of Publication. COC-VTl' AGITATOR is publishers rfl Morning, and mailed to subscriber i>"S.»aUc pries of DOLLAR PER ANNUM,,®? lt is intended to notify every n ( e rm for which ho has paid shall j’.tf’', i, v tbo stamp—“Tike Out,” on the nmr paper. The paper will then he stopped ..!,i e r remittance bo received. By this ar cJ s,!t jo can be brought id debt to the irff . r ..ii:r. is the OfEciai Paper of the County, and steadily increasing circulation reach es 1 neighborhood in the County. It is sent t 0 any Post Office within the county most convenient post office may be i**Rising County. jr,r .!«c Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper inclu jfp»?ear-, business dieectoiiy. lS IOWBEf* S. F. WILSOJf, tVabSETS a COUNSELLORS AT LAW, will I 1 , the Court of Tioga, Pottor and McKean V.,f nVellsboro’.Feb. 1, 1853.] c-—^bTbROORS, rttiUVEF IjVD COUNSELLOR A.*V ii A IV EI.KLAXD. IXCKiA CO. PA , tb! nnimnde of CVuu.dor. there is safety.”— Etblt. iiaS.ltM.iy. . .PliAt EU & I’IIOUPSOJ, •JOT.NEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW. Corning, Steuben Co. N. V. ; J0 T. Spnvcam C. H. Thompson. jprll 13, 1835. —ly- ' 1)R. \V, W. WEBB. IFFICE over Cone’s Law Office, first.door below Farr’s Hotel. Nights he w.ll be found at his rifo ce, first dowabore the bridge on Mam Street, ar ds Samuel Dickinson’s- C. S. DARXT, POTISTi OFFICE at his residence near the Academy. All work pertaining to 'iiis line of business done promptly and [April 22, 1858.] •minted. DlCttlSSO* HOUSE .CXI 11 Xlx u , N. Y. r, Xoe, Proprietor. : L'lki-i: to and from the Depot free of charge. fix JSUTASU HOUSE ' WELLSBOKO’, PA. L. D. TAYLOR, PROPRIETOR. popular bouse is centrally located, and to the patronage of tbe tra\ elling public. jT/.i.vos. ly. American hotel CORNING, n. y., g FREEMAN, - - - - Proprietor. r >, °5 cts. Lodgings, 25 cts. Board, 75 cts. per day. fj'ning, March SI, 1559. will be spared for the accommodation tp’jiiurc seekers and the traveling public, ipn! 14, ISj'J. fOI'DERSPORT HOTEL CUCDKIISPOKT POTTER CO.. PENNA. D, P. Glassmirc, - - Proprietor. rtiS lIU'ILL i> located within an hour's drive of iw head waters of the Allegheny, Genesee, and Liscbauua rivers. Xo efforts are spared to make ib tcc for pleasure seekers during thetroutlng sea uicd for the traveling public at all times, h: 27, 1559, ly. | WHS B. SHAEESPEAR, 1 TAILOR, HWINd opened bis shop in ’ the room over iVm Roberta Tin Shop, respectfully informs tho -~tn onVellaboro’ and vicinity, that he is prepared ’•i cute eiders in his line of business with prompt '-uaJ de*patth Cultlny dune im ehurt notice. IV-i-Wo, Uct. 21, IS5S.—6m WATCHES! WATCHES! rUB .'•ahscrilcr has pot a fine assortment of heavy K SLUSH LEVER HUNTER-CASE Gold and Silver Watches, he will sell cheaper than “ dirt’' on v< Ti , mc/ i. e. -*-I sell ‘Time Pieces’ on a short (approved j'feredit. Ifi kinds of UEPAIUIN(t done promptly.*. If a . W'Tk js n f,t don e j 0 the satisfaction of the party u, no c barge will ho made. • L<: tmur. appreciated and a contiuance of patron- Vcadly solicited. ANDIE FOLEV. June 24, IS4S. CORAfI.TG BOOK STORE. THE Mibscrihers have removed to tho largb and t’cqaiuly fitted up Brick Store —four doors east I * ,3llu rt block, Corning—and will keep on hand a *t* wsortiucnt of New Books, among which arc Religious Standard Works, . IItjTuUICAL BOOKS, «£« ny }ic!iu)i. I‘octival Work*, School Book», SHEET MUSIC, -ot«. Mntjon.cry am] Wall Paper, N. V. Daily and papers, all the Magazines at mi. Publishers prices. cheap. KOBINSON Jk CO. 21, *57. WM.-TERBELL, COUXIXO. S. Y. wholesale and Retail Dealer, in ‘• ''it '( Lead, Zinc, and Colored •*'l' / ’ * Cawphenc and JJnnnufj V' and Glass, J*urc Liquors far fa ' n ' , ' l( ' ,tf -V' dir incs, Artists Paint* and Brushes, • ai ‘ t:n J' druici/ Articles, Flavarivnj Extracts, &c., . A I.SO, a.-fortment of School Books— fcl.mk Bu.iks, Staple anti Fancy h?t-v Stationary. ru ?-*' ts and Country Merchants-jieaUng Urj" ° a * ,,, ' u ‘‘Articles can be supplied at a small Xeir York prices. [Sept. 22, 1857.] sr iSWEMD TIN SIMP! HOY'S DRUG STORE.L®} Kre Jt° u m J I U, J Stoves , Tin, and Japanned “ rc f (ir onc-halj' the usual prices. *£vi.^ evutc< l Oven Cook Stov& and Trim &!’ 00 - i Till and Hardware ' Ready Pay. fctiU anj 1 ' a oue wan * s anything in this line WjIV / e » uur P?‘ cea before purchasing elsewhere. place—two doors south of Farr’s Ho- Drusst ° rc * calland see! ■ D ' EEMlfr Gr, anTlonn ce to the people of Tioga County ;*cfc.cj, Pi i-pireeculuous Al ' u Currunts. Raspberries. Gooseberries, r**- ua of all now ami approved \ari % < - w,M ’ s t«ng of Ilybrld, Perpetual and Snm f^l^^rcinT.. ,n * ir J 1 ‘ ofce *’ Bourbon. Noisette, Tea, JUn T>n ’ and limbing Ro&es. i BBRR. Y — luclnding all the finest tfeW ta hT 14 - Lilacs r„ . „ rifles of Altbeo, Cajycantbas, f Tfynrr n l^ irath ’ Syringias. Viburnums, WiglHas Ac. WIS—^ aeon,ca > UahKafe, Phloxes. TnKp*,. Uyaciuths, Narciuhis; Jonquils. LH fifties. U L\T. i . B rsl t r a ' VbC,rr3 '- ' 4JOZ ' l ” ant "’* s - . ' , , r /' r4^in S' BmMing or Pruning will bo •* ‘ ' J A’l’irocs Hv I?. L A IMI.VC. Welfcbcro, pa. THE AGITATOR BeholeDr to *De fEXUnnion of tfle Hvm of ifmOom mi 3r tftt SpreaO of Reform. WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAljl’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. VOL. VI. I POUND DEAD BV ALB EHT LAIBHTOB Pound dead—diad and alone! There was nobody near, nobody near, When the outcast died on hie pillow of stone. No mother, no brother, no sister dear, Not a friendly voice to soothe or iheer. Not a watching eye or a pitying tearj Found dead—dead and alone, In the roofless street, on a pillow of stone. Many a weary day went by. While wretched and worn ho begged for bread. Tired of life and longing to lie Peacefully down with the silent dead; Hunger and cold, and scorn and pais. Had wasted his form and seared his brain, Till at last on the bed of frozen ground, With a pillow of stone, was the outcast found. Pound dead—dead and alone, , On a pillow of stone in the roofless street j Nobody heard his rough, faint moan, Or knew when his sad heart ceosed to beatj Mo mourner lingered with tears or sighs, But the stars looked down with pitying eyes, And th© chill winds passed with a wailing sound. O’er the lone spot where his form was found. Found dead—yet not alone; There was somebody near, somebody near. To claim the wanderer as his own, And find a home for the homeless here; One, when every human door Is closed to his children, scorned and poor, Who opens the Heavenly-portals wide— Ah, God was near when the outcast died! The Cavern. A REMI.VISCE.VCE OF 7VCA.TAS. The guide, a tall and muscular native, held up his torch, as we paused, sick and giddy, on the dripping rocks at the foot of the mighty grotto. Heretofore we hardly dared even to breathe; we had mechanically clung to the rugged logs which for seventy or eighty feet had been our only dependence, the dizzy and almost perpendicular height which we had de scended frowned gloomily upon us, and the boldest of us could hardly repress a shudder, as wo heheld the dangers wo had so successfully passed. Many perils both by sea and land had beset our way, and we had endured them without a thought, but this descending into the very bowels of the earth—this treading on sound rocks where tbe blessed light of sun or moon had never entered; the subterranean echoes catching our slightest whispers, and sending them reverberating from crag to crag, like the fiendish mocking of evil spirits ; it was appall ing ! Even the light-hearted Carleton was si lent and pale, and our very breath wag drawn softly, as-if we feared to wake some slumber ing satyr or gnomo beneath our feet. It was a sublime and picturesque tout ensem ble for an artist pencil, the red lurid glare of the torch reflected from the thousand glittering points of rock and gigantic crags, and gleam ing suddenly on the dark, deep waters at our feet. Thera was our pale and shuddering group —the stately figure of our guide with his droop ing palmetto, and the unconscious grace of his attitude—the vast outlines of cavernous depth —the rude ladder of logs, and the scattered figures slowly descending this singular high way ! Among the black masses of shadow, you could just discern yawning and gloomy arc.hes, which the guide told us led into an opon space where were the sources of nine deep wells, to and from which busy water carriers were traveling continually. “So this, said Carleton, in a bland tone, scarcely above a whisper, “is the dreadful cavern where the maiden concealed herself so long. I wonder why “Some love affair, you may depend ,” said Walker. “What is that quotation of Scott’s? Love rules the court, the camp, the grove; and why shouldn’t love rule the untutored breast of the maid of Yucatan !” “At all events,” observed I, “our maiden showed a remarkable taste for the sublime and picturesque, when she chose this rocky re treat. See the torchlight quivering among those fine old rocks 1” “I don’t know,” said Carleton, “it is mag nificent —but how chilling a splendor!, It is like the keen starlight of the Artie Zone, among icebergs of northern seas.—Just think of the tropical light and radiance above; just think of tlio palm trees and agaves waving over our heads—the noonday glow of this southern clime ; and then look around at the gloom and silence of this horrid spot! Walker it makes me think of the tomb !” Walker leaned smilingly forward to peep under the broad palmetto that hung over Car leton’s brow! Look at him, Lindsay! how pale he is !” he cried gaily: “who would have thought our light hearted Carleton could be so effected by a tumble down old cave 1” I smiled and made some light remark not to J embarrass Carle ton farther, but I confess to being somewhat surprised at this unusual gloom of our gay spirited and youthful young friend, whose constant flow of vivacity had given such a zest to our entire journey. The guide stood looking from one to another, his large southern eyes dilated, with a sort of wistful curiosity, to critch the foreign accents of our tongue, and slowly swinging his torch from aide to side.—Then, as we ceased speak ing, he began to relate, in his soft musical pa thos, the romance of the cave—the tale of the Indian maiden who had sought refuge from tyranny among those hollow rocks, and whose young bloom aqfi beauty had pined away in £be eternal darkness rind sepulchral atmosphere of this awful place; and how many curious spec tators had preceded us on, these very rocks, pointing to the busy water carriers."* We too, by the way, in assuming the more sntabtc dress of the peasants had moved the huge stone wa ter jugs in a moment of sport, and were hearti ly tired of their empty weight by this time. “Are there not many accidents?" inquired Carleton, in k low voice. “Accidents! the sonor could not count them in a day. There are as ma*ny as the leaves on the tree !”* One might make a very readable romance out of these scraps of Indian tradition,” observed Walker,- looking around as he sat idly on the rock; “there is something very sublime in tVte idea of that young girl among the solemn bid crags and waters. Lindessy, I have an idea 1 WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 6, 1859. I’ll paint a picture when I get home, and ca 1 it “The maid of the cavern,” “And whose fr ' - face is to represent the her oine ?" “I don’t know—Carleton’s black eyed sistnr will sit for me I suppose." I glanced toward Carleton with a smile but instead of returning my look, he gazed fired ly on the waters and was very pale. “Lindesay,” he whispered, do you believe in presentiments ? I have such a strange forel o ding at my heart.” “I dont know what you mean,” I return 2d lightly. “I bare a presentiment thot, if X mice get out of this place, I shall ignore all cave and caverns for ever more in future. It is rather too appalling a business.” _ ’ The senor must look at tho different prosp lo ts," insinuated our guide, as we rose "you have not seen the half of our wonders.” We passed along the usual route, rather more to satisfy the guide’s apparent desire than our own curiosity, for we were in haste to escape from the gloomy place, whose dim heavy atmosphere pressed like a leaden weight upon our lungs. Never were mortals more relieved than we when at length wo reached the ladder of logs once more. “And now hurrah for daylight !” cries Walk er, waving his hat, and commencing the asee nt. 1 hastened after, Carleton came last, follov ed at a little distance by the guide. We left )ur stone jugs behind at the mercy of any stray water carrier who might happen to approp rite them not choosing to be any longer encumbered by their weight. I We had not half scaled the ladder when] guide called to us to observe the effect of to among the vast and stupendous crags by wli we were surrounded. In waving it backwai and forwards, to watch the hasty step of li and shade produced by this manoeuvre, hej guardedly dropped his torch. It fell dq down, until with a hollow sound it shot >5 the dark tides below, and was extinguished*, instinctively closed my eyes as it fell, and the pale dim light of another torch, far bel I could just see that Carleton tottered Ji trembled. I “Look upward, senor!’’ shrieked the gi “To the sky! For the love of Heaven, up !” His fearful scream was re-echoed by us both, as our companion slowly swayed backwards and forwards for an instant, and then with a low shuddering cry lost his hold and fell. . The deep and sudden splash was all we heard--the bubble of tnrpid waters, and then a horror stricken hush fell upon every human being in the cave. My grasp slackened—a thick dark ness came over my sight, and, for a momi nt, I too, seemed to leave all consciousness, except of a white and teror struck face above me—that of Walker! I never knew how it was—tc this day I cannot tell how 1 reached a phceof safety, but the first that I remembered, we were crouching together on the platform on the top ladder, our hands clasped before our eyes, as if to shut out some terrible vision. Yet the brow of Carfeton, when two afterwards, they brought him out for was fair and beautiful as that of a child, not know when the guides discovered the c< I believe that there was instantaneous » which for some time proved unavailing,) could not frame my trembling lips to ask! gle question he was.silently brought fron heavy darkness bciow, into tha sunshinj silently placed in our arms. That evening, at sunset, a bright haired American youth was laid in his tropical grave, among the palm trees of Yucatan, with two sincere mourners standing at the head, and sighing to think how they should bear the news to those at home. , In the background a group of Indians were commenting on the early doom of the dead. 1 “The senor was very young,” murtnl comely women who leaned against a tij near by. “Perhaps he had a mother northern land. Holy Virgin 1 and she sea his grave!” There was a world of pathos in her words! For months afterwards, I never my eyes without beholding a dreadful tasmagoria of the crags and rocks cl dreadful grotto. I never fell asleep but I with a start, hearing the dying cry of ni; panion in my ears. It haunted me like a and to this day I cannot revert without a dcr to the subterranean shadows and bri gloom of that lonely cavern of Yucatan. Sold Cheap. —Old uncle John Johnsoi out in Chicago. lie came from the *r steady habits,” a long time ago, and wi right glad to see the friends he had left c bub it was a long way to go, and be vj and stiff in the joints, lie sent bis soi to visit, and bring him a full report of folks he once knew. Tom was right make the trip, but when he got to Nor soon found the girls so agreeable, that got all the old cronies his father wantec hunt and went back after a month His father asked him about his old n Perkins, but Tom didn’t recollect the n! “Well, how is Deacon Huntingdon Tom hadn’t seen the Beacon.- “Did you see Mr. Rockwell V “Ni had missed seeing him. And so the went on with bis questions, till he s Tom had been fooling him. Once : “Did you see old Parson Noy Tom thought it was nboirt time to h somebody,- and said promptly, “0. J first rate—sends lots of love—wants tc badly.” “Ob, murder!” gasped the old mai little pesky rascal, Parson Noyes has 1 these forty years.” Tom subsided. A Boston paper says that many; the whole rown of Nabant was purchc suit of clothes, and that then its only tants were wolves, anti deS'r; The asm said of the inhabitants now, only tli are in sheep’s clothing-and: the dears i line. Never give out that which dues come.- Not One of Them ar Sort. The New Orleans Delia felts the following good one: At a session of the Circuit Court of Missis sippi, in some country town, the lawyers who were in attendance were in the habit of putting up at a house of entertainment kept by a buxom widow lady, of very high sense of propriety, and great dignity of deportment. The lady always presided at the bead of the table during meals, and the place of honor on her right was regarded as due to the most staid, proper and elderly member of the Bar. By unanimous consent of the lawyers. Col. B——, a very modest, discreet, and pious coun sellor, was selected for the distinction. Now, though possessing many sterling virtues, Col. B possessed one weakness, but it was not a weakness of the head or of the heart but of the eyelid. He bad the habit of winking incessantly and involuntarily, which, with persons who did not know the cause of it, left an unfavorable im pression of the Colonel’s seriousness and sin cerity. He was eternally being suspected of what he was the last man to conceive of, to wit —a design of joking or quizzing everybody, all on account of the perpetual motion of bis eyelids. When, on the first occasion the Colonel took possession of the seat nearest to “mine host ess,” his bland and amiable expression and dignified address created quite a favorable im pression upon her ladyship. The soup was over, and the hostess began to ply the Colonel with various tempting dishes, all of which he accepted or declined, with a pleasant smile, and with bis invariable wink. At last it was perceptible to the company, that the hostess was eyeing her distinguished guest rather in quiringly and significantly; these glances were always met by the Colonel with his usual smile and wink. But these amiable demonstrations were far from producing the effect designed upon Madam, who began to frown and look very threateningly at the innocent Colonel, who only smiled and winked the more fascinatingly. Finally, however, to the very great horror of the Bar, and the utter annihilation of the wor thy Colonel the hostess slapped the table in dignantly with her right hand, and fixing her eyes very pointedly and fiercely upon the ob ject of her wrath cried out at the top of her voice: jthe orch liich irds, jght ifun- tby low, land lide. look “You sanctified, weazen-faced old villain. I’ll let you know I’m not one of them ar sort!” What might have followed this explosion of wrath, it would be impossible to conjecture, as the unfortunate possessor of the weak eyelids decamped in haste from the post of honor, and never after could be persuaded to act the agree able to buxom widows. An Exquisite Retort. - ! It is related of Bunyan that, in the height of his usefulness in and about London, the bishop of the metropolis had a curiosity to see him. The coachman of the bishop was a fre quent hearer of Bunyan, and the bishop had told him that, whenever in riding out of town, he should chance to meet Mr. Bunyan, he wished to see and speak with him. One day, as John was driving his lordship in a portion of the suburbs, Banyan was seen plodding hie way on foot, with his bundle under bis arm, going out to preach somewere in the outskirts. “Your grace," said John, “here comes Mr. Bunyan.” “Ah !” said the’ bishop ; hold up the horses when you overtake him, and-let me speak to him." tours furial Ido prpse. parch but I ia sin- m the ile and They were soon at his side, the horses were checked, and the bishop bowed, saying-: “Mr. Bunyan, I belive !” “Yes your grace,” said Bunyan, courteously responding. lured a jll tree in the ;anDot “Mr. Bunyan," said the bishop, “I am told you are very ingenious as aa interpreter of the Scriptures, and I have a difficult passage in my mind, about which the critics are in dispute, and of which I would be glad to have your view. It is St. Paul’s message to Timothy: "The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou oomest, bring with thee; and the books, especially the parchments." “Well your grace,” replied Bunyan, “it is allowed, I believe, by all, that Timothy was a bishop of the primitive church and Paul, as all agree, was a traveling preacher. It appears to roe this may have been designed in future days, to teach that in primitive times the bishops were accustomed to wait upon the traveling preachers; whereas, in the bishops ride in their coaches, and the traveling preach ers, like Paul, are minded to go 'afoot simple : closed phan f that waked y com i, spell; i shud ooding m lives |land of puld be behind; fas old, p, Tom, | all the glad to pich, fao I he for -1 him to ’a visit. Haven’t Got Any of Yoult Size.—Any one who has lived in Cincinnati (writes Brads) for ten or fifteen years, will remember E , the tailor, one of the oldest and best of his craft, as well as one of the jolliest, always as ready to take a joke as to give one. It used to be considered the “fair thing” among a “select party” to send persons to his store for articles at variance with what usually cbbstitutes the stock in trade of members of his profession. It so happened one day, as one of the “party” above mentioned; was descending the steps of the the Burnett House, he encountered a speci men of Kentucky, who enquired of him where he could purchase a jewsharp. Of course he was directed to E -a store, as the establish ment where they kept the largest assortment at the most reasonable prices. Our friend pro ceeded at once to the place indicated, and found E (who, by the way, was troubled with an impediment of speech,) waiting on a cus tomer, and after stating his wants, was politely requested to “w-wait a few mo-moments.”— After dispatching bis business with the afore said customer he, gravely approached Kentucky with a pair of glove stretchers,■ and observed •in a very mild tone, “W-we shall h-have to t-t-take' your mum-mum-measure,” whereupon he inserted the stretcher into his mouth, spread* ing open hia countenance to the full extent of the “stretch,” and with a face indicating the utmost seriousness, remarked to the astonished Kentuckian, “Y-yonng man, tr-ee- -harertt ge!r ger-get any cf y-your eighbor ame. But Tom )ld man saw that more be os?” ave seen ■iss; he’s see you . “You een dead years ago ised for a y inhabi e may be e wolves in crino- not firs The Blind Spy. A TALE OP THE DAM OLD SPASMODIC AQEIII BY BYLYBSTtH AKAOMONIMf, JR. Night upon a battle field I In a tentj guarded by five Zouaves, sat aronnd a mosaic table, General Washington, Moham med and Julius Caesar. They were command ers of the allied forces at the siege of Jerusalem. It was evident, from the appearance of the ta ble, that they had been playing faro and drink ing lager bier. “Hist!” suddenly exclaimed General Wash ington, pointing bis finger to his lip. “Aha!" quoth Mohammed, spitting out a volume of the Koran, hearing the imprint of Harper, Brothers. “Hum 1” squeaked Julius Caesar, placing his finger to his nose, a la Florence Hotel. A Zouave at this juncture put his head in the tent and said, “The murderer of T>i. Burdell is discovered.” “Then order the garrison to arms!” cried General Washington, “and let the Miiwaukie Light Guard hold Pike’s Peak until the Hor ace Greeley cavalry charge the Caucasians in the rear.” “Don’t you think. General, that if the Min ie battering ram, such as I used with Nelson, at Trafalgar, were ordered up, it would be bet ter?” said Julius Cmsar. “Bring in Flora Temple, and I myself will ride to the scene of action,” exclaimed Moham med. “Bring me a Colt’s revolver and I will off." “Hist!” said another Zouave, putting in his head, “it is not the murderer of Dr. Burdell, it is the Blind Spy who approaches.” The allied generals fell to the ground in a fit, which was only relieved by the entrance of the Blind Spy 1 Taking from his pocket a bottle of Burnett's Coccoaim:, he sprinkled it and said, “My master, Socrktes, bids you surren der, or he will send you all to the Mammoth Cave as prisoners of war.” (To be continued.) The Oath of a House Thief.— Two men, D. A. Roush, and J. F. Holley from Cincinnati, were sent to prison in Louisville a few days ago on suspicion of horse stealing, having shipped a fine stallion the day previous. Roush’s conduct, such as appearing in false whiskers and the like, caused his arrest. On bis parson was found the following' oath, which would indicate be is one of an organized band of horse thieves. In tbs name of the Power above, and in the name of all his hosts of angels and ministers, whom I invoke to bear record of my words ; in the name of him below, whom we fear and whom we hate, I swear. I swear that from this moment to the end of my life to devote myself, without any reserve, to the fancy reform ; that I will never leave it without the permission of my captain ; that in sickness or in health, in adversity of in prosper ity, I will never leave, quit without theconsent of my captain, even unto death, in all transac tions ; I will be bound by the laws he has es tablished and with the regulations he has made; and I invoke these powers, in the event of my failing to fulfil this, my oath, to shower down all the ills of which human nature is suscepti ble ; may all the maladies’ in which lingering wretches who crave to die still exist be myfate; may my days he restless, my nights sleepless, the pains and ftgonies of hell goad me on to des peration, my limbs wither from my body, my body paralyzed with sickness, my breath tain ted, my eyeballs sightless, my soul damned if I fail in anything I have sworn ; but I implore that power to shower upon me ten thousand times the miseries that mortals ever imagined, if I, by word, thought, deed or design, betray one of my brethren or captain, or raise my hand or voice to witness against them in a court of justice, maw my tongue rot from its root to the lip, and leave me a speechless liar, if 1 am in this guilty; hut I swear to state all that is false, unless the truth can benefit the prisoner; to this, in all and eveay part, I swear; to every word and sentence I swear, by him above, by him below, by all that rules, by all that serves, I swear. Pursic.u. BEXErri of ftiE Sabbath. —-'The Sabbath is God’s special present to the wor king man, and one of his chief objects is to prolong his life, and preserve efficient his work ing tone, In the vital system it acts like a compensation pond; it replenishes the spirits, the elasticity and vigor, whach the last six have drained away, and supplicJ the force which ia to fill the six days suocieding; and, in the economy of existence; it apsvferd the same pur pose as, in the economy of income, is answered by a savings bank. The frugal man puts away a pound to-day and another pound next month, and who, in a quiet way, is putting by his sta ted pound from time to time, when he grows old and frail, gets not only the same pound back again, but a good many pounds besides. And the conscientious man, who husbands one day of his existence every week—who, instead of allowing the Sabbath to be trampled alTdTdrn in the bury and scramble of life, treasures it devountly up, the Lord of the Sabbath keeps it for him, and. in the length of days, the hale old age gives it back with usury. The savings hank of human existence is the weekly Sab bath.—[A'oi tt British Jieview. New itecelalion in Geology and Thiologg:- A correspondent at Erie sends us the following juvenile dialogue which’ recently occurred in that city, between the son and daughter (aged respectively nine and seven years) of a Meth odist minister, showii’g the physical aiitf nVornl difference between men and woman, as they saw it in geology and theology; Lillie Roy.—" l wonder what makes the Paps so much crasser than the Mama 7” Lille Girl. —“if gtfes’s it’s because the Lord sifted the dust, and made the Paps out of the bran, and the Mams out of the fine dust!” Little Roy. —“ Will I bq- A Pap when I get big,—and be cross, too ?” Little Girl. —-“I expect so.” ■Little Boy. —(Meditatively) “No I shan’t be a Pap ;”*-*-evideotly unwilling to believe him -1 ietf mirth) oat of the Bran.' Rates of Advertising. Advertisements will be ebaraed sqtmre of 10 lines,’one or three insertions, and 25 cents for every subsequent insertion.. Advertisements of Icj-s iban 10 Hoes considered as a square. Thesubjojced jnleMt ill be charged for Quarterly, Half-Tearly_and Yearly ad vertisements Square, 1 2 do. 3 dp. i column, - } do. Column, - .Advertisements not having thenumbcrof insertion* desired marked upon them, will be published until or dered out and charged accordingly.. . Posters, Handbills, BUI-lteads x Letter-Heads and > ll kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices', Constables’! and other BLANKS constantly on band. m. ia. The Difference between French and scan Brandy; The Cheater county, Pa., Times is responsi ble for the following: A gentleman of our acquaintance wished to purchase some brandy to be used in sickness; and,cal led on nn old German liquor dealer in the city of Philadelphia, when the following dialogue ensued: “Have you any imported brandy—genuine stuff?” “Very good brandy. Come and trink sortie claret punch ; dat ish goot, too, yen do vedder ish hot.” “No, I thank you, I want a little brandy fur a sick man.” “Come and try de punch. One yrlend from Germany been here. I see him not befoio; for many years. We been trinkin de pumdi.” “Come and tell me about the brandy. I want a little of the best in the market:” The old gentleman was a little mellow—just, enough to make him talkative ; and the visit of his friend had so warmed his sympathies as to make Him communicative. . •‘Now, my vriend, you wants good prandy; and I sells you good prandy. Dare i*h some prandy I makes myself and dat ish gui*d.—' Dere ish some X pought in New York, ami dut ish sheap prandy. Dere is some imported front Vrancejind dat ish very goot too.” “Did you say you made that lot yourself?” “Dat I make myself, and I warrants dat. It ish made of the verre best whisky.” “Whisky! I don’t want any of your infer nal concoctions made of whisky and called brandy,” ! (Old gentleman solemnly.) “It ish all made of whisky, vriend, and dat ish de reaMjn why de Trench brandy is not sogoot as gnot Atneii can prandy. No prandy ish now distilled from wine any more; it is not possible to make ic sheap enough'for dis market from wine, anjil do American people do not like the real prandy because they are not used to it.” “Did you say that Drench brandy is not as good as our own manufacture? We import some brandy from France, do we not?” “0, we import blenty of prandy to please do rich people, but it ish not goot. In France, do prandy ish made of potato whisky, and dat isli not as goot as de corn whisky what we makes into prandy here I” Away up in the northern part of Vermont,' says the Knickerbocker , is a primitive sort of little village, called “The, Centre.” Here, not long since, the rustic youth of the vicinity con gregated for a “dance,” and dance they did,' said our informant, “with an .unction unknowrt to our city belles and beaus.” One interesting young man, having “im-. bibed” rather too freely,, became “fatigued” in the course of the evening, and wisely con cluded to “retire” for a short rest. A door ajar near the dance-ball revealed, in-, vitingly, a glimpse of a comfortable bed, of •which he took pesscssion with a prospect of an undisturbed “snooze.” Ifc so happened, howbcit, that this was the ladies withdrawing-rocm, and no sooner had ho closed his eyes, than a pair of blooming danfc sels came in from the hall, and began adjusting their disordered ringlets, the dim-light of tho tallow candle not disclosing the tenant of the bed. The girls had tongues, (like most of their sex,) which ran on in this wise: “What a nice dance we’re having! Ilavo you heard anybody say anything about me,’ Jane ?” - “La, yes, Sally I Jim Brown says he never see you look so handsome as you do to-night,' Have you heard anybody say anything about me?” “About you 1 why, sartin ; I heard Joe Flint tell Sam Jones that you was the /pvettic&t dressed girl in the room.” • Whereupon the dear things chuckled, “fixed iip” a little more; and made off towards the ball-room. They had hardly reached the door when our half-conscious friend raised himself upon his elbow, and quite intelligibly, though slowly ihcjhired— “Ha* you heard any bony say anything about me, girls?” “Phansy their phelinks” at this juncture They fled with an explosive scream. In Pennsylvania there is' a clergyman almost as remarkable for eloquence and except ricsty as Lorenzo Low himself. On charity his pathos, wit,‘and sometimes bitter satire, sue §ure to win more bank notes and gold coin t»»'. the State than the decorous eloquence of half a dozen other men. On a late occasion I.c \\a> preaching a temperance sermon, which pro duced unusual effect on the audience. Among other things, he asserted, as the result i.f lu-I own observation, that a confessedly “modeialii drinker” was sure to become a confirmed ine briate within five years after he had reached that stage of indulgence. He was here interrupted by a man in the au dience, who started up in great excitement, proclaiming himself a moderate drinker, oj tjV years standing, and one on whom the u.ihii made no progress. The clergyman stopped short, leaned over tfre pulpit, and wfion the man had ceased ing. called out: “I stand up here, and lot me have a look at you.” The min made an effort to bravo the of eyes turned upon him, and Stood Ids ground. ‘‘Xcarer, man 1” cried the minister heiS.m'- ing with his long linger, "Hold a light up to this brother’s face some of you. Step up on the bench arid give us a good look.” , The moderate, drinker was not to he looked down or talked down, and not only mounted the bench, but allowed a lamp jo he held chisd to hli face. , I The mfnistef bent over lub cushion, anil gave’ {fife face a long survey. “That trill do,” he said drawing back, ■•ihat will do my friend, and now I say, if I owed the' devil a debt ojf a hundred drunkards, and had paid him nioety-nine, and he wouldn’t lake you in full daymen! at tin? u’id'.d' 3Ve yea.>, 1* AouiJ never pay hi a. '.' J 3 MONTHS. $ MONTHS. 12 .MONTHS $3,00 $4,50 $O,OO 5,D0 6,50 B.W) 7.00 8,56 mod : 8.00 9,50 12.50 I 15,00 20,00 30.00 25,00 35,00 Frightening- the Girls. Pulpit Wit. 50*00