J^fofA^ertislng.
iUbe charged $1 per equate of 10
25 cent f for , mr ?
"-t three ins Advert isementa of lees than 10
~ioKr COll '..„ a r«. Thesubjoined rates will
Half-Yeady and Yearly ad-,
m; , 6 MOSTHB, 12 JIOSTHS
, 3 “SoO s*,so $6,00
. • soo 6,50 8,00
' • f'oo 8,50 10,00
800 9,50 12,50
• • li’oo 20,00 30,00
' ' 25,00 35,00 50,00
j, • , tfaeznuobcr of insertion,
D ° *heni. will be published until or
i^&Sirdingly.
„.d C “J" sii!Jleadf, Letter-Heads andall
5,2“ lie in country establishments, er
„optly. Jostices’, Constables’,
eilJ , i i c : ( „Ml»n«y on hand.
tt «^ E -
For tho Agitator.
j yH I E ND S HIP •
I /, there are in this Weak world
I can confide;
I .the sail on life's broad stream 1
J £ IW"itll'verytide
-aia thought some friend was mine
i , I r l ch«rmeiuiny woe;
bat as idly spoken word
gu fflade that friend a foe.
ri,re so confidence to give,
cioftithas been broken:
Or beart alone most bear its griefs,
bear them all unspoken.
,y„ir maj-notthe heart be true
To those whose love it bears.
nv may not earth in smiles be robed
jnciead of doubts &nd fenrs ?
July, 1559. Honario.
"XhePorec of Imagination;
nE ir. ElCHOFFtu's ADVESTCBE WITH A SSAKE.
-Is of strong nervous temperament are
tbves to the whims and caprices of their
'"■.Moos; and hence; people of good men
-tof very ordinary physical acquirements,
.'.cost subject to this tyranny of mind
"flitter. Occasionally, a very ordinary
; person—that-is, an individual of con
■■it mind, but whose mental capacities
and so partially undeveloped—
’K from tliis peculiar fact in a most dis
'r, No doubt (says tire best phys
li-Thority) one-half the ills that flesh is heir
.ieperinduced by the fancy of tho sufferer
1" Hundreds have died by mere symptoms
J»len, yellow fever and plaguo, induced
,". ;r dread and fear of those terrible maJa-
i tsss is recorded wherein a felon condemned
Bth by phlebotomy had Ills arm laid bare
shoulder, and thrust through a hole in a
Bi'.u, while lie was fast bound to the oppo
, .;i e; the hidden executioner, upon the
stale, applied the lances to his man with a
i, the poor culprit heard the muddy stream
;. jiirg, and soon growing weaker and
:W, le fell into a swoon, and died ; when
m va<, not a drop of blood had been shed,
rpun haring merely snapped his lancet
■se arm, and continued to pour a small
"iff irater over the limb and into a basin I
tier case in “pint” was that of i Phila-
:';ii amateur butcher, who, in placing his
* upon si ?s<Jok, slipped, and hung hiniseif,
»f his beef, upon the barbed point.—
jspDT was intense-—he was quickly taken
cisJ rarried to a physician’s office, and so
sms bis pain (in imagination) that he
.-ipuouslv upon every motion made by the
(j Id cutting the coat and shirt sleeve from
■it the wounded arm ! When at last the arm
. itfed, not a scratch was there! The book
:tbi merely grazed along the skin, and
dure sleeve! I
isiilnnt multiply the various frets extant
~‘f of the force exercised by a misdirected
::ation, but will mention one case so
■c«’y imposing as to cause a pretty broad
L'.if rmt prove otherwise interesting.
'-? years ago, near the town of Heading,
cutnunty, Pennsylvania, there lired a cosy
:’inner, named Sweighoffer —of German de
and accent too, as his speech 'will indi
uld man Sweighoffer had once served as
in tlic legislature, and was therefore
-f.-.LI’and 1 ’and as he had also long ago com
pel a volunteer corps of rustic militia, he
..I hardly bo f opposed inclined to cowardice.
Peter was his only son, a strapping lad
w Witeen; and upon old Peter and young
rt rd:Volv?d the principal cares and toils of
i gentleinan's farm, now and then assist
bT,he old lady and her two bouncing daugh
it is very common in that State to see
sr;aen and girls at work in the fields —and
•" extra occasions some hired hands.
SVi. one warm day in haying time, old Pe
young Peter were hard at it In the
when the old man drops his scythe
Whirls out:
mine Gott, Peter!”
P'at’s de nutter, faderanswers the son,
r sWmg up and looking at his sire.
Gott, Peter!” again cried the old
killer!” echoes young Peter, hurrying up
■ ::t eld man.
mine Gott; der snake bite mine leg!”
. M Jthing in particular was capable of
f ‘.rung young Peter, it was snakes ; for he
notice nearly crippled'himself for life by
~fung upon a crooked stick, which clamped
tnkle, and so horrified the young man that
cd to hare fallen through himself.
,“!, ’ ,vor J snake, young Pater fell back
15 a wire-drawer, and bawled out iu
|p> c re is der snake ?”
my tnnvsis, Peter—o mine Gott!”
mine Gott; - ’ echoed Peter, junior,
kin him.’’
• he kill me, Peter; come—come
trows * s *' 1
et<?r the jounger’e cowardice overcame
, Action, while bis fear lent strength
s he started like a scared Income-
’ cali the old burly Dutchman who was at
•: 4!na distant part of the field, to give hia
the snake.
z ,\, '“ e ' l ''e former’s assistant, came hound
ri; M soon as i' e l' ear( i the news, and
a ' 9n S the fence wheron Peter and his
hung their “linsey woolsey” vests,,
or >e of the garments and hurried
Sjk ■ man f >ctcr i vrho still managed to keep
fcj, | ? ,as ' although he was quaking and trem
:,2 ' ~' n aspen leaf in a gale of wind.
-‘ it Gome, come quick, Jacob,
ftl VT a 40 P* eces —here up mine leg.”
V was: not particularly sensitive to
ilt / e ' T P eo pl e t young or old, are dead to
. etl a “pizenous” reptile is about.—
“P the stiff dry stalks of a stalwart
* Jake told the boss to stand steady,
h('T 0a 'd a t least stun the snake by a rap
dj ’‘ n not till it stone dead ; and the
Hja kij e l er ’ i css loth to have legs broken
W tj. P'tten to death by a snake, designa-
The « 0t t 0 rtr *® ce > an d old Jake let him have
s'.i ,^ 6t hlovr broke the weed and knocked
'to-bin, i °“ er off **is pegs and into a haycock
,l oh "> *
*M roa *®d old Peter, “yen broke mine leg
5 '•'n tbnake’e gone
THE AGITATOR
atbotcq to tfle sgyttttffCott of tfyt am of jFmqom ana tfjc Sptcaq of l&cfovm.
WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTBD. AND UNTIL "MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUSI CONTINUE.
VOL. VI.
“Vere I vere!” cries old Jake, moving brisk
ly about, and scanning very narrowly tho
ground he stood npon.
“Never mind him, Jacob; help me up. PH
go home.” ■
“Pot on your vhest,den; here it is;” said
tbe old crout-eater, gathering up his boss and
trying to get the garment upon his lumpy back.
The moment old Peter made the effort he grew
livid in the face—his hair stood on end, “like
the quills upon the frightful porcupine,” as Mrs.
Partington observes—he shivered—he shook
hia teeth chattered—and hia knees knocked a
Haccaio accompaniment.
“O! Yacob, carry me home! Pm dead as
nits!”
“Vat! Ish nodder hhnake in your trow
shers?"
“No-a—look. Pm swelt all up! Mine vhest
wont go on my back. O! O! mine Gott!”
“Tnnder and blixen !” cried old Jake, as he
took the same conclusion, and with might and
main the old man, scared into a most wonderful
feat of physical strength, lugged and carried
the boss some quarter or half a mile to the
house.
“Young Peter had shinned it home at the
earliest stage of the dire proceedings and so
alarmed the girls that they were in a high state
when they saw the approach of the good old
dad and his assistant.
Old man Peter was carried in, and began to
die natural ai life, when in coroes the old lady,
in a great bustle, and wanted to know what
W3rS going on. Old Peter, in the last gasp of
agony and weakness, opened his eyes and feebly
pointed to his leg. The old woman ripped up
the pantaloons, t ‘ thistle-top,
and at the same ' a scratch
was made visible,
“Call dls a shnoke! Bah !” says the old wo
man.
“0, but I’m pizhened to death. Molly! See,
I’m all pizhen—mine vest—o dear, mine vest
not come ober mine body!”
“Haw ! haw ! haw !" roared the old woman,
“Vat a fool! Tim got Peter’s chest on .'—haw!
haw! haw!”
“Bosh !” roars old Peteiy shaking off death’s
icy fetters at one surge, and jumping up,—
“Bosh! Jacob, vat a tain ole fool you musht be,
to say I rash schnake-bite I Go ’bout your
highness, gals. Peter bring me some beer.”
The old woman saved Peter’s life.
From the Chickasaw and Choctaw Herald.
-&tx Old Story in a New Dress.
BY F. E. PINEY,
‘•I’ll tell it as ’twas told to me.”
A very long time ago, in the western part of
England there lived an aged couple whose times
had passed awny, since early youth, in the
every day round of farm life, who had never
been known to have the least ill-feeling towards
each other since the time when the good old
parson Ileriot had united them in the holy bonds
of wedlock, twenty-five years before. So well
was the fact of their conjugal happiness known
that they were spoken of, far and near, as the
happiest pair known. Now, the Devil (excuse
the abrupt mention of his name,) had been try
ing for twenty years to create what is so com
monly called “a fuss in the family,” between
these old companions. But much to his morti
fication, he had not been able to induce the old
gentleman to grumble about breakfast being
late once, or the old lady to give a single cur
tain lecture. After repeated efforts, the Devil
became discouraged, and had he not been a per
son of great determination he would doubtless
have given up the work in despair. One day
as be walked along in a very surly mood, after
another attempt to get the old Indy to quarrel
about the pigs getting into the yard, he met an
old woman, a near neighbor of the aged couple.
As Mr. Devil and the neighbor were very par
ticular friends, they must needs stop and chat a
little.
“Good morning, sir," said she, “and pray
what on earth makes you look so badly this
beautiful morning, isn’t the controversy be
tween the churches doing good service ?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t Deacon W. making plenty of bad
whiskey ?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what is the matter, my highly honor
ed master?”
“Everything else is going on well enough,”
replied the Devil, “but,” and here he looked as
sour as a monkey in a crab apple tree, “old
Blucford, and his wife, over here, are injuring
the cause terribly by their bad example, and
after trying for years to induce them to do bet
ter, I must say I consider them hopeless.”
The old hag stood for a moment in deep
thought.
“Are you sure that you have tried every
way ?” she asked.
“Every one I can think of.”
“Are you certain ?”
“Yes.”
“kill
“Well.” replied she, “if you will promise to
make me a present of a new pair‘of shoes, in
case I succeed, I will make the attempt myself
and see if I can’t raise a quarrel between them.”
To this reasonable request the Devil gladly
assented. The old bag went her way to neigh
bor Blueford’s house and found old Mrs. Blue
ford very busily engaged in getting things ready
for her husband’s comfort on his return from
the work. After the usual compliments had
passed, the following dialogue took place:
‘■Well, friend 8., you and Mr. B. have lived
a long time together.”
“Five and twenty years come next Novem
ber.”
“And in all this time you have never had,a
quarrel.”
“Not one."
“I am truly glad to hear it continued the
hag, “I consider it my duty to warn yon, though
this is the case you must not expect it to last
always. Have you not observed that of late
Mr. B. has grown peevish and sullen at times?”
“A very little so, observed Mrs. Blueford.
“I know it," continued the hag, “and let me
warn you in time to he on your guard.”
Mrs. B. did not think she had better do se,
and asked advice as to bow she ought to man
age the Sass.
TIOGA COUNTY. PAf, THURSDAY MORNING. AUGUST 11, 1859.
“Have you not noticed,” said the hag “that
your husband has a bunch of long coarse, gray
hair, growing on a mole, under his chin, on the
tight side of hia throat 1” )
“Yes.”
“These are the cause of the trouble, and as
long as they remain you had better look out!
Now os a friend, I would advise you to Cut
them off the first time you get a chance and
thus end the trouble.”
“If you say so, I will,” replied the old lady.
Soon after this the bag started for home, and
made it convenient to meet Mr. B. on the way.
Much the same talk in relation to his domestic
happiness passed between him and the old ha".
“But, friend B.” said she, “I think it iny
duty ns a Christian, to warn you to be on your
guard, for I tell you that your wife intends
your ruin.”
“Old Mr. B. was very much astonished, yet
he could not wholly discredit her words. When
he reached home he threw himself on his ,bed
in great perplexity, and feigning sleep studied
the matter over in liis mind. His wife, think
ing this a good opportunity for cutting OS'! the
obnoxious hair, took her husband’s razor 'and
crept softly to his side. Now the old lady Iwns
very much frightened at holding a razor so close
to her husband’s neck, and 1 her hand was not
so steady as it was once, so between thejtwo
she went to work very awkwardly and pulled
the hairs instead of cutting them off. 'Mr.
Blueford opened his eyes, and there stood bis
wife with a razor at his throat. After what
had been told him, and seeing this, he could
not doubt that she intended to murder him.—
He sprang from the bed in horror, and no ex
planation or entreaty could Iconvince him to the
contrary. So, from that time forth there was
no more peace for that bouse. It was jawjjaw,
quarrel and wrangling all the time.
With delight the Devil heard of the success
of his faithful emissary, and sent her word that
if she would meet him at the end of the llawn
at a certain time he would pay her the shoes.
At the appointed time she repaired to the
spot and found the Devil at the place. He put
the shoes on the end of a very long polje and
standing on the opposite side of the fence hand
ed them over to her. She was very much
pleased with them, they were exactly the arti
cle. I
“But there was one thing, Mr. Devil, ihat I
would like to have explained ; that is, wh|y you
hand them to me on that stick ?” |
“Very easy to explain,” replied he, “anyone
who has the cunning and meanndss to do os
you have dune, don’t get nearer than twenty
feet of me!” so saying, he fled in terror.
After a while the old woman died, and when
she applied for admission to the lower regions,
the devil would not let her in, for four she
would dethrone him, as she was so much his su
perior. So the old woman is yet compelled to
wonder over the world, creating quarrels and
strife in peaceful families and neighborhoods.
“Would you know her name?” I
It is Madam Scandal, When she died, her
children, the young Scandalizers were left or
phans, but the Devil, in consideration pf past
service done by the mother, adopted them, and
so you see he is father of that respectable class
called scandal mongers.
Hifalutin.— Perhaps the following may not
amuse cither yourselves or your but it
did mo. In our drug store I have b fellow
clerk, somewhat celebrated among his acquaint
ances as a concocter of puns and the utterer of
dry jokes. lie is a boyish-looking youth, and
officiates, when his services are required behind
the soda fountain. A few mornings since,
a fashionably dressed, poetical-looking young
gentleman .entered, and seating himself on a
stool in front of the counter, in a choi :e selec
tion of terms requested the clerk to prepare
him a seidlilz powder. The following conver
sation, ridiculous in its earnestness, resulted:
Clerk —With syrup?
Cusiome i—(slowly and methodically)—l re
quire it not as, a refreshment. If the syrup
vitaite not the effect of the compound, you may
mingle with it such an amount of the substance
as will render the potation palatable. iOr, to be
better understood—
Clerk —(lnterrupting)—I comprc!
perfectly. Permit me to assure yoi
tendency of the syrup will be rather t(
than diminish the purgative virtues of
Customer — (Indignant at observing
style is affected by the other) —Then
miracle of medical literature and wisi
Clerk —With dispatch, confounder
Customer —Then, if not struck moti
baste.
All this was so quietly, so politely said, that,
although amused beyond expression at the con
versation, I stared in wonder at the parties.
The clerk evidently felt cut at the list remark
of the other, but mixed the powder which the
stranger triumphantly swallowed, paid for, and
started to leave the store, when— j
Clerk —Should you feel any uneasiness in the
region of the stomach within the jperiod of
fifteen minutes, illustrious patron, attribute the
cause to the accidental introductiox into the
draught you have just taken of some drug of
vigorous effect and painful consequence.
Customer-■{ A trifle frightened)—lf I do,
d n you. I’ll punch your head 1
Clerk —l thought I’d bring you down to plain
English ; but I guess you’ll find the powder all
right. —Exit customer, with coat-tail standing
straight-out.
, “Conductor,” said an over-dres ied dandy,
the other day, in one of our rail-cars, “do not
procrastinate, bat push your equine motive
power to their greatest velocity, for I have an
engagement up town at a stated hour, which
I must fulfil, or expire.”—“Jem,” shouted the
conductor to the driver, “push alor/g—hero’s a
lunatic, swearing away like tho mischief.”
A French bonnet-maker told a customer who
complained of the price demanded for a new
bonnet—“ Consider, madam, it cost roe three
slesplees nights to imagine it t”
Never purchase love or friends!
when thus obtained, they are loi
you stop payment
COMMUNICATIONS.
j Tor tb. Agitater,
Old StUe« at the Sinner Table.
“And, now wife, bring on. the pie you were,
speaking about just now, and we will see wheth
er it bears the encomiums you have heaped up
on it.” On pronouncing these few words I laid
myself back in my chair to enjoy the half ex
pectant, half careless feeling one experiences
just before the dessert. My wife, poor dear
good soul is an excellent housekeeper and cook,
but did not enjoy the advantages of an early
education. She is like me in one respect, name
ly, she is bound to have her say and will not
bear to be interupted in it till it is all said;
and so when I made my last remark about the
pie, she looked across the table half indignant
ly and said, “Encomiums! en-comiums!—
What’s them ? Some new fangled kind of crust
is it? or is it a kiver to a pie pan? No sir; I
did not heap encomiums upon it or anything
else. I made it in the usual way—the best
way—the way I always did make it, and I am
sure, Mr. Stiles there is no use of your grum
bling. Not grumbling? Then why say any
thing about the pie at all? Me brag over it?
I beg your pardon Mr. Stiles; I leave it to Je
mima Short if I bragged of it. All I said was
that it was a good pie and well baked. I have
seen pies you would turn up your nose at, Mr.
Stiles, and rhubarb pies at-that. /have seen
pics cut over at Mrs. Johnson’s when the pie
plant was a clear yaller color for not being done
enough, and the crust burnt too; and then the
flavor 1 land sakes ! folks may peel the skin off
from the pie plant but yqu wouldn’t catch me
doing that; 1 would just as leeves take Proo
ceeric acid at once and have done with it. Be
sides I make my pies when the pie plant gets
cold, and not bilin’ red hot as some folks do.—
So you can eat it Mr. Stiles or not, jest as you
think best: 1 wouldn’t have you hurt yourself
by no means, but you wouldn’t find no end
combs or what-you-oall-ems heaped on my pies,
you won’t.”
My-wife stopped a moment to take breath,
and I sought to_change the subject by asking
Airs. Bright (my mother-in-law) how her head
was; knowing she was subject to headache;
hut the plan wouldn’t work, for my wife pro
ceeded to cut the pie and talk :
“It allers was so Jemima, (addressing herself
to my cousin ;) women folks may toil and slave
the nails off from their fingers to please the
men folks, and that’s all the thanks they git.
It was a massy to yourself that you refused to
have anylhiug to do with them. If I was a
gal like you and knowed as much about men’s
dispositions ns I do now, I would keep clear of
them.” Here Jemima cast upon my wife a
pitying smile. The latter went into the kitch
en with her handkerchief at her eyes and I ate
my pis in poaqc.
Immediately on my wife’s exit, Jemima, who
tries to keep on the right side of both of us by
tickling our vanity and ministering to our pe
culiar whims, asked me my opinion, “whether
it is not always best to speak plain Saxon words
when we can, instead of being ‘polite?’” 1
replied; “When one speaks grammatically
and properly, and in language adapted to the
understanding of thepersou addressed, it makes
no difference what kind of words are used.—
Speaking ‘politely’ as the vulgar call it, hi sim
ply speaking ‘correctly.’ Do 1 mean that you
are vulgar ? Not at all Jemima; and I ought
to have said ignorant instead of vulgar. Do I
mean that you are ignorant? No, not quite
that; but I was speaking of a class —a class
who think because one speaks correctly that
therefore they put on airs, are proud, “high
feeling” as they say. But this is unjust. Ev
ery one ought to speak properly if they can.—
I do not mean that people should affect what is
vulgarly called the “hifalutin” style; for, as
language is intended only as a means whereby
to express our thoughts, we ought to use it ac
cordingly. The abuse of language is what we
have most reason to complain of, instead of its
use. Do I approve of Latin and French phra
ses introduced into English ? No, I do not, un
less it is impossible to express the same thought
in any other way. lam opposed to this prac
tice because the ignorant make fools of them
selves by doing so, and also make of themselves
a laughing stock for the intelligent. I will tell
you a story which this reminds me of. Old
Squire T., a friend of mine now dead, was a
Justice of the Pence. A man was being exam
ined before him once upon a time upon a charge
of arson. lie was defended by S., a pettifog
ger, rather given to the use of bad whisky,
strange oaths and hog-Latin. A lady, the wife
of the man whose barn bad been burned, was
placed upon the stand to prove the fact of the
burning.
“May it please the Court,” said' S. the petti
fogger, slowly and emphatically, “I object to
having this woman’s testimony admitted."
“Will you state the ground of your objec
tion ?” said Mr. C. the lawyer for the prosecu
tion.
lend you
that the
enhance
the drug,
that his
proceed,
iom I
>f fools,
mless use
“Certainly,” said S. “I object on the ground
that she is com-pus men-tis !”
“Sir,” said old Squire T. sternly, “this Court
is not to be trifled with. I don’t allow hog-
Latin here. State your objection in plain En
glish.”
S. tho pettifogger scratched his head, looked
puzzled for a moment, and then offered the fol
lowing translation;
“May it please your honor, I thought your
honor had read Blackstone enough to know
that by com-pus men-tis I mean that she is in
terested in the event of the suit /”
(At the conclusion of this story, Jemima
Short who thinks it vulgar as well as sinful to
laugh, toot a severe lit of coughing which en
tirely broke up the conversation.)
For tho Agitator,
Be Docth all things Well.
I knelt in sorrow by the grave of our loved
one, ’and poured on the green sods my tears. —
Softly the blue violets lifted their meek eyes to
mine, af if striving to mitigate the deep grief
of my soul. But no! I would not bo comfort
ed. I would not bow my head under the rod
that had been laid upon me and meekly say
“tby will, not mine be done,”' Why,, oh why,
had Death passed by the door of the agfld, ripe
ip by gifts;
t as soon as
for the harvest and ready to be gathered to
their reward, and torn the joungand beautiful
from the grasp, of loving friends ?! Why did he
with relentless power rend apart the tendrils of
love that bad entwined us so closely to her and
leave our hearts all torn and bleeding? Alas!
God only knows. Twilight’s holy shades gath
ered around, and as the silvery stars shone forth
memory wandered back, when the form that
rests so peacefully beneath the flowers, was
buoyant with health, —when the eye that is
forever closed sparkled with life and happiness
—the lips that are sealed by Death smiled
sweetly on all. But she faded. The beautiful
smile came less frequently; her eye brightened
day by day, and her form grew frailer, and she
died. As I gazed upon the blue sky, gemmed
with coantless worlds and thought of the beau
teous land far above it, where the pure spirit of
our loved bad flown, I could not wish her back
to this world of pain and sorrow; but with an
humble heart I bowed my head as I left the
spot so dear to us, and said, “lie doeth all
things well.” K. F. s.
Mainsburg, Ps.
Prom the Telegraph and Preacher.
SORROWS.
Sorrows are never all in vain;
■When onr first tears are shed.
When time has eased the bitter pun,
And healed the heart that bled;
Strength, earnestness and self-control
Spring up from pain and strife,
And peace, and purity of soul
Mate beautiful the life.
Oh ! mourner, whosoe’er thou art,
Whatever be thy grief,
In life’s stern duties take a part.
And thou shaft find relief,*
From every soul »o«ie joy departs.
Thou dost not weep alone;
Dry other tears, soothe other hearts,
As heavy as thine own.
VmcifriA.
Selling a Judge. —Bob Harper who lived on
Kittle Creek, in Wilkes county Ga., was fined
five dollars by Judge Dooley during court week.
Bob was a wag, and he said he would have the
worth of his itioney out of the Judge. It hap
pened that the Judge was on hia circuit (on
horseback In those days) and passing by Bob's
house on the creek, which was swollen by a
heavy rain, he wanted to know if the creek was
swimming.
“I reckon ife is,” said Bob, “you will get a
cold bath if yon try it.”
“I'Jl strip and make my horse swim it if you
will go up'the creek and bring my clothes over,”
said the Judge.
OIF went his nether garments and over went
the Judge, his horse not going over his knees—
the creek being broad but shallow. As the
Judge got over, several persons were enjoying
the fun from a store piazza, neither Bob nor his
clothes making their appearance. The Judge
was wratby, cold, and shivering. Bob was still
on this side of the creek, and bawled out:—
“Judge you can have your breeches for five
dollars.”
“Bring them over,” said the Judge: “I'm
sold ; you may fight at the next court all the
week and I'll not fine you at all.”
Logic in a Printing Office. —Devil clearing
up "pi”—-jour, trying to adjust a stickful! of
"squabbled matter.” Devil remarks that a
printer ought to have more than two bands,
since their duties are so unlimited. Jour,
having received his "broughten up” under the
"old dispensation” sees no necessity of an
addition to the number of his "hookers,” and
fiercely quotes the incontrovertible maxim that
"No cat has two tails.”
Devil.— Granted. But you will admit that a
CAtbas-one tail more than no cat.”
J our.—“ Certainly.”
Devil.—“ Then a cat must have three tails.”
Jour.—How so ?”
Devil.—" Because if "no cat has two tails,”
and a cat has one tail more than no cat, then
it must have three tails.”
Jour, "caves.”
Effectually "Cleaned Oct.” —Col. Nash
once demanded the band, of a cross-grained
Alabama planter’s daughter.
"Squire, my business to-day, is to ask for
your daughter’s hand.”
"It is, is it? What, you marry my gal?
Look here, young man, leave my premises in
stanter, and if you ever set foot here again, I’ll
make my niggers skin you. Marry my daugh
ter 1 You
Nash left; he saw the old gentleman was
angry. After getting off to a safe place, be
thought he would turn oif and take last fond
look at the home of his lost idol, when he es
pied the old man busy shoveling up his tracks
from the yard and throwing them over the
fence.
A waggish chap, whose vixen wife, by drown
ing lost her precious life, called out his neigh
bors, all aroundrand told ’em that his spouse
was drowned ; and in spite of search could not
be found. lie knew he said, the very nook
where she had tumbled in the brook, and he
bad dragged along the shore, above the place a
mile or more. “Above the place 1” the people
cried, “Why what dy’e mean ?” The man re
plied : “Of course you don’t suppose I’d go and
waste the time to look below 1 I’ve known the
woman quite a spell, and lar’nt her fashions
tol’ble well, alive or dead, she’d go, I swow,
against the current anyhow 1”
Dr. Barnes being inclined to sleep a little du
ring a dull sermon, a friend who was with him,
joked him on having nodded now and then.
Barnes insisted that be had been awake all the
time.
“Well then,” said his friend, “can you tell
me what the sermon was about
“Yes, I can,” he answered, “it was about—
an hour too long 1”
There is a man out in Ringgold county, so
infernnlly lazy that he once lay in bed two
nights and a day and a half, waiting for bis
wife to get up and make a fire. Her grit finally
gave out, and she got up and made tho fire.
Undoubtedly he is “the laziest, man in. all the.
town 1 ' not only, hut also in all the Sftate.-
Terms of Publication.
THE TIOGA COUNTT AGITATOR is published
tvery Thursday Morning, and mailed to subscriber*
at the very reasonable price of
* ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM,
invariably *» odrance. It is intended to notify every
subscriber when the term for which he has paid shall ,
have expired, by the stamp—' “Time Out," on the mar
gin of the last paper. The paper will then be stopped
until a farther remittance he received. By tiwar
range men t no man can be brought in debt to,the
printer. I
The AotTAToa is the Official Paper of the County*
with a large and steadily increasing circulation reach
ing into every neighborhood in the County, It is sent
of poUag* to any Post Office within the county
limits, but whose most convenient post office may bw
in an adjoining County.
NO. g.
Business Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper inclu
ded, $5 per year.
EDU^iTIQNAL^
The Object of Tree teaming.
The object is to beget manhood; the means
are indifferent, so that the end is secured. How r
shall it be done ? How does the son of the poor
man rise amid all bis disadvantages of birth
and position to wealth, eminence and honor?
By labor. How does the son of the - wealthy,
in spite of all his advantages, descend to pov
erty, disgrace, and reproach ? Through bis in
ability to labor. Without books or schoolmas
ters, the one is educated and elevated; with
them, the other is depressed and degraded.—
The difference is, labor. The one is able to
comply with the first great law of his being;
the other is not. Labor is, therefore, education
in its truest sense. The man who knows not
how to labor knows nothing; the roan who
knows how to labor, has within hia reach the .
elements of everything. He who has not learned
to support himself by industry—-which nob
merely includes the knowledge of some branch
of human employment, but the capacity to ap
ply himself to it for the production of substan
tial results—is, however elaborately he xaky
have penetrated into books of science, unin
structed in that which is, and will he until the
entire constitution of humanity is changed, the
thing, of all others, first in importance to man
kind. Let not the poor boy, weary at the plow
tail, or in the workshop, and longing for learn
ing, repine. His labor, and the hahits of con
secutive industry which he is acquiring, are the
best of all education—the highest foundation
of personal independence, without which there
is no manhood ; and his very longing for that
knowledge which seems beyond,his reach, is,
of itself, discipline of no common value. What
the mind goes out eagerly for, it either gets, or
its equivalent; and the man who earnestly
strove for excellence, however meagre his means
and opportunities, never failed of his reward in
a commensurate improvement.
The practice of consecutive schooling year
after year, with the expectation of making the
educated and useful man, is undoubtedly wrong,
and will often end in disappointment. The
child put to school at an early age, readily
masters the rudiments^—letters, reuding«and nu
meration—which require little more than an
effort of the memory. His mind then mani
fests a disposition to rest, the activity of his
nature being transformed to his physical organ
ization. If then he is pressed forward to tasks
and lessons, both body and mind are liable to f
be dwarfed and narrowed by the process, and
instead of enlargement, contraction is the al
most certain result Ills capacity to learn, as
by the judicious it is sometimes called, is sim
ply a temporary continence of memory acquired
at the expense of the other faculties. Now is
the time to tench him labor. This is indicated
by the expansion of his body and its demand
for active employment. The labor should be a '
productive kind, and such as requires attention
and the endurance of fatigue, without overtax- '
mg his energies and driving him to indolence
through disgust. The demands of the body
being satisfied, the mind again .awakes, and
thus, instead of being opposing elements in the
progress of the man towards bis perfect con
dition, each acts ns the friend and auxiliary of
the other, and expansion and development go
on efficiently and symmetrically.— Senry Heed.
Examination* .of Teachers.— ln what era,
Mr. Flipkins, did Napoleon Bonaparte flourish ?
“How's that ?” asks Mr. F. in reply, “wont
you jest repeat that question ?"
“Certainly, sir, in what age did Bonaparte,
the warrior, reign ?"
“Umph," rejoins the proposed schoolmaster,
with an insinuating smile, “you’ve got me
there, gentlemen 1”
“Never mind, doctor, about particular?," said
one of the committee to a fellow member.
“Let me ask him the same question in a leetle
dir rent Yon hear’n the fast question,
Mr. Flipkins; now was it before or after
Christ V* *
“Can I have the question again ?" asked
Mr. F., “I'm ’fraid I didn't take it ’zackley as
'twas nut."
The querist repeated the question. The ap
plicant scratched bis head, looked imploringly
first at one examiner and then at the other* and
made answer; -
“Well; re—ally, gentleman, you’ve got me
agin (I) I couldn’t say, re—ally" (11),
llerscdell’s Illustration op tiie Solar
System. —Chouse any well leveled field or bowl
ing gre**n ; on it place a globe two feet in diam
eter ; this will represent the sun. Mercury will
be represented by a grain of mustard seed on
the circumference on a circle 164 feet in diam
eter for its orbit; Venus a pea, on a circle of
284 feet in diameter; the earth also on a circle
of 430 feet; Mars a rather large pin’s bead on
a circle of 654 feet; the asteroids small grains
of sand in orbits 1000 to 1200 feet; Jupiter a
moderate sized orange in a circle nearly half a
mile across ; Saturn a small orange on a circle
four-fifths of a mile in diameter; Uranus a full
sized cherry or a small plum upon the circum
ference of a circle more than a mile and a half
across; and Neptune, a good sized plum on a
circle about two miles and a half in diameter.
— Neio York Teacher.
But in most schools, in all countries, tho
moral powers of the young are in a great meas
ure overlooked, and the business of moral tui
tion shamefully neglected. To improve their
tempers and affections and to lead them into
that direction which will tend to promote their
own hap'meas and that of others, is considered
a matter of inferior moment, in which teachers
are very little, if at all, interested. It forms,
at least, no prominent object in our schools, to
meliorate the tempers of the young, to counter
act the principles of malace, envy and revenge
—to inspire them with kindness and benevo
lence—and to train them to moral excellence.
“Did I understand you to say I was lousy,
e'.iV’ “Oh, no! I merely told my friends that
when it rained lice in ?gypt, I thought you
must have been walking there without bat or
umbrella—that’s all."
Dr. Dick.