.. . . . . . . , m0rr,r...................„.......,. . , . . . . . - ___.. ...... . .. / . . ... . . . .... . . .. - ~' , , __..,_.: ....,..‘ .. .... „Jam 5,..• .. . , • :. -.k : . r.--1 a .. g . t ,11,„. tf..1•,-,tb; , . . . . . . ~. ~., . ~ ~ . . . . . . . .. .r r 0 ' • - ii . . , . , ) . . . .. IBY W. BLUR. VOLUME 26. flea utrg. ttn APART. • :Beneath the qUaint old bridge you hear ___The,wavearnake_zausic_as.they_pas • • .And winding to the elm tree near, Yon see the pathway through the grass Where We were want to walk, alasl The river wanders asof old • Beneath , the shades of widow trees; The sunlight waters gleam like gold, And ripple in the gentle breeze ;. But I ath.farkom thee Mid thesel 'The sky bends comer broad and blue, • And, in the soft and mellow light, You tread the lane our footstePs knew In forner days, when days were bright; Doihese,days.bring such sweet delight? And still that lane with. grasSis green ; With fragrant:flowers the banks are.fair ; In golden•gloss and silver sheen The bees still :daunt the balmy air; But you will 4.111 to.find me there. ' Agsiin,•perehance, rinay not see The rustling rows of willow trees (Which-lent-tOettfy-ennopy— - When we strolled underneath at ease:;) For I am far from thee and these! , Our joys forsake os. Soon floes spring Pass by for the summer call:; :Soon do the birds lose heart to sing, When - fading leaves in autumn-fall;,- And winter is,the end of all. atlisullaneous 3rading. The Way to Rise. When Hannibal Hamlin was installed As Collector at Boston, he found, as col lectors had found in all times betbre him ' :an avalanche of applications for office in the Custom House. The hardest thing for Han. Hamlin to do is to say "No" to a friend—a genial, fun-loving, big-heart .ed man, he is never so well contented as when able to make all happy and con tented about• him—and when he found ,scores of applications for every place he had to give, ho was excessively fretted. One day, John Pullman, a quiet, unob trusive young man, with a bang-up re .commendation, and who had done his :share of work at ,primary political meet ings, ventured to call upon the Collector to know if his application for an office .could not be favorably considered. He vas a good accountant, a ready penman, .cleared-headed in business,And numerous responsible men had vouched for his hon.. • .or and integrity. "The only place possibly ,vacant," said the Collector, "is not a first-class ()flea—, If you thought that worth your . accept.' :ante, I might give it to you. . Pullman thankfully nodded, and signi-' lied that he would Accept. "But," said Hamlin, with a comical' Ler, "I don't like to be making frequent .cbanges. If you take this place, do you thin k . you will stick ?" "If the duty is .within the 'scope of my .ability—yes, sir." Hamlin wrote the oft repeated note to the store-keeper, and flip youth took it And went his way. Now John Pullman had expected a .clerkship worth at least twelve hundred .dollars -per annum, and he was not a lit tle taken aback when he discovered that ,he had only been appointed a "Light 'Weight Mover," at a salary of seven-hun -Aired and fifty dollars. In.short his posi tion was among those unkempt sons of toil who trundle barrows, and are yclep .ed "laborers." But John Pullman '.was net to be so onsily. mashed Out.:-.He'scratched his head and meditated. lielittw'the,point at once. "Has this place lieen tendered to any body_ before?" he staked. "Yes," answered the Colonel. "A doz en, at least, have looked at it, and let it .drop within two weeks." "Very well," said Pullman, shutting his mouth hard, we'll see ! I told the Collec tor I'd stick, and I will. He wont get rid of me in that way. "Then you'll go to work ?" ~ye , ./ • The Colonel liked the young man's grit, .and was inclined to favor hint ; yet J ohn Pullman pulled off his coat of broadcloth .and went at work. He took a barrow, and made a turn mound the store-room. During the remainder of that day he made himself generally useful., and on the following morning he Was at his post in due season. At the expiration of about a mouth, as Jack Pullman stood at the window of the office of the Delivery Clerk, he saw the Collector coming across the street, from the Custom House. "Good morning, Mr. Hamlin." Hamlin stopped and beheld a young man in his shirt sleeves, with a barrow, and on the barrow a bale of goods; and the young man was nodding and smiling in a friendly, cheerful way. Han. Hamlin never forgets a face, nor is he apt to forget a name which he has once heard. .He recognized the youth, and smiled back. "Pullman is this you ?" "Yes, sir," said the light 'weight mov er, dropping the barrow, and taking the Collector's extended hand. "You didn't expect to finch' mehere ?" "Well—no—l hardly thought you would stick." "But I have, sir ; and I hope, if I stick .3ong enough, I may take root and grow,'' Hamlin laughed heartily, and a ,fen; elements later he was in close conflab with the store-keeper. 