. . ~ • . . . ~ . -... . . . . . , . , . . , . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . , . • ...• . • . . • , . • . .. - • . .. ...... „ . . :. I ' C417 . e. , „ 4: _.. ,4 " Ili; • 'k ' , . , . 04.•• . . , , ~/.;:. :, ,' A. . • " k t .•',' '?.I . • ; ''',l„ `•, '4, ..:,.; '' ' '''' -'' :, t •-• , , ..., , ...:,, •rr , y , .... . - 5 • :.s'" . • .... . . ... .1. '•!,v • - c E :.1 . ! . .s• 'N A. .... • ~:t e. . 0 • t ,: , • 11t. ,. , 1 ~;,. ~ - , z,-, i ..4,: ... , Q. ..,:. - ~:t,,, .. ~. -.;.: • 3:o4:fy i . ...• -...... ... •,.. . , : .. f ,. ..,.. •- • , $l . • - ~, --- Q. .., . - ...,- ~ ~,. .sJ . f 1; z, __ ....; ~ , , ,. - • t , .:1 . . . ;• , ~ „,, r s . ,311' , , „, r . . ' if ' .: ~." W; .YS .t. v 4 :Cc ', • •:. et u . , . . .. .. , ;''''.• 44 1111 : , , , A l .. '•:":!: ' 1'; ' i.• • •.• • ' ' .I. • A , t --,;, , ..:. :9 ' : ~ 1 l'', ~ .:. ; ' ..i a " l„ . ' tzt, '," '...., ~. ~.; .... '•,.. . . ... . 1 i . 4, . - . . .. • • 'it ~ t ~.: . ~,,,, . t ~. , ~,, 1 r •.• Is. . •t , r -:, ..• .!.. .. -• . . . . . . A , . . - • . . . , . . • . . • . • • . . . . • • . c go „ . ...• . • , _ . . . . Y W. BLAIR VOLUME 25. ri'lli WAYNESBORO' VILLAGE RECORD PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING • By W. BLAIR. TERMS—Two Dollars per Annum if paid within the year; Two Dollars and Fifty cents after the expiration of the year. _ADVERTISEMENTS—One Square (10 lines) three insertions, $1,50; for each subsequentinsertion, Thir live Cents per Square. A liberal • discount made to yearly adver tisers. LOCLLS.-- , -Business Locals, Ten Cents per line for the first insertion, Seven Cents for subsec.luent insertions profellional Olards. Jr. E. AIIIBL*RSON, D., , PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, WAYNESBORO', PA. Office at the Waynesboro'. "Corner Drug ore." [jane 29--tf. - B. FRA.NTZ, Has resumed the practice of Medicine. OFFICE—In the Walker Building—near cthe Bowden House. ,Night calls should be •made at his residence on' Main Street ad oiniug the Western School House. July 20-H C. SNIVEL-Y, M - 17., AND SURGEON, WAYNESBORO ' PA. Oilie.e at his iegidenee, nearly opposite 'he tiomien House. Nov 2—tf: DOTTG-E,A.s, AT:real:4l'2Y AT LAW. WAYNESBORO', PA. Practices-in-the se,veral.Courts of-Franklin and adjacent Comities. N. B.—Real Estate leased and sold, and Fire Insurance effected on reasonable terms. December 10, 1871 . ;ILK, StRIIGNAERi v ( FORMERLY OF MERGE:USE URG," PA.,) ®citizens Ms Professional services to the ‘ficitizens of 'Waynesboro' and vicinity. Dn. STRICKLER has re:inquished an exten sive practice at Alerversburg. where he has ,been prominently engaged fora number of yeitrs in the practice of his profession. He has opened,an Oliice iu Waynesboro', at the residence of George Besore, Esq.. .1 Father-in-law, where he can be fount at al times when not professionally engaged. July 20, lBil.-tf. DR. .I. M. RIPPLE. • DR. A. S. BONEBRAKR. RIPPLE St.. 33011BRAXE, 11'A.YESBOR0'. PA. Having associated themselves in the prac tice of aedieine and Surgery, offer their professional services to the public. Office in the room on the ..orth East Cor. of the Diamond, formerly occupied by Dr. John J. Oellig, deed. July 18, 1812—ly • A. K. B ISHOLTS, SI.DENT DENTIST lAik;.-• t L( ' '-'''' --)1.-Y;;:-.)_7-1" WAYNESBORO', PA., (lAN be found in his office at all times, riJwhere he is preliared to perlbraa all Dental operations in the Lest and moat tkil Ifni manner. _ _ We being acquainted with Dr. Bramis lioltssoeially anti profession,illy recoil - num: hint to :La desiring the services of a Deutitst. Drs. E. A. HERING, " M. RIPet.,E, " A. 11. STRICKLER, " .1. B. AM BERSON, " I. N SNI V ELY, " A. S. BONBRA KE, " T. 1). FRENCH, 33.A_ TZ, 73 TZ, 1 T - I MEM subscriber in forms the public that he continues the Bid-herb!, business in the room next door to Mr. Reid's Grocery Store, and is at all times prepare to do hair cut ting. shaving,s hampooning etc. in the best style. The patronage of the public is respect fully solicited, Aug 23 1871 PTIITMFTTIM774:: • InrirTiZrelli r rim subscriber would inform the public that he is at all times prepared to make o order Gents Coarse or ene Boots, also coarse or fine work for Ladn-s or Misseq, in cluding the latest style of lasting Gaiters.— Repairing done at short notice, and measur es taken in private families if desired Shop on East Main Street, in the -room formerly occupied by J. Elden, as a flour and feed F tore. THOS. J. HOLLINGSWORTII 4. H. FORNEY & CO. Produce , cogortiesion iretrchaats, No. 77 NORTH STREET, BALTIMORE, MD. Pay pafticular attention to the sale of Flour, Grain, Seeds, &c. July IS, 1872-ly ZaZZZIYZZF 0000.;$ 1 TO THE LADIES! L. HOLLINBERGER has just .I.Tkreceived a full supply of new Millinery goods. Ladies are invited to call and examine her Mock. DIAZECIND OK S.,.'O2CE 1 • NOTICE' A Matter of Importance to Parents ! We are selling school books from ten to fifteen per cent less than they can be had elsewhere. Sept 26-tf .BR WIC:BILL & GEISER. SHINGAES rirql E subscriber has now for sale a prime • article of Chestnut Shingles, a supply of which he will continue to keep on hand.— has also for sale a large lot of dlastering Laths. NOTICE '111) BUILDERS. A fine rot Pine Building, Lumber for sale _lkand will be furnished in rough, or hew ed in proper sizes to snit purchasers of Ttillq. Apply at NTONTERGY SPRINGS. • April 1, 1572-11 Some one has gone from this strange world Of ours, No more to gather its thorns with its flow- No more to linger where sunbeams must fade, • • Where on all beauty death's fingers are laid; • Weary with mingling life's bitter and sweet Weary with parting and never to meet, Some one has gone to the bright, golden shore ; Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door! • Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door! Some.one is resting from sorrow •and sin, Happy where earth's conflicts enter not in; Joyous as birds when the morning is bright When the sweet sunbeams have brought us their light, Weary with sowing and never to reap, Weary with labor, and welcoming sleep, Some one's departed to heaven's bright shore Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the door !' Ring the bell softly, there's crape on the Angels are anxiously longing to meet One who walks with them in heaven's bright street Loved• ones hat e whispered that some' one is blest— Frele•from earth's trials, and taking sweet :rest. Yes there' is one more in angelic bliss— One less to cherish, and one less to kiss ; One more. departed to heavens bright shore Ring the bell softly; .there's crape on the door; Ring the bell softly , there's crape on the door! At that time, in Kentucky, (said the Hon. Mr., Knott, M. C.,) the law was very strict against what is termed "games of chance." 'About a dozen of the boys were detected playing "seven up" or "old sledge" fbr money, and the grand jury found a true bill against them. Jim Stur gis was retained todelend them when the ease came up of course. The more lie stu died over the matter and looked into the evidence, the plainer it was that he must lose a case at last—there was no getting around that painful act. Those boys had certainly been hettine. t' money on a game of chance. Even public sympathy was arou'ed in behalf of Sturgis. People said it, was a pity to see him mar his success ful career with a big, prominefit case like this, which must go against him. But after several restless nights an in spired idea flashed upon Sturgis, and he sprang out of bed delighted. He thought lie saw his way through. The next day he whispered around a little among his few friends, and then when the case came up in court lie acknowledged the seven up and the besting, and as his sole defence, had the astounding effrontery to put in the plea that old sledge was not a game of chance! There was the broadest sort of a smile all over the faces of that sophis ticated audience. The judge smiled with the rest. But Sturgis maintained a coun tenance whose earnestness was even se vere. The opposite counsel tried to ridi cule him out of his position, and did not succeed. The judge jested and joked in a ponderous, judicial way about the thing, and did not move him in the least. The matter was indeed beginning to look'grave The judge lost little of his patience, and said the joke had gone,far enough. Jim Sturgis said he knew of no joke in the matter—his clients could Lot be punish ed for indulging in what some people chose to consider a game of chess. Judge and counsel said that it would be an easy matter, and forthwith called Deacon, Job, Peters. Burke, and Johnson, and Domi nies Wirt and Miggles, to testify ; and they unanimously, and with strong feel ing, put down the legal quibble of Stur gis, by pronouncing that old sledge was a game of chance. '`.!What do, you call it now ?" said the judge. "I call it a game of science !" retorted Stut.gis; "and I'll prove it too !" They saw his little game. He brought in a cloud of witnesses , , and produced an overwhelming mass of testi mony, to show that old sledge was not a game of chance, but a game of science. Instead of being the simplest case in the world, it had somehow turned out to be an excessively knotty one. The judge scratched his head over it a while and said there was no way of coming to a de termination, because just as many men Could be brought into court who would testify on the other. But he said he was willing to do the fair thing by all parties and would act upon any suggestion ,Mr. Sturgis would make for the solution of the difficulty. IV. A. PRICE S. B: RINEFIART Mr. Bturgis was on his feet in a see ond : "Impanel a jury of six each, Luck vs. Science—give them candles and a couple decks of cards, send them into the jury roam, and just abide by the result!" c t , tiett pettrg. efAl t skb, BING THE BELL SOFTLY. Alit.ittllaurous Science vs. Luck. BY MARK TWAIN A FAMILY NEWSPAPER-=-DEVOTED TO LITIRATUEE, LOCAL AITD'OLIT4WAL..NEWS. WAYNFSBORO 9 , FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., TILUIt§DAY,; FEBRUAIIy „0, , 1873. There was no disputing the.fairness of the proposition. The, fcur deacons and the two dorninies, were sworn • in as the "chance" jurymen, and six inveterate •old seven-up professors were chosen to.repre sent the "science" side of the issue. They retired to the jury room. In about two hours. Deacon Peters sent into court to borrow three dollars from a friend., [Sensation:] ,In about two hours more, Dominic Miggles sent into • court to borrow a "stake" from •a friend. [Senses , Lion.] During the next three or four hours the other donlinie and the other deacons sent into court for small loans. And still the packed audience waited ; for it. was a, prodigious occasion in Bull's. Corners, and one in which every father of a family was necessarily interested. The rest of the story can be told brief ly. About .daylight the jury came, and. Deacon Job, the foreman, read the fol lowing verdict : • We the jury in • the cate of common wealth or Kentucky vs• John Wheeler et al., have carefully considered the points of the case, and tested the merits of the several theories advanced, and do hereby unanimously decide,that the game com monly known as an old sledge or seven up is eminently a game of science and not of Chance. -In demonstration whereof, it was 'here by and herein stated, iterated and reiter ated, set.forth, and made manifest that during the entire.night, : the .chance never won a game or tuz nealaek, although both feats-were-common-and-frequent-to-th • opposition ; and further more, in support of this our verdict, we call attention to the significant fact that the 'chance' men are all buited, and the 'science' men have got the money. It is the deliberate opinion of this jury that the 'chance' theory con cerning seven-up is a pernicious doctrine, and calculated to inflict untold suffering arid pecuniary loss upon . any community that takes stock in it." "Thet•is the way that seven-up become to be set apart and particularized in the statute bookssof . Kentucky as being a game not of chance but of science; and therefore not punishable under law,' said Mr. Knott. "That. verdict is of record, and holds good to this day." The welcome letter is read—thilce wel come, for itsays, "I will be home to-night." H - ow softly bright the mother's eyes, as she' busies herself about the house, Making it fresh and inviting for the absent one. How merrily the children shout and caper as they are told that "Papa is coming home to-day" Mother prepares his favorite dish for the late tea; sinter Anna practices over the old Scotch ballad papa loves hest, and Rob and Hattie can scarcely wait for nightfall. • The hour comes at length, and brings papa, laden with all those parcels which are so delightfully mysterious to the club drch. What a glad shout and rush to greet papa! • What a flood of happy questions and answers! , What an undoing of parcels, whose wrapping are so troublesome, and whose Btrillaß will knot. Then the pet rabbit and Mips Dolly's new dre ,, s, made by Hattie's own tiny fin gers, are shown and much admired. The evening, swiftly glides away, the good-nights ate said, and all go to rest; while the clock ticks on more contentedly than ever, now the p master is home again ; or at least mother thinks so, as . she lies listening to its sound a few moments be fore falling asleep. "Jimmy, father is coming,, let's run," an two dirty, ragged little creatures hurL ry out of the basement, into which a drun ken man stumbles the next moment. Finding no one there but his poor, mis erable wife, he begins the usual order of things by cursing and abusing her. The abuse at length reaches blows, and the wretch'd woman escapes into the street calling for help, her husband following her. . "That's Jim, I'll be bound," mutters the policeman, as he buttons up his coat and starts down the narrow, dirty street in the direction of the sounds, while the children cower tremblingly in the corner, now and .then peering forth to see if "fath er is coming." Loud, fierce words and oaths reach their ears, and soon they see the "star" shining, and know by that the policeman is coming back, and, by the noise and confusion, that he is taking "father" to the station. When they are qquite• past and out of sight, the frightened little objects draw a long breath of relief, and wine out of the corner and back to the hovel they call "home," comforting themselves with the assurance that "Father won't be home to night, anyway." "My darling is coming home to-night," whispers the young girl to herself; as she flits about, now here, now there, restless with joy, and snatching every possible moment to read again the dear lines which brought the glad tidings. She counts the hours and moments as they drag along—to her at least—and; as the time draws near, she takes out the white dress and pretty ribbons she wore the night John told her "she looked so beau tiful," and after a careful toilet and a last smiling, lingering look at the charming picture she meets in the glass, runs out to the garden and gathers a bouquet -of the freshest, choicest flowers, and placing one on. her bosom and another in her hair, she selects a sweet half-opened rose for "dear John:" In a few moments the well known step and voice are heard, and the next instant she is clasped .to her lover's breast. Nur now does she even whisper the fund Corning Home words of the morning—that is only far her heart, as vet—but her eloquent, hive lit eyes and. blushing"faceitie an all-sufll cient answer when her lover's. deep, ten der heart whispers,, "Is my darling so ve ry glad to see me?" When the brown curls press the pillow late-at night, she looks out at the bright, glimmering stars, and thinks,. "what—a beautiful world it is !" Ah! the beauty she sees is owing chief ly to the feet that her lover haS come home to-night. There is another' coming home—to a dark, dreadful home. So utterly dark and wretched my pen refuses to attempt a description of it. Banished from all things beautiful, holy,, and pure, to a world of darkness, pain and despair, who can measure the fathomable depths of woe and anguish which must attend the corn ing borne of the lost? In a bright, a glorious mansion, they are making ready for the coming home of many loved ones. There, is a joyful flutter of wings, a tun ing of melodious harps and lyres. The soft, pure air is ladened with the refrain, "They are coming home ! they are 'coming home!" • Here, close by the gates, a faithful_ mother is waiting to welcome home her child. , The fond husband waits for, the absent wife; the "lost baby" rongs for its mother, and the gentle sister looks' eager ly for her brother, the wild, young insoth -erT-to—whom she—whispered — at — parting - , - "Meet me in heaven, Charlie." Friend waits for fiicnd, the pastor for his flock. There is a glad, expectant stir, the pea•r• ly_gates_are_openetLwide,_and_amid_the_ triumphant anthems of heaven's host, the ransomed enter in. Oh, -what a meetiik -, for that mother, husband, sister, friend. But far above all these is the joy of the . ved with the Saviour, of the repentant prodigal with his Father, of the sheep with the Shepherd. No more temptation for the sinner and the prodigal ! No more wandering for the sheep in rough and lonely ways ! No more weariness, pain or sorrow ! At home forever, where all is joy, love and peace !—Christian Union. Wedding Tours. Wedding tours have become as fashion able as they are expensive. As a fash ionable custom we protest against them. Let all who can afford it enjoy the-lux ury to their heart's content, but let none in moderate circumstances, who have to work for a living, and who need a thou sand things more than they do a view at Niagara, or a week at Saratogo, purchase a chain of notoriety, or respectable con formity to custom, at an expense of from two to five hundred dollars, by spending a few miserable days among, entire stntm gem, amid the bustle and confusion of ho tel life; or enjoying the doubtful luxury of being rode on rails. Circumstances, in this as in every ques tion, determine proprieties. But what we protest against is the tyrannical reign of' fashion. It has no right to dictate in this matter. It may be that the fancy be li censed to treat with poetical indifference the ordinary affairs of life on so inspiring an occasion as that of' marriage, but we can discover no valid reason, oeNertheless, why common sow. should be entirely dis carded as too vulgar or material a thing to be associated with the heavenly bliss of material experience. Admitting that marriage should . ele vate one above the unromantic things of this world for a time, we believe there is a return again in most cases to the vul gar things of earth, to labor; to duty, its perplexities as well as its ordinary pleas ures. It is not inexpedient, then, to be wise in, this matter. How many, however, are slaves to this fashionable folly, who have not the courage to break away from it ? How many are led into an extravagance in this matter, which they cannot right fully. afford, merely because some more fortunate, (or, we might say in many eas es, more unfortunate,) do so. How many contrary to reason and good judgment, follow this fashion, merely to make a show, for the sake of appearance, which must. sooner or later, appear to have been false and counterfeit. The Laws of Health,. There are few things with which the majority of us are less acquainted than with our own organization and the condi tions upon which our bodily health de pends. And yet it is much more impor tant that we should learn how to avoid disease and to cherish health'in ourselves and in those who are dear to us, than that we should possess a knowledge of the dead languages or any other-lore included in the ordinary round of collegiate. educa tion. Physiology should Jae taught in all our seminaries and educational intitutions. Whoever understands even the leading principles of this valuable science must regard with regret the manner in which its laws' are set at naught by society at large: In their dregs, in their debt, in their household economy,' in their busi ness pursuits, in their amusements, in a thousand things that they do and neglect to do, three fourths of the commtinitf as habitually and constantly violate the rule; of hygiene to ruin their constitutions and shorten their lives. Surely% if anybody knew the physiological consequences of overstimulating the brain, or neglecting to protect the lungs, of overtaskiug the stomach, of breathing impure air, we should have less drinking, less consump tion, less dispepsia, fewer of all the ills, not that flesh is "heir" to, but that it in vokes upon itself by its own folly; than we have at present. If physiology and the conditions of health were universally understood, the mortality of the human race, in large towns especially, would be materially dimini3hed. A.,Tger, • .4:114 proverb h it, that `,`murder will out." There' are any curious things' in this 'line wrttpped p in a story pub lished by the Sacram •nco Union- 7 a . stoiy. es full of horrors as any ,which 'even a . Mrs. Wood could frame. The story isin the form of an affidavit _ made , before al justice of the peace in Sacramento City. Anna Lohry testifies that on the 19th of February. 1869, she left home to, gather some early spring &wen, and after a time found herself in the vicinity of what wa known as the Corliss Ranch. Sitting down to rest, she was made the involuntary wit ness of a terrible struggle between two brothers, resulting , seemingly from a quar rel over the distribution of several 'thou sand dollars. ,She saw the death blow struck, and screamed, which attracted the' murderer's attention: The latter, smitten with terrible remorse, prayed by all things she loved on earth, to go to the aid of his brother. She was almost paralized with fear and horror, but managed to reach the side of the dying man. She held' his head and tried to - bind up the wound, but the man died in a few minutes. The mur derer wept such tears as only a murderer, and a fratricide at that, can weep, and then the matter or his own safety came in. - He - urged - the girl to take his brother's share of the money and keep silent, but she refused. He seemed half-minded__to_ kill her, but finally, with revolver•at her head, made her swear a dreadful oath that she would not reveal the secret of the murder for four years, that term being named because his mother could not leave the State before that 'period. The mur derer went to a place near by, where were -two- horses; - and - took - a blanket - from one of them and prepared to cover up the body. Then they left the spot.' Several times he put the revolver to her head on the fearful journey; but - finally she saved her life. The murderer had promised to release her from the keeping of the secret, if pos sible, in less than four years. So she met him several times in the Uniontown grave yard. Finally he released her from what she had considered binding, and so she just now makes this affidavit To think of that deed ! To think of the scene at the brook, when the murder er made her wash her apron of the blood, while he washed his hands and was death ly sick ! To think of that young girl car rying. that terrible secret for fbur years, because she thought it binding !—no words can set it forth. We once heard Beecher say that he would like to know, for one half-minute, the feelings of a murderer. For one half-minute, and no more; that would be an age. But who could stand the ordeal of a half-minute of the man of Corliss Ranch ? Reason would totter. A Mysterious Chair. A lady; friend of our assistant informs him of a strange freak played by one o her chairs last week. She had been sit ting in her chair operating her . sewing machine, when her attention was divert ed to the crib by the cry of a baby occu pant some five or six months old. Lay ing aside her work the lady arose, went to the crib and took the child out, and was soothing it, when, happening to look around, she observed a slight:tremor in the chair she had just vacated, and then a slow tilting commenced, the chair grad ually coming over until it lay flat upon the floor, as if gently placed there by un seen hands, not the least noise accompa nying the movement of the -chair.. No one was in the room at the time except the lady and the, child, and they were some ten feet from the chair. She sat and watched the movement from begin ning to ena, which occupied, she thinks, about six or seven seeonds.. She is much exercised over the affair,. being utterly at a loss to account for such a strange oc currence. She is an intelligent lady, not in the least given to superstition, but is inclined to Ix& upo'n it as a token of some impending calamity, and is nervous -ly awaiting the issue, and asking herself, "What does it foreshadow ?" The event has created quite a sensation in that part of our city where it transpired, and is the subject of various conjectures.—Paris Ken tuckian. THE LOAF OF BREAD.-1 - H a time of famine a rich man allowed twenty 'of the poorest children in the town ,to come to his hodse, and said to them : "In this bas ket there is. a loaf of bread for each of you ; tak it, and come again at the same hour every day until God sends better times." The children pounced upon the basket, struggled and fought over the bread, be cause each wished to have the largest and best loaf, and then they went away with out a word of thanks to their friend. But Francesca, a little girl meanly tho' neatly dressed, stood at a distance, and gratefully took the loaf that was left in the basket, which was the smallest, then she kissed the good man's hand and went quietly home. The next day the children were just as naughty and ill-behaved, and this time there was left for poor Francesca a loaf that was hardly half as large as the oth ers. But when she reached home her mother cut the bread, there fl.ll out a number of new pieces of silver. The moth er was frightened, and said, "Take back the money this moment, for it is certainly in the bread by mistake." • , Francesca took it back. But the kind inau said: "It is no mis take, my good child.. I had the money baked in the smallest roaf in order to re ward you. Be always contented and yielding with the smallest loaf, rather than quarrel for the largest, and you will receive abundant blessings." Time is the old justice that examines all ()Milder& • :;,Miseries of Self-Importance. •i • ObServe how self-impottaa6C makes a man moody and unhappy. He who is always thinking of his Own excellence renders himself thereby unfit to enjoy the good of otheri, and is prone ,to imagine `that•every token Of affection given to an other -is an insult °area' to himself.— ,Hence he is touchy, serisative, irritable, and envious. He takes offence when none is meant, and even when - those around him are, not•thinking of him at all he in .terrirets their conduct as if it were studi ously diScourteous, and goes through the world smarting from wounds which 'have sprung not so much from .neglect of oth ers as from his own over-weening self-con ceit. There is no surer way to make our selves miserable than to think of ourselves more highly than we ought to think. It isolates us from all about us. It cuts us off alike from human sympathy and Di vine assistance. It makes us very Ish maels, with our hands against every man and every man's hands apparently against us. It gives a jaundiced hue to the be havior of those who, so far from meaning to do evil to us, have our best interests at heart, and love us with self sacrificing af fection. The man who has a wound a bout him, no matter where it may he, feels it to• be always in his Way. -Let him do-what-he-will,-or-gr-where he-may—he cannot move himself but he is con=cious of its pain. In like manner he who has this feeling of self-importance is continu- a y smarting. °met I,y as a ways been slighting him. He is constantly complaining of having been insulted, and when honor is given to another he feels nothing but he has been over-looked. Thus he shuts himself out from every fes tival, and mopes moct of all when others are merry. May Go:1 deliver us from this idolitary of self, on whose altar all true nobleness and real happiness are completely immolated.— Taylor. CIIILDREN IN ScnooLs.—A. German physician has just come to the conclusion that children have bodies. The statistics which he has gathered, if they tell the truth, are a terrible warning against the overstimulating of the minds of the young. One-third of the school children in Neut. chatel, 'Switzerland, and in Darmstadt, he found were subject to the sick head ache. Seventeen•per . centum of the ten thousand scholars in and near the capital of Silesia were near-sighted. Curved spines,.pulthonary diseases, caused by im perfect ventilation and inhaling of dust, were frequent. Here is a lesson for us. The amount of injury done to the child, directly and indirectly, to mind and body, in our schools, is alarming. Teachers are not always to blame; indeed, rarely are they. But committees, who shape the in struction and apportion the time, are gen erally the sinners'. Ignorant of the phi losophy of education, the laws of growth, they guage the teacher, not by the influ ence he exerts, but the number of minutes spent in driving knowledge into memories already over-full. Quantityis the thing desired not quality. Children. in the fields till the age of seven, then at their school tasks but four hours out of the twenty- Tour, that wills be the golden age of child hood. God speed the happy day.—Her old ,of Health. • A' liMDRED 'YEA.TIS . TO COME.—No man ever appears to think how 'soon he must sink into oblivion—ghat we are one generation of milliOns. Yet such is the fact. Time and progress have, through countless ages, come, marching baud in hand—the one' estfoYing, the other build ing up. They seem tb create little or no commotion, and the work of destruction is as easily accamplished as a child will pull to pieces a rose. Yet such is -the fact. A hunjired years hence, and much that we now see around us will have pass ed away. It is but a repetition •of life's story ; we are born, we die ; and, hence, we will grieve -over these venerable piles, finding the common level of their proto types in.Nathre, ultimate: We all within our graves shall sleep, A hundred years to come; No living soul for lei shall weep, A hundred years to come ; But other men our land will till. And other men our streets will fill, And other birds shall sing as gay; As bright the sunshine as to-day, A hundred years to come. ASLEEP TOR NINE YEARS.—The Be low New Nation prints the following, and Kingston people want of know who the lady in question is : "A lady in Kingston has lately awoke from a nine years' sleep. She fell into a stupor, awakening at noon each day, to receive refreshments, which had to be fed to her, she not being able to move hand or foot, nor speaking during the whole interval. If her attendant was not there when she woke, she immediate ly Went to sleep again, not awakening un til the next day at noon. Upon her re covery she called for her clothes, as if a wakened from her usual rest ; and upon her friend coming Wee her she would re mark : 'How old you have grown !"How gray your hair is !' or 'How wrinkled your face is !'—not remembering that she had been asleep for nine years. Her son, who was quite a lad when she went to sleep, and who is now a man grown, she utterly disclaims, saying he is not her son at all. At a ladies temperance meeting not long since, one of the members remarked that the temperance cause had been a ble.ssing, to her,' "for," she added, "I slept with a barrel of rum for tea years; but now," she continued, her eyes brightening, "since my husband signed the pledge I have had a man to sleep with !" Then all tne spin ters laid their hands on their 'beasts and sang—Amen. None but cowards lio. 82,00 PER YELP, NUMBER 3 t .au d ninor. 4 .. Giving sev ee s hundred pounds (if coal for a ton is a: g "the weighs that are da en rk." ' • Why is the Jettdr . Lin the word tart' like a nose? Because it .stands be tween two. i's. Of earthly goods, .the best Is a .good wife ; a bad one, the bitterest curse of human life. Why is the strap 4 d an omnibus like a man's conscience? Because it is an in ward check on the °Mu. man. A "monster in human tbrm" savey that the only time a woman does not exage rate is when she is talking of her own age. Augustus says young men get tight by solacing themselves with the "ardent ;" hut that young ladies get tight by so lac ing themselves in quite .a different man ner. Of corsets so. An Irishman meeting another, asked him what had become of a mutual friend. "Arrah, now, my dear honey," answered he, "Paddy was condemned to be hanged,. but he saved his life by dying in prison." An Irishman being asked vrha:the came to America for, said, "Is't 'what I came here for, you mane? Arrah by the ow- - e - W. you may e sure tat it wash t for want, for I had plenty of that at home." A young lady in Western New York has an offer of marriage from a wealthy lover whose name is Hussey. It is impossible not to admire the spunk of that woman who refuses to lie called a Hussey for any man. A wealthy but miserably old man (lin ing in the city.one day with his son at a restaurant, whispered in his ear, "Tom, you must eat for to-day and to-morrow." "Oh, yes," retorted the half-starved lad, "but I ha'nt eaten for yesterday and the day before, yet." The way to wealth is as plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words—lndustry and Frugality— that is waste.neither time nor money, but make the best use of both. Without in dustry and frugality nothing will do, and with them everything. A young gentleman of Morristown, N. J., was playing at hay making with a ru ral Maud Muller, and rather liked it un til a swarm of yellow jackets crawled up his nankeen trousers. Maud laughed heartily at the Irish jig he danced until she got "some of it in her'n." "Do you know Brown?" •"Yes." • "What kind of a man is he.?" "Oh, tolerable " "Thereare worse men than he is, ain't there ?" "Y -e-s ; but I think they are all in the penitentiary," In Connecticut, a certain justice was called to jail to liberate a worthleis debt or by receiving his oath that. he was not worth twenty dollars. "Well, Johnny," said the justice, on entering, "can you swear that you are not worth twenty dol lars, and that you never will he?" "Why," answered the other, rather chagrined at the question, "I can swear that I'm not worth that amount at present." "Well, well," returned the justice, "I can swear to the rest, so go along, Johnny." And the n►an was sworn and discharged. The stringent liquor law in Massachu setts had an alarming effect on the health 9f some of the citizens. The State con stables, however, seem to be able to cure the malady which it has produced, provi ded they can get a correct diagnosis of the case. In the town of East Douglas, two constables visited one of the invalids and found him bolstered up in bed suffer ing great agony. Some four gallons of liquor in bottles having been extracted from the pillows he was relieved at once. His pain was evidently sham. ANECDOTE OF DR. COX..—Some years ago a new church at Lockport, N. Y., be longing to the Presbyterian society,. of which the Rev. William C. Wisner, D.D., has long been the very popular pastor, was to be dedicated. A large number of divines of that denomination from Ito chester and vicinity having •beeti invited, left that city by railroad, grouped in, and Arming a large share of the men Pants of a car, in the early evening, expecting to arrive at Lockpert in time to enjoy a comfortable night's rest. Among the par ty was the 'distinguished Samuel Hanson Cox, D. D., then Chancellor of Ingham University, at Le Roy. It being mid winter and intensely cold, and an unusu ally heavy body of snow being upon the ground, a furious wind , and snow storm setting in, the train had not proceeded many miles before it, became blocked hi the snow, with a part of it oil' the track, and so cold and tenipeturms was the night, the train, though every possible effort was made, did not succeed in getting extrica ted until morning. . .„ When on the wing again, the condue. for made his round to look after tickets, and coming among the reverends, was impelled to reil:r to the discomforts and perils of the 'light, and also haying vivid impressions of the same exclaimed : "I tell you what, gentlemen,,we came very near all going to h-1 last night." Dr. Co - x, equalito the occasion and ex-• prerion, quickly and inapt:tip replied :, ou doubtless speak for, yourself, sir; but as for me and my friends here,' we-are ticketed to a different statiOn. 4 •