed fight
calling aloud he would kill the first
man who entered. Upon the Sheriff com
manding him to submit, he again made
the same threat.. _The_Sheriff—then-told
him he - would be compelled to fire upon
him . if he (Moore) would not submit.—
Moore bared his breast and told him to
shoot. The officer did so, and shot him
through the wrist. This appeared to ex
cite the prisoner all the more, when the
Sheriff was again compelled to fire, this
time shooting him through the leg.—
Moore still showing fight, the Sheriff with
drew and sought legal counsel. On the
art aain returuinT to the cell Moore
announces-- is -wi ingness o a e__move
but not by Sheritrßonacker, but by ex-
Meyers, who placed him — in — irons
and conveyed him to the cell assigned to
those under sentence of death, where the
death warrant was read to him. He is
now chained securely in a dungeon of ex
tra strength, to remain until the day of
doom.—P. Commercial.
Kind Words.
Not long since the news of the death of
a friend of mine reached me ; almost the
first thought that occured was how little
I had ever done to make that short, sor
rowful life happy. Many, many things
I remembered' that I might have done
when it was too late ; just as we all do,
when we stand beside those who have
gone.' We never regret the kind words
we have spoken, or the retort we have
left unsaid, but bitterly we recall sharp
words uttered angrily, and unkind ac
tions that may have caused tears to come
to eyes that will never shed them any
more.
None of us value sufficiently the vast
influence of kindness ; we do not think
how those around - us stand in need of it;
we feel only for ourselves. Alone, unwit
nessed—save by God—many conflicts
take place ; the poor human heart su ug
gles with sorrow. Let us try, then, and
do all we can •to make those about us
happy, if only with a kind word.
I remember when a child, being away
from home and feeling very lonely, I ac
cidentally met with a lady, who drew me
toward her, and said a few kind words.—
The words have forgotten long since,
but the impression they made is still
fresh as yesterday, and .as I look back
through years to that face it always seems
so young and lovely.
Kind words are like the flowers we may
scatter around us, whose fragranee rises
up like incense ; or, better still, they re
mind us .of the girl in the fairy tale, from
whose lips, when .slie • spoke, beautiful
pearls fell. But they are of more value
than pearls. From them we reap a rich
reward here, and they are treasures laid
up in Heaven.
The Oldest City.
Damascus is the oldest city in the world.
Tyre and Sidon have crumbled on the
shore. Baalbec is a ruin, Palmyra is
buried in the desert, Ninevah and Baby
lon have disappeared from the Tigris and
Euphrates. Damascus remains what it.
was before the days of Abraham—a cen
ter of trade and travel—an island of ver
dure in the desert, a presidential capital,
with martial and sacred associations ex
tending through thirty centuries. It Was
near Damascus, that Saul of Tarsus saw
the light above the brightness of the sun .
The street which is called Straight, in
which it was said he prayed," still runs
through the city. The caravan comes and
goes as it did a thousand years ago.—
The city which Mahomet surveyed from
a neighboring height, and was afraid to
enter "because it was given to man to
have but one paradise and for his part he
resolved not to have it in this world," is
tn-day what Julian called the "eye of the
East" as it was in the time of Isaiah "the
head of Syria." From the city of Da
mascus came the blade, so wonderful the
world over for its keen edge and wonder
ful elacticity, the secret of whose manu
facture was lost when Tamerlane carri—
ed off the artist into Persia, and beauti
ful art of inlaying wood and steel with
silver and gold, and a kind of mosaic en
graving at.d sculpture united, damasking,
with which boxes, bureaus, swords - and
guns are ornamented. It is still a city of
flowers and bright waters ; the streams
of the Lebanon and the "river of gold"
still murmer and sparkle .in the wilder
ness of Syrian gardens.
He who sedulously attends, pointedly
asks, calmy spenks,, c ooly answers, and
ceases when he has no more to say, is in
'possession of some of the best requisites of
man.
Subscribe for the Record.
THE OLE• THlNG.—There is a strange
plan in comming suddenly upon some re
ic of one's bygone youth--some lock of
golden hair, cut when your hair, gentle
lady, was golden which is so white now•-;--
some portrait painted when life was young,
when the lipss • red charm and the pride
of the brow were in their prime, when the
skin- was satin which is now parchment.
You feel it, too, strong man though you
are, and your lips curl half scornfully
un
der'your grizzled mustache r a.s y_ou_look a.
the face of the boyish bloom which a wan
&ring artist painted a quarter of a centu
ry ago. Was that you—that young face,
with the frank, fearless eyes which no care.
had made dim, the tell tale color, the.ea
ger mouth? What are the ambitions of
that olden time ? How different they were,
thOse•day drea Ms, from the ,sober schemes
of to-day ! How you hoped—how you trus
ted—the future. Now you are old and the
world - is cold, and - th rose color of youth
has faded into the sober gray of middle
age. This is a better thing you try to
think—you are wiser, you are stronger;
but there is a little pain, nevertheless, a
sigh of lotting for the "something sweet"
which •
•
"Follow youth with flying feet,
And can never come again.
A CALM AND PEACEFUL LlFE.—Said
a very 'old man, "some folks are always
complaining about the weather, but I am
very thankful when I wake up in the
morning to find any weather at all." We
may smile at the simplicity of the old than,
but still his language indicates that he has
a Spirit that contributes much to a calm
and peaceful life. It is better and wiser
to cultivate that spirit than to be contin
ually complaining of things as they are.
' •q • •-•- • , o - u. have
and if - God - sees - it will lye'for - your - aood
us -lie •
.4ve,--ynat
more. At least, do not make yourself and
others unhappy by your ingratitude and
complaint.
Chance is an unseen cause.
Patience is the key of content. '
The May of life blooms only once.
Vulgar nature alone suffers vainly.
The fear of ill exceeds the ill we fear.
' Time is an herb that cures all disease.
Children are the to•moriow of society.
No man can be wise on an empty sto,
mach.
To know how to wait is the secret of
success.
Study the past if you would divine the
future.
Graves are but the foot-steps of the an
gel of life.
A word spoken in season is the mother
of ages.
There is a foolish corner even in the
brain of the sage.
A joyless life is worse to bear than one
active grief.
Reprove thy fi lend privately 1 com
mend him publicly.
Innocence is like polished armor, it a
dorns and it defends.
Men blame themselves'only for the pur
pose of being praised.
Lies are hiltless words, which eut the
hands that wield them.
, All power, even the most despotic, rests
ultimately on opinion.
Voltaire defends the happy man as the
one who considers himself so.
Better make penitents by gentleness,
than hypocrites by severity.
Lay silently the injuries that you re
ceive upon the altar of oblivion.
Unlike the sun, intellectual luminaries
shine brightest aftei they set.
No fountain so small but that heaven
may be imaged in its bosom.
Offer up not to love. No love is gen
uine whose altar asks the sacrifice.
If thou art a master 'be sometimes blind;
if a servant, sometimes . deaf.
A secret is too little for one, enough for
two, and too much for three. _ •
It is easy to look down on others ; to
look down on yourselves is the difficulty
No one ever knew what friends were
worth until they had lived without them.
Temperance is corporal piety ; it is the
preservation of divine order in the body.
No man ever did a designed injury to
another, without doing a greater to him
self.
When Gcetbe was asked the secret of
success he defined it as 'a wise limitation.'
Nature has sometimes made a fool; but
a coxcomb is always of a man's own mak-
If yourlorses stand on boards, nil their
hoofs frequently.
. To cure bloody milk in cows, give one
tablespoonful of sulphur in a little bran
once a day. If a \try bad case, give twice
a day, in dry bran, of course.
Animals will fatten better in company
than in isolation. Remember this
' if
they are alone, they will lose not a,reiir
pounds of flesh iu pining for company.: —
Let your stables be light, dry and well
ventilated. Dark stables, help to bring ,
on blindness. Moisture and bad ventila
tion encourage glanders, farcy and niatiy
other diseases.
Three popular kings—smoking, drink
ing and talking.
$2,00 PER YEAR'
NUMBER 22
Vii# and alumor.
They will all do So.
A young man, son of a well-bAo - farnr- --
,er, had the misfortune to become deeply
enamored of a young lady, and after a
brief courtship proposed and was accept
ed. But what was his surprise one even
ing, when about entering the parlor with
all the unceremonious freedom of a lover,
at_discovering_his-inamorate-upon-a-sefar—
her arms around the neck of a neighbor
ing youth, and her lips in such blissful
proximity to his as to convince our hero
that matters were fearfully in earnest. In
rage and mortification he rushed home
ward, arriving just in time to surprise his
only sister, the pious wife of a village
minister, squeezing to kill, a young disci
ple of Blackstone. Nearly frantic with
such clis..ilosureq among people-he—believ--
ed to be little lower than angels, he made
a bold dash for the barn, running direct
ly upon his mother kissing the' old fami
ly physician, who had stolen a march up
on her as she was looking up the poultry.
This was too much, and with a groan the
young man turns, undiscovered away, re
solved to pass a night with his grief 'be
neath the stars, fearful of further devel
opments-should- he venture beneath the
shelter of another roof.
The morning encouraged him, howev
er, and dew-drenched and sorrowful he
finally sought his home, when his mother
with true maternal solicitude, questioned
him as to his looks, whereupon he related
the inconsistency of his fair betrothed, re
ceiving in reply the gratifying intelinnce
that she was a good-lbr-nothing
and that he must not speak to or notice,
her again-_-r-sheiras so. utterly_unworthy.
litruntoth - cr - " - he - c-eati - nutil7f. alterint—,
"that is not a
Ci I
imt I,n—there be_more-I— . " -
was the next question. ''Why, when I
hastened-home, what should I find but
my sister—my godly sister—in the arms
of a rascally young lawyer." •
"Your sister 1" shrieked the outraged
mother. "My child I The ungrateful
wicked creature ! Is it for this that I
gave her a home, and" cared for her bus
baud and children ? I will do it no more;
such conduct is infamous, and to be dis
graced ! She shall leave to-day and nev
er enter my presence again."
"When sick and discouraged by such
repeated, exhibitions of sin, I left the
house determined to sleep in the barn, I,
there found my mother kisSing old Dr. F."
"You did ?"
"I did?"
"Well, never mind, my son, they will
all do it.
How TO EET.-A Yankee arriving in ,
Boston :without money or friends was re
volving in his mind some plan wereby he,
could raise the "chink,' as he expressed
it.. Jonathan had never visited a city be
fore in his life. He strolled into a shoe
maker's Where an advertisement, "Wan
ted, a First Class Buot Maker," appeared
on the window, and accosted the proprie
tor :
"Do you want a first class boot maker
here ?"
"Yes."
"What do you pay?"
"That depends on your capacity. Have
you worked at custom work ?"
"I reckon. You just try me, captain,
I hain't sheered a bit at tryin'."
The proprietor gave his new hand a
bench and materials, and bade him make
a pair of ladies' gaiters. Soon after he
left the store on business.
Jonathaii made a shoe, but such a hor
rible affair, that, ashamed to show it, he
hid it in the leather shavings ; just as he
completed the second shoe the proprietor
returned. He flew into a passion at be
holding the botched sloe.
"You confounded rascal, so bad a shoe
as that has never been made in this estab
lishment!" he exclaimed.
"Would you like to bit on that, stran-
ger ?"
"Bet! Yes ! I will bet ten dollars no
such %work as that was ever done in this
store !"
Jonathan walked to the shavings, drag
ged fbrth his first shoe, and wooly pocke
ting his tee dollars, walked off.—lnland
Monthly.
A Jersey paper tells a very interesting
story of a little boy in that State. Ha
was climbing an apple tree, and, when
upon the topmost limb, he slipped and fell
to the ground. He was picked up and
and carried to the house in an insensible
condition. After watching by his bed
side through many weary hours, his moth
perceived signs of returning consciousness.
Leaning over him, she asked him if there
was anything she could do for him, now
that he began to feel better. Should she
bathe his forehead, or change his pillow,
or fan him? Was there anything that he
wanted ? Opening his eyes languidly, and
looking at her, time little sutrerer said :
'Yes ; I want a pair of pants with a
pocket behind.'
He got th,eua.„
Mark Twain'sOs Ben. Franklin wn
always proud of telling how he entered
Philadelphia for the first time, with noth
ing in the world but two shillins in his
pocket, and four rolls of bread under his
arm. That was nothing. Anybody e uld
have done ft.
"flow far is it to Cub Creek?" asked a
traveler of'a Dutch womsn at a fon gate
in Canada. "Onlirshoost a little Nays."
"Is is four;isix;eiglit or teu miles?" im
patiently a..4ted the, fretful traveler. "Yas,
I dinks ittie;! - ;'§er c enelireplied the unmov
ed
A little girl was tenderly nursing her
siet‘dell the other day, and on her moth.
er'eitsking her what ailed it, she renlied
"It got the Alabama. claims very Latt..4"