1 rnVSTT AGITATOR is published rt Moroingi and mailed to subscribers f^iSonsblepri*^ •^SVw* pEB ANNDK -«« r (T 0- r. It isinlended'lp notify every f» .flterm -for with* helias paid shall on the mar 'ajjA “■“ The paper trill then be.stopped , Jj e last p»P® r : , ancß be received. By this ar ‘ fsrtter " eeu be brought in debt to the »« ““ c. t Official Paper of the County, ' circulation reach- in the County. It is sent o {,i er# cfl L T Post Office within the county w ' oi t -convenient post office may he 1i“l“ “jj, jc i e receding 6 lines, paper inclu de’ C " " -• 111. 0 IHE IfAISK, tl ter. on the water, R the Summer days were lair; . ~;0 » words in softest accents «« a of dro °P' n ? hair >' J r , til mile ear was peeping, and rosy red, p.-.hine at the earnest meaning Of the tender words I said— On the water, on the water, fairly shone the sunbeams then, toing on the liny ripples, lighting up the far-off glen; \-„ne could hear us 6avo lhe . , Irl! ’ ■ Swaying in her golden pride, ind the lilies ever moving \Tiih the motion of the tine. On lb water, on the water, . While the twilight shades drew nigh, filching at the drooping branches, .is we floated idly by; Oh! her email hands gentle pressure, And her glance all words above,^ Aod her soft cheek’s bright carnation, When I told her all my love! On the water, on the water, Now I float, but ail alone, And I miss the siffeen ringlets, And the little hand is gone; ]}:ti the sunset’s crimson beauty, Comes the twilight as of yore, All remind me of the dear one, * Lost to me for evermore. -a''Once a Weelt.” Mzkor. Mr. Peter*’ First Wife. ■Par! dear! no toast, eggs boiled as hard yickbats, and the coffee stone cold,” and [Peters rose from the breakfast table in a pj- by no means amiable, and rang the bell atlv. There was no answer! lie rang [s. a third, fourth time, still no answer! 5 j]l patience, he went to the door and i_“.Maria! Maria;” pretty little woman, dressed in a ■Mumbled wrapper, with hair in a state of ii confusion answered the summons. She !iS ! of those round, bright faces which Na .aiended should be decked with continual a, but now, with all its roses in bloom, it cram out to its full length, and the large ■ms bad a serious or rather a doleful ex- si totally at variance with their usual ra look. Her voice, too, had lost its melo hj, ringing sound, and was subdued to a whine. ■feis it Joseph?” ■fee’s Bridget ?” j ■im out for me. I want more white rib :for mv ascension robe.” | v : Peters said a very naughty word, and seontinued, “Cold coffee, hard eggs, break ita fit to eat.” Irtish,” whined his wife, “you would think •of temporal matters, and turn your atteu ;»;he great end of life.” ■Sing it all, madam, I would like to enjoy lie while I do have it. Here was J. the lest man in the [ nited States, with a pleas ■cme, a chatty, cheerful, loving wife, and i([uiet children, and now, since you have ;•! the Millerites, what am I ?” •j:, Joseph, if you would only come into •'ilessed circle I" , ■jh. Maria, if you would only come out of Where are the boys?” ‘inn sure I don’t know.” ‘Are they going to school to-day ?” 'Hr dear, their teacher has given up the aland is turning her mind to more exalted *.l-. Oh Joseph, turn now while there is You hate still a week for preparation ; pentance.” t.-wntance ! Well, when I take up the tut will take rather more than a week to through.” hi Mr. Peters put on his coat and took up ‘bieph.” said his wife, “you need not send tt ant dinner. I shall be out, and I’ll take ikrsorcr to their uncle’s to dine.” '■'■nade no answer, unless the violently cm -t; manner in which he closed the door was ’ Mattering with anger, he strode into a siatant to make a breakfast. Here he was L *i by one of his bachelor friends, Fred, looked up as he heard Joe’s order, he cried, “you here? Why, what '? a doing hero at breakfast time? Wife dad a quarrel ?” ■*n» out of town ?” "bV,” ,‘beawliT don’t you breakfast at home? on fire?” '.Vo!'’ ‘Wots all dead?” J iUren sick?” i-en, what in thunder is lo pay V 3 /‘“ na B joined the Millerites V 9 B a;Q a long whistle, and then said, ascend next week V f if I don't commit suicide in the t Ton may congratulate me, lam . distracted. Can't get a decent meal, running riot, servants saucy, house all fcV* Ua ! l ° n ’ W^e * n t^lc hlues, either quoting Reties of the elders at me, or sewing on and groaning every third stitch. J U .’