MY W., JUAALIR VOLUM .52. you drii;e to town; My hairs are gray, I shall boon be at rest within the grave ; .sot long will mother pilot you o'er life's tempeBtuons wave. I've watched o'er you from infancy till now you :Ire :t tn.tn, htt‘t. , tt!w:t. Ittved you :is n. mother •%111; .:mate the Ciud of love To Weirs and guide my darling boy,to•tbe bright home above. A mother's eye is searching,,Johnold age can't dim its sight, When watching o'er an onlyychild to see if he does right ; And very jately I have seen what has a roused,,my fears, And made gay pillow hard at night, *and moisten*, with tears. I've seen a light within your eye, upon your cheeks.a flow 'That. told me yon were on the road that leads to shakneand woe ; .0h !,John, don't turn away your head, and on my counsel frown, , Stay more upon the, dear old farm ; there's danger in the tewn. Remember what the poet Says—tong years have roved ittLk• Is:— That `•Satan finds some mischief still for i dle hands to do ;" If you live on in idleness, with those rwho love the bowl, you'll dig yourself a drunkard's grave` and • wreck your deathless soul. ',Yop ifikther, John, is growing old ; his days are nearly through ; ,0! he has labored very .hard to save the farm for you ; • But it will go to ruin soon, and poverty will frown, If you keep hitching Dobkin up to drise in to the town. Your prospects for the future are very bright, my son— Not many have your start in life when they are twenty-one; Your star, that shines so brightly now, in darkness will decline, If you forget your mother's word, and tar ry at the wine. Turn back, my boy, in your youth; stay by the dear old firm ; The Lord of Hosts will save you, with His powerful right arm. Not long kill mother pilot you o'er life's tempestotts wave— Then light ,her pathway with your love down to the silent grave. NANNLE'S INHERITANCE. EY MATTIE WINFIELD TORREY It certainly was very unfortunate that .school was dismissed just at that moment. I am sure, if kind-hearted Miss Johnston lad known who was-passing at precisely that instant, she mould have df„ttaincd the childron, on•some pretest or other, until there was no longer any danger of their coming into collision with Granny Small. As it was they run plump against her, and there was a perfect chorus of shouts and derisive sentences thrown after her. "Hallo, here's the old witch ! Where's your hromnstiek, ufanny I?" "LOok out, Jim; don't get too close, or she'll 1K• itch you. 11 r ouldn't ynu like to Nye 'Tor flying through the 'air tome of these tioe•nightc?" "flo‘%'s the price of peppermint, now ?" "[lcy ! granny's getting mad !," as du . oil woman, thus beset, turned upOu her persecutors and flourished her stout cane. "Oh, boys ! How can you be so wic*- ed ?" (lied Nannie Price, running out of the schoolroom, where she had stopped to pile up the books and set the chairs straight. Nannie's mother was a poor widow, and Miss Johnston allowed her to pa:) for her tuition by keeping the schoolroom neat and tidy. "I wonder you .are not ashamed. f your selves, to treat sal old woman so meanly. How would you like it, I wonder, if your grandmothers were hooted at in the streets in this way ?" "Oh, ho . ! Here's the old witch's grand daughter. I say, boys, don't, they look alike?" • But• Nannie was not a particle related to Granny Small. She had a sympathiz ing, tender heart, and could not stand qui ei ly I) , y and see so old a person subjected to ridicule and "Don't mind them, grannie;" said she; "don't mind a word they say, for they are naughty, wicked boys, and lam sure if Miss Johnston knew how they treated you, she would punish them siwerely.— Come, I will walk with you till you reach :the lane." Ay, they're a bad set, a forward gen eration," said granny, eyeing theni:seveu jy. "Their hearts are set to do evil, and *hut continually. But you're a rood - odd-picture-these-two-made,- going slowly along the quiet country road —the blue-eyed, innocent child and the weak, trembling, wrinkled old woman. Nannie in her cheap print frock and ging ham sun : hointet, looking, as indeed she was, the child of honest poverty—too poor to be clothed in purple and line linen, too proud to bi aught but.cleanly. Granny's garments were. patched atm much worn, and oi.a eishiou which pertained to a ve ry remote period. Her steps were shAv and uncertain, her speech often unbroken and indistinct. g I have played "Minnie, dearie," she asked suddenly, "Should,you like to be rich, like the peo ple I sair in town to-day ? There were the prancing horses, the gilded coaches, and the fine ladies, all rigged out in their ; brave attire, sitting at ease and making,a, grand slaw. Should you like to be rich. and have,plenty of money—money ?" Nannie ,laughed—such a Clear, ringing laugh. "I should like the money well enough, granny, because of the good I should do with it, but i l never could get used to be ing dressed .1g) every day, and to have nothing to do.but ride about and exhibit , .one s new fineries must be tiresome busi-d tote "Bless the child !" cried granny ; "how wise she is. Suppose you had money, dearie, what would you do with 't ?" "I'd give you : some, granny-0, ever so much—enough to make you comforta ble all your life„and the rest I'd get my calier - twerything I Lould - think-of-that-' would ,make her happy, so that she would, never shave to' do any thing unless she chose,. and never need worry about a sin gle thing." "Hat ha!" chuckled granny ; "hear the chid - talk. So she would give me a. share, and make my lust days aamforta hie. H0,,h0 ! she has a generous heart, and she shall have money—money. Ha, ha!" ,An she repeated "money, money" so often that Natalie was rather glad when they reached the fbot of the lane, where she was to part with her•strange compan ion. -"Good-night, dearie, good-night. So you'd like to be rich? Ho, ho!" And she turned up the lane and disappeared from view, crooning the one word, "mon ey," over and over again, while Nannie rauhome as fast as ever she could; and over the nice supper which Mrs. Price had prepared for her little girl, s le told of her meeting with Granny Small. "She has seen a world of trouble," said Nannie's mother, "and I rejoice to learn that you were.,kind to her. She once had a happy home and a numerous family, but husband, children, friends, all have been taken away by death, and she has lived for many . years in her lonely cabin on the mountain side, shunned by the neighbors, and known far and near as Granny Small. She has the reputation of being both a witch and a miser,the latter charge is probably as untrue as the first. If you like, you may run up to-morrow and see her on your way to school, and carry her a few fresh eggs and a nice loaf' of bread." "So, on the morrow, Fannie set. forth with a basket, bearing her mother's gift to ' the old woman, hanging on her arm. Her heart was full of joy and gladness, and as she tripped along she sang with the birds, chased the butterflies, exhibit ing in every &ace and motion her over flowing happiness. The; dew still sparkled on the grass, and the little wild flowers peered out bright and shining, having had their faces wash ed over night. There was a great saucy bobolink who perched himself on the topmost bougn of an elm tree, and threw lidr down a per fect shower of melody. There was a wren who was very busy around a hole in an old tree-u unk, and a pair of nimble rob ins, who cried "Thief, thief!" with all their might and main, the moment they espied her approaching, ras it they sus pected her of burgiarious intentions, and sought by their clamor to drive her off the premises. But Nannie 'Walked straight past them all, along the lonely lane leading through the fields, and a abort distance up the mountain side. How quiet the little, bre ken-down cabin looked I Not a breeze seemed to stir among the leaves, not a liv ing object was visible; not ...yen a slender thread of smoke arose from the mud chim ney to tell that granny had kindled a fire. The summer sunshine and the unbro ken stillness seemed to have complete possession of the, place. Nannie approached the door and gave a loud rap, which, being unheeded, she followed it up , by a louder blow. This producing no effect, she pushed open the door and stepped within -the room. It was neat and orderly, though poorly fur nished, and upon the bed in one corner lay granny, apparently asleep. She was probably resting After her long walk of the day before, so Nannie con cluded to sit down awhile, and wait for her awake. Noiselessly she.deposited her basket on the table, and seated herself to wait. How still the place. seemed! It was more like death than life, Naunie thought, and, looking at granny, a horrible suspi cion took pmession of her ftney. What A .VANIMr NEWSPAPER--•DEVOTED TO LITERATURZ, - LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC. ;e up Tor a poor old woman orae.on, then, dearie, I ;must My old limbs h've borne me Ind I would faln sit down;and poor cabiu." 'e teen far, then, have you, Ls the .town, denrie. I must )s, for •the old woman must :up of.tea and a crust, even, —money—Oh, how much !" She fell to muttering softly, words Nannie could catch ,ey, money," several times re- WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PL, THURSDAY, JANUARY 23,1878 . if the old woman was really 4lead? •The face was colorless, there was no .sign of breathing, no signef life or motion. The child eat as if fascumted,staring with wide open eyes at the recumbent figure, power. less to move, seeingnothing but that pale face, and possessed for the moment with but the one thought. She was aroused by a low "mew„" .and a gentle touch of old Tabby's silken fur, as be rubbed against her band. <Gran- ny's old pet had awakened from his nap, and claimed recognition from the only person he saw about ,the premises.. The touch and the.sudden start it caus ed_her,_brought her mind back to consci ousness that something must he done, and that instantly ; so, breaking away from the apathy caused by fright, she darted out at the door and down the lane, and never stopped until she reached her moth er's presence, and had told her story in as few words as possible. Mrs. Price immediately accompanied the child back, finding, indeed, that her suspicions were too true. - Granny Small had passed away as quietly as one would lie down to sleep. On the stand, by her bedside, lay her Bible, and on this a fold ed paper, which to her astonishment, Mrs. Price found directed to herself, and which, upon examination, she discovered to be the last will 'and testament of Granny Small, bequeathing--could she believe her eyes ?—several thousand dollars to her little girl—to Nannie Price.! Was it not .all a dream ? It seemed like one, indeed. The news of granny,s death quickly spread, and a large concourse of people gathered at her funeral, attracted more by curiosity than by respect for the dead, but more than all, drawn thither by a strange rumor that bad gone abroad, that gran ny had not, after all, been the poor, desti •=rcreature-they-had-supposed-herto-be, The lawyer who had drawn up the will came forward, and soon proved beyond a doull The genuineness of the docament, and was able to tell them where the mon ey was deposited. So Fannie came into her inheritance, not without a regret that granny had no longer-any-need-of-the-co m Aortal erloard, ed wealth might have procured for her.— The old woman had probably taken a sudden fancy to Naunie, and, having no kin 9f her own, she bad decided to enrich the little friend who had so courageously shielded her from insult on more than one occasion. Of the neat home to which Nannie and her mother soon removed, arid of the ma ny. bright and happy days they spent to gether, as well as all the good they ac complished:by dispensing in charity a cer tain sum each year—all this I have not time to tell you. The Wealth of . Our Presidents. Washington left all estate valued at at $300,000. Jefferson died poor, and had not Con gress purchased his library his estate would have been unable to pay his debts. Madison saved his money and was com paratively rich. The fortune of his wid ow was increased by the purchase of his manuscript papers by Congress for $30,- 000. James Moore, the sixth President, died so poor that he was buried at the expense of his relatives, in a cemetery between Second and Third streets, near the Bow ery, in New York city. John Quincy Adams left about $50,- 000,.the result of industry, prudence, and a small inheritance. He was methodical and economical. 0 Andrew .Jackson left a valuable estate known as Thy Hermitage, about twelve miles from Nashville, Tenn. Martin Van Buren died rich. His es tate was estimated at nearly $300,000.. James K, Polk left about $120,000. John Tyler was a bankrupt when he became President. He husbanded his means while in office, and married a rich wife, and died wealthy in worldly for tune. Zachary Taylor left about $150,000 Iliillari Fillmore is a wealthy man. Franklin Pierce saved $50,060, during his term of service as President. James Buchanan died a bachelor, and left an estate valued at $200,000 at least. Abraham Lincoln left about $75,000. Johnson is said to be worth about $50,- 000. President Grant• was poor before the war. By a careful husbandry of his sal ary and through the generous gifts of friends before he became Presidents, his fortune is a handsome competence.—From the American. Historical Record. Beecher said in a sermon the other day: Half a dozen young fellows got together in a back room of a sample store, it was charmjng. They had choice liquors and good fellowship. Bad liquor killed of course; they knew that. But. this was good, and they . pitied the poor vulgar drunkards. To-morrow they would visit there again. It was the most blissful hour of the day. So weeks, months, would fly away. and by a taint in the blood was developed in one ; a spark touched the• brain of, another ; another grew careless ; another became lazy. In twenty years whore was No 1? He went to sea and died. 'No 2? He didn't dO well in busi ness,.and went to the plains and /was last heard of in the mining mountains, No 3? He was alive, but eve ybody who knows him Wishes he was dead. No 4? He is the only one that escaped. He broke a way, got religion, and became a Methodist minister. [Laughter.] No 5? In green wocd. In twenty years the preacher had known hundreds of young men, educated, with fair prospects, and eve, y rational hope of doing well, who had gone the ways of death, because they thought it safe at the outset to indulge in intoxicating liq uors. ME 11101• Y. Just twenty•times the smiles of•sping, Have gladdened.allthe meadows, When my wee angel•plumed its wings, And left me in the shadows. • Oh, summer skies have burned with light, And summer birds have spoken, But life and •hope were wrapt in night, A sorrow-dream unbroken. Just twenty years! Oh, weary space, To one who waits in sorrow, ' • And vainly watches for a face, To-morrow and to-morrow. Ala! only God and angels know, The dreams I dreamed about her, And how, though lonely here below, I try to do without,her. I know she rests secure from blight, And all eartles_sickening shadows, Where white'fee.t patter in delight, O'er God's undfading meadows. I knoti she rests in sweet content, - By streams all pure and pearly, My little fair-haired babe, who went, To play with angels early. I ne'er complain—l only wait The dusk of holy even, When little hands shad ope the gate, And welcome me to heaven. I'll know her among the little ones, Who long since crossedlhe river, My wee, wee babe who early sought, The peace of God forever. I'll know her 'mong the shining ones. s y- ye-ga e-s e passee v The little form we laid to rest Beneath the tangled•grasses. My baby then, my bitiv still, With brow so pure and pearly, Who wandered up the shining hill, To play with angels early. A Singular Case. SUPPOSED MURDERED 31AM RE-APPEARS. Never has anything occurred in Onan dago Co., N. Y., to attract such general attention in the vicinity as the return to his home in the town of De Witt, near the village of Collamer, of an old fitrmer named Blodgett., who, it was supposed on strong circumstantial evidence, had been brutally murdered by unknown assassins _one night five years ago.. The circumstances attending this case are extraordinary, 'and seem mom like a a fictitious tale than ungarnished truth. ' • Blodgett, whahas suddenly appeared among his old neighbors, for many years owned and lived on a fine farm of about one lnindred and fifty acres a mile or so from Collamer. He was generally con sidered wealthy, and had the entire con fidence of the whole community, having held offices of tinst in the town, being Assessor at the time of his disappearance. Five years ago'he left home one Fri day evening to go to Collamer, where he was to get a considerable sum of money to pay a number of workmen the next night who were constructing a building for him. He did not return that night nor the next day, and his family became alarmed ; a messenger was sent to Colla mer to ascertain if possible his wherea bouts. The messenger went to the place. where Mr. Blodgett was to get his money and was informed he had drawn the money and departed, apparently fir home. This news was carried to the family of the missing man, and it was at once suspect ed that he had been murdered. The sup position that he was murdered became almost a certainty by the story .of Mrs: Joseph Breed, living near the village of Collamer, on the road to Blodgett's, and at a lonely point. Mrs. Breed, when she heard a day or so afterwards of the disap pearance of Mr. Blodgett, stated to the family that somewhere about ten or elev en o'clock on Friday night, about the time the old man would naturally be pass ing her house on his way home, he having left Collamer at a late hour. she was a wakened by a noise in the road directly in front of her house. Listening, she be came convinced that it was caused by a party of men struggling in the read. She heard a voice which said, Knock him in the head ; quick !" • She then heard a shrill, loud cry of "Murder!" ending in a sort of gurgle, as if some one was being strangled. Shortly afterwards the foot steps of two or three men as if running in the direction of Collamer, were heard and then all was silent. Mrs. Breed was too, much frightened to make any attempt to see what was being done in the road, but after the men had gone she looked out of the window, but it was too dark for her too see anything. She was afraid to go out to the scene of the struggle at the time, but went out in the morning End discovered. evidence of a severe con test. There was no blood on the ground nor anything to lead to a knowledge of who the contestants were. She was con fident, however, that a murder bad been committed, and when she heard of the sudden disappearance of Mr. Blodgett, there was no doubt in. her mind that he was the victim. Diligent search was made for the body of the murdered man, and traces of the murderers were sought on every hand, but all to no purpose. One of the men who was suspected as being a leader in the supposed murder of Mr. Blodgett was a bad character named Carey. Sate time after the disappearance of Mr. Blodgett, Carey was' arrested on suspicion of being the murderer of one Johnson, in Collamer. He was convicted of the crime, and sentenced to be hanged, which sentence sras commuted to tinprisoc- went for life in the Penitentiary at Au burn. This strengthened the belief that he was the miaderer of the old farmer. A year or two after the supposed mur der the skull and other, parts of a human skeleton were found on the shore of Onei da Lake, on the upper boundary of the county. This was believed to be a part of the remaina.of Mr. Blodgett, it being thought that behad.been thrown into that body of water, or a stream emptying into it, in order that his murders might baffle detection. If there remained the shadow of a doubt tlift Blodgett . was dead this dispelled it, and the heirs.of the old far mer petitioned ths courts far the appoint ment.of administrators of his estate. They were appointed, and the property remain ing after the settlement of the old man's .affairs was divided among the children. .. The astonishment of the Blodgett family may be imagined when they received a letter some . two weeks ago fram a man in the_ oil regions purporting to be the sup. posed murdered man, detailing the cir cumstances of his disappearance, and re questing a sum of money to be sent him in order that he might return home, as he was penniless and did not wish to die away from home. One of the sons was sent to Pennsylvania to make a personal investi gation, and after considerablesearch found the writer, and he turned out to be Mr. Blodgett he was greatly chan ged the son found no difficulty in recogniz ing him, and he last week returned with the old man to the farm. Blodgett says that no attempt was ever made on his life, but gives no reasons for his unceremoni ous going away, or no amount of his life during the five years he was absent. The affairs of the family are somewhat mixed up by the appearance of the old farmer.— His property 'has been divided among the hr -od they-were-in ieirsi and they-were-in -possession ortreff respective shares. An amicable adjust ment will probably be made, as the Blod getts are all warmly attached to each oth er-and overjoyed at the return of their father. Saturday Night. Thank God for Saturday night. It falls like a benediction upon the dusty work shops, the busy counting-rooms, the vari ous departments of toiling life, and re-as serts its original claim to that sweetest word of the Hebrew tongue, "Sabbath." It comes like the soft rain on the parched earth, the wandering sea-weed to the hea vy shore. It is the poor man's friend, be neath its awakening spell his heart goes back to the Saturday nights of long ago, ere Vie silver chord which bound him to the house of his childhood was loosened, or even the golden bowl of a spotless faith was broken. It is the poetry of the week, the silver lining to a six days' rdund of vexation, disappointment and regret.— Men of toil, whether of . brain of muscle, go home to your wives and little ones, re solved to live better lives. The Saturday night will cone, and soon, when you can go home to then , no more. Suppress ev ery impatient word, every hasty reproof It is well that Saturday night comes in this busy life to give us pause and time for thought. But a little while, and death or distance will break up and scatter the little household. When the wee toddling fee are cold beneath the violets, you would give the world to have them back. You would not become impatient at their noise—if only you could but hear their echo once more. The time of separation comes, sooner or later, and never very late. It is estimated that not one house- hold in twenty retains its little circle un broken longer than seven years. Oh, we could love our brother,our sister, so much better if they were only with us once more. No harsh word should grieve the heart of father or mother—if they could only come back ! Alas,•this is the language of the world —the air is filled with the farewells to the dead ; and yet we should never pause to reflect but for Saturday night. A Bear Story. The San Francisco Bulletin relates the following adventure which befell an In dian herdsman in the lower part of that State. The man had been sent to a dis tant ranch •to look after a herd of sheep, and at nightfall got under a shed with a roof of branches, but open on .all sides, and lay" down on' his blankets. After .a few hours be was awakened by feeling the hot breath of some animal• on his face.— He mrxve& his arms, and at once under stood his situation—a huge bear was snuf fling him. The man with great presence of mind, determined to keep perfectly still, for he knew if.he moved or cried out one blow of those huge paws would. break his skull like a walnut Brain scratched off the blankets and seized the Indian by the leg. Though suffer:ng terribly, the brave fellow did not allow a gro an or cry to escape him. The bear drag ed him from the hut for some distance and then com menced to dig a hole to lay the Indian in and cover him up from the coyotes: Af ter the grave had been dug deep enough (the bear contenting himself with about a pound of flesh from the victim's thigh) moved the body to the hole and covered it up. The Indian managed to keep the earth over his face lease enough to allow him to breathe, and when the bear retire ed, he crawled out towards the mustang, which was picketed some yards outside the hut. With great difficulty he imitat ed, and then rode towards the ranch house. A doctor was sent for, and ptonouced the wound though severe and painful, not likely to prove fatal. The next day a hunt was organized, and the grizzly was , killed in the neighborhood of the spot wheie he had stowed away his intended meal. Straining honey is what they call it in New Jersey when R fellow hugs his sweet heart. The honey likes it, to-.). , SOME OF THE "HEAVI" ONES.--The New York Argus says, "Here are some of the 'rich' of our city!'" 'Alexander T. Stewert, over $80,000,- 000. George Law is worth, $6,000,000. Abel A. Low, is worth 4000,000, Peter Cooper is worth $4.000,000. Cornelius Vanderbilt. No body knows how rich. Daniel Drew can draw his check for $40,000,000. Good humor pays. Nasby, the funny man, is worth $250,000. The Brown brothers are worth from $12,000,000 to $15,000,000 each. Horace Claflin, of the firm of H. B. Claflin & Co., is worth $12,000,000, prob ably $50,000,000. William B. Astor beats Stewart: He owns upwards of three thousand houses in 'New York city. Henry N. Smith, has. cleared in the last twelve months u i ards of $5 000 000 and Jay Gould is on the books for a7halidi6 en or more millions. August Belmont makes $2,000,000, a year. He is a German, connected with Itothchilds, and speculates knowingly in American securities. To him Mr. Gree ley owes 'his nomination, and indirectly his death. • E. S. Jaffrey, the Broadway importer. Ve keeps his affairs to himself like a true Seotchman, but the Yankee guess is that he is able to handle any day that he likes a bag that would contain about $5,000- 000. RENr..3IIIEIt THE POOll. - -It is charity to give to the poor and suffering. Re member the . old and infirm, who are untt ble to keep themselves. You who have plenty and to spare, have a responsibility reatingLon-vou.----When- you are blessed, with this world's treasure mid goods, it becomes your duty to appropriate from your bounty, relief from the suffering poor. The snow covers the earth ; -work is scarce for the out door laborers ; .perhaps many have not stored up sufficient to keep them comfortable through this cold, inclement weather. It may be some near, by you who will 'suffer—want, hunger, cold, sickness, may visit them. They may be friendless, and forsaken because of some weakness in man nature, tluit has brought them to this condition. Don't be selfish, and cast them off because they are weak. It is the weak that ,need friends and in utter extremity must be supported. Charity endureth, and is lougsuffering. It bears much and forgives. Now is the season for our good Christian people to care for the poor. Remember we have not had so severe a winter for years. The snow is deep and the thermometer ranges frequently below zero. This snow is a, covering and a bles sing to the crops. The ways of Provi dence are mysterious, and 'always work for the best. It remains for us to do our duty. To remember and care for our poor is a sacred duty, especially when suf. tering and -want presses them. SOUND IDEAS ON FARMING.—The fol lowing views on farming were thrown out by Mr. Greeley in his speech at Baleni ore, and they so entirely cover_ the ground of successful culture that we give them a place for the benefit of our readers: 1. That the area under cultivation should be within the limits of the capital and labor employed; or; in 'other words, that on impoverished soils no one should cultivate more laud than be can enrich with manure and fertilizers, be it one acre or twenty. 2. That there should be a law compel ling every man to prevent his stock from depredating on his neighbor's fields. 3. That green soil is more economical than loose pasturage, 4. That deep tillage is essential to good farming. 5. That the muck heap is the farmer's bank, and that everything should be add ed to it that will enlarge it, and increase at the same time its fertilizing properties. 6. That no farmer or planter should depend upon une staple alone, but should seek to secure' imself against serious loss in bad seasons by diversity of products. An 91d Stoiy Retold. When the--Root were in Bermuda, the adjutant of the regiment had a dog, which was of a very savage nature. He had some of the bloodhound in him, and at night he was in the habit of prowlino. round the barracks, to the terror of sentinels and others who were compelled by duty or otherwise to be out after tatoo roll-call. One night the dog was the sub ject of conversation in the guard room, and one of the soldiers, a native of the Emerald file, broke in : "If that dog comes near .me on my post, I'll stick the bayonet in him." Sure enough he did; . for in the moaning "Nip" was found stark and stiff, with the ominous three-cornered hole Inade by the bayonet in his breast, through which his canine soul had fled to the hind where bayonets are never known. There was a tremendous out cry, And Dennis, the murderer, soon found himself the inmate of a "prisoner's room." On his being brought before Col. H—, the offense - was read over, and then the colo nel, after bearing the evidence, asked the prisoner what he had to say for himself.— "Well, sir, in the middle of the night, while on sentry, the dog came rushing toward me, snarling and showing his teeth, and I used my bayonet to defend myself." The adjutant here broke in with, "If the dog was running at you to bite you, why did you not strike him with the butt of your piece ?" "So I would, sir," sal Den nis, "had he run at me with his tallf,'. - The answer convulsed the colonel, and Dennis was ordered to return to duty at once. A disgusted Danbutian wants to know, if a woman was giec , ignPd to be the eival . of mu, why it is she can't whistle. 82,00. PER YEA R NUMBER-33 sit and umar. A new way A Western widow would like to meet the printer who, .when she, advertised for an .agent, made her . appear to want `.`a. gent." A waggish friend,of ours,•says the Wor cester; Mass., Budget. attempted to count the sleepy heads in the churtih. He reach ed as far as fifty,. and fell asleep himself. If a young lady.wlshes a gentleman to kiss her, what papers would she mention ? No Spectator. no .Observer, no Enqu;rcr. but as many Times as you please and hy as many Mails. A young gentleman recently- created quite a sensation while reading to a circle of young ladies a poetical effusion-"To a " —~lnouneing4l-last word in two sy:labl(t. ; The friend of a famous skater, who di ed in NeW York recently, would like to know exactly what the minister wh o preached the funeral sermon meant :by his pathetic statement that he had •"g on e where :there :is no ice." A gentleman lately entered a shop in which were books and various miscellane ous articles for sale, and asked the shop man if he had Goldsmith's Greece. "No," said hc, "but we have some splendid hair oil." The friend of a 'famous skater, who died in New York recently, would like to know exactly what . the minister who preached the funeral sermon meant by his pathetic statement that he had .`•,go'ne - where - th - en . was Ea ice." A man recently broke off a marriage because the lady did not possess good, con versational powers. A Mend told . him he should have married her, and then 6- fused her a new bonnet, to'have develop ed her power talk. An old Dutch tavern keeper, who had his third wife, thus expresse,s his views of matrimony "Veil, you see•de first I mar ried for love,dat was gook; den I mar ries for beauty—dat was goot, too, about as goot as de first ; but dis time I marries for monies—and dis wos so better as both." The Memphis Appeal tells the - story of an Irishman who got laughed at for mak ing faces overcome persimmons, and who retorted : qYe ;may grin, ye mutton-head ed idiots, hut I can lather the Simi out iv the man that spilt vinegar over thim plums. "Mother," said a little girl who was en gaged in marking her doll an apron, "I believe I will be a duchess when I grow up." "How do you expect to be a duchess, my daughter," said her mother. "Why, by marrying a dutchman, to be sure," replied the girl." A colored man was once asked 'why he did not get married. "Why, - ye* see, sah," said he, "I got-an old muddet, 'an I liad - ro do for .her, ye see, sah, 'an if &aft buy her shoes and stockings,, she wouldn't get none. Now, if I was to get married I - would hab to buy dent tings for my wife, 'an dat would he takin' de shoes 'an sti ckings right out o' my mudder'a mouf." TEM PARSON'S Wro.—A worthy Par son had, as worried parsons often do, be cause bald-headed, thought it no harm to assist nature in her tensorial operations, procured a wig. His old-fashioned con gregation was greatly exercised thereby. Some thought it very worldly for a par son to wear a wig at all, while some thought the shape "horrid." Others thought the hair should be shorter in front., 'some at the sides and some behind. Fi nally, the good pastor invited the breth ren and sisters to meet him at the parson age. When they were assembled he hand ed his wig to them to be trimmed accord ing to their tastes. One clipped it here, another in a different place, until the poor wig looked like anything but a head of hair. When banded back to the parson he.examined it carefully and.then grave ly said : ,"Brethren and sisters we may safely worship this; for it is the 'likeness of nothing in the heavens above, on the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth:" HEALTH IssrnaNcE.--A thin,. cada verous looking German, about fifty years of age, entered. the office of a Health In surance Company in Indiana, a few Bays ago, says the Daily Courier, and inquir- "Ish to man in vat insbures Ale peoples belts ?" The agent politely ,answered, tend to that businese. "Veil, I vents mina bolts inshuredi vot you shargeY" "Different prices," anmvered the agent "from three to ten dollars a year ;• nay ten dollars a year and you get tea .aol- Jars a week in cese of sickness." "Vell," said Alynheer, "I cants ten dollar vort." The agent inquired his state of health. "j'el I, ii.ll sick nll time. I'se shunt out of bed two or tree hours a tay, unt to doctor sitys can't do nothing mote good fal 'me." "If that's the state of 'cornr health:" re turned the agent, we can't insure IL Wo only insure persons who are ingood health. this Vynheer brtled up with an• ger. ciYon most tint: foort:yot you Itelc T ef - . l to pa," 3 -4, 4 a. tun 4011 --4 -11 - ,r- Lk , siwemy heft vep L ."I at-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers