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-