^ re 'h, I’ve .a great mind to take L jj.' J°in the army !*' j-l?* J 1 m • jou give an enchanting picture, cure l ” SUgSeBt B cure " '‘lf ' ' , 'f S' o " will promise to follow my ad j ma ke jour home pleasant, yonr %Vi . and y uur children happy.” »U«LV Cried Joe - “I’d follow yonr word “ :r under his officer. What shall X '^■Jin^^ 111 ! 6 r ’ entered hie home, SJSU 3' . ar ' la was seated at the table, sew it_, er T’* 1 ' 16 robe, and there were no signs 'iiitk 4 ' 10n *° r t l’ e e? ening meal. W’ “X deaf,” said Mr. Peters cheer- C]', “ ready ?” j l^n °w,” was the answer, “have been "Oh, /' atle tiding meeting.” We "' never mind. Attending UII6 reso^v<< l> then, to leave me V 1“ \ go when lam called.” ' X dear, of course. Well, I most r*- THE AGITATOR. aeftoteg to tfcc 3S£tentfon of tfce JHcc&om anfc tfce Sjutaij of jßjcalttjg a&tfom. WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “iIAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL OEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE, VOL. VI. sign myself, I suppose. By the way, my dear, has it ever occurred to you that I shall be left a widower with three children ? I think lam a handsome man yet, my love,” and Joe walked over to the glass, passed his fingers through his hair and pulled up.his Maria looked up, rather surprised. | “You see, my dear, it is rather a relief for you to go quietly, you know. It is so wearing on the nerves to have a long illness ; and be tides, my dear, there will be no funeral expen ses, and that is quite a saving.” Mrs. Peters’ lip quivered, and her large blue eyes filled with tears. Joe longed to stop his heartless speech and comfort her, but he was fearful the desired effect was not gained yet “So, my dear,” he continued, “if you must go, I have been thinking of getting another wife.” “What?” cried Mrs. Peters. “Another wife, my love. The house must be kept in order, and the children cared for.” The grief was gone from Maria’s face, but her teeth were set with a look of fierce wrath. “Another wife, Joe ! Another wife !” “Yes. I think I hare selected a good suc cessor. I deliberated a long time, when I was a bachelor, between her and yourself. You will like her, for she is your bosom friend.” “My bosom friend!” “Yea, my dear. I think on the day that you ascend, I will marry Sarah Ingram I” “What 1 , that good-for-nothing, silly, empty headed old maid, the mother of my children! What!” “Well, my dear, it seems to be the best I can do! I don’t want to leave my business to go a courting, and she will have me, I know.” “No doubt! Oh! you great brutal, hate ful ” "Stop, my dear, don’t fly in a fury! We will try to spend our last week in happiness. Oh, by the way, I have a proposition to make.” “Go on, sir ! Don’t spare me!” “Ah, yes, that is tho very thing I wish to do. I know your mind is entirely engrossed with your ascension, and I wish to spare you the care of the house. Suppose you invite Sarah here to-morrow, to spend a week!” “What?” “Then I can arrange our matrimonial prepa rations in the evening, while you ore at the lecture.” “What?” “And you can leave the house in her charge all day. That will give you plenty of time to go out, and she can learn the ways about in the house.” “What?” “And, my dear, one little favor. It may be the last I shall ever ask. Stay at home one or two days, won’t you, and show her round, where you keep things, and so on, so that she won’t have any trouble in keeping order after you go. You will do this to obligo me, won’t you ?” Mrs. Peters, for answer, rolled up the ascen sion robe into a ball and fired it at Joe. I'he cotton, scissors, work-basket, and table-cloth followed this missile in such rapid succession, that he was unable even to fly. Then Maria’s rage found vent in words. “So! You and Sarahi! That’s the reason you whistled when you came in! You will be very glad to have me go and marry her, won’t you ? No doubt of it 1 But you shan’t marry her, sir! You shan’t have that gratification! I will stay, if it is only to spite you ! I won’t go! I tell you, Mr. Peters, I won’t go !” “But, my dear, you must go if you are come for!” “I won’t go!” “But consider, my dear !” ‘.‘l won't go!” “But what will Sarah think?” “Sarah! Don’t dare to mention Sarah to me again I I—l—oh !—I am fairly choking 1” and the little woman threw herself into a chair, in a fit of hysterics. Next morning, Mr. Peters met Fred, in the street. “Well old boy, how goes it?” “Fred,” was the reply, “I am the happiest man in the world. I have regained my wife and domestic peace, and got rid of a busy, tat tling old maid, who under pretence of loving my wife was everlastingly Interfering in all our , household arrangements.” “Then Mrs. Peters will not ascend ?” “No. If Sarah is to be my second wife, and step-mother to my children, Mrs. P. has con cluded that she won’t go 1” A Rolakd for an - Oliver. —Some few days since Judge Whitley was subpoenaed as a wit ness in the Forrest case. His old acquaintance Prince John Van Buren was the examining counsel. The Judge, who now and then aims at the facetious, was asked by the Prince what his occupation was. “Oh,” said he, “I’m a printer, poet, politician,. Justice of the Peace, editor —in a word, a Jack of all trades.” “Put that down,” said the Prince. “Jack of all trades.” “Excuse me," replied the Judge, "that was a mere pleasantry. I protest against your put ting that down.” “I insist," retorted the pertinacious Prince ; and it was duly entered that Thomas W. Whit ley confessed to being a Jack of all trades. In a few minutes afterwards the factious Jack of all trades had his revenge on the Princely Jack of all parties, for upon hie ask ing how it was that Whitley was so sure he was in Buffalo in 1848, the sarcastic Jersey, Justice said in a most emphatic manner: “Because I had then the pleasure of hearing Mr. John Van Buren make hie famous free soil speech A laugh from the spectators greeted the re tort, while the Prince groaned inwardly. — Frank Leslie’s Xews. A governess advertising for a situation says, “She is a perfect mistress of her own tongne.” “Did you ever!" exclaimed an old fogy bach elor upon reading it, “I don’t believe it though she'd swear to itl Never heard of such a thing.*' Fashionable circles were never so numerous as they are now. Almost every lady that ap pears in the streets is the centre of one. WELLSBORO. TIOGA COUNTY, PA.J THURSDAY MORNING. SEPTEMBER 1, 1859. Ten years ago I was seated in my office at No. 12, Wall street, busily driving the ( uill, when I beard a quiet step behind, and tl en a mild voice inquiring if I had the transcript of a certain judgment against one J. G. 0.-J—the projector of the great Peg-ghe-wah-wah Com pany for selling Indian medicines. I looked up and saw a man whose twisted foot anc pal sied arms were quite familiar to me, biit of whose name or calling I knew nothing. “Yes,” I replied, “I have the transcript.” “Well, I want it,” he said; “I’m going to collect it for the creditor.” “Going to collect it!” I exclaimed, “why the judgment is perfectly worthless. Execu ions, and proceedings after judgment, and all ordi nary means of grace, have long ago hee:i ex hausted upon 0. He is helplessly in ho vent, and is besides the most adroit scamp of a swin dler I ever encountered.” “What’s that to me?” broke out the visitor in a gruff, strong voice, quite different from his first tones. “Perhaps you don’t know who I am. I’m Burling, the man about town. You a lawyer, and not know me ? Sheriffs are good for nothing; constables are good fornotiing; ■ executions and creditor’s bills are good for noth ing. Give me the transcript—here’s the order for it—l’ll make the money out of him.” I swiveled around my chair and stared i.t the man. “And will you be so good, Mr. Burling,” I asked, “as to tell me what is your patent plan for superseding officers and writs, and for squeezing blood out of turnips, and cash out of the President of the Peg-ghe-wah-wah Com pany ?” j “How Ido it, yofi mean. Why I dun ’em at their houses, I dun ’em in the street, I dm ’em at the theatre, I dun ’em in church, I cato i ’em early in the morning and stick to ’em all day; follow ’em up wherever they go; go to meals and eat with ’em ;go to bed and sleep with!’em ; give ’em no peace night or day, Sunday nor week day ; stick to ’em like death to ajdead nigger. A man owes a debt. He won’t pay it I follow him all the week so he can’t do any business, nor go to see his sweetheart, nor walk in Broadway, nor eat with any appetite, nor sleep without dreaming. I’m after him, with the devil to help run him down. All this won't do? Very well. When he goes to church Sun day he'finds me in his pew. (Your Sheriff’s can’t work Sundays—l do my best huriness then.) The congregation rise, and he rises, takes ont his book, opens at the place, and there he finds the bill I’ve stuck there, and gets so mad he can’t say amen. “Sheriffs and constables !” continued he, get ting loud and fierce, will a sheriff go of a Sun day morning to a parson’s house and follow him to church, and walk up the broad aisle with him before all the congregation, and go'n pulpit stairs close to his heels, and slip ini pulpit after him before he can shut the and take a seat by his side, and get up wl gets up, and when ho opens the Bible John Jones’s hill full length, and lay it j over the chapter and verse, and tell hi) There’s that bill of horse hire—pay it befoi preach! But that’s what I did—and I Q money, too." “And what commission did you charge “Fifty per cent." “Rather strong," I suggested, “bntstil mode of procedure was strong. Bo 1 you get as much as fifty per cent?" “When I earn it I get it. Dr. C., of Broad- , tray sent me to dun a fellow who lived back in : a yard, and kept two bull dogs that he let loose , when anybody came to collect honest debits. I , went to him with a horse pistol in caclJ hand and Dr. C’s bill in my teeth, and made bi n pay up. What did Dr. C. offer me for getting his silty dollars ? He offered me one dollar. 1 won’t take it says I. I’ll pay no more, says he. Pay me thirty dollars, says I; Get out of my office, or I’ll kick you out, says he, and he kicked me out of his door and down the steps into Broadway. I goes across to the hotel and hires a great arm chair out of the bar-room, and takes it across the street and plants it on the curb-stone right opposite Dr. C’s office door, and I lays the bill I hac made oat on a full sheet of foolscap across my knees, hanging down, so everybody that went by could read in large, black, sanded letters; “Doctor C To J. Buruno, Dr. For collecting of Richard Roe, Commldßion, ........ $3OOO “And all the crowd kept stopping to read, so that there was all the while two or three hun dred people standing on the doctor’s pa'emont, and reading first my bill and then his sign, and making their jokes. I had hired the c lair for the whole afternoon, hut he hadn’t stcod this more than fifteen minutes before he comes to the door, and says, “Coma here, you ijascal and I went in, and took thirty dollars of his money, and left the bill receipted.” “But, my friend, dont your impudoi t ways often get you into scrapes; are you not afraid some one will some day break your head 7” “Break whose head?” he thundered. Didn’t Colonel S., of New Orleans, a man that s killed seven men in duels, when X went to dun him at the Astor House—didn’t he grab me by the slack of the breeches, and hold me out tbs fifth story window, and shake me there above the pavement, and say, “Shall I let you rail, and break your neck on the stones, or take you in and kick yon dowp stairs 7” “Well,” said I, anxiously; “whatdiiyoudo then?” “What did Ido 7 I said. Pay me that money 1 1 and didn’t be pall me in and pay every cent?" The intensity of bis manner as he tbns rela ted his exploits, cannot be rendered on paper, especially when he exclaimed, with closed teeth and the fingers of his round hand clenched, — “Pay me that money I” j He took the transcript and limped odt. In another day the hapless debtor, and or er match for all the regular thumb-screws of { tbs law, came in to beg piteously X would call off the blood-hound. I told him it was the creditor’s affair, not mine. Next day I met B the corner of Cortbndt street, looking! happy, and asked him how he sucoee haven’t got it yet,” was the reply. '*l found me out, but be has just paid rot lars to let him dine at the hotel dpi without roy company. Bow to Collect a Debt. From the Home Journal. A Pretty Good Story. ASD TBS BCST PART OF IT IS, IT IS TRUE, WHICH CAH’T WEIL RE SAID OF EVERY OOOD STORY. In one of oar southern seaboard cities, and on a long street—almost a road—leading there from to the country, “dwells an apothecary,” a rery tall and remarkably slender person—so thin, in fact that one would suppose he fed ex clusively on his own professional mixtures.— No tailor dare venture Ito cut a coat or any other garment in any way approaching a snug fit to his person, for fear of having the work returned on his hands, and in that case they would be found to fit nobody else. And yet, with this extraordinary paucity of flesh, there was a great supply of humor in our hero; he was extravagantly fond of practical jokes, and practiced them freely, when occasion and opportunity offered. He had an electric machine secluded from sight, and when any lazy person sauntered into his shop, and ven tured to indulge in a nap or lounge, he was sure to be shocked into activity and push off. He was a great advocate for temperance, and yet was ready to furnish gratis a briming glass of any sort of liquor any customer may fancy, but his liquor was found invariably to produce more nausea than any other sensation. But a contrivance which afforded him most merriment, was a skeleton of a full grown per eon in a closet, of easy access in his shop.— This skeleton was placed erect on a platform which ran on wheels ; and when the door was opened, this platform was pulled forward by an unseen thin wire or string, which connected with the belting of the closet door, f There were also similar wires, fastened-to the wall behind the skeleton, and, passing over each shoulder bone, were attached to the bones of the wrist. Consequently, when the closet door was opened the platform on which the skeleton stood, not only advanced, but both arms and hands were lifted upward ! If any intoxicated, noisy, boisterous, or Im pudent fellow came into his shop, the apothe cary would manage, in some way, to lead him to open that door; and it rarely failed (as he used to say) “to take the liquor and spunk out of him.” He had two or three apprenticed lads in his employ, who naturally relished these jokes, and practiced them, with his full consent when he might be absent. One day during his temporary absence a sailor came drifting along—occasionally stop ping and dancing a jig and singing; to the great merriment of a gang of boys, who fol lowed and surrounded him. He was.just drunk enough to play the fool, but not too drunk to navigate. He eventually brought up at the door of our apothecary, and bracing himself in the doorway, yelled out: '-“XJrAJd. ’“j- XwirtVs I h ore von are with your stuflecxpligators and gallipot, and mixins lor sick forks! Why the devil don’t you keep grog for tuff folks like me?” and here he shuffled off a rlgadoor, and made himself very merry. “Well, Jack,” said one of the lads, “what kind of grog do you want?” “I’ll take brandy,” was the prompt reply. re you ;ot my “Very well, go and help yourself; (handing him a tin mug,) “you will find it in that closet.” Jack went as directed, and pulling open the closet door found himself within grasping dis tance of an advancing skeleton ; he inconti nently fell back a step, dropped his tin cup, turned; ash color, made one spring to the door, and when he reached the street, took the mid dle of if, and ran like a deer till he reached a supposed safe distance. Shortly after this, our apothecary returned, and being informed of the event, was greatly amused, but sadly lamented bis absence. “I would not have missed seeing it,” said he, “for a great deal. I wonder if he will come back this way!’’ But this was not prob able, and yet it was the only way back to town. your often In the course of a few hours, however sure enough, Jack was seen at a distance on his way back, siugihg and dancing. Our apothecary hopefully anticipating an “encore," went out on his door-steps, and elevating his thin person, and extending his long emaciated arm and hand, very kindly beckoned to Jack to repeat his visit. Jack no sooner saw him than be “put his helm hard a port,” and sheered over to the other side of the street, buttoning his jacket over his breast, and pressing his tar-pole closer on his head, so as to be ready for a run if chase was given. “Aw-yey, old bag of bones,” says Jack; “there you are again, are you ? You think I don’t know you, now you’ve got your clothes on,” and away ha went on his course, leaving our apothecary rather puzzled in deciding which of the two got the sharpest end of that joke. Peter ms own Judge.— -The following amus ing incident communicated by a friend in Rox bury. Mass., occurred in a school in that city: “A lad, whom we will call Peter for the sake of a name, playing truant from the school, and wishing an excuse the next day, altered over an old note (which had been used for the same purpose on a former occasion,) by expunging the old date and substituting the present. The master immediately detected the trick, and in the presence of the school, impressed upon him the dangerous character of such frauds. lie then told Peter that he would leave him in the aisle for half an hour to reflect on this, and be his own judge as to the punishment due the of fence. The half hour having elapsed, the whole school was called to the “tflird position”—the attitude of attention—and the teacher said— “ Now, sir, yon yourself are the judge in this case; what is your decision ?” Peter hesitated a little, then, hanging bis head, pronounced in a whining voice, the following impartial ver dict :—“ Why, a* its the fret time I think you’d belter let the poor fellow go.” Old Jokes Versified.— At church. Job says, his manly heart With true devotion, swells. Disproving that,—as some assert,—He’s led there by the EeUes; While Jane, the happiest of coquettes. Whose eye no sorrow dims, bloat piously employs her trie Id looking for th« Bins, Surfing at mild and eded. “I He hasn’t iB five dol ►Wn there. DREAMING I wandered through tbo summer fields ■ , . All in IILA-bloe.-oad golden mom, - And J&o,Christ’s followers of old, , I plucked the ears of corn. High up a lark sang rnpturons hymns, Low daws, among the raiding stems. His brown mate listened, and the dew Set round her nest with gems. . 1 liid me down and dreamt and dreamt Of summer mornings in the land "Where you and X, dear love, went forth Each morning, hand in band. I thought athwart the tremulous tears I saw your blue eyes gleaming sweet, Through golden locks: alas ! 'twas but The corn-flowers ’mid the wheat 1 —Household Words. bon and Stock The mam distinction between iroa and steel is, one holds carbon, or the matter of charcoal, whereas the other doea/not. The amount of charcoal is trivial, and is'-ijnparted by heating bars fot a long period together, surrounded by powdered, broken charcoal in a box. Having regard, then,-to this operation, it seems natural enough that the outer portion of each bar should become more sfeelified (if I may be allowed to ooin an expressive word) than the internal por tion. Now, steel of this sort, though good for some purposes, is objectionable for others. To give an example, it is by no means good for the manufacture of watch-springs; nevertheless.. before the invention of cast steel, to which the! reader’s attention is directed, watch-springs bad to be made of it. There lived at Attercliffe, near Sheffield, about the year 1760, a watchmaker, named Huntsman. He was very much dissatisfied with the quality of steel of which watch-springs were made in his day, and he set himself to the task of thinking out the cause of inferiority.— Mr. Huntsman consequently inferred that the imperfection of such watch-springs as came in his way was referable to the fact of the irregu lar conversion or stceUfication of the metal of their manufacture. “If/* thought he, “I can melt a piece of steel and cast it into an Ingot, the composition latter should be regular and homogeneous.” He tried, and succeeded. The fame of Huntsman's steel became widely spread,'but the discoverer took care not to des ignate it by the name of cast steel, under which it is now familiarly known. This was his se cret. About the year 1770, a large manufacture of this peculiar steel was established at Atterolib’e. The process was wrapt in secrecy by every means which the inventor could command.— None bpt workmen of credit and character were engaged, and they were forbidden to dis close the secret of the manufactory by a strin gent form of oath. At length Huntstfian's se cret was stolen in the-followiug manner : • ‘ :~i.f •)« the foil the Attercliffe steel works belched forth its smoke, giving promise of a roaring fire within, a traveler, to whom the desire of placing him self near a roaring fire might seem a reasonable longing, knocked at the outer door of Mr. Huntsman’s factory. It was a bitter cold night; the snow fell fast, and the wind howled across the moor; nothing, then could seem more nat ural than that the tired wayfarer should seek a warm corner where he might lay his head.— He knocked, and the dnor was opened. A workman presented himself whom the wayfarer addressed, humbly begging admission. “No admittance here, except on business.” The reader may well fancy bow this intimation fell Upon the tired traveler’s ear on such an in clement night. But the workman, scanning the traveler over, and discovering nothing sus picious about him, granted the request and let him in. Feigning to be completely worn out with cold and fatigue, the wayfarer sank upon the floor of the comfortable factory, and soon appeared to have gone to sleep. To go to sleep however, was far from bis intention. The traveler closed his eyes all but two little chinks. Through these two little chinks he saw all that he cared to see. He saw workmen cut bars of steel into little bits, they place them in crucibles, and with enormous tongs pour their liquid into a mold. Mr. Huntsman’s factory had nothing to disclose. This leas the secret of cast sleet. It would bo easy to extend the list of man ufactured secrets disclosed in the dishonest way indicated above. The subject is so unpleasant to dwell upon, that I am sure the reader will rejoice with me that the circumstances under which manufactories are now carried on, neith er afford the opportunity nor the inducement to theft, such as I have described. —London Leis ure Hours. Gas Any one Tell.—Can any one tell how it is, that during these hard times, when everv merchant, manufacturer and mechanic is doing his utmost to keep his nose above water, our numerous drinking saloons are well sustained, and even new ones starting ? Can any one tell why men, who absolutely cannot pay small bills, can always find plenty of money to buy liquor and treat when happen ing among friends? Can'any one tell how young men who dodge their washer woman and are always behind with their landlords, can play biilards day and night, and are always ready for a game of ‘poker or ‘seven up V Can any one tell how lawyers who no cases, and doctors who ‘ have no practice manage to make the ends meet, or meet the ends ? Can any one toil how men live and support their families, who have no income and do not work, and why others who are industrious, and constantly employed half starve ? Can any one (ell how it is that a man who is too poor to pay three cents a week for a good weekly paper, is able to pay fifteen cents a day for 'tobacco and cigars, to say nothing of an occasional drink ? Can any one tell what interest we have in asking these questions which we know, no o;ie will answer ? In society, wholesales don’t mix with retails; raw wool doesn’t speak to halfpenny balls of worsted ; tallCw in the cask looks down upon sixes to the pound; and pig iron tutus op its roes at tenpenny nails. Rates of Advertising. Advertisements will be charged $1 per square of JO lines, one or three insertions; and 25 cents for every 'subsequent insertion* Advertisements of less than 10 lines considered os a square. Tbesnbjoined rates will be charged for Quarterly. Half-Yearly and Yearly, ad* ▼erUsemenis: Square, - 2 do. 3 do. i column, . £ do. Column, - Advertisements not having the number of insertion, desired marked upon them, will be published until o*. dered out and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbills, Bill. Heads, Letter-Heads and ail \ kinds of Jobbing done in country establishment*, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices', Constables*, and other BLANKS constantly on hand. m 5 Country lads often feel that their lot is a bard one; they see city bred youngsters on their sprees at the age of fourteen 1 veritable young gentlemen with a finished exterior, a cigar and a cane I The young farmer, at the same age, finds himself with a hoe in his hand and ifccheap straw hat on his bead, sweating among hills of corn. He is frequently envious of his city brother, whisking past him in the cars, with kid gloves, delicate ringlets, and plenty of money in bis pockets. ■ Mind your com, boy—hoe it out clean, keep steadily to the labor yon have in band, do it well, and in time your good days will come too. If you find farming not suited to your taste, or your strength, or to your circumstances; if you like mechaniafii better, or have a capacity for business, whatever else you may engage in, it is all the same, you have begun right. The city blades have begun wrong, and in due time you will see it, Tbeir fathers and mothers in the end will see it too. Do not feel envious of the pleasures that a hot house roan enjoys ; but remember, not in a malicious, but sober spirir, that such plants wither early. By thetimeyou have acquired fixed habits of industry, and ac quired a corresponding perfection of mind and body, your delicately-reared cotemporary of tho town' begins to feel the debilitating* effects of idleness and of dissipation. He is not alone to blame for a weak body and profitless mind ; it is the result of a .system ; but he cannot escape from its effects—‘these he must endure for him self, in his own person. Hia father may be a professional man, or a merchant, or may be merely rich; the chances are fifty against one that the son will not replace his father. Such is the result of well-settled experience; business falls into the bands of those who are most com petent, it does not descend to heirs. It is the country boys after all, who do the city business. Observing men have often stated this fact: and any one who will take a directory, and inquire iqto the origin of the business men of Cleve land, or Boston, or New York, will find it to be so. All external circumstances are in favor of the son or the plerk succeeding to tho trade of the old firm ; but the son seldom, almost never dies in the position of a partner of the house. Why js it? Simply because habitual industry is warning, and habitual indulgence is not want ing, with all the external odds against it, tb® counties furnish the cities their principal busi ness men. If intelligent, faithful and persever ing, and all, cheerful and contented, the chances are that the lad with the hoe will event ually do the business of the father of the lad in gloves, who is now luxuriating in his travels.— E. Farmer . 'When from my room X chance to stray to place tS3sl?'Wai?Vte lager beer. —Sacramento Age, Ah 1 yes, my friend of city life, sure such a treat cures such a strife, but better than such a dose by far, are pleasures of a fine cigar.— Placer Herald. Such pleasures may suit baser minds, but there the good no pleasure finds; we think the purest joy in life, is making love to one’s own wife.— Volcano ledger Most wise your choice my worthy friend, iu Hymen’s joys your cares to end, but we though tired of single life, and cannot boast of any wife, to drown our sorrows- quickly fly to kiss some girl that aint too shy. —-Xapa Reporter. That lager beer will bile provoke, while fine Havanas end in smoke, to court one’s-wife is better far than lager beer or vile cigar. Kisses, the dew of Love’s young morn, breaks on the lips as soon as born. These are all naught to the greatest joy—the first proud glance at yqnt first-born boy. —Evening Ledger. \ 'Tis true, a boy’s a wished-for blessing; but suppose the first’s a girl—a dear, sweet child* with ways caressing—with pouting lips and flaxen curl; with dimpled cheeks and laughing eye, to come and bid papa good-bye ; so, wheth er boy, or whether tother, embrace the babe and then the mother. —San Francisco Globe . Eccentricities. —Voltaire jwaa fond of mag nificent attire, and usually dressed in an absurd manner. Diderot once traveled from St. Pe tersburg to Paris in his niorning-gown and nightcap, and in this guise promenaded the streets and public places of the towns on hi* route. He was often token for a madman.— While composing bis works, he used to walk about at a rapid pace, making hnga strides, and sometimes throwing his wig in the air when he struck out a happy idea. One day, a friend found him in tears, “Good heavens’" he exclaimed, "what is the matter?” “I am weeping,” answered Dedriot, "at a story that I have just composed!” Wordsworth was deemed a madman by some of the villagers, by others a criminal in the dis guise of an idler. They affirmed that lie had been often seen to wander about at' night and "look rather strangely at the moon/' and that sometimes, " he would roam over the hills like a partridge/' Gray was a polite monk, the most learned' man of his day. His elegy is the most melodi es! poem in the language. He was a man of extreme taciturnity. It is said be was some times known to pass a whole day in company without uttering a word. Pat’s Ibu of Restitcttoit.— The fol owing conversation is said to have taken place between an Irishman and bis confessor. ‘Patrick, the wibow Malony tells me that yon have stolen one of the- finest pigs, is that so! ’ ‘Tes, yer honor. T: ‘What have yon done with it ?' ‘Rilled'it and ate it, yer honor.' ‘Oh Patrick, Patrick, when you are brought, face to face with the widow and her pig ob the Judgment Day. what account will yon, be able to give of yourself when the widow accuses you of the theft V ‘Did you say the pig would be there, yes riverence V ‘To he sure I did.’ ‘Well, then, yer rkeranoe. I’ll Say, Mrs onr, here’s ycf pig.’ , 3 MONTHS. 6 MONTHS. 12 MONTHS $3,00 $4,50 $6,00 5.00 6,50 8,00 1 7.00 8,50 10,00 8.00 9,50 12,50 15.00 20,00 30,00 25.00 35,00 60,00 Country Boys.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers