Terms of Publication.
T«E TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pub
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The Agitator is the Official Paper of the Conn
tv with a large and steadUy increasing circulation
reaching* into nearly every neighborhood in the
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the limits, but whose most convenient postoffice may
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Business Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper m
chjded, $4 per year. '
A STRANGE STORY.
In ihe year 1854, while residing in Boslon,
1 became acquainted with George Brayboeuf,
a young English gentleman, then travelling
in this country. He was of an eminently
insular nature, and possessed all (he reserve
and stiffness so characteristic of our cousin,
John Bull; and out first intercourse seemed
unlikely to result in anything like intimacy.
His bluff, phlegmatic ways were little assimi
lated to the mercurial temperament of a
young American, nor did we have many
things in common, fn his veins ran some of
the best blood of England. He was rich,
and as I said before, bad all the hauteur of
his race ; while I was a student in the office
of the eminent jurist, the late Judge Gray,
wiih little else to depend upon for a livelihood
than the labor of my brains in articles for
the weekly, newspapers. Brayboeuf had
brought letters of introduction to Judge Gray,
who had shown him the usual minor atten
tion of dinner-invitations, and the like; and
had introduced him to me, with Ihe request
that I would show him the liuns of the town
and its environs; which attention I performed
rather as a task than otherwise, for I did not
then possess a very warm regard for our
transatlantic relatives. I had shown him all
the objects of historical interest about Boston,
with a malicious pleasure, however, as there
is nothing about them very flattering to BrR
tish pride. He viewed everything after the
manner of the race, with a calm stolidity ; I
taking care to enlarge upon the victories of
America, and the reverse of British arms,
endeavoring to provoke him out of his na
tional reserve; but to no purpose; I could
not vex him into any warmth of expression,
and I was fairly disgusted with him. Ono
afternoon, having exhausted most of the ob
jects of interest about Boslon, I proposed a
sail down the harbor. He readily assented,
and we drove down to Long Wharf, and en
gaged one of Mahan’s boats. Hoisting the
sail, we stood down the bay as far as Fort
Independence ; I, of course, descanting upon
the wonderful strength of the structure, for
the benefit of my companion, and pronounc
ing it Impregnable, at the same lime inqui
ring if the English had any such fortifica
tions : to which he replied that he though
not: the ono «.Gibraller perhaps approach
ed it as nearly as any in strength. I winced
a little at this home-thrust.; but rallied
enough to say that I believed Gibraltar was
designed by an American engineer; to which
veritable remark he deigned no reply, but
proposed we should land and examine the
post more closely. This we did, spending
perhaps an hal(-h ur; when, as we were re
turning on board, Brayboeufs fool slipped,
and be fell into the water; the tide was run
ning rapidly,and 1 knew he could not swim;
but being Tolerably expert in the art myself,
I plunged in, and after some little trouble
succeded in saving him. On being brought
to the shore, he simply said, “Thank you,
Castlemaine,” in so indifferent a tone, as if 1
had just passed him the salt, that I fell half
a mind to throw him in again. But from
that time his manner toward me changed,
and I could see pulsating beneath his English
surface a warm heart; and as I knew him
better, I became much attached to him.
Shortly after this, as we were sitting in his
room at the “Albion,’ 1 looking out upon the
Bay—one of the Cunard steamers coming in,
a tram just going, shrieking and pulling, ouj;
i over the Eastern Railroad, its long streamer
of smoke trailing behind it, and curling grace
fully up over the Maverick hills; the whole
city instinct with life and motion—l said:—
‘■George! suppose Dr. Franklin could have
had the wish gratified that he expressed upon
seeing a fly taken from a bottle of old wine
become revivified, and crawl about the table ;
and, as he desired, when he had seen the end
of the Revolution, and the firm establishment
of our government, had been placed in a
puncheon of New England rum, and could
come to life again, and look upon this, his
native village, this afternoon, wouldn't he
stare 1”
Suddenly the whole manner of Brayboeuf
changed. He seemed to fairly emerge from
his English shell into a different being. So
complete was his transformation, that I said :
“Why, my boy, what is the matter? You
seem so much interested in my vety original
remark, that one would think you were the
lighming-calching philosopher, himself.”
Said he: “Castlemaine! lam going to
tell you a story, so strange that it passes
Belief; one which I never breathed since
its events transpired : I can hardly expect
you to give it credence, I can only tell it to
you.”
“You know la m an officer in Her Majes
ty s Coldstream Guards : we are quartered,
tt hen in London, in the Tower ; that is, our
tnessroom is there, and the officers of the day
remain there during the night. On the twenty
second of May, 1851, Harry Lacy and I
were doing “guard duty.” Dinner was over,
ne other officers had gone nod left Harry
and me to solitude alone in the Tower. We
it our segars, and began conversation, which
urped naturally enough upon the building in
which we were; its wonderful history, the
eeds of blood its grim walls had witnessed.
it, 8 80 en B a ged in the conversation, and
6 oaken walls were lit up by the coal-fire
:a, tn , ln B ,' n 'be grate (we had not lighted can
thai I W BUc b weird end fanciful shapes,
ihe V< t W * l seeme d as 'f I could trace upon
t cemn 8> among its carvings, childish
• i l6B '''aialt grim shadows were smotber
fl | D j mufdere d kings struggling with
in „ assaBs ms. -Out of the gloom seated
fio,. *r , nM J* sl y 'be dignified and grave
the .S>«h Henry ; while behind him
, * u b sinister face, and drawn dag
fo ’ t l e Thi ' d Richard. From before the
f ed orrel w.pdow? seemed to stretch s
( -
THE AGITATOR.
SefcoteS to tfce intension of tfce mveu of Jfm&om anir t&e of ©ealt&g ilefotm.
WHILE ThEBE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIOBTED, AND UNTIL “ Man’s INUD-MANITV TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
VOL. IV.
black-draped scaffold, and upon it a line of
weeping queens bowed their heads to the
block. Distinct among them was the sad
face of the mournful Anne Boleyn, measur
ing with whire and jewelled fingers her slen
der neck, and smiling upon her masked exe
cutioner. All these I thought of, and many
more things, while Lacy was rattling away,
till he suddenly asked, “George! did you
ever see the place where (he young princes
were buried under the Tower stairs?” I
said : “No!” Said he, “It is just the dis
mal place you would imagine: let’s go and
see it I” Being in the humor to “sup full of
horrors,” 1 acceeded to his proposal, and,
lighting our guard-lantern, we left the apart
ment. The glimmering light fell strangely
upon the low and narrow passage by which
we proceeded, and our shadows upon the wall
seemed to take the shapes of men in armor,
whUe every puff of wind wailing through the
crannies and loop-holes of Ihe massive walls,
seemed to, rise into a sigh or a groan. We
descended the great stone staircase, and un
der its huge arches of solid masonry, looked
upon the spot where were laid “those twin
roses on a single stalk,” as Shakespeare
calls them—the infant Princes of England,
smothered by command of Richard the Third.
We viewed the place mournfully for a mo
ment and turned to retrace our steps, when
a fancy seized us to extend our exploration,
and beneath an arch, and through an oaken
door, studded thick with massive nails, we
passed on into the Tower vaults. Through
apartment we groped along, now stumbling
against a fragment of rusty chain which,
fastened to a ring bolt had dragged out a life
worse than death, deprived of air and sun
light, in these living tombs, until our way
ended in what seemed a sort of lumber
room ; in it were stored pieces of rusty and
broken armor, shattered spears, huge battle
axes, broad-swords, and'maces, that in their
strange and terrible shapes seemed to bring
back the days of the Crusades, and the
strong arms that had wielded, and the strong
hearts that had prompted, the blows of these
weapons of another age. At Ihe extremity
of ihe apartments lay upon its side a huge
cask or butt of an antique and singular shape,
something like the casks in which Bordeux
brandy is imported, but longer, and with
more swell to the bilge or middle of the cask.
It had strange old fashioned fastenings to its
hoops, which were of the willojiy of the South
of France. Approaching it, and striking
upon it lightly with our fingers, we discovered
that it was filled with same sort of liquid.
Harry shouted, making the damp walls re
sound strangely with the echoes of his merry
voice. “Huzza ! a prize ! who knows but
it is wine, rare old Burgundy, and may serve
yet to enliven many a dinner for the Cold
streams ? This is a good night’s work for
the mess, if we can only manage to have it
quietly bottled off down here, and taken
to the wine-cellar we’ll taste it at all
events!”
“By the light of our lantern, scraping
away the gathered mould of years, we dis
covered the bung of the cask, covered with
sheet lead, and sealed in yellow wax, as
nearly as we could make out by the dim
light, with the broad seal of England ; we
scraped'it away, crumbling beneath our
fingers.
“And now,” said Harry, “how to start the
bung ? Oh I I have it! I’ve seen the coop,
ers do it in the docksand drawing his
sword, for we had not removed our side
arms at dinner, he said “God grant it may
never shed more generous blood than that
of the grape!” and struck violently upon the
staves.
At the second or third blow, the willow
hoops, weakened with age, gave way, and
the oaken slaves fell in, while the blood red
wine, gushing out in torrents, deluged us
completely. As soon as I could recover my
breath, for the surprise and laughter, I said,
“Well, Harry 1 a pretty mess we are in,and
all our clothes at our lodgings;” when on
looking at the debris ol the cask, we saw
lying the body of a man dressed in the cos
tume of the fifteenth century, and with fea
tures as placid and fresh as if in a quiet
sleep. We both started back in surprise and
terror, and it was some momcnis before we
recovered ourselves sufficiently to examine
still farther the body. The garments though
now soaked and stained to a deep crimson
hue, seemed of rich fabric, and were adorned
with gold lace and jewels, which untarnished
by the wine shone in strange contrast to the
sanguine lint of the cloth upon which they
were embroidered; by his side ' was a dia
mond-hilted sword, and upon his finger a
massive ruby ring, upon which, as I looked,
I made out lhe well known crest of the Dukes
of Clarence. By George! Castlemaine, the
whole thing flashed upon me in an instant.
Who else could it be but George Duke ol
Clarence, drowned in a butt of Malmsey, in
1483, by his brother, Richard the Third !
I said as much to Harry, and for a few min
utes we cogitated upon our best course to
pursue. Leaving the body there was out of
the question, and roaming about the vaults
and crypts of the Tower might be thought a
rather serious matter by the Colonel of our
regiment; so. finally we concluded all wo
could do, would be to remove the body to the
mess room, dispose it quietly and decently,
and in the morning take Colonel Harcourth’s
advice in the matter. Accordingly I sup
ported the head and shoulders while Lacy
preceded me, carrying the lantern and bear
ing the feet, and we crept along toward the
roeae room ; arriving there not without diffi
culty, for the body was that of a stalwart
man, we laid it upon the rug before the grate,
while we spread a cloak upon a couch, which
we prepared for its reception: these prepara
tions occupied some moments, and while
WELLSBORO., TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. FEBRUARY 25, 1858.
about them I fancied I heard a gasp, but sup
posed it was'only fancy, until on returning to
remove the body, and stooping to lift the
shoulders, I felt upon my hand the faintest
possible breath. I looked again, and the
chest heaved with the faint and struggling
motion of a dying child. I rushed to the
side board, and pouring out a glass of brandy,
while I raised the head, held it to the lips, to
which color had come ; as I turned the glass,
with a gasp, a portion of its contents was
swallowed. Lacy and I immediately set at
work, rubbing the' hands and chafing the
temples; respiration grew more regular,
color came to the face, and as I felt anx
iously the artery of the wrist,T felt the pulse
coming with a thread-like beat. We con
tinued our exertions with increasing success;
finally the eyes unclosed, and looked wildly
around. I held the brandy again to the lips,
and he spoke, gasping out: “Richard I
Richard ! I am thy brother, and by thee I
die!”
, He gazed anxiously around the room seem
ing to take in writh the eyes you-would imag
ine a man would look upon another world,
its contents. Around, hung pictures of Brit
ish victories : Waterloo, Gibralter, the Nile,
Trafalgar, all won during his long sleep.—
Just over his head, in companion niches,
stood busts of Nelson and Wellington; at
the end of the room was a portrait of her
Majesty in her coronation robes; upon all
these he looked with wondering eyes, till, en
deavoring to speak he fell back in my arms,
with a rattle in his throat, and all efforts to
rouse him proved unavailing. He was dead !
O Castlemaine! if he could have lived!
Lacy and I laid him mournfully upon the
couch, and I passed to the window. Over
the masses of rolling clouds was coming the
pomp of May day down, spires of gorgeous
red shooting athwart the murky gloom of the
flying nighi like the banners of an advancing
army ; and as I looked, the sun rose in full
beauty, and his beams fell upon the roof of
the Crystal Palace, illumining its pinnacles
end turrets with unearthly beamy, as it stood,
the glorious monument of the progress of the
ages, glittering like a vast diamond in the
sunlight within Hyde Park. Upon my ear
fell the sound of the morning gun, and from
the peak of your ship “Nightingale” lying
in the Thames, ran up the Stars and Stripes:
the gun was echoed by one from your frigate,
the “St. Lawrence,” as her ensign floated on
the morning breeze. All the panorama told
of the present ; and as f turned to the silent,
clay cold figure of a past age, that had
tottered so strangely for an instant at the
open door of the present, before falling back
again into its long sleep, 1 felt that I would
have willingly laid down my own life, could
George Duke of Clarence have looked for
one hour with me upon the prospect from
that Tower-window. As I turned and spoke
to Harry, there were tears in his eyes; and
as we looked upon the body, as it lay there
in quiet dignity, we felt an awe for the re
mains of such august mortality that revolted
at the impertinent curiosity its strange dis
covery must excite; and so mournfully and
heavily bearing it away, we deposited it be
neath the flag stones of the vault from which
it had been taken and have since, until to
day, never spoken of this strange episode in
our idle talk save to one another.
“I wonder where this world will turn up?”
said old uncle Solomon, as he threw a fresh
backlog on the kitchen fire. When I was
young folks didn’t spend their precious time
in studying dancing and music; they used
to learn to read, write and spell. There’s
our David, he thinks he is going to make
smart women of his girls, so he sends them
to boarding school ten months out of the
year, and keeps them drumming the piany
the other two. Yesterday I asked Maria—
she’s almost woman grown—how she'd spell
coffee, and as sure as my name is Solomon
Tubbs, she spell it thus; Kaffe.
“Is that the way you spell at school, Ma
ria,” says I.
“Oh, 1 don’t spell at school, grandpa, I’m
too big. It’s only the little girls who are in
the spelling class.”
She told the truth if ever a girl did. She’s
too big to learn common things, and that’s
just the case with all young folks now a days.
“Well, Maria,” says I again, “can you tell
me where the Mississippi river is?”
She pretended to think desperately for a
minute or so and then said :
“Really, grandpa, I have forgotten wheth
er it is in Europe or-England. lam reading
Caesar now grandpa.”
“Oh, learning to read are you?” Well I
am real glad to hear it.”
She laughed outright. What a funny
grandpa you are ! Caesar is Latin, didn’t
you know that
“Latin is it ? says I. Well, Maria, if you
are studying the big studies that ministers
and lawyers and doctors know—you go right
home and tell your father how you spell cof
fee, and where the Mississippi river is and
ask him if that is the way he was brought
up.”
She started home and I haint seen or heard
from her since. Now David is sure his girls
will be smart women, and they will be smart
in their line, very smart. They’ll know how
to work their toes, in a dance, tbeir tongues
on Latin and French, but when it comes to
working their brains on common things, the
poor girls will need all the pity sensible grand
pas and grand mammas can give them.
An exchange notices the marriage of Miss
Anna Braham, a,daughter of the great vocal
ist, and adds: “We congratulate (he.bride
groom upon ( his privilege, of.reposiiig evep
on earth, upon A. Braham’s bpspm,, ,
modern Female Education.
Hrs, Snow’s Literary Husband.
Yes, Pro Mrs. Peter Snow, an editor’s wife.
I well remember the day when Mr. Snow
asked me to become his. -T confess I liked
Mr. Snow,, and thinking it would be a very
fine thing to be the wife of an editor, I said
“Yes" os pretty as I knew how, and became
Mrs. Snow.
I have seen ten yearsof married life, and
find my husband to be an amiable, good na
lured man. He always spends his evenings
at home, and is in that respect a very model
man, but he always brings' with him a pile
of exchanges, which are 1 limited only by the
length of bis arm r and reads while I patch
the knees and elbows of our boy’s pantaloons.
After we have had a Quaker meeting of an
hour’s length I break the silence by asking,
“Mr. Snow, did you order the coal I spoke
to you about?”
“What do you say, my dear?” lie asks af
ter a few momenta’ silence. . ,
“Did you order that cost I spoke to-you
about ?”
“Indeed, my dear, I’m very sorry, but I
forgot all about it. It shall come 10-raor-,
row.”
Another hour's silence, which is relieved
by the baby’s crying, and rather liking to
hear a noise of some sort, I made no effort to
quiet him.
“My dear,” said Mr. Snow, after he bad
cried a minute or so, “Hadn’t you better give
the baby some catnip tea to quiet him. He
troubles me.”
The baby is still, and another hour passes
without a breath of noise. Becoming tired
of silence, I take a lamp and retire for the
night, leaving Mr. S. so engaged wiih his pa
pers that he does not even see me leave the
room.
Towards midnight he comes to bed, and
just as he has fallen asleep the baby lakes a
notion to cry again. I rise as quietly as pos
sible, and try to still him. While lam walk
ing the room with the small Snow in my
arms, our next —a boy of three years—be
gins to scream at the top of his lungs. What
can Ido ? There is no other course but to
call Mr. Snow, so I call out, “Mr. Snow !
Mr. Snow !”
The second time he starts up and replies
“What, Tim—more copy !”
As though I was Tim—that’little devil
running about his office! I reply, rather
tartly :
“No, I don’t want any more copy—l’ve
had enough of that to last my lifetime; I
want you to see what Tommy is crying
pboul.”
Mr, Snow makes a desperate effort to rouse
himself; as Tommy stops to lake breath he
falls asleep again, leaving me pacing the
room in as much vexation as I can comfort
ably contain.
The next morning at breakfast, when I
give Mr. Snow an account of my last night’s
adventure, he replies, “indeed, my dear, I am
sorry!” but should the very same thing occur
the subsequent night, directly before his eyes,
very likely he would not see or know any
thing about it, unless it happened to interrupt
the train of his ideas. Then he would pro
pose catnip tea ; but before 1 can get it into
the infant’s stomach he will be far away in
the realms of thought, leaving me not a little
vexed at his apparent stupidity.
Mr. Snow knows the name of every paper
published in England, France and Germany ;
but he can’t for the life of him tell the names
of his own children. He knows the age
of every American journal, but he does not
know the age of his own baby. He knows
just how every one of his contributors look,
but I don’t believe ha can tell whether my
eyes are black or blue.
The world says Mr. Snow is getting rich.
All I know about it is, he gives me money to
clothe and feed our boys, and that too with
out a complaint of poverty. 1 hope the world
is right in opinion ; and when I am fully sat
isfied that it is, I shall advise him to resign
his editorial honors, and spend a few months
in becoming acquainted with his wife and
children. The little ones will feel much Hal
tered at making the acquaintance of so liter
ary a gentleman.
How Daniel Saved a Quarter. —With-
in a stone’s-throw of my fathers’s house in
old Ashtabula, lived a queer old Puritan,
yclept Deacon Daniel 8., a worthy roan and
a Christian (as the times went) although his
style of worship was peculiar to himself, and
unlike anything laid down in the books.—
The Deacon never missed a prayer-meeting,
conference or, anything of that sort, .when
there might be an opportunity for him to lift
up his stentorian voice in hymn or exhorta
tion. In storm or sunshine, the Deacon was
always at his post. At a protracted meeting
held in the middle of the township, (the old
chap being present as usual) the good people
were much scandalized to find that a menage
rie had encamped in the same neighborhood,
and was drawing “big audiences” from the
worshipers, and among the delinquents seve
ral members of the Deacon’s family.
Amid the general lamentation of the saints,
the Deacon arose and confronted them as fol
lows :
“Brethren, you must have faith I There
is Abraham, he had faith—got a knife out to
kill his.son Isaac with—but the Lord didn’t
dew it. And there is my namesake Daniel,
he had faith too. They cast him into the
lion’s den, but the lions never touched him—
and (here he sot all night and looked at (he
show for nothing—didn’t cost him a cent,
either.”
The Deacon’s voice became inaudible and
he subsided.
Virtue is no security in this world. What
can be more upright than pump logs and edi
tors ? Yet both are destined to be bored.
©ommunCcattontf,
Nelson, Feb. ,15, 1856
Mr. Editor : As the column# of the Agi
tator are open "for goose qofll castigations”
as was said, please accept a few steel pen
castigations from the old sober town, Nelson,
on the same subject; or the use; of intoxica
ting drinks. {
Commencing with the era oif the Maine
Liquor Law, propagated by (he Hon. Neal
Dow down to the year eighteen hundred and
fifty six, there has been a great amount of
good done, a great amount of labor lost, and
a great amount of money expended for this
reform. When this cause as-il were, had al
most gained the ascendency, apd gladdened
the hearts of thousands of wjdows and or
phans, then by the interposition* of judges—
men who were skilled in the municipal taws,
it was buried in utter oblivion; (dr a lime.—
We, as a nation, when a foreign foe invadps
our soil, are ready at a moment’s warning to
repel that invasion. Scarce an {'argument is
necessary to arouse the highest feeling for
liberty. It is then that our legislatures act
and adopt proper measures to;’ protect our
lives, our liberty and, our sacred honor; it
is then that our judges and best men of talent
suggest the best methods of procedure.—
These are the natural consequences in con
templation of war. These were the conse
quences (hat arose in conlemnlation of the
revolutionary war. After the great struggle
of seven years with the grealjJtphn ..Bull was
ended, and we had settled quietly upon our
farms we began to believe thiatiour struggle
with him and his ancestors were forever at
an end. But, sir, our rights have been inva
ded. King Alcohol (the great, [calf of John
Bull) has introduced himself attidng us. You
can see him pawing, kicking; and tearing
around in almost every village [up and down
the Cowanesque. A greater [usurper of the
rights of mao never invaded ptir land. He
is swallowing up thirty thousand fellow mor
tals annually in the United States. We hum
ble ourselves beneath his angry look, and
willingly submit to his ravages; [his muiders,
and his midnight revels. He 'goes through
our land filling our asylums and mad-houses
with the wrecks of the most [noble minds of
our country ; visits the widow (n her palace
of peace and happiness, perhaps through the
medium of a son to whom she is looking for
support; tears down the doors-of dwellings
and leaves the inmates exposed to the cold
blasts of winter; snatches Ihbllast morsel of
bread from the famishing children ; wrings
with a willing hand the last affectionate hope
—no more to be kindled—no! more to' buoy
up her sad spirit—no more toi let her virtue
shine ns nature formed it; aridltlien deprive
her of the last source of appeal for the re
dress of her grievances. In vain sheenlreats
the wretched monster to slay his guilty hand.
In vain she exhibits the tearfuj e|ye and with
ered form, but is scourged and; njocked bv the
accursed foe. Why are these petitions slight
ed ? Why are they with con
tempt 7 Is this liberty whichj we boast of so
great? Is this just? s Reader,fl leave this
for you to answer. ! j
Oh ! cowards that we are ; [tor boast of our
courage and liberty, over all the kings of the
earth, and dare not lift our voice against king
Alcohol! Dare not rescue our own children
from the huge monster’s ruin! 1 . Dai% not
tear down the strong hold of the enemy and
expel him from the land! Arelwe afraid to
secure a tract of land from Mexico / No !
our bosoms could brave the ball or bayonet
of the enemy, j 1
But when the King (Alcohol) of- terror reigns.
The mighty are afraid; !. j
They bow beneath hie galling chains
And dare not lift theii heads. ! 1
Sons of Temperance I We hall upon you
to rebuild your temples of fame and goodness,
and fight the good fight You have
fought bravely, and won laurels which will
be handed down to posterity.! [Where is the
equality of a law that will charter one man
to deal out poison to another, or let one man
deal out death and desolation to a thousand,
and let the deslrojer go unpunished. Let
the Mr. Rumsellers of this andi other vicini
ties reflect, and casl’one candidilhought upon
the subject. Let them remember that many
of those, who are in the habit oif taking their
daily drams, have families as] dear as the
bonds of nature can make them, who are
suffering for the want of food tfnd necessary
clothing. When this is done, and not till then
(if men’s hearts are not as hard as steel) will
our villages hold out belter inducements for
settlers than they now do. If tie are wrong,
please inform us. I i -. B.
A French engineer was traveling upon an
old Ohio steamboat. He observed to the
Captain : I j
“But, this engine is in.very jpoor condition."
“Thai’s so,” was the reply. ' •
“And how long do you expect to run it?”
“Till it bursts,” was the cool reply.
After the next landing place {here was one
Frenchman less on board that boat.
“I love to look upon a young man. There
is a hidden potency concealed within his
breast which charms and pains' me.”
The daughter of a clergyman happening
the above sentence at the close of a
piece of her father’s manuscript, as ho had
left his study, sat down and adjded :
“Them’s my sentiments, 'exactly, papa—
all but the pains.” ! j
“Call that a kind man !,” said an actor,
speaking of an absent acquaintance—“a man
who is away from his family,!and never sends
them a farthing! call that kindness ?” “Un
remitting kindness,” Douglas Jerrold chuck
led. ■' ‘ >
Can a man driving a wagon full of clocks,
be said to be in advance of lims ?
i-
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square. The following rates will be charged lor
Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—
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Posters, Handbills, Bill,and Letter Heads,and all
kinds of Jobbing donp in country establishments,
executed neatly and promptly. Justices’, Consta
bles’ and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and
printed to order.
NO. XXX.
■ Henry Ward Beecher, in his nervous style,
thus shows how much more powerful a com
mercial panic now affecis the world than a
war does :
“A bank explodes in Ohio; Iben a line ot
banks give way in Pennsylvania. It shook
the continent more, than all (he canonade of
Sevastopol. Next, the banks of New York
suspended. AIT business stopped. Society
was tremulous from top to bottom. The lid
ings ate borne across the ocean. That won
derlul Island, whose top narrow, but whose
base is broad as the whole earth, began to
quiver, and that silent brought her
down quicker than an axe brings the ox !
War could not make her plumes quiver ; but
Commerce, by a look cast upon the ground.
And it stands apparent to the world, by the
giealest demonstration, that Commerce has
supplanled War, and is its master. The
General’s sword, the Marshal’s truncheon,
the King’s crown, are not the strongest things.
The world’s strength lies in the million bands
of producers and exchanges. Power has
shifted. No matter who reigns—the Mer
chapl rules. No mailer what the form of
government is, ihe power of ihe world is in
ihe hands of ihe people. The King’s hand
is weaker than the Bankers. War cannot
convulse the world—Capital can.
These are undoubted evidences of ibe ad
vance of ibe world in irue civilization. With
in the last len years ibe most extraordinary
wars and revolutions have taken place on the
globe. Once such a combination and move
ment as we have but lately beheld, would
have affected the whole globe with terror. —
Since the French Emperor pm his bloody
fool upon the steps of the throne, there have
been set on foot the most wide spread combi,
nations of governments, the most prodigious
armies and navies, such as turn the historic
Armada into a mere affair of-yachts. Once
the globe would have trembled to the foot
steps of such an unparalleled war ! So much
did the spirit of the past dwell in military
things, that a hundred or two hundred years
ago, such a thing would have drawn with it
the world’s nerve and blood, and vitality.—
But now all West Europe rose up, and the
world did not tremble. All Russia gathered
together, and the Orient did not feel it. And
the pounding of war in that gigantic conflict
disturbed the world as little as a thrasher’s
frail upon the barn-floor disturbed the firm
earth beneath it. Not even the nations that
carried such battle in their hands thought it
heavy. Great Britain took but her left hand.
Not a wheel stopped in her manuffclories.—
Not an acre less was tilled in France and the
world upon this side read the account simply
as news. It produced no more effect than
the last serial story that drags its long and
tedious tail through cheap and studied maga
zines.
The “Sands of Life” Run Out.
Dr. Hall of (he Journal of Health„ who
has investigated the matter and analyzed the
dings.finds that the mixture for which Old
Sands of Life charges two dollars when made
from the very purest and most expensive ma
terials used, costs exactly sixteen-cents—bot
tle and all. And he furthermore charges as
do many others, that it is a deleterious article
at best. The following ftom the Gleaner is
a very severe rap :
Messers. Editors —Permit me through
your columns to bear testimony to a valuable
medicine. My great aunt has been s'riving
to reach heaven for twenty years. Having
a cough, she finally fell into the hands of the
“retired physician,” whose “sands of life have
neatly run out.” She purchased a bottle of
his Cannabis Indica, from which she gained
strength, judging from the violence of her
cough. On taking the second bottle her
strength so increased that she was able to
cough day and night without interruption ;
the third bottle landed her in heaven. - Thus
in a brief space of time, the fond hopes and
anticipations of more than a quarter of a cen
tury are realized for the sum of seven dollars
twelve and a half cents.
In view of this and other facts that are al
most daily coming to light, it is no more than
an act of justice to that pious, conscientious,
old, “retired physician, ’’ whose sands of life
continue to run from him, to recommend his
wonderful medicines to all who are afflicted
with cougfjp, colds, asthma, brown creafures,
loneliness Of the gall, bladder, inflammation
of the florix, refusal of the kidneys to res
pond to the jerks of the raucous membrane,
vacant feelings in the head, die. To thoso
persons who are desirous of changing worlds,
or changing husbands and wives, and all who
are anxious to visit t’other side of Jordan,
(his medicine is confidently recommended.
To those persons who take a lively interest
in natural history, 1 would advise' them to
throw themselves into the arms of the “re
tired physician,” and they may be assured
they will see the elephant and rhinoceros.
A farmer who recently had his butter seized
by the clerk of the market for short weight,
gave as a reason that the cow from which
the butler was made was subject to ihe cramp,
and that caused the buiter to shrink in weight.
“I don’t like to patronize this line,” said a
culprit to a hangman. *
“Oh never mind this once,” was ihe reply,
“it will soon suspend its operations.”
Thirsty Traveler—“My dear, can I pro
cure a glass of milk here?”
Little Girl—“No, thir, thith ith a temper,
anth houth.”
Never confide in a young roan j new pails
leak.
Never tell your secret to Ihe aged; old
cfoors sfcMcm shui closely.
Rates of Advertising.
3 months. 8 months. 12 mo’s
Commerce Is King,