,BY W, VOLUME- 27. TIRE. VILLAGE RECORD, TILETRBDAY N.OI[NLNO 13-y I.ER.IIS—Two Dollars per Annum , if paid within the , year; Two, Dollars and Fifty cents after th expiration of the year. .ADVERTISEMENTS -- One Square (10 lines) three insertions, $1,50 ; for each insertion; Thir ve' Cents per Square: ,' A liberal discount made to yearly adver tisers. LOCALS.—Brisiness Local 11 Ten Centsper • line for the first, insertion, Seven Cen for subsenuentinsertion. professiong DR. M. L. • PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, Offers his professional services to the ,citizens of Quincy and vicinity. Office near -the Burger Hotel. apr9-tf ISAAC N. SNIVELY. ,PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, ' IVAY.N.ESBORO' Office at his residence, nearly opposite he 'Bowden -House. Nov 2—tf. 4,705_UP13 DOT,T h -I_,A.S, ATTORNEY AT LAW. • WAYNESBORO'. PA. _;Practices in the several_Courts of_Franklin and adjacent Counties. N. B.—Re itl Estat© leased mul sold, and ,F,irelnsurflifice frected on reasonable terms. 'December, ,1871. VETERINARY SURGEON. R. HENRY BOWLS (formerly of Vir ill..4htia) 'announces to the citizens of Waynesboro' and the pUblic generally that !.te; , .s,prepared to treat the different diseas ,es to which horsesee subject, including i lock-jaw. Thorough study and many years practice are the best recommendations he ;caul offer. Persons requiring his services will find him at Minter's Ho may2l tf • sT R -c ..r4- • • 4' EIYSICIAN & sacra Offi'e at his residence, N. E. Cor. of the Public Square, IVaynesbero', Pa. apr 9-tf REMOVAL. I 11IL BENJ. FRANTZ has removed to the new Office building, adjoining his dwell ing on West end of Main street, where he can always be found, when not engaged on professional visits. OFFICE floras :—Between Sand 10 o'clock, A. M., and 12 and land 6 and 9 P. M. Spec ial attention given to all foams of chronic disease. An eKperience of nearly thirty , years enables him to give satisfaction. The most approved trusses applied and adjusted to suit the wants of those afflicted with her .niti or rimture. ahr 23-tf A. K. lIRANISIIyLTS; RESIDENT DENTIST iii' v ALSO AGENT Yor the Best and most Popular Organs in Use ,Organs always on exhibition and for sale ,nt his office. We being acquainted with Dr. Branis hollesocially and professionally recommend him to all desiring the services of a Dentist. Drs. E. A. Him NO, J. N.. llieei.E, " A. H. :STRICKLER, J. N. SNIVELY, " A. S. BONEUUAKE, T. D. FUENCII. julyl7—tf - - - • .7. EL FORNEY & CO. rroduce ccanalfBsion lliarahants No. 77 NORTH STREET; BA LTIMORE, MD. Pay particular attention to the sale of pour, Grain, Seeds, &c. Liberal advancej mace on consignments. may 21-ti THE BOWDE ROUSE MAIN STREET, WAYNESBORO', PENN'A. rrtrE subser;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 ethers who may be pleased Co favor him with their 'patronage. An attentive ;Kistler will at all times be in attendance. May 23-tf .SANPL P. STONE:it. LIVERY ! LIVERY ! frIIE subscriber informs the public that I he has opened a new Livery Stable, on Vest Main Street, at the Sander:s' stable.— Speedy horses and first. y.lass convey ances furnished at all times. An attentive 'hostler will alWays be found at. the stable. A share of the public's patronage is respect fully solicited. JOILN S. FUNK. ju1y.3.0 tf , 'TAILORING. rritE subscriber announces to hi; old ens ' torners and the public that lie has again taken up his residence in Waynesboro' and ,will be pleased to receive a share of public patronage. His place of business is on Lei tersburgstreet, nearly opposite Pot tery. " JOS. ANDEII,I".ON. may I—tf _DAIRY I jHE subscriber notifies the public that 11/3 has commenced the Dairy busiriess and will supply citizens regularly every morning with Milk or Cream at low rates. He will also leave a supply at M. Geiser's Store where persons can obtain either at a ny hour during the day. • nov 27-tf IVATER Crackers, ginger smalls, and 1 fancy uraclzer3 urocery ';iltE gill) ROCKS THE CRIDLE MIES ilig ifORLD." Dear woman, in the dream of life, Adorned with every winning art ; As mother, daughter, eister, Wife, She melts the soul, she charms the heart Without her, what were lordly man? A rainless cloud -11 fruitless tree— . A world without a sun—a plan That ever incomplete must be. her fost'ring care, devotion, love, Seem inpirations from above. In.childhood's hour, beside her chair She calls the Pagile form ; She clasps herliny hands in prayer, Safe sheltered from the storm. Yet man, ungrateful man, the dart Of falsehood hurls with skill i And when he's won a woman's heart • lie seeks its love to kill. Her lot is to be tried; though pure, To sigh, to suffer; and endure. Oh, mothers of a race unborn, 'Tis yours to speak those grand decrees That herald in the promised morn, Ye are the molds of heralds strong ' Who guard and glorify our isles; The seas in song shall roll along Bengath the splendor of your smiles, The beautiful and good shall reign, And sinless Eden bloom again. MR. MERTON'S LESSON. "I cannot wait any longer. I must have my money, and if you cannot pay I must foreclose the mortgage and sell the place," said Mr. Merton. "In that case," said Mr. Bishop, "it will of coarse be sold at a great sacrifice, and after all the struggles I have made,. my family will again be homeless. It is hard. I. only wish you had to earn your money as I do mine, you might then know some thing of the hard life of a poor man. If you could only in imagination put your self in-my "pia* I think you would have a little mercy on me." "It is useless talkin g ; I extended this one year, and I cannot do so any longer," re plied Mr. Merton, as he turned to his desk and continued writing. The ioor man rose from his seat and walked out of Mr. Merton's office ; his ,tigt hope gone. He had just recovered from a fit of illness, which had used up the means with which he had intended to make the last payment on his house.— True, that gentleman had waited one year when he had -Wed to met the demand, owiug to illness in the family, and he had felt very much obliged to him for doing so. This year he had been laid up for several months, during which he could earn nothin g , and all his savings were then needed for the support of himself and family. Again he had failed, and now he would again be homeless, and have to begin the world anew. Had Heaven fbrsaken him and given him over to the tender mercies of the wicked? After he bad left tho.office, gr. Merton could not drive away from his thmights that remark to which the poor man iu his grief had given utterance: "I wish you had to earn your money as I do mine.: In the midst of a row of figures, "Put yourself in my place" intruded. Once after it had crossed his mind he laid down his pen saying : "Wel!, I think I should find it rather hard. I have a mind to drop in there this afternoon and see how it litres with his family ; that man has aroused my curiosity." About five o'clock he put on a gray wig and some old, east off eol hes, walked to the residence of Mr. Bishop and knocked at the door. Mrs. Bishop, a pale, weary looking woman, opened it ; the poor old man requested permissim n to enter and rfst awhile, sayil g he was very tired with his long journey, for he had willked ma ny miles that day.. Mrs. Bishop cordially invited bim in, and gave him the best seat the room af forded, She then began to make prepar tions for tea. The old gentleman watch ed her attentively. Ile saw there was no elasticity in her step, no hope in het move meats • and pity for her began to steal in to his heart. When her husband entered, her features relaxed into a. smile, and she forced a cheerfulness into her manner.— The traveler noted it 011; and he felt himself forced to admire this woman who could assume a cheerfulness she did not feel for her husband's sake. After the ta blf. was prepared, there :vas nothing up DENS. FEICK g. cleft pserg. DRIED-APPLE PIES. I loatka!,abbor ! detest !,despise Abominate I dried-apple pies; I like good bread, I like good meat, Or anything that's good to eat ; But of all poor grub beneath the skies, The poorest is dried-apple pies, Give me the tooth-ache or sore eyes In preference to such kind of pies. The farmer takes his \ gnarliest fruit, 'Tis wormy, hitter, and hard to boot ; They leave the hulls to make us cough' And don't take half the peeling off; Then on a dirty cord thßy're strung, And from some chamber window hung; And there they servo a roost for flies, Until they're ready to make pies. TreAd on my corns, or tell me lies, lint don't pass me dried-apple pies geading. A PANILT‘NEWSPAPEIt-wDEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS.. ETD. WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PAC, THURSDAY, ,DECEMBER 31, 1874. on but bread, butter and "tea. They invited' the stranger to cat with them, say ing : "We have not got much to offer you,' but a cup of tea will refresh you after_j ,youg journey He accepted their hospitality, and as they discussed the frugal meal, he lead them without seeming to do so, to talk of their own affairs. "I bought this piece of land," said Mr. Bishop. "at a very low price, and" instead of waiting as I ought to have done, until had saved the money, to build, I thought I would borrow two hundred dollars. The interest on the money would not be near ly so much as the rent 'I was paying. I did not think there would be any difficul ty in paying back the borrowed. money.— But the first year my wife and one of my children were ill, and the expenses left me witnout the means to pay the debt.— Mr. Merton agreed to wait another year, if I would pay the interest. I did that. 'This year I was for seven months unable to work at my trade and earn anything; and of course when pay day comes around and this is very soon, I. shall again be un able to meet the demand." "But," said the stranger, "will not Mr. Merton again wait you another year if you make all circumstances known to him ?" "No, sir," replied Mr. Bishop, "I saw Mtn this morning, and he said he must have the money, and should be obliged to foreclose the mortgage." "He must be very hard-hearted," repli ed-the-traveler.--- "Not necessarily so," said Mr. Bishop. "The fact is, these rich men know nothing of the struggles of the poor., They are just like ,the rest .of mankind, and I am sure if they but bad the faintest idea of what the poor have topass through their hearts and their purses would open. You know tt has passed into a Avert), "When a poor man needs assistance, he should apply to the poor." . The reason is obvi ous. The poor only know the curse of poverty. They know how heavily it falls, crushing the spirit _out of a man ; and to use utzr favorite expression, they can at once put themselves in the unfortunate one's place aud•appreciate his difficulties. and are therefore always ready to render assistance as far as they are able; and if Mr. Merton bad the least idea of what I and my family had to pass through, I think hp would be willing to wait several years for his money, rather than distress tti.". • With what emotion the stranger listen ed may be imagined. A new world was being opened to him. He was passing through an experience that had never been his before. Shortly after the con clusion of the meal. he rose to take his leave, thanking Mr. and Mrs. Bishop for their kind hospitality. They invited him to stay all night, telling him he was wel come to what they had. He thanked them and said. "I will tres pass on your kindness no longer. I think I can reach the next village before dark, and be .so much the further on my jour ney. Mr. Merton did not sleep much that night, Ho layed awake thinkin g . He had received a new revelation. The poor had always been associated in his mind with stupidity and ignorance, and the first poor family he had visited he had found far in advance, in intelligent sympathy and real politeness, of the exquisite and fashionable butterflies of the day. The next day a boy called at the cot tage and left a package ia a large blue envelope, addressed to Mr. Bishop. Mrs. Bishop was very much alarmed when she took it ; for large blue envelopes were associated in her mind with law and lawyers, and she thought that it boded no good. She'put it away until her bus bapd came home from his work, when she handed it to him. Ile opened it in silence, read its con tents, and saidfrequently, "Thank Heav en!" "What is it, John?" inquire4 . hils anal ous wife. "Good news," replied John ; "suelLnews that I had never hoped for, or even . dreamed of." "\Vhat is it—what is it? Tell me quick —I want to hear if it is anything good." "Mr. Merton has canceled the mort gage, released me from debt, both inter est and principal, and says any time I need further assistance, if I will let him know I shall have it." "I am so glad, it puts now life in me," said the now happy wife. "But what can have come over Mr. Merton?" "I do not know. It seems strange af ter the way he talked to me yesterday morning. I will go right over to his of fice and toll him how happy ho has made us.,, He found Mr. Merton in his office apd expressed his gratitude in glowing terms, "I followed your suggestion," replied Mr. Merton, "and put myself in your place. I expect it' would surprise you very much to learn that the strange trav eler to whom you showed so much kind nes.s yesterday was myself:" Indeedl" exclaimed Mr. Bishop, "can that be true! ll9w did yoti disguise your self so well ?" "I was not so much disguised after all, but you could not very well associate Mr, Merton, the lawyer, with a poor wayfar ing man—ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Mer ton. "Well, it is a good joke," said Mr. Bish op; "good in more senses than one. It has terminated very pleasantly for me." I Was surprised," said Mr. Merton, "at the broad and liberal views you expressed of men and their actions generally. I suppsed I had greatly the ' advantage o ver you in means, education and culture; yet bow cramped and narrow-minded have beep my views beside yours I • that wife of yours is an estimable woman, and that boy of yours will be an honor to any man. I tell.-yo Mr. Bish4," said the lawyer. becoming animated, "you are rich —rich beyond what money can make you: You—have_treasurealthat—gold — will -not buy. I tell you, pia owe me no thanks. Somehow, I seem to have lived Tears since yesterday morning, I have got into a new world. What I learned at your house is worth more than you owti;iite, and I . am your debtor yet. Hereafter, I shall take as my motto : 'rut 'yourself in my place,' and try to regulate my actions by it." The Tombstone Agent. Gibbs is a tombstone agent. He Suds it to his advantage to-work 'upon the feel ings in many a sale. The other day he happened to be in - a strange section, and was sent to call upon. a Mrs. Brown, who had lately lost, her husband. He intro duced himself, and was invited to sit down; he spoke of the weather, and then getting around to business, said, rather tenderly : "So you have lost your husband?" She wept, and said that it had that resemb lance. Ho said he sympathized with her in the hour.of her affliction ; that the best of friends' were doomed to part, and but few knew say snore whose turn would be next. He had not the honor of being acquaint-, ed with Mr. Brown,• but he had heard him spoken of all over the country in the highest terms of praise (this was his usu al style whether he had or not); every body considered him au honorable, man. and an affectionate husband, and they -mourned-his -loss -with -the-most tender-af fection and he deserved a fitting memo ry; tad as it was the last sad rite she could do; he begged her to look over some excellent monumental designs in Italian Saud American marble, which he was pre pared to sell at the lowest terms:. ; - Said she, "Lookee here, mister, you said he wc..? qn honorable man and an affec tionate husband; when yon know'you lie; he wasn't no such thing. It's true I've lost him, but he ain't dead ; ho ain't the kind that dies. He ran off last Wednes day with another woman, and doesn't need a tombstone, I'm sorry to say ; and I'd be much obleeged to you if you'd light out and not come back here again until you have occasion, mister . ..o He faded away from there, and stayed' in the neighbor hood two ays, endeavoring to cultivate an acquaintance with the man who sent him there, AN OLD STORM RETOLD.—"Iiafe you gnt some of dot kjnd of oysters what hafe been shpiled y" "Spiled oysters ? Yes, we have a few cans left from last week that I think will suit you." "How you solt 'ew a down ?" "Oh, I'll sell 'et right; you may have all you want for a dime." "Veil, den, mine goot frent, vill you be so kind as to pring me four dozen of dot damaged lot." The oysters were brought, and the cus tomer put' them quietly down, and then 'said to the restaurateur: "Now, my very kind frent, you hafe got some good oysters, ain'd 40" "You're mighty right, I have." "Veil, I takes a half - dozen raw, und some pickles." These were in turn served, and quickly put down on.top of those gone before. But the restaurateur was troubled, and when the patron camp to settle the bill, said to him: ' "Look here, Fiord, I don't like to be too inquisitive, but Mowed_ if I wouldn't like to know why you took a toady to se many spiled oysters and so few good ones." "Veil, I told you. Now, I hafe got a tape-worm and efery time dot is the way I hafe to do. You see, dot last half doz• en was for miueself, but dot damaged - lot wos for do tape-worm. You know I aind't dot 'kind of a Commodore Vauderpilt that I can afford it to preak up mine whole peezness to feed a tam tape worm on goot oysters." INDIVIDUAL WORK.—John B. Gough has not ceased saying good things, This is among his last; 'I cannot help thinking, that if there was a little individual work, a little more moral courage in the world to save men, the world .gyould 'not ho so much of a Wreck as it is to-day. If you saw that a friend, a brother, was taking a wrong course, what would you do ? Would you merely - say : Dear, dear, dear 1 how painful' it is that so many men are going wrong. Just as sure as he moth - toes that course he is a lost man •, but ho will go ; dear, dear, dear!" And when you hear the despairing cry coming up from the depths, add : "I told you so I" Now what should you do? Should you not lay your hand on Asi o and• say: "My friend you are going' wrong!" l'irhat - if ho swears at you ? Never mind ; save him if you can, Many a man has not got so far from your sympathy but that one word, kindly said in his ear, "My friend you are going wrong," will check him. The difficulty is that we let men go so far from oaf ,sympathy that we can not reach them.,.. ` low it is this individu al Work that I/believe is to reform the world, and bring it back to God," PureANl . ft water is the:best of all blood purifiers- It dissolves,almost every im purity that may find its way into the blood and passes off through "'theskin, lungs and kidneys, thus washing out the blood without any irritation iu Owing through the system, and without those chemical changes and deposits which are likely to arise from the action of the drugs- Why then use doubtful dangerous, and often injurious drugs for purifying the blood, when pure, simple, safe, pleasant and far more effectual water moy be had without money and without price. Those whom the people dislike live to a (rood old an.e. • Jos)" BZLUNOS ON RATs.,—Ritts Cu in friim liorwa,y and i wish they had orkinally staid there. - Tliey - are about az - uncalled for az a pain in the small of the back. • They can be domestikated direful eazy ; that iz, az far az getting into cubboard, and man.' cheese and kuawing pie ez con cerned. - The best _wny to domestikate them i ev saw, id to surround them gently with a steel trap ; you can reason with . them to great advantage. Rats are migratorious, they migratly whatever they have a mind to. Plzen is also good for rats ; -it often softens their whole moral nature. Cats hate rats, and rats hate cats, ant —who'dou't .'suppose there is between 50 and 60 millions of rats in America (i quote en tirely from memory,),and i don't suppose thare iz a.single necessary rat in the whole lot. This shows at a glance how =Ay waste rats thare iz runnin around. Rats inhance in number faster than shoe pegs do by. machinery. One pair ov healty rats iz all that a man wants to start the rut business with, and in ninety Rases, without eny outlay lie will have rats" to turn oph. Rats viewed , from cony platform yu can build, are unspeakably cussed and i would be willing tew• , make enny man who could destroy awl the rats in the United States, a valuable keep sake, say fur instance, either the life and sufferings of Andy Johnson, in one volume_calLbound,_or a receipt to cure the blind staggers. DANGER FROM EATING NUTS.—As this is the season for drinking and eating nuts it may not be amiss to give a hint which may be useful. Medical men advised that salt should be taken with nuts, especially when they are eaten.at night. One time, says a writer, while enjoying a visit from an Englishman, hickory nuts were serv ed in the evening, When my English' friend called for salt, stating that he knew of a case of a- woman eating heartily of nuts in the evening who was taken' violently ill. The celerated Dr. Abernethy was sent for, but it was after ho had become too fond of his cup, and lie was in no con dition to go. He muttered "Salt! Salt!" of which no notice was taken. Next morn ing he went to the, place and she was a corpse. He said had they given her salt it 'would have relieved her and if they would allow him to make au examination he would convince them. On opening the stomach the nuts were found in a mass.— He sprinkled salt on this and it immedi ately dissolved. I have known of a sud den deitth myself which appeared to have been from the same cause. I generally eat salt with nuts, and I consider that it improves them. CURED HER.—An old man up in Con nedicut, had a poor, cranky'bit of a wife, who regularly once a week got up in the night and invited the family to see her die. She gave away her things, spoke her last words, made ber peace with heav en, and then at about eight she got up in ,the usual way and disappointed every !hodir by going at her household duties as if nothing had happened. The old man got sick of it finally, and went out and got a coffin, a real nice cashmere shroud, a wreath of immortelles with "Farewell, Mary Ann" worked in, and a handful of silver-plated screws. Layiog the screw• driver beside the collection, he invited her to just holler die once more. "Do it," said he, "and in you go, and this farekrell business is over.' Mary Ann is at this moment baking buckwheat cakes for a large and admiring family, while they dry apples iu the coffin in the garret. Labor.—lt is a mistake to suppose that labor is an unpleasant condition of life. It is a matter of experience that.there is more contentment in attending to kind of occupation than there is in look ing for some occupation. Attend, there fore, to your business, and regard' your business as being 'worthy of all your at tention. Workingmen are apt to -donsidor that their 'occupations alone are laborious but in that matter they are mistaken.-- Labor of mind is generally even more fa tiguing than physical labor. It is errone ous to suppose that others do not work as well as we do, simply because their work is different from ours. Laboris the earth ly condition of man, and until the nature of man is changed, the want of something to do will produce all the horrors of en nui. Gambling and other reprehensible dissipations are all owing to the fact that human nature cannot support a state of '