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BY W. BLAIR.
YOLUNE 26.
THE 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.
ADVEETISEMENTS--One Square (10
lines) three insertions, $1,00; for
each subsequent insertion, Thir
five Cents per Square. A liberal
discount made, to yearly adver
tisers.
LOCALS.—Business Locals Ten Cents per
line for the first insertion, Seven
Cents for subseauent insertions
proftssionat (!tardy.
J. B. ANDERSON, N. D.,
PHYSTCLAN AND SURGEON;
WAYNESBORO', P.A.
Office at the IVaynesboro' "Corner Drug
ore." • [june
101,;1,•11 MJ, RIFTLE t
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
Offers his professional services to the pub
c. Office in his residence, on West Main
street, Waynesboro'. april 24—tf
DR. BYNJ. FRANTZ,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
OFFICE—In the Walker Building—near
the Bowden House. sight calls should be
/made at his residence on Main Street ad
oining the Western School House.
Jtilv 20-tf •
ISAAC. N. SNIVELY,
• 'PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
WAYNESBORO' PA.
Office at his residence, nearly opposite
be Bowden House. Nov 2—tf.
JOSEPH IDOTTG-I_,A_S
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
WAYNESBORO', PA.
Practices in the several Courts of Franklin
and adjacent Counties.
N. B.—Real Estate leased and sold, and
Fire Insurance effected on reasonable terms.
December 10;1871.
U „ A LER t
(Fan. :RLY OF MERCERSBURG, PA.,)
OFFERS his Professional services to the
citizens of Waynesboro' and vicinity.
S'rincni.En haS relinquished an exten
sive practice at Mercersburg, where he has
been prominently engaged for a =libel. of
ycarsin the practice of his prolesion.
Be has opened an Office in Waynesboro',
at the residence of George Besore, Esq., 't
Father-in-law, where he can be founo at al
times when not professionally engage.l.
July 20, 1871.—tf.
Zr. E. FORNEY & CO.
.Prg duce 00X11-rn-LsSiCqz Merchants
No. 77 NORTH STREET.
J3ALTIMORE, MD.
Pay particular attention to the sale of
Flour, Grain, Seeds, &c.
Liberal advances made on consignments.
may 29-tf
1.10.c.5=
NDEhSU:NS v..inting Spring-tooth Hors..?
Bakes can be supplied with a first-class
article by calling on the subscriber. lie
.continuer, to repair all kinds of machinery
At short notice:lml upon reasonable terms.
The Metcalf excelsior Post Boring and
Wood Sawing Et::NW nes always on hand.
JoILN L. METCALF,
Quincy, Pa.
Feb 27-i
MUMMY NM t
AirRS. C. L. TIOLLINBERGER now Inca
ted at 37 Pearl Street, Baltimore, MI.,
bas opened a new Stock of the hest and
most fashionable 11Iillinery Goods, Order's
from the country promptly tilled at• prices
ttvhieh will give entire satisfaction,
act 10—tf
J. H. WELSH ,
WITH
W. V. LIPPINWTT & CO,
WHOLESALE DEALERS IN
Hats, Caps, Furs and Straw Goods,
No. 531 Market Street, Philadelphia, Pa
April 3-tf
BARBERING ! BAhBERING I
rrTIE subscriber bay' g, ree , idly re-paint
ed and papered al d added new ni
tare to his shop, ann races to his mstont
ers and the public tha he will I ye noth
ing undone to give satin • I and make
comfortable all who may be pleased to fa
vor hin► with their patronage. Shaving*.
Schampooning, Ilair-cutting, etc. promptly
attended to.. A long experience in the bar
bering business enables him to promise tt
isfaction in all eases. W. A. "TICE.
Sept 18-tf
THE BOWDEN HOUSE
,MAIN STREET,
WAYNESBORO', PENN'A.
MITE subscr;ber having leased this well
known H Jtel property, announces to
the public that he has refurnished, re-pain
ted and papered it, and is now amply pre
pared to accommodate the traveling public
and others who may be pleased to invor
him with their patronage. An. attentive
hostler will at all times be in attendance.
May 23—tf SAM'L P. STONER.
COACBMAKING.
PERSONS in want of vehicles of any de
scription, new or second-handed, can be
supplied at the old "'Waynesboro' Coach
Factory" on Church street. The subscrib
er cordially invites those desiring anything
in his line to call and examine his stock
and learn his prices, which he feels warran
ted in saying will compare lityorably with
that of any other establishment in the coun
ty.
lit:Pmatso of all kinds will receive prompt
attention.
Thankful to the public for past patronage
he solicits u continuation of the same in the
future. JACOB ADAMS.
april 10-tf
elttt Vl:du..
..„."'" STRUGGLE FOR THE LIGHT.
Droop not thou mortal fainting,
Shake off thy load of care,
Let not its size distress thee,
Its weight no longer bear,
There's not an ill that God sends down
• But brings its balm along ;
Though you may think your lot is hard,
He can do nothing wrong.
The cares and toils, and petty griefs,
That hang o'er all of earth,
They come to all, and follow ail
Unto the grave from birth,
And he who shrinks from little ills,
And cowers with fear and dread,
Before life's stern realitins,
Has neither heart nor head.
Though poverty may bear thee down
With stern heel shod with pain,
A strong mind and a willing arm
Shall bring thee up again
s 1 ,, i sorrov
Dark o'er thy life a blight, •
Bear on, have faith, and never cease,
To struggle for the light.
Seek not too much for worldly wealth,
Nor burn too much for fame,
The one flies like the morning mist,
The other's but a,name.
Kno h' not too much of other's plans.
Your owrs enough for yin' ;
Still open keep to all who need
A heart that's narm and true.
By labor strive to leave a mark
To guide the coming race, '
A sign post on the path of time,
That years may not efface.
This life is but the brief prologue
Unto.the greater play,
But act it each and every one
• As though 'twould last for aye.
atthitrilautons altadinff.
TRUST.
Nat crawled out of his poor little bed,
which hardly desei veil the name of bed
at all. The room was very bare and
cold. As Nat slipped on what remained
of his only pair of shoes, a heavy cloud
seemed to settle down upon his face. His
mother, a.little woman, with a face pale
and worn, but cheerful, nevertheless, was
putting a few crusts of bread with three
or four cold potatoes, upon a plate.
"I do say, mother," said Nat, shivering
and looking about the room, "it is no sort
of use, we shall have to give up. I don't
see but we shall freeze to death with no
fire, and starve besides," and Nat sat down
upon the side of the bed and leaned his
',lice upon his hand. "I can't get a bit
of work to do, and there isn't a person in
the world that cares a cent about us," he
continued dejectedly. "It seems as if I
should not care so much as if it was just
myself; but to see you cold and hungry,
mother,. is more than I can bear," and
Nat burst into tears.
"'Why, my boy," said his mother, cheer
ily, "don't give up. Don't you, remem
ber that we have a Father who secs' all
our troubles, and if we *tly trust Him,
He will help us."
"You have said that tin• the last three
weeks, mother," said Nat, "ar,d I have
tried to trust Him, but things grow worse
and worse."
"'Thoth He slay me, yet will I trust
in Him,' is the trust we want to have."—
"Nattie," said his mother, sitting down by
his side and putting her arms around his
neck. "We have well other left yet, and
we are not really sick." Her eyes grew
a little dim as she looked at Nat's pale,
thin face, "and then—there is that nice
teacher at the mission school, you know,
who thought he could do something for
you."
"Yes," said Nat, wining his eyes with
the hack of his hand, "but I hilvert seen
him. and don't - know as I ever shall; my
clothes have got so had now that I can't
go to the school."
"Well, dear," said his mother, "we,will
eat what we have and be cheerful. We
shall not starve today, and maybe you
may get a few p.nnies for sweeping, and
I may find a little washing to do. At a
ny rate, we will try hard one day more.
We must look as cheerful and pleasant as
we can, too ; for people will be more like
ly to help us if we smile and look pleas
ant, than they will if we look cross and
sour."
Nat tried hard to smile and eat his
share of the scanty breakfast. Bidding
his mother•good-bv, he took his old broom
and started out, fie walked painfully up
street after street; for his feet were cover
ed with chilblains, and his old shoes were
hard and -full of holes. At last he select
ed a crossing to sweep where he thought
rich people might cross, and patiently
waited trying to look cheerful and smil
ing. During, the forenoon he got a few
pennies, but us the afternoon wore on he
tblt very faint and hungry, and leaning
on his broom, he began to think of what
his mother had said in the morning.—
"Though He slay me," kept ringing in
his head. "Ali," he thought to himself, "I
have not really trusted. When every
thing goes well, the trusting is easy e
nough, but when it comes to the 'slaying
I give in." Hearing voices near him he
started, and looking up, saw the mission
school teacher. Such a gleam of hope
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER---DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND' GENERAL NEWS. ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1873.
shot through his heart that it lighted up
his face, and he felt as if help had come.
"Ah, Nat, how do you do?" said his
teacher pleasantly, while the gentleman
who was with him looked on with some
surprise. "How are you gettina . e) on now?"
"Not at all," answered Nat, trying to
smile.
"I'm sorry," said his teacher. "I• hop
ed I was going to get a chalice for you
last week, but I lost it. 'Well, keep up
your courage ; I think we will find some
thing yet," and the gentlemen walked
on.
Nat lodked after them with tears rea
dy to come in his eyes. "Courage, with
nothing to eat," he thought, leaning on
his broom again ; "but that is not trust
ing, and I mean to really trust, for there's
nothing else I can do; and shutting his
eyes for a moment, be sent 'an earnest
little prayer to the loving Heavenly Fath•
er, who is just as ready to hear us when
we call to him from the noisy street as
from the hush of the church.
"Hullo, there, youngster," said a hear
ty voice. "Hold my horse here, and
give you a quarter."
Nat dropped'his broom and ran eager
ly to the horse. A portly gentleman
stepped with some difficulty,from the car
riage. Nat looked at him and smile:
ei.ta
pleasantly.
You think I am rather awkward,
yeungster," he said, "but I'm only just '
49 1-- ' -
outh have cast
oil tie water, and your miserable lant
traps I can't manage."
`'Oh no, sir, I did not think so at all,"
said Nat, looking at him wistfully, for his
own dear father died at sea, and there
was a charm about anybody who had been
on the water.
Something about the smile on Nat's
wan thee must have attracted the gentle
man, for he turned back after he had
started up the steps of the house.
"See here, my boy," said he, "what
were you thinking about when I drove
up ?"
Nat blushed faintly and hesitated a
little.
"You l'ookdd as if you were tip in the
sky, or somewhere else, and I had to
scream at you as if you were a mile off.
I should like to know what you were
at."
"I was trying to trust, sir," said Nat
softly, looking down.
"To what ?" exclaimed the gentleman,
looking at him in astonishment.
"To trust in Gcd, sir," said Nat
.look
ing up in his,face. "Mother and I .are
very poor, and have no friends, 'but she
fee's sure God will help us if we trust in
Him."
Captain Reid, for the gentleman was a
sea captain, thrust his hands into his pock
ets and whistled a little, looking hard in
to Nat's fitee.
• "What's your name?" he asked sud
denly.
"sat Raymond, sir," was the answer.
"Raymond !" exclaimed the captain ;
"was your father's name Nathan ?"
"Yes, sir," said Nat, in some surprise,
`and he died at sea. Did you know
him ?"
"Know him !" said Captain Reid.
"Bless your heart, boy, he saved my life
Once, when we were both before the Inuit.
Here, tumble into my carriage, and show
me the way to your mother, quick !
Nat would not have been more aston
ished if the sli) had fallen. lie glanced
at the carriage and then toward his
broom.
• "Let your old broom go to the dogs,"
said the captain ; "you won't need it
again ; get in quick and tell mewhere to
oo "
b•
` 4 l. do say, mother," said a young lady
who was looking out of the window,
"Uncle Reid is the queerdst man. He
has been talking with the most miserable
looking boy out here, and now lie has ac
tually taken him into the carriage and
gone off with him."
"He is always doing queer things," said
her mother. "He is just as likely to pick
up a ragged boy as the Vice-President."
Two or three hours after, Captain Reid
came back to his sister's house.
"Where did you go with that ragged
boy, uncle ?" asked his niece.
"That boy?" said her uncle, "why that
boy's, ather saved my life once. He died
on shipboard on his way home from Au
stralia, wore than two years ago. Be
was going captain nett voyage. He
touched at Liverpool going out, and I
saw him there. told me if I got home
first to see that his wife and boy were get
ting on well. I have not been here since
that Lime till to-day, and should never
have ibund them in the world, poo'r
things, if that boy hadn't smiled his fath
er's own smile into my face. He and
his mother was about starved, I should
say. and half frozen, too. But," he added,
rubbing his hands together and chuckling
to himself, "I guess they will be warm to
night, and if they are ever hungry again,
it won't be my blame."
Pay your debts. The present trouble is
not the lack of money, but that is not in
circulation. Money, like blood, is of no
use unless it flows. Brown owes Jones' for
instance ; Jones owes Robinson ; Robin
son owes Smith ; and each andall of them
are abundantly able to pay. But they
hold to their cash, and compel their cred
itors, big and little, to wait. They will
not even settle with each other, but go
about with doleful faces and fingers
clutching their pooket-books complaining
of hard times, and croaking of what may
be. This is all wrong, and can only
tend to prolong the very closeness and
and stagnation of which they so bitterly
complain.
This world and the next resemble the
east and the west : you cannot draw near
to one without turning your hack' to the
other.
[COMMUNICATED.
Superstition and Witchcraft.
The radical sense of the word Supersti.
tion may be said to be, to believe above
that which exists, to think beyond that
which is understood. Super, means above.
Stition, probably originated the Ger
man Stehen, and the latin stet,. to stand.
Hence, the person who. is superstitious, is
standing above the right place.
The ancient Brittons worshipped the
white oak. A certain general who under
took to conquer them, found it necessary
in order to subdue them effectualy, to cut
down their forests of white oak trees.—
Fourteen hundred years ago when the
gospel was introduced by forty . missiona
ries sent from Rome, they were in the hab
it of putting up idols of stone, somewhat
like a chimney, with a fire place in.the
inside, to throw their little children into
the fire, and offer them up unto tile gods.
At the present day the people of India,
bow down to wood and stone. , Some of
their idols are about the size of a mans
band ; at a short distance resembling a
ginger cake, or rather what the children
would call a baby cake.
The American Indians, about the year
1610, bad idols made of skins stuffed with
moss.. The white people at one time be
ing short of provisions, a certain captain
Smith stole one of those idols, and after
wards traded it back again for a consid
.;3le-quantity-of-corn.
The following account of witchcraft by
Samuel G. Goodrich of Boston, serves as
a striking illustration of the extraordina
ry results which may be
powers of the mind ; and of
the deeds of rapine, murder and blood,
perpetrated by the hands of :men, while
under the influence of superstition, folly
and madness.
"In the year 1692, two children of Mr.
Parris, a minister in Salem, Massachusetts,
were taken sick. They were affected in a
very singular manner, and the physicians
were sent for. They were at a loss to ac
count for the disorder, and one of them fi
nally said they must be bewitched.
The children, hearing this, and being
in great distress, declared than an Indian
woman, living in the house, had bewitch,
ed them. Mr. Parris believed what the
children said ; the Indian woman was ac
cused of the. crime, and, in a state of agi
tation and alarm, partially confessed her
guilty. This affair excited great at
tention ; many people came to see these
children, and they were very much pitied.
By and by, other children imagined
that they were affected in a similar man
ner, and they said that they were secretly
tormented by an old woman in the neigh
borhood. All these things• were believed
and more children and several women
soon declared themselves bewitched. They
charged several persons with being the
authors of their distress.
They pretended that these persons en
tered their rooms through key-holes, or
cracks in the window; pinched their flesh,
pricked them with needles, and torment
ed them in the most cruel manner. No
body could see these tormentors but the
sufferers themselves, although several per
sons might be in the room • where one of
the bewitched was wailing and shrieking,
front the pinches of the witch.
Strange as it may seem, this matter, in
stead of being regarded as a delusion, was
thought to be founded in reality. The peo
ple in those days believed that the devil
sometimes gave to certain persons great
power for purposes of evil. These persons
were said to deal with the devil, and they
were considered very wicked.
The business they were suppoSed to
carry on with him was called witchcraft,
and any person under their influence was
said to be bewitched. In England, Par
liainent had thought it necessary to make
severe laws against witchcraft. Several
persons there had been condemned and
executed under those laws. It was thought
proper to proceed in a similar manner at
Salem. Accordingly, those persons accus
ed of practising witchcraft upon their
neighbors were put in prison, and a court
was formed to try them.
Many of them were , examined and
found guilty, and some, under the influ
ence of a distempered imagination, con
ed that they were guilty. The busi
ness at length reached a very alarming
height. Nineteen persons had been exe
cuted, one hundred and fifty were in pris
on and many more were accused.
In this state of things, the people be
gan to doubt the correctness of their pro
ceedings. They examined the subject
more carefully, and were very soon satis
fied that they had acted rashly. The judg
es of the court also began to take differ
ent views of the subject. Those who were
brought to trial were theretore acquitted,
and those in prison released.
Thus ended this extraordinary delusion.
We at the present day, who know that
there is no such thing as witchcraft, can
not but wonder that our ancestors should
have believed in it, and that many per
sons should have been hung for a crime
that was only imaginary. But we should
I remember that it was a common error of
that age.
It was not an invention of their own.—
They received their notions from Eng
land, and it was natural that they should
act agreeably to them. We must do them
the justice to say, however, that they soon
discovered their error, and expressed their
sorrow for it."
h Nov. 29th, 1873. OBSERVER.
The wealth that comes easily is the
most unsubstantial thing -in the world.
The law; of acquisition are the only laws
which teach us to preserve wealth, and
these can only be learned during the pro
cess of acquisition. The man who gets
suddenly wealthy attempts to use the
wings of riches to fly with, instead of clip
ping them to prevent the flight of others.
[For the Record.
MY MOLLY DARLING. •
BY J. 11.' BARNES
The stars may pale,
• The moon may fail
To rear her silver crest ;
• The sun may pour
His rays no•more
Along the purpling west.
The robe of night,
With jewels so bright,
.No more may glad the eye,
Nor blushing day,
In bright array,
Ride up the Orient sky.
On early wing,
The lark may sing,
His matin song no more,
Nor o - eian's wave
In beauty lave
Its silver sanded shore.
The smiling plain
May ne'er again
Its verdant tints•unfold,
Nor Mollie's brow
Be twined as now,
With wreathe of wavy gold
But ever shall my memory,
My brightest fairest one,
Be hallowed by a thought, of thee,
Whom I have loved alone.
Pirrsauriu, PA., Nov. 10, 1873.
Life is Short
Reader, has it ever occurred to you how
short is the period allotted to man on
earth? How swiftly he passes frotn one
stage of life to_another, until the decrepi
tude of old age steals upon his weakened
frame and exhausted nature sinks beneath
the power of death !
To-day you behold the prattling infant,
beautiful in its infantile innocence, unac
quainted with the trials and troubles of
life, happy in its ignorance and innocence.
We contemplate the sight with pleasure ;
but behold adnew scene presents itsself to
view. There is a young man just enter
ing upon the arena of life. The sports
which are attendant upon the days of
childhood have passed away; and al
though he has many scores of pleasure,
yet duties press upon him, and he fre
quently. has to contend with disappoint
ments and difficulties, and he often wisp
es; as his mind wanders' back, that he
could be a child again. Now, we see a
man passed the meridian oflife; his brow
is covered with.wriukles ; his face looks
careworn and anxious; he has met with
trials and troubles repeatedly ; he has bid
a last farewell to much loved friends : he
has been betrayed by those in whome he
confided ; he has been buffeeted by the
storms of misfortune ; many crosses and
losses have marked his pathway. Again,
the scene changes, and we see an man,
his hair white as snow, his strength and
vigor gone. He has grown weak and fee
ble. and can with difficulty support him
self with the staff which he carries in his
hand. The rosy hue of health has left
his cheek, and every feature, every move
ment shows that he is fast nearing his e-'
ternal resting place!
Again the curtain rises, and we see the
hearse bearing its inanimate burden to the
grave—the last home of all that is left of
him whom we saw but a few years ago—
rejoicing in the amusements of youth.
He has acted his part in the drama of life
and passed off she stage, to make room
for others. All this has passed in a few
years, like the lightning's flash, that
shines in the heavens for a moment, and
is gone.. Such is the life of man !
Life is short and uncertain. To-day,
we see a man rich in all the vigor of
health and strength. To-morrow, death
seizes his prey, and he is borne to his last
resisting place. How important, then,
dear reader, that we should improve each
passing' hour. • If we would pause occa
sionally and consider that we have immor
tal souls •, if we would look beyond this
earth and see what a beautiful home is
awaiting our coming ; if we would permit
our hearts to be true to themselves; to
feel that there are sweet companionships
to be found there—perhaps. some loved
one—a happy change would be wrought
in our natures ! How much better fitted
we would then be to enjoy 'the blessings
of life ! But we seldom think of these
things until some loved ono is borne away
from our side to the land of shadows ; un
til we feel that one link in the chain of
association has been broken. But batter
this harsh stroke, if it reminds us of our
duty, than wait until the mind is weaken
ed by disease, and death is ready to seize
his victim.
Man's death and burial creates DO sari
thoughts beyond tho circle of home where
he was most intimately know. The din
and bustle of the , world goes on as ever.
The hearse and the funeral train passed
by. Perhaps 'a few of our fellows may
stop awhile to inquire who is dead ; then
pass on again, forgetting that a heart has
ceased to beat forever. Even the mourn
er's tears that floWed so freely are soon
dried up, and the crape, the dark badge
of death, are east aside, and the lifeless
clod of the valley is soon forgotten. Such
is life ! If we die to-day, the sun will
shine as brightly and the birds sing as
sweetly to-morrow. Not a wheel in the
machinery of the business world will cease
to move, and scarce a voice of mirth ,he
checked. Such is life ! How short it is !
How soon we are forgotten !
The world moves on, a creature dies,
And in the grave entombed he lies;
His soul to heaven—like a star is shot,
The flash is gone, and man forgot!
Pay the Printer and ererybody else
you owe.
The Tendency of the Times.
The tendency of the age is toward mo
ney-making. The'poor wish to become
rich, and the rich aspire to greater riches.
The tradesmen and the professional man
are no longer contented with small profits,
They desire to do in a year what their
fathers took a score of years to achieve.
The slow but sure method of earning mo
ney is no longer fashionable- It belongs
to the old stage coach period. Six per
cent. investments are laughed at. Ten,
twenty, fifty, and one hundred per cent.
are considered legitimate.
What was called rascality by our fath
ers passes current now for business shrewd.
ness. If a man can evade the letter of
the law, although he violates its spirit, he
is called sharp, and society hails him as a
shrewed manager. He is judged by his
success, and is envied by the crowd for
his ability and sagacity. Men of small
means grasp ventures that promise large
returns. They seldom stop to ask, is it
right or just, but plunge headlong to de
struction or to dazzling success.
Public officials of the Tweed stripe rob
the taxpayers of their hard-earned money,
and with millions of plunder enter the
courts and snap their lingers at the vain
efforts made to punish them. Money ar
rests the arm ofjustice corrupts legislation,
and wields a pow( 'march ever
dreamed of posses:
What can be (I(
tender'- if th
cendency oz.ze ;
the people. The
improved. We
-mon-sense-virtue
rich rascal was n. poor one,
when men were honored and judged by
the weight of their brains and not their
gold. There are honest men in every
community. They may not crowd the
sidewalks. or black the streets by their
number, but they can be found if the peo
ple care to look for them. Summon them
to the .fisont! Order the thieves and
money rascals to the rear! Make per
sonal Integrity the line ofadvancement!
and money, as the step stone to 'power
and influence, will lose its potent charm,
and be sought for simply as a means to
strengthen the arms• of honest endeavor,
and promote the general welfare if man
kind.
Respect the Body.
Respect the body, dear men and wo
men ! Speak of it reverently as it .deserves.
Don't take it into an unworthy place ;
give it sunshine, pure air and exercise.—
Be conscientious as to what you put down
its throat. Remember what is fun to the
cook and confectionery trades may be
death to it. Give it good, wholesome food;
let it be on intimate terms with _friction
and.soap and water ; and especially don't
render it ridiculous by your way of dress-
ing it.
Recognize the dignity of your body ;
hold it erect when you are awake, and let
it lie .out straiglik N when you're asleep.—
Don't let is go thßiugh the world with
little mincing steps or great gawky strides;
don't swing its arms too much and don't
let them grow limp from inactivity. Re
solve to respect its shoulders, its back and
fair proportions generally and straight.
way shall "stoops," and "wiggles," and
"grecian bends," be unknown forever.
Respect the body, give it what it re
quires and no more. Don't pierce its ears,
strain its eyes, or pinch its feet ; don't
roast it by a hot fire all day, and smoth
er it under a heavy bed covering all night;
don't put it in a cold draught on slight
occasions, and don't nurse or pet it to
death ; don't dose it with doctor stuffs ;
and above all don't turn it into a wine
cask or chimney. Let it'be "warranted
not to smoke" from the time your man
hood takes possession.
Respect the body ; don't over:rest, or
over-love it, and never debase it, be able
to lay it down when you are done with it,
a well-worn but not misused thing. Mean
time, treat it at least as well as you would
your pet horse or hound, and my word
for it, though it will not jump to China,
at a bound, you'll find it a most excellent
thing to have, especially in the country.
—Hearth mid Halite.
• LATE REMORSE.—Have you ever stood
by the grave of one dear to you, and been
compelled to remember how much happier
you might have made that life which has
now passed beyond your reach? Has the
hasty or unkind word come back to you,
and repeated itself over and over till you
would' gladly have given a year of your
own life to recall it and make it as if it
had never been? Let us remember that
those svho are now living may socn be
dead, .and beware of adding to the things
done that ought not to have been done the
things undone that ought to have Leen
done. Many a heart has languished for
the tenderness withheld in life, but poured
too late in remorseful and unavailing re
gret. Let us be tender to friends while
they aro with us, nor wait till they are
dead to find out their good qualities. Let
us bring all possible sweetness, tenderness
and truthfulness into all our relations,
thus blest and being blest; let us keep
our arms high, our hearts warm our hands
ready to do good. •Sp shall we ally our
selves with heavenly legions, who will ,
fight our battles with the power of dark
ness. So shall we, amid the changes.of
our earthly lot, plant ourselves .upon the
everlasting foundations, and calmly .note
how the things of thisworld fade and pass
away, knowing that we laid up a store of
things that endure.
Everything that tends to discompose
'or agitate the mind:, whether it is excessive
sorrow, rage, fear, love or despair—in short,
whatever acts violently on our mental
fhculties, tends to injure the health.
The little canary bird can't lay its eggs
when any body, isigking at it,
aud Xnntor.
Respect for old age never had a bright,
er illustration than in the case of the young
lady who always refuses to go to the wash
tub when her mother or grandmother is
present.
An Irishman has defined nothing to be
"a footless stoeking without legs." A
deseriptiot2 by another Emeralder is bet-
ter. What is nothing?" he was asked.
"Shut your eyes and you'll see it" said Pat.
A. Bridgeport lady remained too long on
a train to kiss a female friend, and trying
to get off after it had started, was thrown
violently on her face. "If ever I kiss
anybody again!", she said, vengefully, as
she arose;" any woman, at least," she
thoughtfully added.
An old farmer said to his sons :
"Boys don't spekerlate or wait for some;
thing to turn up. You mightjust as well
go and sit on a stone in the middle of-tt
medder with a pail 'twist your legs, and
wait for a cow to baCk . up to you to be
A German peddler sold, a nattn.a liquid
for extermination of bugs. '.A.?id how
do you use it? inquired the matt - after he
had bought it. "Ketch the Nig, nu drop
von little drop into his moot," answered
the peddler. ”Pehawl" exclaimed the
.m7EFF' tld killi• half the
this fatal
pure , aser, it in half the
time' by stamping on it." "Vill," calmly
explained • the German;`ldat_is—a good—
way, too." • •
iris WIF
must be
the com
s—when—a
A negro once said in a prayer meet
frig :`redi Ni
en, when I was ' a boy I took
a hatchet ß and went into the woods. When
I found a tree that, was straight and big
and solid,, I didn't touch that tree : but
when I found one leaning a little and hol
ler inside, I soon had him dowi. SO when
the debbil goes after Christians, le don't
touch dem 'dat stand straight and true,
but dem thatlean a little and are,: holler
inside."
-NOT THE WIFE'S FAULT.--An Irish
man who had just landed, went to see his
sister, who' was married to . a Yankee.
The couple lived very happily together,
and when Pat came, the
. gentleman took
him over his place to show it to him. Par,
at the evidence of .prosperity, said to his
brother-in•law :
"Begorra, you are very happy here,
with this fine property to live on; me sis
ter had, good luck, intirely, so she had,
in getting you for a husband." •
' l3l "Ah, yes," responded the married man
we would be very happy but fOr onething.
"And what's that?" asked Pat.
"Ah Pat," returned the gentleman,
"I am sorry to say that we have no chil
dren."
"No children!" exclaimed Pat; thin
Begone, it's not me sister Maggie's fault,
for she had two before she left Ireland,
and that's the rayson pie father sent her
to America."
TEACEIER-"WhO was the first man?"
Head Scholar—"Washiugton: he was first
in war, first in—" Teacher— "No, no,
Adam was the first man." Head Scholar—
"o, if you're speakiog foreigners, I s'pose •
he was."
BILL ARP ON THE Cmsts.—Munny to
be healthy must be skattered around so
that everybody can git sum. 'When it's
most all piled up in a few pyramids the
least jostile will tumble it to the ground,
If I was King I'd fix a remedy for bloa
ted fortunes mity quick. I'd tax a man
nuthin on an incum of 5 thousan dollars
and under. I'd tax 10 per ct. on
all be
tween 5 and ten thousand; twenty per ct.
on all between 10 and 20 thousan, and
so on,,doublin up to 50 thousan. Above
that I'd take it all, every dollar. tell
you that will get em. That will keep
down these Wall street rings. I will let
a man have enuff for all decent and re
spectable purposes, and after that he must
do his sheer for, theta who swet and • toil
and havent.been as smart or as mean or
as lucky as himself. It will put a limit,
upon a man's avarice and keep tnunny
iu better employment than paying $5O,
000 for a horse or or 100 thousan for a
diamond pin. - ,
Code of Farm Rules.
I'. Take good newspapers and—read
them.
2. Keep regular accounts Mall your
farm. operations.
3. Perform
. every operation in. the .
proper season.
4. Perform every operation in the' ,
best manner.
T). Complete every, part of the opera
tion as you procewl. „
6. Finish one job before you begin
another.
Clean every tool when 'you leaveZff
8. , Have a. place for everything and
return things to their places when •done
using them. ,
9. Repair your buildings, tools, fences
and all elk, the moment they require
it.
10.. Be humane to all dumb animals.
11" , 'Give your stock , good shelter in
winter, and none but good food it
,all
•
times.
12. Don't keep a lot of snarling dogs
and tribes of ..cats about the .premi
ses.
13. Don't bay anything you . do .not
require, because it is . cheap—particularly
at auction sales.
14. Don't refuse to•make•correct ex
periments M•a small. way of many now
things.
15. Attend to little things—drops of
water make the occaii:
16 Attend to your ; own private basi
nem—den% meddle in that Plothers.
'Lastly, marry a good woman if you
haven't one already.
$2,00 PER YEAR:
NUMBER 26: