BY W. BLAIR
TOLITKE 25.
THI.WAYAESBORO' VILLAGE IMOD
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
By W. BLAIR.
'TERMS—Two Dollars
within the year; Two Dollars n and
Fifty cents after the expiration
of the year.
ADVERTISEMENTS— One Square (10
lines) three insertions, $1,50; for
each subsequent insertion, Thi r
live Cents per Square. A liberal
discount made to yearly adver
' tisers.
LOCALS.—Business Locals Ten Cents per
line for the first insertion, Seven
Cents for subsea uent insertions
proftssional bards.
J. B..ANBERSON, M. D.,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
WAYNESBORO% PA.
Office at the Waynesboro' "Corner Drug
ore." [Rule 29—tf.
SD P., 12, A. INT 'l' ,
Has resumed the practice of Medicine.
OFFICE---an the Walker Building 7 -near
the Bowden House. Night calls should be
made •at his residence on Main Street, ad
joining the Western School House.
July 20-tf
f- SZTI77 - I.i'l r , 1/1" D.,
tiIYSICIAN AND .S.IIIIGFAN.
'WAYNESBORO ' PA,
Office at his residence, nearly opposite
lie Bowden House. Nov 2—tf.
WAN A. SIVSSONG,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
HAVING been admited to Practice Law
11. Lat the several Courts in Franklin Coun
ty, all business entrusted to his care will be
: roznptl attended to. Post Office addr• :
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
WAYN.ESBORO'; PA.
Practices in the several Courts of Franklin
•and adjacent Counties.
N. B.—heal Estate leased and sold, and
fire Insurance effected on reasonable terms.
December 10, 1871.
BR,. tk., 111., STRACKAERie
(FORMERLY OF MERCERSBURG, PA.,)
®citizens his Profeisional services to the
Itircitizens of Waynesboro' and vicinity.
Da. 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.
He has opened an Office in Waynesboro',
at the residence of George Besnre, Esq.,
Father-in-law, where he can be foam' at al
, times when not professionally engaged.
July 20, 1.871.-tf.
.DR. J. M. RIPPLE. AR. A. S. BOICEBRAKE.
.RID PLE.it BONBRATLE,
VIVA.YICESBORO', PA.
Having associated themselves in the prac
tice of Medicine and Surgery, offer their
,professional services to the public.
Office in the room on the . orth East
'Cm.. of the Diamond, formerly occupied by
'Dr. John J. Oeltig, dec'd.
July 18, 1872—1 y •
A. K. I3RANISHOLTS,
.RESIDENT DENTIST
-
e'4ila-7
WAYNESBORO', PA.,
VAN be found in his office at all times,
Kiwhere he is prepared to perform all
Dental operations in the best and most
skillful manlier. . .
We being acquainted with Dr. Branis
holtssocially and professionally recommend
him to all desiring the services of a Dentist.
Drs. E. A. HERING,
" J. M. RIPPLE,
" A. H. STRICKLER,
" J. B. AMBERSON,
" I. N SNIVELY,
" A. S. BONERAKE,
" T. D. FRENCH,
C. 23
PHOTOGRAPHER,
S. E. Corner of the Diamond,
WA YNESBORO% PA.,
MS at all times a fine assortment of Pic
-I.ll.tures Frames and Mouldings. Call and
eas specimen pictures. June tf.
8A..12,23 - EJ - R.,IN - C3-I
THE subscriber informs the public that he
continues the Barbering business in the
room next door to Mr. lleid's Grocery Store,
and is at all, times prepare to do hair cut
ting, shaving,s }lampooning etc. in the best
style. The patronage of the public is respect-
Tully solicited.
Aug 23 1871
Wan HOTEL
Cgrzter 9I fft Queen, Sts"
CHAMBERSBURG, Penn'a.
LA.NTZ & 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—I-y
L io] rcsi:
THE subscribers would inform the pub
lic that they have now for sale a good
article of brick and will continue to have
a supply on hand during the summer sea
son. 13. F. tic H. C. FUNK.
June 13—tf
NOTICE TO BUILDERS.
Afine lot Pine Building Lumber for sale
and will be furnished in rough, or hew
ed in proper sizes to suit purchasers of
Bills. Apply at Morrsavr 6/1113190.
April 4,1872--1 d
er Annum if
OP A YOUNG AMERICAN GIRL WHO COMMITTED
SUICIDE, BY DROWNING IN LONDON.
"I am far froni those who love me,
In a bleak and barren world ;
With a frowning sky above me,
And hopes in ruin hurl'd
I've not a friend to pity •
And none to sympathize,
Tho' in the teeming city
Where thOusands meet my eyes,
Fatherless and motherless, • '
Not a penny, nor a friend,
Death is my only fontre s ss,
Self-murder is-my end.
The—dark-and-rolling-ocean
Howls pitiless between
Each scene of love's devotion,
Aye! each familiar scene,
I scan the stranger faces
Which pdss me in the street,
nd seek in vain for traces •
For love I never meet.
I am treading, slowly treading,
With:low and bated breath
The path inviting, leading
Men to the bridge of death.
And now I stand upon it
And gaze into the water,
Wondering if my mother
Sees the ailguish of her daughter.
Death is my only portion;
Or lead a life of shame.
Some years since on the second day of
the Fair at Cleveland, when the bloods
were trying their blood in the shape of
fast horses, the fbllowing ludicrous inci
dent occurred : The horse ring, which
had been open during the afternoon for
the use of such gentlemen as might wish
to practice their horses, containing some
six or seven fine horses, splendidly capar
isoned, and attached to light sulkies, which
had grown so excited• by the sport that
the whole affair had become merged into
r. spirited race. The contest was strong,
and every horse was urged to his utmost
speed. A vast crowd had collected fbr the
purpose of enjoying the sport, and loud
shouts attested their approbation of the
favorite horses.
Just about the height of the race, the
rope that protected the entrance to the
ring was lowered, and one of the ugliest
looking specimens of the horse kind that
I had ever seen entered. His driver, an
old man with a short gray beard, was
clothed iu a rusty suit of gray, with seal
skin Cap, , and was seated in an old un
painted sulky, with a bundle of straw be
neath the seat, from which an old rusty
umbrella protruded.
At his very entrace he was greeted with
shouts from the crowd, of "take him out!"
"move him!" "wo-haw!" and other deris
ive shouts, that showed him as setting out
under the most unfavorable circumstances.
Almost at the start he had been over
taken by the finer horses, who had been
the popular favorites, and as they came
up to the old dun, the leaders of the race
called out to the driver to get out of the
way.
W. A. PRICE
After a few awkward efforts, he did
try to do so, but it was after a manner
little expected ; for the old horse shook
his ears and began to strike out at an aw
ful pace, and the blooded horses began to
feel the need of trying their bottom. A
way they went, and by the time they came
around to the starting place, the old dun
was considerably in advance. The fas
ter he went the uglier he looked, and his
gait was so awkward that the crowd roar
ed with laughter. Away he went, and a
way went the bloods in pursuit. The far
ther the old dun went the uglier he look
ed, and at every round he was greeted
with cries of "Go it, old Claybank l" Old
Claybank did go it, and the way he went
was a "sin to Crockett." By the fifth or
sixth round he had just gained the length
of the track on his competitors, and came
up in their rear like a canebrake on fire.
The excitement was now intense, and the
roaring and bellowing of the crowd almost
deafening.
The old dun never minded the crowd a
whit, but held himself down to his work,
and as he came around again, he had pass
ed two of "his rivals, and was abreast of
the third.
Setect Vettrg.
LIST WORDS.
Shall last for Mother's name?
• Cuge,-hear-m
Ere I make the fatal leap
Into the river, near me,
Into everlasting sleep ;
Forgive me, oh ! Forgive me,
My present and my past,
A deed that must outlive me
In the life, aside I cast ;
I have striven, vainly striven,
To circumvent my fate,
Yet none have power given
To shun a certain state.
Time taught me ever letter
In the alphabet of woe;
I feel it would be better,
No matter where I go.
My dizzy head is reeling
With plenitude of pain.
The stream behind me stealing
That I cannot cross." •
These were the words she uttered,
As she leaped into the s river ;
The waves a farwell muttered,
And closed on her forever.
,;ftlistellautous Pading.
Racing ExtraordLaary.
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER-DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, TA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 14,1872.
"Go it, old Claybank 1" shouted the
spectators, and withoitt whip or word from
his driVer, he came up to the scratch. By
the time this round was finished there re
mained but one horse ahead of him—a fine
blooded gray—considered by all the best
horse, in all points on the ground. As
they reached the entrance, the two horses
were abreast, and the gray, eyed his oppo
nent with a sidling glance as he shambled
along side ofhim. The old man now reach
ed down behind him, and drew the um
brella from the sheaf of straw beneatifthe
seat, and to which it was fastened, and
with a great flourish over his head brought
it down on the hip bones of the old dun.
It was hard to tell which rattled most,
the old umbrella or the bones of old Clay
bank ; but from that moment the race
was at an end. The gray was left far be
hind, and the old dun came up to the en
trance at one of the most awkward, sham
bling, and, yet swift paces I had ever seen,
beating his rival a considerable distance,
and presenting within himself the ugliest
piece of horseflesh that_has_ever been seen_
in this section of country. It is needless
to say that old Claybank was the favorite
the balance of the day.
Courtship is the last brilliant scene in
the maiden life of a woman. It is, to her,
a garden where no weeds mingle with the
flowers, but all is love and beautiful to
the senses. It is a dish of nightingales
served up by moonlight to the mingled
music of many tendernesses and gentle
whisperings—and eagerness- that does not
outstep th bounds of delicacy, and a se
ries of flutterings, throbbings, high pulses,
burning cheeks, and drooping lashes.—
But, however delightful itmay be, court
. .
shi • is, nevertheless
t e first turning pi
woman, crow
There is as much danger in the strength
of love as in its °weakness. The kindled
hOpe requires watching.
The rose tints of affection dazzle and
bewilder the imagination, and while al
ways bearing in mind that life without
love is a wilderness, it should not be over
looked that true affection requires a solid
support, discretion tempers passion, and it
is precisely that quality which, oftener
than'any other, is found absent in court
ship. Young ladies in love, therefore, re
quire wise counsellors. They should not
trust too much to the impulses of the heart,
nor be too easily captivated by a winning
exterior. In the seledion 'of a husband,
character should be considered more than
appearance. Young men inclined to in
temperate habits—even but slightly so—
rarely make goood husbands to the end ;
they have not sufficient moral stamina to
enable them to resist temptation even in
its incipient stages, and, being thus defi
dent in self-respect, they cannot posseess
that pure, uncontaminated feeling which
alone capacitates a man for rightly appre
ciating the tender and loving nature of a
rue woman. The irreligious man is like
a ship without a rudder, and he never can
.make a good husband, for a house dark
ened by cold skepticism or an indifference
to religion and its duties is never a home
—it is merely a shelter ; there is but lit
tle warmth in the atmosphere of the rooms,
and every object in them looks chill and
chilling. The indolent man likewise can
not be expected to make a good husband,
for he neglects his time and wastes his es
tate, allowing it to be overrun with this
tles and brambles, and subsists on the in
dustry of others. Every precaution, then,
is necessary for the selection of a husband.
"Died yesterday." Who died ? Per
baps it was a gentle babe—one whose
laugh was as the gush of summer rills loi
tering in the bower of roses—whose little
life was a perpetual litany, a May-time
crowned with the passion of flowers that
never fade. Or mayhap it was a youth,
hopeful and generous, whose path was
hemmed by flowers, with not a serpent
I lurking underneath ; one whose soul pant
ed for communion with the good and great,
and reached forth with earnest struggle
for the guerdon in the distance. But that
heart is still now; he "died yesterday."
"Died yesterday." A young girl, pure
as the orange•ffowers that clasped her
forehead, was stricken down as she stood
at the alter; and from the dim aisle of
the temple she was borne to the "garden
of the slumberers." A tall, crowned man,
girt with the halo of victory, and at the
day's close, under his own vine and fig
tree, fell to dust even as the anthem trem
bled upon his lips; and he, too, was laid
"where the rude forefathers of the hamlet
sleep." An ancient patriarch, bowed with
age and cares, even as he looked out up
on the distant hills for the coming of the
angel host, sank into a dreamless slum
ber, and on his door-post is written, "Died
yesterday.":
"Died yesterday." Daily men, women
and children are passing away, and hour
ly, in some grave-yard, the soil is flung
upon the dead. As often in the morn we
find some flower that blushed sweetly in
the sunset has withered up forever; so
daily, when we rise from the bivouac to
stand against our posts, we miss some
brother soldier, whose cheery cry in the
sieges and struggles of the post has been'as
fire from Heaven upon our hearts.
Each day some pearl drops from the
jewel thread of friendship—some lyre to
which we have been want to listen has
been husded. But wise, is he who mourns
not the pearl and music lost ; for life with
him shall pass away gently, as an eastern
shadow from the hills, and'death be a tri
umph and gain.
Laziness is a good deal like money—
the more a man has of it the more he
wants.
Courtship.
Died Yesterday.
"Rot= 4 n Jonathan "
The father of Return J. Meigs was born
at Middletown, Conn.• In his youth he
loved and addressed a fair Quakeress of
Middletown, whose home was very near
his own residence, but fbund much diffi
culty in obtaining her hand, her objection
resulting from secretarian bias. She re
peatedly answered his protestions of fidelity
and attachment with :
"Nay, Jonathan ; I respect thee much,
but cannot marry thee; for better dinner
of herbs and contentment than a stalled
ox and contention therewith."
Mr. Meigs finally wearied with his pro
fitless suit, and paid Ruth what he meant
should be his last visit as a .lover. He
held her hand and blessed her, and bay
irg told her that he hoped in time the
wound in his heart might be healed in
happy alliadce with some other family,
he spoke his "farewell." The kind and
yet sorrowful word spoken with tender
softnm, and with tearful eyes, fell upon
her heart, with awakening power, and as
-he wilted-to-his-saddle—to-ride-away,--the
fair Quakeress, full of love and relenting
beckoned to him with her hand, at the
same time calling out—
" Return, jonathan! Return, Jonathan!"
To him they were the sweetest words
that ever fell upon mortal ears. He re
turned, and the day was speedily fixed
for the celebration of their nuptials.—
The
first child born to them was a son,
and the happy father, in commemoration
of the blissful words which had bidden
him into his earthly heaven, had him
baptized and christened "Return Jona
than." And the child thus curiously
named grew up to an important manhood.
Amcng the officers of the American rev
olution he was one of the best and brave-
the British at Sag Harbor he received
the thanks of concirress and a sword. He
was a warm nen , an supporter of 'res
ident Jefferson, by whom he was appcint
ed-Indian-agent of the Cherokee, among
which people he passed the last of his
well spent and useful life.—New York
Ledger.
Life* Echoes.
"The Echoes of our lives are ever coming
back upon us."
"There's the echo rock," said Marsham;
and, as he spoke, he flung a merry laugh
across the meadows that lay between us
and the elevation.
"Not a tone lost," said we.
"Send over that laugh again, bfats'ham."
Again, at our word, went his wringing
voice, cleaving the air like the notes of a
bird.
"The imitation is almost perfect," said
we. "Let us try this echo with a differ
ent sound."
We sent a strong, cheery cry over the
dreamy meadows, which was echoed back
from afar, and re-echoed from the gray
rocks that lifted their heads above us.
Then the young man uttered a cry as
of one suffering, and the cry came Back,
only a little sadder in tone.
He then uttered some harsh words sharp
ly, and the harsh words were repeated in
fierce impulses of sound.
"Sing, IVlarsham," said one of the com-
pang.
"Marsham's clear voice sent forth tune
ful cadence, full of emphasis and expres
sion, and echo took up the strains, ming
ling them in such harmony that it seem
ed like one glad heart singing to another.
"What a singular phenomenon 1" re
marked one of the party.
"Let it be our instructor."
"Will you point the moral we ask
ed.
"Yes."
"First, as the echo speaks to us, so the
world will speak. If we speak to it cheer
fully, it will reply in as cheerful a tone;
if we address it angrily, it will reply in
anger; if there is hope, and confidence,
and good will in our voices, it, will reply
hopefully in good will and confidence.
"Second, "the echoes of our lives are ev
er coming back upon us." Is it not, then,
of vital moment in what voices our lives
speak ? The echoes that come to us from
the outside world are of small account to
those that come from our inner life, to
which we must listen when alone by our
sel yes;
These Voices do not die ; memory is
continually sending them forth, awak
ening echoes that fill our minds with glad
ness or regret. These echoes are not such
unsubstantial things as come back from
the hills yonder. No, no, my dear young
friends!
"Third, if we live in cheerful obedience
to the will of Providence, we shall speak
to the world cheerfully, and it will an
swer us back in a cheerful tone ; we shall
seek the good of our neighbor, and our
neighbor's voice will be pleasant to our
ears.
"And, lastly, let us so live that the ech
oes of our lives will be sweet."—Youth's
Companion.
THE IN Ea LIFE.—One fruitful source
of discontent, and one great bar of enjoy
ment in this world, is the practice of com
paring one's life with the life of others,
utterly ignoring the fact that every per
son has an inner as well as an outer life—
or, in the old-fashioned words of the Bible,
that "every heart knoweth its own .bitter
ness." How often is the remark made by
superficial observers, "Bow happy" such
and such persons "must be ?" "If I were
only they 1" 'When, ten to one, these very
persons, oblivious of their wealth and po
sition, are weary and heart-sore with the
din and battle of life. .
True courage is coot and calm. The
bravest of men have the least of brutal,
bullying insolence, and in the very time
of danger are found the most serene and
free.
BURT RE IN A FREE LAND.
The following beautiful and touching
lines were written by Steven, one of the
Harper's Ferry insurgents, a short time
before his death :
Make me a grave where you will,
ln a lonely plain or on a lofty hill,
Make it among earth's humblest graies,
But not in a land where men are slaves.
Leonid not rest, if around my grave,
I heard the steps of a trembling slave,
His shadow above my silent tomb,
Would make it a place of fearful gloom.
I could not sleep, if I heard the tread
Of a coffie gang to the shambles led,
And the mother's shriek of wild despair
Rise like a curse on the trembling air.
I eduld not rest, if I saw the lash,
Drinking her blood at each fearful gash;
If I saw her babes . torn from her breast
Like•trembling doves, from the parent nest
I'd shudder and start if I heard the ba
Of a blood-hound seizing his human prey ;
And 1 heard the captive plead in vain,
As they hound afresh the galling chain.
If I saw young girls, from the mother's arms,
Bartered and sold for their youthful charms,
My eyes Would flash with a mourful flame,
My death;paled cheek grow red with shame.
I'd sleep, dear friends, where blooded might
Can rob no man of his dearest right;
My rest shall be calm in any grave,
Where none can call his brothet a slave.
I ask no monument proud and high, •
To arrest the gaze of passers-by ;
All that my yearning spirit craves,
la--bury me not in a land of slaves. ••
HAELESTOWN AIL, A., March 15,1860.
Ramantie-Stor •
A. DRUG CLERK WEDS A WIDOW AND
FORTUN
Another of those interesting little ro
mances in real life has just come to light
in Washington. The bon-ton is in ecsta
cies over it. A dapper-looking apotheca
ry's clerk has succeeded in marrying a
fortune of $2,000,000, and now he has
gone West to spend it. The facts in the
ease, as related to me this morning, are as
follows :
Six months ago a charming young la
dy dressed elegantly and in the height of
fashion, and representing herself to be
the relict of a late prominent New York
oil speculator, appeared in Washington,
and took up her residence at the Arling
ton Hotel. While at the Arlington she
one day took occasion to procure an as
sortment of perfumery, and in quest of
that desirable acquisition of the toilet,
called'at a drug store situated opposite
the Treasury Department. Behind the
showy counter waited an attractive clerk,
a young gentleman of twenty-nine who
was no sooner seen than conquered. The
next day the relict of the late New York
oil speculator invited the elegant drug
clerk to a tete-a-tete at the Arlington.
Thereafter occurs a blank, until the
time of the Baltimore Convention, when
Mr. Drug Clerk received a mysterious
note from New York. He went to Bal
timore, there he met the lady, was marled,
remained throughout the Convention and
quietly returned to Washington, to resign
his clerkship and exist without visible
means of support. The lady soon follow.
ed him here, and again went to the Ar
lington, where she resided some time, oc
casionally receiving the fortunate h us
band and loading him with presents of
diamonds, rings, gold watches, &c., wind
ing up by transferring t o him a whole
business lot in San Francisco, with the
business thereon, a very valuable piece of
property, of which she herself holds a
companion in New York. Next they
started for Philadelphia, where the lady
took a sudden notion to go %Veit, the on
ly notification the ex-drug clerk's friends
receiving of his intention being a tele
gram couched in these words:
"Shan't return. Can't avoid it. Am
going to San Francisco."
Yesterday a letter was received from
the Pacific Slope, containing the infor
mation that the young man had started
a magnificent drug store at Golden Gate.
The immense wealth which has fallen to
his lot, together with the extraordinary
manner of the match-making, and the
beauty and high standing of the wife are
the nine days' wonder. Our late drug 1 ,
clerk is of course a very stylish young
man, and a very lucky young man. He
was formerly a Captain in the army,
Where it is reported he served with dis
tinction, is well connected here, and has a
good reputation in society.—Boston Trav
eler.
There was a man in the town where I
was born who used to steal his firewood.
He would get up on cold nights and go
and take it from his neighbor's wood-pile.
A. computation was made, and it was as
certained that he spent more time and
worked harder to get his. fuel than he
would have had to if he had earned it in
an honest way, and at ordinary - sages.—
And this thief is a type of thousands of
men who work a great deal harder to
please the devil than they would have to
to please God.—Er.
Let us take care how we speak of those
who have fallen on life's field. Help them
up—not heap scorn upon them. We did
not see the conflict. We do not know the
SCATS.
To understand the world is wiser than
to condemn it, to study the world is bet.
ter than to shun it; to use the world is
nobler than to abuse it; to make the world
better, levier and happier is the highest
work of rum •
An Old Story Retold.
If any one believe that all the stories
of the glorious old times of Jackson and
Clay compaigne have been used up, he
will find how easy it is to be mistaken.—
Witness the following, which comes to us
from Old Kentucky, by the way. of Lou
isiana. Our entertaining friend begins:
"You must know" (but we did not
know) "that around and about the beau
tiful city of Lexington, in the State of
Kentucky, for a distance of twelve or fif
teen miles, there lives—or did live, twen
ty years ago—a great number or small
farmers, who find in that city a ready
market for the surplus produce of their
farms, and there they carry it to sell, and
buy nery and nick-nacks for their fami
lies. One of these farmers, api or but in
dustrious and fearless man, had a porker,
a few bushels of meal, potatoes, beans, etc.,
which he wished to dispose of; and, bor
rowing a horse and wagon, be packed up
his things, and just at dusk set off for town.
Arrived at one or two o'clock in the morn
ing,-he-entered-the-market-house,—and-se--
lecting a stall, he split the dressed pig in
to halves, and hung them on the stout
hooks, , - and - with - a bag of meal for a pil
low lay down to sleep till morning. He
slept soundly and late, and when he awoke
the market people were crowding in ; and
lo ! one half of his pig had been unhooked
and hooked, It was clean gone ! He made
known his loss, and raving and swearing,
he drew the whole crowd around him, As
he grew warm with his wrath, he said :
"I know the sort of man that stole that
pork—l do!'
"'Well, why not let it out, if you know,
and we'll help to find him for you!' they
cried out, in reply. •
If
• ; " W 11 : 1 1 •
was ; he was a Clay man
"As old Harry Clay livtd within a
le-of—the market; and everyman
was ready to go to the death for him, this
sp_eeeLto_accuse_a_Clay_man-
of stealing half a pig in Lexington, and
they closed on him to give him a sound
thrashing ; when one demanded of him
what' made him think so.
"`Why, no body but a Clay man would
have done it; of he had been a Jackson
man he would have gone the whole hog.'
"This turned the tables. The humor of
the robbed farmer was irresistable. The
Lexingtonians carried him off to a coffee
house to a hot breakfast and a morning
spree; and after drinking to the health of
Henry Clay, they made up his loss, and
sent him home rejoicing."
A Ventriloquist's/Joke.
We recently took a walk on to the
whai f with a friend who is a good ventril
oquist.
The hands on one of our steamers were
engaged in rolling off a cask, when to the
consternation and surprise of the persons
engaged in performing that operation, a
voice was heard within the cask.
"Roll it - easy ; these plaguey nails hurt.
I'd rather pay my passage than stand all
this."
, Holding up their heads, their visuals
expanding to the size of two saucers, the
two laborers exclaimed.
"That beats the dickens !"
The mate coining up at this moment
and unaware of the cause of delay, com
menced cursing them for their dilatori
_ness, when from within the cask the voice
came forth :
"You're nobody; let me out of this
cask.'
"What's that?" said the mate.
"Why, it's me,' said the voice; I want
to get out; I won't stand this any longer."
"Up end the cask,' said the mate.
"Oh, don't ! You'll kill me," said the
voice. "Oh how these nails prick Look
out, don't! again said_ the cased-up indi
vidual, as the men were turning it over.
"Cooper," said the mate, "head that
cask and take out that man."
As the adz sundered the hoops, and the
head was coming out, the voice again
broke forth:
"Be easy now ; is there any one about?
I 'don't want to be caught."
Quite a crowd had now gathered around
the scene of action, when a loud gutteral
laugh broke forth, which made our hair
stand on end, and the cask was filled with
bacon.
"What does it mean," says one.
"It beats my time," said the mate.
We enjoyed the joke too well to 'blow'
as we walked off arm in arm with the
ventriloquist an magician.
The Flea.
When a flea, under a microscope, is
made to appear as large as an elephant,
we can see all the wondertbl parts of its
formation, and are astonished t o fin d
that it has a coat of armor much more
complete than ever warrior wore, and com
posed of strong, polished plates, fitted o
ver each other, each plate covered like a
tortoise-shell, and where they meet hun
dreds of small quills project like those on
the back of a porcupine or hedgehog.—
There are the arched neck, the bright
eyes, the transparent cases, pierces t o
puncturelthe skin, a sucker to draw away
the blood, six long-jointed legs, four of
which are folded on the breast, all ready,
at any moment, to be thrown out with
tremendous force for that jump whic'a
bothers one when they want to catch him,
and at the end of each leg booked claws
to enable him to cling on whatever he
lights upon- A flea can jump a hundred
times its own length, which is the same as
if a man jumped five hundred feet: and
he can draw a load two hundred times
his own weight.
They are saying all sorts of cruel things
about the intelligent mosquito, but no
one has as yet accused him of being fool
enough ta fill a kerosene lamp while it is
lighted.
82,00 PER YEAR
Wit autt 4111111er.
The married ladies of Hannibal have
organized a "Come Home Husband Club.'
Broomsticks figure among the induce
ments to come.
."--", 4.
Aeorrespondent of a Maine paper wants
to know some remedy for striped hugs.--
We should suppose the remedy depended
jer , much on what ails the bugs.
rit is an actual fat that a man who at
tempted to hug a beautiful young woman
named Miss Lemon, has sued her fo r
striking him in the eye. He is altogeth
er unreasonable. Why should he squeeze
a on unless he wants a punch ?
A wag upon visiting a medical muse
um was shown some dwarfs and other
specimens of mortality, all preserved in
alcohol.
"Well," said he, "I never thought the
dead could be in such spirits."
A Breton peasant, on his way to Paris,
stoped at a barber shop_in Rambouillet.—
While the barber was strapping his ra
zor,•the peasant . noticed a dog sitting near
his chair staring at him fiercely - "What
is the matter with the. dog ?" The barber
answered with an unconcerned air, "That
dog is always there. You see when I cut
eau ear—" "Well he eats it."
"I say Jim, what is the difference be
tween the commencement and the begin
ning of anything?"
"I don't know," said Jim, `•what is it ?"
"There ain't any," was the reply.
see," replied Jim. "Now you tell
• r -nule was A"
_as : A mule was on one side of a riv
er and some bay on the other, and the
mule wanted to"get the hay without wet-
mg is ee . 'ow 'II e oit
"I don't know," said Jones; "I give it
"So did the other mule," said Jim.
MAY BE WORTH PrEstuvrna.—The
Medical Home has the following receipts,
which may be of value:
A tea made of chestnut leaves, and
drank in the place of water, will "cure the
most obstinate case of dropsy in a few
days.
A tea made of ripe or dried whortle
berries, and drank in the place of water,
is a sure and speedy cure for a scrofulous
difficulty, however bad.
A tea made of peach leaves is a sure curd
fbr a kidney difficulty.
A plaster made of fresh slacked lime
and fresh tar is a cure for a cancer, which
with its roots, will soon'come out.
Patrick, the Widow Maloney tells me
that you have stolen one of the finest of
her pigs. Is that correct or not?"
your honor."
"What have you done with it ? "
"Killed it and ate it, yer honor."
"Well, Patrick, Patrick when you are
brought face to face with the widow and
her pig on the judgment day, what ac
count will you be able to give of yourself
when the widow accuses you of stealing?"
"Did you say the pig would be there,
yer riverince ?"
"To be sure I did."
"Well, then, yer riverince, I'll say Mrs.
Maloney, there's your pig." ,
Mark Twain has been troubled with a
lightning-rod man, and to get rid of him
addressed him as follows,: "Let us have
peace ! Put up a hundred and fifty ! Put
some on the kitchen I Put a dozen on the
barn ! Put a couple on the cow ! Scatter
them all over the persecuted place till it
looks like a zinc-plated, spiral-twisted, sil
ver-mounted cane-brake. Move! Use up
all the material you can get your hands
on, and when you run out of lightning
rods put up ram rods, cam rods, stair rods,
piston rods—anything that will pander to
your dismal appearance for artificial scen
ery', and bring respite to my raging brain
and healing td my lacerated heart!"
Teacher, in loud tones, "What is your
name ?"
Boy, in weak voice, "Johny Wells,
sir."
"How old are you, Johny Wells?"
"Twelve years old, sir."
"Now, John tell me who made this
grand and glorious universe?"
"Don't know, sir." •
"What! twelve years old and don't
know who made this noble sphert, I James
Smith, go and cut me a whip."
The birch is brought, and held over the
trembling boy.
"Now, tell me who made this great
world •we live in?"
In a tearful voice Johny answered: "I
did, sir, but I won't do it again."
There was a miser who was considered
impregnable to charitable associations un
til a Hibernian genius "came Paddy over
him." Teddy went to his office one morn
ing, and told a piteous story about losing -
his pig, the only one he had.
"Sure," says Teddy, "Mistbress
(naming a very excellent lady, whose good
opinion old Hard Fist was anxious to re
tain,) "towld me to come to ye, for ye wor
very rich, and gev a power of money to
the poor, God bless you! I only want to
raise enough to buy me another little slip
of a pig.
The miser couldn't resist the infulnce
of Mrs. —, so lie gave Teddy a crown.
A few days after he met him.
"Well, Teddy," said he, "did you buy
another pig?"
"Troth, I did; and a fine one it is."
"Then take better care of it than 'you
did the other. What did the pig you lost
die of?"
"Die of!" said Teddy, raising his brows;
"sure he didn't die—he was fit enough and
I killed him"