'That was on Wednesday. On 'the fol lowing Monday morning John Pullman received a note from the Collector inform ing him that he had 'been appoirited to a responsible and important clerkship. 'The Widow's Son. In a ?little brown, one-story, wooden .house, nestled among the trees at the foot of a hill, lived the Widow Wood. She ive. alraloue, save Wattle oy, I , er only child, Johnny. Her husband was a poor, bard-working man, who had con trived to pay for their little home,having.. one cow, and kept hie garden in good 'or der, when he was suddenly : removed by death. Johnny was too young to remem ber his father, and his •neighbors lived at a distance, and so he and his widowed inotlier_weranlLin_alLto_eachother.=-_ The school-house was far off, toe, but as soon as his little legs had got long enough, Johnny was_found at school.— Early in the morning, washed and comb ed, he would kiss his mother for a long day, with his little dinnei basket hung on his arm, while she, charging him to be "a good boy," would turn back to her lonely home, to spin or to weave, or to do something by which to earn a pittance toward their support. Sometimes she would go out to meet him toward night when she thought it time for him to come home, and then, hand in hand, little - ohnny-Would-tell-his-yqs-and--sorrows,- how the boys called him a `babyil and.`a "milksop,' because he stoutly defended' his:mother, and then how Miss Pierson praised him as her model little boy.' don't think they ought to laugh at us if we are poor, do you mother?' 'Why, no, not if we does well as am can:' 'And it's no disgrace to eat rye pies, is it mother?' `Cartainly net, if we cannot afford to have wheat.' "They throw and pull me around, they do, because•l am little and feeble. I. can't fight them ; but I tell you what, mother, I'll grow, and I'll be a good scholar, and be it doctor or a lawyer, and then we will live in a big house, and you shall dress like a lady,and I'll have good clothes, and we'll eat wheat, and see if they will laugh any more!' `Well, Johnny, you be a good boy, and learn to love your books, and I will do all I can fir you. The widow wiped a tear silently from her face, and felt that this little confiding boy was dearer to her than all the wealth is the world. So she silently toiled and denied her self everything possible,. and kept her child at school. When he had learned all they could teach him in the little red school- house,she sent hiin to an academy. He was the poorest boy in the school,and poorest dressed and fed. People wonder ed why Widow Wood should 'kill herself with work, just to keep that great boy at school.' They said, 'he had better be earning something for his mother.' But the widow kept silent, and toiled on. At length the time came when Johnny was ready to go to college. Could she ever meet the expense? She had earned and saved something every year by her loom,, in view of this possibility. After he had entered college, she milk ed and drove her own cow to pastare,cut her own wood all winter, and one day in the week, sometimes two, went out wash ing. Soon it began to be whispered around that 'the widow's boy was doing well;' and then 'that he was a fine scholar, and the day he graduated, the first scholar in his class, the poor mother took his arm after the exercises of the day were over, and with tears and smiles walked with .him through the streets of the city, the happiest mother in all that city. A few years after, she saw him taking a commanding position in his profession —one of the most honored and distingu ished men in our country. She did see him in his elegant house, surrounded by a great library, and a most gifted family of children, and she did live with him, and lean upon him as a strong staff, but I am not sure that she was really hap pier than when chopping .at the ,wood pile, that she might save a little to help her boy through college. They are both dead now; but Ilnew him well, and his invaluable writings are now on my table before me. Such is the simple but trite story of 'The Widow's Son.'—Rev. John Todd., D. D. HOW TO Rise IN THE WORLD. —ln 1855 a young gentleman registered his name in the largest hotel in the city of Louisville, Kentucky. Ho had a pretty good wardrnbe,sueh as young men usually have, including a gold watch' and chain. He was in search of an occupation. At the expiration of two weeks he took an inventory of his personal effects: "Out of money and no business." He had a brief interview with the proprietor of the hotel. His trunk of clothing was left as security for his board bill ; he hypothec ated his watch for the loan of ten dollars, and having kissed the tip ends of his choral fingers to a kind and sympathetic landlord, he 'went diving for the bottom.' He found 'bottom' on Water street,where a steainer was being discharged of cotton by Dutchmen, negroes, and yankees.— Having purchased a heavy pair of boots, a blue shirt and overalls, he commenced rolling and piling cotton at the rate of five cents per bale. In three weeks he was promoted to the position of 'marker' with a salary of $45 per month, and at the expiration of nine mouths he had a right to grow mellow over a salary of $125 per month. To-day this gentleman is one of the largest business operators in Bay street. No moral need be given.— The story speaks its own. ';kis vs • 1 I DI, :7, >II" 2 C WA.YNESBORO, FRANKM t'OUNTY, PA., THURSDAY., JUNE 11, 1874. Provestbs of 'Sbakspeare. . There is no virtue like necessity. Courage mounteth with occasion. ale tires betimes, that,epurs too fastrbe• dimes. Small showers last s laug, but sudden steins are short. With cager .feeding, food doth choke (the feeder. Though death be poor, it ends a motel woe. . - The ri est fruit falls first. , Out of this nettle danger we pluck the sower safety. No word like 'pardon,' for kings mouths so meet. Tell truth and shame the devil. Uneasy lies the head that wears a Crown. A tem can die but once, we owe God a death. The first bringer of unwelcome mews _bath_but a losing office. Grief is proud and makes his owner stoop. When law, can do no . ri, lawful that lays b /awful t at law bar no wrong. • Oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done. - Most any subject is the fattest for soil to weeds. Wise hearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of an other; therefore let men take heed of their -company :. _ _ - How ill—white hairs become a fool and ester. There is some sou/ of goodness in things evil, would men observing distil it out. Nice customs caresey to great kings. A crafty knave does need no broker. Thrice is he armed that has his quarrel *ust. It is a great sin to swear unto a sin, but greater sin to keep a sinful oath: The thief cloth fear each bush an offi cer. The bird that bath been limed in a bush,, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush. Small herbs have grace, great weeds.do grow apace. Two may keep counsel, putting one a way. What must be shall be. He that is robbed, not. wanting what is stolen, let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all. They laugh that win. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prow unkind. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear. Who covers faults, at last with shame derides. Anger bath a license. Love reasons without reason. You cannot make gross sins look clear. To revenge is no valor, but to bear. He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer. . The learned pate ducks to the golden fool. When beggars die there are no comets seen. Cowards die teeny times before their deaths;- the valiant never taste of death laut once. As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity. The evil that men do, lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones. Some that smile have in their hearts millions of mischief. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith. There's beggary in the love that can be reCkon ed. Every time serves for the matter that is then born in it. Some innocents escape not the thun derbolt. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp than with an old one dying. He that will have a cake out of the wheat, must needs tarry the grinding. In the reproof of chance lies the true proof of men. 'Tis mad idolatry to make the service greater than the God. The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. He that is proud eats up himself. Fear makes devils of cherubim. To fear the worst oft cares the worst. To be wise and love exceeds man's might. Perseverance keeps honor bright. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. Those wounds heal ill that men do wive themselves. The end crowns all. Thanks, to men of noble minds, is honorable meed. The raven cloth not hatch a lark. Few love to hear the sins they love to act. 'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to , kiss. Home-keeping,youths have ever home ly wits. They do not love that do not show their love. Trutivhath better deeds than words to grace it. Timid is the nurse and breeder .of all good. Use loth breed a habit in a man. Sometimes we are devils to ourselves GOLDEN SALVE RECIPE.--Two quarts raw linseed oil, three pounds beeswax.— Melt thoroughly together and turn into tin boxes. This is the best salve known for burns, scalds, flesh wounds, old sores, piles, ect. To make small quantities the same proportion as above is required. Knowledge is a comfortable and neces sary retreat and shelter for us in an ad vanced age; audit* we do not plant it while young, it will give us no shade when we grow old. - BY SOUTECEY. They tin who tell us Love avn die, With life all other passions fly ; All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell. Earthly these passions of low earth, They perish where they have their birth; But:loveds indestructible, Its holy•flame forever burneth : -From-Heaven-ittameitalleaverrreturneth Too often earth a troubled guest, At times•deceived, at times opprest ; It here is tried ant purified, .And hath in Heaven its perfect rest: It soweth here with toil and care, • But the harvest time of Love is there. Oh! when a mother meets on high The babe she lost in infancy, Bath she not then for all her fears, FTIR. -- da — y — dfwW . the watchffliNnight, For all her sorrows, all her tears, Aig overpayment of delight ? uiet Lor the Where Does Water Come From. ht, let it be Row natural for a child, standing by the banks of a river, to inquire where all the ;water comes from? To inquire why grass is green.? what makes it grow ? luAv is it that birds can fly ? why fishes are not drowned in the sea? or where all the sand comes from they see on the shore? They will ask also,where the rain or snow owes_fronaLwlat-is-thunder_? what--ar.: elouds2 or is it that the=grass _ is=so. wet , with--dew ?---Thousands of questions like these are asked by thoughtful chil dren, and what-parent would not wish to be able to give them satisfactory answers. But to answer these questions satisfactorily requires a knowledge of natural phenom ena, and the causes producing them. If any one of whom the.child asked, while standing by a river's bank, "Where does all the water come from ?" were to take him to his home, however humble, and show him the vapor rising from the water boiling for tea, and ask him to put a cool plate or glass in the path of the vapor for a few* moments, end then look at it and notice the drops of water condensed upon it, and make him understand that these drops were formed by the vapor. Then explain to him that a great part of' the earth was covered with water from which vapor was always rising, and that, when it rose into the utmost regions of the air, it was condensed into drops of water, just as the vapor had been by the cold plate, and that when thus condensed it fell in rain. That a great part of this rain inn on the surface of the ground, forming little streams and brooks, which were gradually joined by others, till those united streams formed rivers which by the ceaseless flow, which has ]ed to his question, gave back to the ocean the wa ters which had been raised from them in vapor by the heat of the sun, just as the vapor had been raised from the water boiling for tea, by the heat of the fire.— What 'child would readily forget such a lesson ?' Or what child, constantly so re plied to, could fail to grow up an intelli gent observer of all the natural vvents oc curring around him. Maxims for Working Men. A good advertisement for a'working man is a seat in church. The savings bank is a safe debtor. Fifty cents for a good lecture is better than half that sum for a circus. . Dress neatly. A well clothed . man commands favor and respect, while one in slovenly attire can hardly borrow his neighbor's saw horse. If you wish to porsonallji6compsehe.nd the completest meaning of the old adage ••-a fool and his money are soon parted —buy a lottery ticket. Never sacrifice money for What people will say: It is better to buy a fair piece of beef for fifteen cents a pound and leave the sirloin for some other man,who would buy year kind except for tfie name. Be honest; a stove cold is better than a stove hot with stolen fuel. .The laboring man holds the same rela tion ,to the merchant, manufacturer, at torney, physician, and minister, that the locomotive does to ( !). tmin of elegant and well filled cars; they would stand still forever if the engine did not move them. There is many an bonest,hard working poor man, who rises himself and calls his family before sunrise, three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. In nine cases out of ten,when his children arrive at his age they will be called up by servants. A meerschaum pipe and bank book al ways quarrel, and the upshot of the en counter generally 'one puts the other out of doors. Work harder at drilling rocks, for in stance, if your employer never visits you than if he frequently does. Re will know of your faithfulness when he pays for The poverty of childhood is more fre quently than otherwise the stepping stone to wealth. JUSTICE AND MERCY-NO obligation cf justice does force a man to be cruel or to use the sharpest sentence. A just man does justice to everything, and then, jibe be also wise, he knows there is a doubt of mercy and compassion due to the in firmaties of man's nature,; and that it is to be paid, and he that is cruel and un gentle to a single ,person.' and does the worst to him dies in his debt and is un just. pity and forbearance, and long suf ferinz and fair interpretation, and excus ing our brother, and talking in the best sense, and passing the gentlest sentence, are as certainly our duty, and owing to every duty that does offend and can re pent, as calling to account can bo owing to the law, and are first to be paid, and he that does not is an unjust person. ' The Land of Palestine Palestine sits in sackcloth and .ashes. Over it broods the spell of a curse that has withered its .fields and fettered its en ergies. Where Sodom and Gomorrah rear ed their doomes and towers, that solemn .sea now floods the plain, in whose .bitter waters no living thing exists—over .whose waveless surface the blistering air hangs Motionless and .dead—about whose bor ders nothing grows but weeds and scatter ed tufts of eaneargLthat treacherous_ fruit that promises refreshment to parch ing lips, but turns to ashes at the touch. Nazareth is forlorn. About the ford of Jordan, where the hosts of.lsrael mitered the Promised Land with songs of rejoic ing, one finds only a squalid.camp of fan tastic Bedouins of the desert; Jericho, the accursed, lies a mouldering ruin to day, even as Joshua's miracle left it more, than three thousand years ago ; Bethle -hem-and-Bethany-inAheir-poverty-and- their humiliation, . have nothing about theta now to remind one that they once knew the high honor of the Saviour's presence ; the hallowed, spot where the shepherds watched their flocks,and where the_angel's sang "Peace on earth, good will to men," is untenanted by any liv ing creature, and unblessed by 'any fett. ture that is pleasant to the eye. Renown ed Jerusalem itself, the stateliest name iu history, has lost all its ancient grandeur, and is become a- pauper village; the rich. es of Solomon are no longer there to cont +the aclintration of orients queens; t e , Avon - derful-temple, -which was the pride and glory of Israel, is gone, and the Ot toman crescent is lifted above the spot where, on that most memorable day in the annals of the world, they reared the `holy cross. The noted Sea of Galilee, -where Roman fleets once rode at anchor i and disciples of the Savicur sailed in their ship, was long deserted by the devotees of war and com merce, and its borders are silent wilderness; Capernaum is a shapeless ruin; Margdala is the home of beggared Arabs; Bethsaida and Chorazin have vanished from the earth, and thedesert places" round about them, where thousands of men once glist ened to the Saviour's voice and ate the miraculous bread, sleep in the hush of a solitude that is inhabited only by birds of prey and 'skulking times. Palestine is desolate and unlovely. And why shotild it be' otherwise ? Can the curse of a Deity beautify a land? • Ax Otno GI/um—A Cleveland paper relates a number of anecdotes illustrative of the strength and size of Abner Mal rath, whom it dubs a giant. It appears that Mcllrath is sixty-one years of age, and is six feet seven and a half inches standing in his hoots, fairly proportioned in form, without a pound of waste flesh. Hewes and is a giant in mascular strength as well as physically. He has lifted 1,700 pounds of iron, and a blow with his mas sive fist and long arm was so powerful that on 'one occasion, when some twelve or fifteen sailors went out to his place to "raise a muss," he thrashed .the whole lot and threw them one• by - one out of the door just as one could throw so many ba bies, and during. that operation he dared not double his fist for fear his blows might prove fatal to some of the rowdies. "Abe' formerly carriedon the business of a coop er, and used to come to townNvith his load of barrels. On one occasion, while at the "Red Tavern," lately known as the "Jack son House," and which" is now torn down, a snob front town who was out there with his turnout in the shape of a livery horse and buggy, got into a difficulty with Abe, and, having insulted him in some way or another, Abe resented it by lifting the buggy right up and straddling it across the fence, and then got on his wagon and drove off to town, whistling as though nothing was the matter, and 'caving the luckless dandy to get his buggy off the fence •as best he was able. OYSTERS. GROWING ON TRESS.-A cor respondent writing of Cuba, says ; "For several years I resided in that island, and traveled there more than the ordinary run of foreigners, and have several times come across scenes which many people would consider curiosities- 7 one in partic ular. No doubt the reader will open his eyes at oysters growing on trees. Often have I seen the sneer of unbelief by the ignorant when the fact had been mention ed ; but grow they'do, and in immense quantities, especially in the southern part of the island. I have seen miles of trees, the lower stems and branches of which were literally covered with them,and ma ny a good meal have I enjoyed with very little trouble of procuring. 1 simply plac ed the branches over the fire, and, when opened, I picked them out with a fork or pointed stick. The peculiar shellfish are indigenous in-lagoons and swamps on the ooast, and as far as the tide will rise and the spray fly, will they .cling to the low er parts of the mangrove trees, sometimes four or five deep, the mangrove being one of . the very few trees that flourish in salt water.". . AmsrrroN.—That is the bravest ambi tion which is vigorous enough to overleip the little life here. The highest aspira tions seeks not fame. Whatever we can .do of good in this world, with our facul ties or our affections, rises to God as ha :inanity's going of praise. Amid the mil lion tongues ever joining to swell the holy music of that song, are those which sound loudest and grandest here,the tones which travel sweetest zindpurest up the eternal throne, which mingle in the most perfect harmony with the anthem of the angel choir! May not the most obscure life bo dignified by a lasting aspiration, and de (heated to a noble aim ? In travelling from this wor . hitothe nest the road is no wider for thqrriinee than peasant. „ryf: Made to "See It 'I can't see it,' said Buffer. 'Nobody reads all these little advertisements. it': preposterous to think it. 4 But,' said the editor, 'you read mr , at interests you?' "Yes.' 'And if there's anything that you par ticularly want you look for it?' • sCertainly.' 'Well, among the thousands _upon_ thousands 'who help to make up this busy world of ours everything that is, printed is read. Sneer as you please, I assure you that printer's ink is the true open sesame to all the business'success,' And still Buffer couldn't see it. Ho didn't believe that one-half of those little crowded advertisements were ever read. `Suppose you try the experiment,' said the editor. lust slip in an advertise _ment_of_the_want_ofone_of_the_most_com, mon things in the world. For the sake of the test .1 will give ,it two insertions free. Two will be enough ; and you, may have it jammed into any out of the way nook of my p a p e r you shall 'select: Two insertions of on ly' two lines. Will you try it?' Buffer said of course :he would try it. And he selected the plaCe where he would have it published—crowded in under the head of 'Wants.' And he waited and- saw a proof of his advertisement, which ap peared as follows : an e.— goo. ouse + og. •ppy to Buffer, 575 Towser st. between_6_ and p. m. Buffer went away smiling and nodding. On the following -morning he opened his paper, and after a deal of hunting he fbund his advertisement. At first it did not seem at all conspicuous. Certainly so insignificant a paragraph, buried .in such a wilderness of paragraphs, could not attract notice. After a time, however, it began to look more noticeable to him. The more he looked at it the plainer it grew. .Finally it glared at him from the closely printed page. But that was be cause he was the person particularly in terested. Of course it would appear con spicuous to him. But it could not be so to others. That evening Air. Buffer was just sit ing°. down to tea (Buffer was a plain, old 'fashioned man, and took tea at six) when his door bell was rung. The servant an nounced that a man was at the door with a dog to sell. 'Tell him I don't want one.' Six times Buffer was interrupted while taking tea by men with dogs to sell.— Buffer was a man who would not lie. He bad put his foot in, and he must take it out manfully. The twenty-third appli cant was a small boy with a small girl in company, who had a ragged, dirty poodle for sale. Buffer bought the poodle of the boy, and immediately presented it to the girl, and then sent them' off. To the next applicant he was able truthfully to answer—'don't want any more. I've bought one.' The stream of continued until near ten o'clock, at shich hour Buffer locked up and turned off the gas. On the following evening, as Buffer approached his house, he found a crowd assembled. He counted thirty-nine men and boys, each one of whom had a dog in tow. There were dogs of every grade, size, and color, and growl, and howl.— Buffer addressed the motly multitude, and informed them that he had purchas ed a dog. 'Then what d'yer advertise for?' And Buffer got his hat knocked over his eyes before he reached the sanctuary of his home. Never mind about the trials and tribu lations of that night. Butfer had no idea that there were so many dogs in exist ence. With the aid of three policemen he got through alive. On the next mor ning he visited his friend the editor and acknowledged the corn. The advertise ment of `wanted' was taken out, and in the most conspicuous place, and in glar ing type; he advertised that he didn't want any more dogs. And for this ad vertisement he paid. Then he went home and posted over his door—'Gone into the country: Then lie hired a special police man to guard kg property, and then he locked pp and went away with his fam ily. From—that day Josephus Buffer has never been heard to express doubts con cerning the efficacy of printer's ink ; neither has he .asked: 'Who reads ad vertisements?' THE MULLEN WEED.—The Westches ter (Pa.) News 'comes to the defence of this much abused weed, and testifies that like all other creations in nature, it has its uses : It is something of a wonder to •find :anybody saying a word in favor of this much despised weed. We have found a gentleman, however, who is willing and :ready to testify to its virtues, and who , has found in it a remedy for pulmonary consumption. He says, had commenced bleeding at the lungs,and the hectic flush was already on the cheek. After trying this remedy to my own satisfaction I have thought that true philanthropy required that•l"should let it be known to the world. • It is the common =lien, steeped strong and sweetened with coffee sugar and drank freetyleine herb should be gathered...Sfure tim"2sth of July if convenient. Young or old plants are good, if:dried in the shade and kept in dean paper bags. , —They are ten million women in Amer ica, and yet Tom. Hutton, of Georgia; hung himself on account of a girl fifteen years old, • • - Prosperity is the thing in the world we ought to trust ,the least. The nick of time—a:wrinkle. 82.00 PER YEAR. NUMBER 52, fra i u t a IT as r. Why . is grasslike.: ,ienknife?les.; - e) the spring brings on • blades. Why is a blush like a little girl? -Be-- , cause it becomes a woman. • When does the chair dislike .yon . ?— When it can't bear you. - 4 wyers—generally—sleepr-wellTib ' makes but little difference to" them which -side they lie on. It is said the prettiest girl in Harris burg is a newspaper carrier. She carries 'em in her bustle. A TOAST.—Woman : the last and best of the series—if we have her for a toast, we won't ask for any but-her. A — Maine 'woman has hair seven feet and five inches:long— too long to be avail able for use in butter. Why are the ladiestbe biggest thieves in existence? 'Because they steal their petticoats, bone their stays, crib their ba bies and hook their dressee. A. French doctor. says that a vapor bath, at a temperature of 144 degrees, on seven consecutive dayi, will cure hy drophobia. Why not boil the man at once ? Lawyer's fees—Bewing to a client, $5:: shaking hands with "him, $10; inquiring: about Lis health, $2O; saying good-bye, i $lO. Total for thirty seconds' nterview, $45. A Sunday-school scholar being asked what became of men who deceive their fellow-men, promptly exclaimed, "They go to Europe." A man may forget his business, his fa mily, and all his sacred obligations of life, but he always remembers where he got that counterfeit bill. • Another remedy has been discovered foi rheumatism in London. It is a hot sand bath. This makes 7,348 remedies—all in fallible. Irishman, being asked in.court for his certificate of marriage, showed a big scar on his head about the site of a small shovel. WHERE BID YOLT , •6ET'ZHAT CHICKEN? —"Here's your nice roast chicken ," cried an aged colored man, as' the cars . stopped At a North Carolina railway station. "Here's your nice roast chick's 'n taters, all nice and hot," holding up his plate and. , walking the platform. ' " Where did you get that chicken,uncle?" asked a passenger. Uncle looked at the intruder sharply and then turned away, crying, "Here's yer nice roast ehick'n i gentrm'n„ all hot; needn't go in de house for dat." ' "Where did you get that chicken?" re peated the inquisitive passenger. "Look-a-yer," says uncle, speaking pri vately, "Is you from de Ned?" • "Is you a friend ob de culled man?" • "I hope I am." • . , ,; "Den don't von nebber ask me were :1 1 got that chick'n agin. Here's yer nice. mast chick'n,. all." . , The train started. - . A few months since a man who called himself a conjurer entered a tavern in a country town, and asked the company as-, eembled in the bar-room if they would• like to witness one of his tricks.- The fel low looked cold, and Unary, so the land-' lord gave assent'and stated that he.knew a few tricks hiniseif, and had seen•many wonderful ones. The conjurer then re-. quested the company to place three hats upon the table, which being done, he de sired the landlord to hring.a loaf of bread,, and the stranger cut three pieces (nearly half a pound each) and placed one upon each hat. He then stated he could do the trick much more comfortably if he liact , three pieces of cheese. The cheese being brought, he cut three good-sized, pieces and 'placed one by each piece of bread. Now for the grand trick. The conjur-` er turned up.the cuff of his writ, took 'nil' his neckerchief and unbuttoned his shirt collar, and stated that he would. now pro-. teed to eat the three pieces of bread and cheese, and afterward bring allsinder one hat. He commenced the bread and cheese, and after eating two pieces, declared he could not proceed with the trick unless he had something to drink.. The landlord wishing the wonderful trick should be proceeded with for the amusement, of his customers, immediately gave the fellow a, quart of ale, and the third piece of cheese soon followed.the first two pieces. Ncw the grand trick was to be disclos ed, and the landlord and his :companions waited to see it. The'conjurer'then said : "Now., gentleman, which hat shall I • bring the bread and cheese under.?'! The landlord pointed out his own hat, wishing it to take part in the trick as ,well as his bread and cheese. It being so arranged the conjurer again said : "Gentlemen, I have eaten the bread' and cheese, and now I will Luring it tin der the landlord's hat." And he imme diately placed the hat upon his head, and, continued: "Nowsou will s perceive it :is under the hat without any deception. There were shouts of laughter from alt the company except the landlord, 'who was minus three pieces of bread and cheese and a quart of ale. The fellow left the house without mak ing a collection, he being well satisfied vrith the landlo rd's generosity. boy returning to his work afteedin-• was asked by his employer if he bade, no °tiler motion than that. "Yes," I the 'boy, "but its a slower ome." Ir.lr . I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers