Terms oxtufcllcatlon. THE TIOOA COUNTS' AQITATOE is pobfished trerj Thartd»y Morning, and mailed to subscribers t the very reasonable price of ONE DOLLAE PEE ANNUM, ItcariaMg 0> odoaftee. It ie intended to notify every jtabifriber when the term for which he hae paid shall hare expired, by the stamp— “ Time Out,” on the mar of the lest paper. Thb paper will then be stopped ®Ttil s farther remittance be received. By this ar jaogement no man can bo brought in debt to the printer* . . Tbs Agitator is the Official Paper of the County, *ith a largo and steadily increasing circulation reach into every neighborhood in the County. It is sent f„ c of pottage to any Post Office within the county bat whoso most convenient post office may be ic an adjoining County. Business Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper inclu- M * P er Yea - For the Agitator. WHAT I WOULD WISH FOR. BY ABBES. I ask not for fair Torhme’e smile, For pleasure, or for power; They ne’er can soothe our care and pain, Or gild life’s darksome hour. tfor would I ask for fame to place Its laurels on my brow,* Their leaves would lade, for even fame Beneath time’s hand must bow. The gift of beauty, though a boon For which so many yearn, For blasted hopes which once were bright Would be a poor return. Bui give to me the friendship, pure. Of one true, noble heart, Whose faith in me would still be strong; ■When life’s last hour’s depart. Upon whose breast I e’er could lean. And all my cares confide, And asking there for sympathy, I ne’er would be denied. Yes, grant this boon, and I will crave Xo brighter, happier lot; For I would then be happy, though By all the world forgot. A RACE FOR A SWEETHEART. BT SEDA SMITH, Hardly any event creates a stronger sensation in a thinly settled New England town, espe cially among the yonng folks, than the arrival of a fresh and blooming Miss, who comes to make her abode in the neighborhood. When, therefore, Squire Johnson, the only lawyer in the place, and a very respectable man, of course, told Farmer Jones one afternoon that his wife’s sister, a smart girl of eighteen, was coming in a few days to reside in the family, the news flew like wildfire through Pond village, and was the principal topic of conversation for a week.— Pond village is situated upon the margin of one of those numerous and beautiful sheets of water that gem the whole surface of New England like the bright stars in the evening sky, and re ceived its appellation to distinguish it from two or three other villages in the same town, which could not boast of a similar location. 'When Farmer Jones came in to his supper about sun set that afternoon, and took his seat at the ta ble, the eyes of the whole family were upon him, far there was a peculiar working about his mouth and a knowing glance of his eyes that always told them when he had anything interesting to communicate. But Farmer Jones’ secretiveness was large and his temperament rot the most actice, and he would probably have rolled the important secret as a sweet morsel under his tongue for a long time, had rot Mrs. Jones, who was rather of an impatient and prying, turn of mind, contrived to draw it from him. “Now, Mr. Jones,” said she as she handed him his cup of tea, “what is it you nrii.corne to say? Bo out with it; for you’ve been chaw ing something or other over la your mind ever since you came into the house.” “It’s my tobacoer, I spose,” said Mr. Jones, with another knowing glance of his eye. “Now, father, what's the use ?” said Susan ; “we all know you’ve got something or other von want to say, and why can’t you tell us What ’tis.” j "La, who cares what ’tis ?’’ said Mrs. Jones; “if it was anything worth telling, we shouldn’t have to wait for it, I dare say.” Hereupon Mrs. Jones assumed an air of the most perfect indifference, as the surest way of conquering what she was pleased to call Mr. Jones’ obstinacy, which by the way was a very improper term to apply in the case; for it was purely the working of secretiveness without the least particle of obstinacy attached to it. There was a pause of two or three minutes in the conversation, till Mr. Jones passed his cap to he filled a second time, when with a couple of preparatory hems he began to let out the secret. “We are to have a new neighbor here in a few days,” said Mr. Jones, stopping short when he had uttered this much and sipping his tea tod filling hi? mouth with-food. Mrs. Jones, who was perfect an her tactics, said not a word, but attended to the affairs of her table, as though she had not noticed what Was said. The farmer's secretiveness had at last worked itself out, and ha began again. “Squire Johnson's wife’s sister is coming here in a few days, and is going to live with ’em.” The news being thus fairly divulged, it left free scope for conversation. “Well, I wonder if she is a proud, stack up piece,” said Mrs. Jones. “I shouldn’t think she would be,” said Su san, “for there ain’t a more sociable woman the neighborhood than Mrs. Johnson. So •f she is at all like her sister I think we shall like her.” “I wonder how old she is T” said Stephen, who was just verging toward the close of his twenty-first year. “The squire called her eighteen,” said Mr. Jones, giving a wink to his wife, as much as to tS J, that’s about the right age for Stephen. “I wonder if she is handsome,” said Susan, Who was somewhat vain of her own looks, and haring been a sort of reigning belle in Pond for some time, she felt a little alarm at “ e idea of a rival. “I dare be bound she’s handsome,” said Mrs. ones, “if sho’s sister to Mrs. Johnson, for where’ll you find a handsomer woman than ” rs - Johnson, go the town through f” Jfier supper, Stephen went down to Mr. jwbinson’s store, and told the news to young “arles Robinson, and all the young fellows who were gathered there for a game at (quoits wti a ring at wrestling. And Susan went di over to Mr. Bean’s and told Patty, and ”hy went round: to the'Widow Davis’ and told & nd before nine o’clock tho matter was pretty well understood in and about every to, f ! in the village. •it the close of the fburth day, a little before wet, a chaise was seen to drive up to Squire ,1 1 on .' B door. Of course the eyes of the gap s were turned in that direction. — J Hsvis, who was just coming in from milk * l* w pail down- on tbe grass by the side road as soon as the chaise came in sight, >od It reached the Squire’s door, tone ’ 6 * gentleman and lady had got out and into the house. Patty Bean was doing up THE AGITATOR aebofetr to tfre grtcngion of rbt &xm of jFmtrom anh tijt Spveah of healths *Ufotin. traiLE THERE SHELL BE A WRONG CNNIGHTBD, AND UNTIL '‘MAN'S INHCMANITI TO MAN" SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MEET CONTINUE; VOL. V. the ironing that afternoon, and she had just taien a hot iron from the fire as the chaise passed the door, and she ran with it in her hand and stood on the door steps till the whole ceremony of alighting, greeting, and entering tho house was over. ° Old Mrs. Bean stood with her head out of the window, her iron-bowed spectacles resting upon the top of her forehead, her shriveled hand placed across her eyebrows to defend her red eyes from the rays of the setting sun, and her skinny chin protruding about three inches in advance of a couple of stubs of teeth, which her open mouth exposed fairly to view. “Seems to me they are dreadful loving,” said old Mrs. Bean, as she saw Mrs. Johnson de scend the steps and welcome her sister with a kiss. La me, if there isn't the Squire kissing her tu, said Patty; “well, I declare, I wo'd waited till I got into the house, Pll die if I wouldn't. It looks so vulgar to be kissing afore folks, and out of doors tu; I should think Squire Johnson would be ashamed of himself.” “Well, I shouldn’t,” said young John Bean, who came up at that moment, and who had passed the chaise just as the young lady alight ed from it, “I shouldn’t he ashamed to kiss sich a pretty gal as that, any how; I’d kiss her wherever X could catch her, if it was in the meetin’-honse.” “Why, is she handsome, Jack?” said Patty. “Yes, she’s got the prettiest little puckery mouth I’ve seen these six months. Her cheeks are red, and her eyes shine like new bnttons.” “Well,” replied Patty, “If she’ll only take the shine off Susan Jones when she goes to meetin’, I shan’t care.” While these observations were going on at old Mr. Bean’s, Charles Robinson and a group of young fellows with him were standing in front of Robinson’s store, a little farther down tho road, and watching the scene that was passing at Squire Johnson’s. They witnessed the whole with becoming decorum, now and then making a remark upon the fine horse and the handsome chaise, till they saw the tall Squire bend his head down and give the younglady a kiss, when they all burst out into a loud laugh. In a mo ment, being conscious that their laugh must he heard and noticed at the Squire’s, they, in order to do away the impression it must necessarily make, at once turned their heads another way, and Charles Robinson, who was quick at an expedient, knocked off the hat of the lad who was standing next to him and then they all laughed louder than before. . “Here comes Jack Bean,” said Charles, “now we- shall hear something about her- for Jack was coming by the Squire’s when she got out of the chaise. How does she look, Jack?” “Handsome as a pictur,” said Jack. “I haint seen as pretty a gal since last Thanks giving Day, when Jane Ford was here to visit Susan Jones." “Black eyes or blue ?” said Charles. “Blue,” said Jack, “but alj-fired bright." “Tall or short?” said Stephen Jones, who was rather short himself, and therefore felt a particular interest on that point. “Rather short," said Jack, “but straight and round as a young colt." “Do you know what her name is ?" said Charles. “They called her Lucy when she got out of the chaise,” said Jack, “and as Mrs. Johnson’s name was Brown before she was married, I s’pose her name must be Lucy Brown.” “Just such a name as I like,” said Charles Robinson; “Lucy Brown sounds well. Now suppose, in order to get acquainted with her, we all hands take a sail to-morrow night, about this time, on the pond, and invite her to go with us.” “Agreed,” said Stephen Jones. “Agreed," said Jack Bean. “Agreed," said all hands. The question then arose who should carry the invitation to her; and the young men being rather bashful on that score, it was finally settled that Susan Jones should bear the invita tion, and accompany her to the boat where they should all be in waiting to receive her. The next day was a very long day, at least to most of the young men of Pond village; and promptly an hour before sunset, most of them were assembled, and half a score of their sisters and female cousins, by a little stone wharf on the margin of the pond, for the pro posed sail. All the girls in the village of a suitable age, were there, except Patty Bean. She bad undergone a good deal of fidgeting and fussing-during tbe day, to prepare for the sail, but bad been disappointed. Her new bon net was not' done; and as to wearing her old flap-sided bonnet, she declared she would not, if she never went. Presently Susan Jones and Miss Lucy Brown were seen coming down the road. In a moment all was quiet, the laugh and joke were hushed, and each one put on his best looks. When they arrived, Susan, went through the ceremony of introducing Miss Brown to each of the ladles and gentlemen present. “But how in the world are you going to sail 1” said Miss Brown, “for there isn't a breath of wind ; and I don’t see any sail-boat, neither.” “Oh, the less wind we have the better, when we sail here,” said Charles Robinson, “and there is our sail-boat,” pointing to a flat-bot tomed scow-boat some twenty feet long by ten wide. “We don’t use no sails,” said Jack Bean; “sometimes, when the wind is fair, we put up a bush to help pull along a little, and when ’tisn’t we row.” The party were soon embarked on board the scow, and a couple of oars were set in motion, and they glided slowly and pleasantly over as lovely a sheet of water as ever glowed in the sunsetting ray. In one hour’s time, the whole party felt perfectly acquainted with Miss Lucy Brown. She had talked in the most lively and fascinating manner, she had told stories and sung songs. Among others, she had given Moore’s boat song with the sweetest possible effect; and by the time they returned to the landing, it would hardly be too much to say that half the young men in the party were de cidedly in love with her. \ A stern regard to truth requires acremark to be made here, not altogether favorable to Susan Jones, which is the more to be regretted, as she WEIISBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING, JULY 7, B6B: was in the main an excellent hearted girl, and highly esteemed by the whole village. It was observed that as the company grew more and more pleased with Miss Lucy Brown, Susan Jones was less animated, till at last she be came quite reserved and apparently sad.— She* however, on landing, accompanied her home to Squire Johnson’s door, and cordially bid her good night. I The casual glimpses whicfy the young men of Pond village had of Mias Brown, during the remainder of the week, as she occasionally stood at the door or looked cut at the window, or once or twice when she walked out with Su san Jones, and the fair view they had of her at meeting on the Sabbath, served but to in crease their admiration, and to render her more and more an object of attraction. She was re garded by all as a prize, and several of them were already planning whai steps it was best to take in order to win her. The two most prom inent candidates, however, for Miss Brown’s favor, were Charles Robinson and Stephen Jones. Their position and standing among the young men of the village seemed to put all others in the back ground. Charles, whose father was wealthy, had every advantage which money could procure. But Stephen, though poor, had decidedly the advantage of Charles in personal recommendation;!. He had more talent, was more sprightly and intelligent, and more pleasing in his addresk. From the eve ning of the sail on tho pond, they had both watched every movement of Miss Brown with the most intense interest; an|d, as nothing can deceive a lover, each had, with an interest no less intense, watched every movement of the other. They had ceased to speak to each other about her, and if her name was mentioned in their presence, both were ah rays observed to color. The second week after the arrival, through the influence of Squire Johnson, the district school was offered to Miss Brown, on the other side of the pond, which offer accepted, and she went immediately to table charge of it.— This announcement at first threw something of a damper upon the spirits of the young people of Pond village. But when it was understood, that the school would continue but a few weeks and being but a mile and a ialf distant, Miss Brown would come home every Saturday after noon and spend the Sabbath, jit was not very difficult to be reconciled to the temporary ar rangement. The week wore away heavily, especially to Charles Bobinson and Stephen Jones. They counted the days impatiently till Saturday, and on Saturday they counted thejlongand lagging hours to noon. They had both resolved not to let another Sabbath pass without making direct proposal to Miss Brown. Stephen Jones was too early a riser for Charles 58& n gBHL£ u A.i n .. S?y r . e where both lead, except where money could carry the palm, and then of course, it was always borne away by Charles. As Miss Lucy had been absent most of the week, and was to| be at home that afternoon, Charles Bobinson Ijad made an ar rangement with his mother and sister to have a little tea party in tho evening, for the purpose of inviting Miss Brown; and|then, of coarse, would be a good opportunity] to break the ice and make known to her his feelings and wishes. Stephen Jones, however, was inore prompt in his movements. He had got ptind of the pro posed tea party, although himself and sisters for obvious reasons had not been invited, and he resolved not to risk the arrival of Mias Brown and her visit to Mr. Robinson’sjbefore he should see her. She would dismiss her school at noon and come the distance of a mile and a half round the pond home. His mind was at once made up. He would go round and meet her at the school house, and accompany her on her walk. There, in that winding road around those delightful waters, with the tall and shady trees overhead, and the wild grape-vines twin ing round their trunks and i dimoing to tho branches, while the wild biris were singing through the woods, and the wild ducks playing in the coves along the shore, surely there, if any where in the world, could |a man bring his mind up to the point of speaking of love. Accordingly a little before! noon, Stephen washed and brushed himself up, and put on his Sundoy clothes, and started on his expedition. In order to avoid observation, ho took a back route across the field, intending to come into the road by the pond, a little out of the village. As ill luck would have it, Charles Robinson had been out in the same direction] and was return ing with an armful of green doughs and wild flowers, to ornament tho parloi for the evening. He saw Stephen, and noticed his dress, and the direction he was going, and he at once smoked the whole business. His first impulse was to rush upon him and collar him, md demand that he should return back. But he recollect ed that in the last scratch he had with Stephen, two or three years before, he had a little tbe worst of it, and ho instinotiyely stood still, while Stephen passed on without seeing him. It flashed upon his mind at once that the ques tion must now be reduced to a game of speed. If he could by any means gain the school house first, he should feel a good deal of unea siness for the consequences. Stephen was walk ing very leisurely, and unconscious that he was in any danger of a competitor on the course, and it was important that bis suspicions should not be awakened. Charles therefore remained perfectly quiet till Stephen had got a little out of hearing, and then threw down his bushes and flowers and ran to the wharf below tbe store with his utmost speed. He had one ad vantage over Stephen. He was ready at a mo ment’s warning to start on an expedition of this kind, for Sunday clothes werelan every day af fair with him. | There was a light canoe belonging to his father, lying at the wharf, andla couple of stout boys were there fishing. Charles hailed them, and told them if they would row him across the pond as quick as they possibly could, he would give them a quarter of a dollar-a-piece. This, in their view, was a splendid offer for their ser vices, and they jumped on board with alacrity and manned the oars. Charles took a paddle and stood in the stem to steer the boat, and help propel her ahead. The distance by water was a little less than by land, and although Stephen had considerable tbe start of him, he believed he should be able to reach the school house first, especially if Stephen should not see him and quicken his pace. In one minute after he arrived at the wharf, the boat was .under full way. The boys laid down to the oars with right good will, and Charles put all his strength upon the paddle. They were shooting over the water twice as fast as a man could walk, and Charles already felt.pnflj ! of the victory. But when they haj-gob's about half a mile, they Came in range 'tif a little .opening in the trees on the shore, where the road was exposed to view, and there, at that critical moment, was Stephen pursuing his easy walk. Charles heart was in his month. Still it was possible Stephen might not see them, for he had not yet looked around. Lest the sound of the oars might attract his attention, Charles had instant ly, on coming in sight, ordered the boys to stop rowing, and he grasped his paddle with breath less anxiety, and waited for Stephen again to disappear. But just as he was on the point of passing behind some trees, where the boat would be out of his sight, Stephen turned his head and looked round. He stopped short, turned square round, and for the space of a minute looked steadily at the boat. Then lifting his hand, and shaking his fist resolutely at Charles, as much as to say I understand you, he started into a quick run. “Now, boys,” said Charles, “buckle to your oars for your lives, and if you get to the shore; so I can reach the school house before Stephen does, I’ll give you half a dollar apiece.” This of course added new life to the boys and increased speed to the boat. Their little canoe flew over the water almost like a bird, carrying a white bone in her mouth, and leav ing a long ripple on tho glassy waves behind her. Charles’ hand trembled, bat Still he did good execution with his paddle. Although Ste phen upon the ran was a very (Afferent thing from Stephen at a slow walk, Charles still bad strong hopes of winning the race and gaining his point. He several times caught glimpses of Stephen through the trees, and, as well as he could judge the boat had a little the best of it. But when they came out into the last opening, where for a little way they had a fair view of each other—Charles thought Stephen ran faster than ever; and although he'was now consider ably nearer the School-house than Stephen was, he still trembled for the result. They were now within fifty rods of the shore, and Charles appealed again to the boys’ lovo of money. “Now,” said he, “we have not a minute to spare. If we gain the point, I’ll give yon a dollar apiece.” The boys strained every nerve, and Charles’ paddle made the water fly like the tail of a wounded shark. When within half a dozen rods of the shore, Charles urged them again to springy all their might, and one of snapped, it in two. Ti.„ fi.ofc pull,of the other oar headed the boat from land. Charles saw at once that the delay must be fatal, if be de pended on tbe boat to carry him ashore. The water was but three feet deep, and the bottom was sandy. He sprang from the boat, and rushed toward the shore as fast as be was able to press through the water. He flew up the bank, and along the road, till he reached the school-house. The door was open, but he could see no one within. Several children were at play round the door, who, haring seen Charles approach with mouth and eyes wide open, stared at him. “Where’s the sohoolma’am 1” said Charles, hastily, to one of tbe largest boys. “Why,” said the boy, opening his eyes still wider, "is any of the folks dead ?” “You little rascal, I say, where’s the school-' ma’am “She jest went down that road,” said the boy, “twio or three minutes ago.” “Was she alone ?” said Charles. “She' started alone,” said the boy, “and a man met her out there a little ways, and turned about and went with her.’’ Charles felt that bis cake was all dough again, and that he might as well give it up for a bad job, and go home. Stephen Jones and Lucy Brown walked very leisurely home through the woods, and Charles and the boys went very leisurely in the boat across the pond. They even stopped by the way and caught a mess of fish, since the boys had thrown their lines into the boat when they started. And when they had reached the wbai;f, Charles in order to show that he hod been a fishing, took a large string of fish in bis hand and carried them up to the house. Miss Lucy Brown, on her way |home through the woods, had undoubtedly been in formed of the proposed tea party for the even ing, to which she was to bo invited, and to which Stephen Jones and Susan Jones were not invited; and when Miss Lacy’s invitation come, she sent back word that she was engaged. Haro Pecking. —A Memphis correspondent gives the following passage in a debate between a candidate for gubernatorial honors, and Gus tavus Henry, generally known as Gus, the Ea gle Orator. The debate was severe, and excited much interest. The candidate closed his speech with this annihilating declamation:— We meet this Eagle, and I can say, with an honest heart, that he has none of my flesh on his talons —none of my blood on his beak.” This was good, and would have been a stump er, hut the undismayed Gus immediately rose to his feet and replied ; “ ’Tis true the honorable gentleman has met the Eagle, and hears no traces of having left flesh on his talons or blood upon his beak. And 'tis'not strange my friends; for those of you who know the habits of our national bird, know full well that he never ifeeds upon carrion 1” Such a shout, and snob a discomfiture made Mr. {Candidate quake, bat didn’t defeat him for (governor. [ Wit-Lings. —The process of making a joke,, and the final filtering of a good deal of wit through a small verbal orifiee, justifies calling a punster a/un-neU. The article can, however, have la fine a point. Noah is thought to have had, on hoard, a supply of “Exterminators,” from the fact that for nearly six weeks be was without seeing Ary-rat. from the Telegraph and Preacher. ; THREE FRIENDS. We ft ere three friends in onr early days. When time went merrily by. And closely we ehmg together then. Yon, and Annie and I. Oh ! little we knew of the path that lay Marked out for our future years, The joys in store, or the trials sore, That would dim oar eyes with tears. We parted as many and many part. With a sigh and a loving tear, And felt, as we gave the long, last kiss, That each was doubly dear. We two may meet on earth again. But her we shall see no more, Till wn have crossed the river of death. And stand on the farther shore. Bor the light wont ought of her sweet blue eyes. And cold is the heart once warm. And a weeping willow marks the spot Where they sadly laid her form. But think not they who earliest reach The home where all shall go, Forget the love that they cherished here. Or the friends they have left below. Piccolomini Eats a Corn Dodger. While Piccolomini was at the Biddle House, in this city, a characteristic incident occurred, which was quite the delight of the numerous admirers of the little princess, and! which showed'to a charming degree, the peculiar love of admiration and popularity whjph she unmis takably passesses. There bad been lodging at the same hotel, for a few days, a genuine speci men of the untamed Wolverine—one of the rough, hearty, backwoods style of old fellows, bluff and out-spoken, and a great contemner of city airs and frivolities. Having a pocket-full of money, the result of the winter’s trade in skunk-skins, which the papers say has been profitable, he was enjoying himself on the fat of the land. Having satiated on the first-class fare of the house before his money was half run out, he began to long for some of the old-fashioned diet, and the first article that suggested itself to his roving fancy was the familiar corn-dodger which had been the solace of bis cabin from his youth up. Being impulsive as well as bluff, he lost no time in applying to his obliging host, Char ley Dibble, who much to his dissatisfaction was obliged to inform him that be had not a cook in the house that could make a corn dodger; ad ding, also, that there probably was not one in the city who ever heard of such a thing. Not to be daunted, however, our hero made a straight wake for an eating house, and by dint of ener getic management, succeeded in getting one made, having stood over the cook and superin tended the whole operation. He was in his glory that night as he was seated at the table with the big corn-dodger be fore him, and all the company wondering what it was. Directly opposite it happened that Pic spread than the "brown or6s~wmcir illuminated the childish face of the petite Siennese. The little mini looked at the corn-dodger, which was as big ns a half-bushel, and then gazing at her male companion in the prettiest of all puz zlements. 1 Thenshelanghed alittle, andleaned forward so as to look in the face of the old fel low, giving him a glance full of the most radi ant diablerie that ever mortal saw in woman’s eye. He was quite fascinated, but mistook the cause. He honestly thought that Piccolomini wanted some of his corn-dodger, and seizing the knife with a glowing countenance and pleased expression, he ejaculated: “Have a piece, Miss ?” A puzzled expression overspread the pretty face opposite for a moment, but .& sudden light dawned upon it, followed by a merry laugh and such a clapping of bands. Then a succession of nods ensued, which signified assent to the delighted trader. He lost no time in carving out a huge piece, which he passed over on the point of hia knife. It wasn’t much of a bite for him, but the little prima donna conld bare ly clasp it in both hands, as she recelved'Jt in high glee. She looked at it with a delighted bewilderment, for a moment, and then, with a rueful face at the predicament In which she had got herself, put her teeth to it. She nibbled at it like a mouse, smiled an angelic smile, took a second nibble, and laughed as heartily as a school girl. Then she deposited it on one side of her plate—it covered up two-thirds of it— and with a relieved air returned her thanks; “Zat ees ver ee coot, my fren’. I sink he ees mos’, vat you call him ?—mos’, mos’, —ex- • cel-lont/* “No, you don’t say so?” exclaimed the de lighted trader. “Who’d a tho’t it, by jimminy ? Give us yonr hand sissy !” and he fairly jumped out of his chair as he stretched out a brawny palm clear across the table, which was grasped by the jeweled hand of the little princess. The scene created an uproar, and there was no end of hilarity and good humor, in which none more heartily participated than Piccolomini, Who wonders that she wins her way wherever she goes ? —Detroit Free Press. Some Wag has made np the following sum mary of of what he calls the “Inalienable Rights of Americans,” and which are not enumerated in the Declaration of Independence: To know any trade or business without ap prenticeship or experience. To marry without regard to fortune, state of health, position, or opinion of parents and friends. To have wife and children dependant on con tingencies of business, and, in case of sudden death, leave them wholly unprovided for. To put off upon hireling strangers the liter ary, moral and religious education of children. To teach children no good trade, hoping they will have, when grown up, wit enough to live on the industry of other people. To enjoy the general sympathy, when made bankrupt by reckless speculations. To cheat the government if possible. To hold office without being competent to dis charge its duties. To build honses with nine and sis inch walls, and go to the funerals of tenants, firemen and others; killed by their fall, weeping over the mysterious dispensation of Providence. Tff build np cities and towns without parks, public squares, broad streets, or, ventilated blocks, and cal! pestilence a visitation of God. Advertisements will lie charged $1 per square of 14 lines, one or three insertions, and 25 cents for every subsequent insertion. Advertisements of less than 14 lines considered as a square. Thesubjoined rates will he charged for Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly ad vertisements : 3 MONTHS. 6 MONTHS. 32 SfONTHF. Square, - . $4,50 $6,00 2 do. - 4,00 6,00 8,00 i column, - - £,OO ** 8,00 30,00 v do. - 30,00 35,00 20.00 p Column, - - ia,oo - 30,00 40,00 it Advertisements not having tbenumbor of insertion desired marked upon them, will be published until or dered ont and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbill*, Bid-Heads, Letter-Heads and all kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices’, Constables’, and township BLANKS: Notes, Bonds. Deeds, Mort gages, Declarations and- other Blanks, constantly on band, or printed to order. NO. 49, From Tj. D. Backer, Superintendent of the Cleveland and Toledo Railroad, the Cleveland Leader obtains the following particulars of an exciting race in jwhioh the steeds were Iron horses and the 'stakes greater than have ever been known on any track. Mr. Rucker had the facts from John D. Campbell, Esq., Super intendent of the Michigan Southern and North ern Indiana Railroad. One day last week as the eastward hound express train reached Im ports, Indiana, a passenger stepped off while the engine was being replenished with wood and water, and walked hack and forth on. the platform, and continued to walk until the whis tle sounded.) The other passengers got on board and the train passed off, hut the gentle man still walked 1 on. A few minutes after the train had gone, a station roan saw the pedes trian, and going up to him, asked in a surprised tone— “What the are you doing here ?” The man started, opened his eyes, and looked around bewildered. The fact was, he had been fatigued and dropped to sleep while walkiflg.— Rousing himself, he asked— * “Why ! Where am I?” “Where are yon? At Laporte.” “Where’s the train I came on ?” - “That left ten minutes ago.” Vibgixia.' “Ten minutes ago and left me ! I must go on that train. It is a question of life and death with me. Can you get me to it? Have you got an engine here ? Where is the Super intendent?” The section-master had an office near by, and the two went to find that official and to procure an engine. The traveler stated his case—ho must go on—could not delay—and offered the officer 5250 if he would put him on board the train. This strange demand and strange offer caused the station-master to hasten to do what he could. The fire was not out in the engine that bad drawn the train to that point; the bar gain was settled; a draft given on New York for the $250, and in ten minutes the traveler started with an engine to overtake the flying Express. After rushing on for thirty or forty miles some connection gave way about the en gine. The engine was stopped—the engineer found the difficulty, and in a very few minutes had a wooden pin whittled out and fitted to sup ply the deficiency. With this, on they flew.— The train had of course many miles the start of them, and despite the wooden pin the engi neer crowded 'on steam and tore through the country at a fearful rate. Thirty miles of the distance passed was run in twenty-seven min utes ; hut the engagement was that they should overtake the train, and do it they must.'ind do it they did, but not until more than one hun dred miles had been run, and they were ap proaching Toledo. Having at length overtaken the traveler went eagerly to a berth in the sleeping car, and took therefrom a carpet-bag containing §275,000. His treasure was safe— none had molested it, and, dismissing bis faith ful courier, he went on his way rejoicing at the success of bis perilous and exciting adventure. Saltation by “Dipping.” —An ‘Old Soaker,’ who lives in W eston, Missouri, took it into his bead one day that it was necessary for his fu ture welfare to be “born ag'in," and forthwith repaired to the Hev. Mr. B , the respected pastor of the Baptist denomination of the town aforesaid, to obtain light. He was received with urbanity, and forthwith the following dia logue ensued: Old S.—lt’s your doctrine, boss, that a feller to bo saved must suffer immursfaun, isn't it? Mr. B.—Yes, Mr. S., it is a fundamental doc trine of our church, that a man, to be regen erated, must repent of his sins and be immersed. Old S.—Well, boss, after repentin’ of his sins, and bein’ slid under, if he flashes in the pan, then what ? Air. B.—Although backsliding is much to ha deploredi still, if he sincerely repents of his SIDS } iiual Is agulu Imiucroco, .rill receive him again. Old S.—Well, s'pose he ag'in kicks out of the traces after the second time, (for you know what critters there are in the world, boss,) theu what’s to pay ? - Mr. B.—Notwithstanding all this, if he will repent, and solemnly promise to amend his fu ture life, the church will again receive him into its bosom, after being immersed. Old S., (after a few moments of deep thought) proposing the closing interrogatory—Well, boss, wouldn’t it be a blasted good idea to keep such fellers in soak all the time? Our informant did not say whether old S. joined the church or not, but we are inclined to the opinion that he did not. A Sisteh ix a Tight Place. —At If , one Saturday evening, fatigued by his long journey, a wagoner, with his son John, drove his team into good range, and determined to pass the Sabbath, enjoying a season of worship with the good folks of the village. When the time for worship arrived, John was set to watch the team while the wagoner went in' with the crowd. The preacher had hardly announced his subject before the old man fell sound asleep. He sat against the partion in the centre of the body slip; just over against him, separated only by a very low partition, sat a fleshy lady who seemed all absorbed in the, sermon. She struggled hard with her feelings, but unable to control them any longer, she burst out with a loud scream, and shouted at the top of her voice, arousing the old man, n ho," but half awake, thrust his arms around her, and cried very soothingly: “Wo, Nance! wo I here John”—calling bis son “cut the belly band and loose the breech ing, quick, or she’U tear everything to pieces.” Bald headed men taken joke the more easily, because they are not at the trouble of “getting it through their hair.” We always did like the “church going belle.” If you wish to he certain of what you got, never marry a girl named Ann; “ an” is an in definite article. Rates of Advertising. Exciting- Race.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers