'of Publication. ' - ' r rFfTT A PIT A THD A JLl Jji Aul 1 A i U_tl be' received. By this ar ">l,r ‘ b man can be brought in debt to the >:t c ° m Tfl n i-- the Official Paper of the County, uteadilv increasing circulation renoh il-f't neighborhood in the County. Itis sent toany Post Office within th« county 'ffX-=c most convenient post office may to 5/is ‘r^.°not 3 «ceeding 5 lines, paper inclu £j!.e ’ glss DIRECTORY. rfoWBEY * s. P. WILSOJr, 1 \CVFTS .t COUNSELLORS AT LAW, win , rhe Court of Tioga, Potter and McKean nfcllihorc'. Feb. 1,1853.] k; b. brooks, ; »V>V 4XD COUNSELLOR AT LAW " BlWn'I), TIOGA 00. PA. * ; njnrfo of Counselors there is safety.”— BtNe. . fr * DbTwTw. WEBB. N -- , v pr Cone’s Law Office, first door below j’ljff l , Sights he will be found at his door above tho bridge on Main Street, dautx, dentist, -■ i ' at his residence near the rggS? I I Ai-.idcuo’- work pertaining to \ fcmy i,*T< e of business done promptly and f - [April 22, 1858.] panted niC*«* SOM HOIJSE COKSISG, N. Y. .. Proprietor, ;;j tffci, the Depot free of charge. MI A HOUSE *' WELIFBOUO’, PA. L D. TAYLOR, PROPRIETOR. ' lh t’l'i'ul.ir house in centrally located, and the jMtrojinge of the travelling public. utU-k UJEBICAJi HOXEt, ' ' cull SI N.T., t FREEMAN, - - - - Proprietor. K- v . 5 .t5. L ..Isms'!, 25 cu. Board, 75 cts. per day, WHITTAKER, Hyirop'ilkic J'lnjxi'-ion and Surgeon. 'jmiSD. I lOC A CO., PENN A. I n ,n patients in all parts of tho County, orro liem fur treatment nt his house. [June 14,] | B. O. COL E, jiRBEII AS I) JIAIR-URESSER. I' -s.jp in the roar of the Post Office. Everything in will he donc as and promptly as it is the city saloons. Preparations for re 15-*.?,I 5 -*.?, dwdruif, and beautifying the hair, for sale Hair and wbir-kers dyed any color. Call and P" /Velhboro, Sept. 22, 1859. GAINES HOTEL. VEU.VILYEA, PROPRIETOR. Gaines, Tioga Comity, Pa. 'air well known hotel is located within easy access [ittin beslfisiiingandhuntinggrounds in North’rn , f) pome will be spared for the accommodation KSte seekers and the traveling public. Hll.lfH'. THE COMING JOURNAL. Isrgt W. Pratt, Editor and Proprietor. V .cl at Corning, Steuben Co., N. Y., at One W aaJ Fifty Cents per year, in advance. The ml is Republican in politics, and has a circula recVing into every part of Steuben County.— slrirons of extending their business into that Cish.ining counties will find it an excellent ad .... i1,,i 1 ,;,u. Address as above. (OIDERSPOBT HOTEL. ■ r.ifDEHSPORT POTTER CO., PENNA. ;f, Glassmire, - - Proprietor. Fib 11"!111. is located within an hour’s drive o I .■.'no waters of tho Allegheny, Genesee, and < ~a rl.crs. No cfl'orts are spared to make ■ r* for pleasure seekers, during the troutiug sca ld f r ike traveling public at all times, c.;;, lii'.i, ly. , JOHN B. SHAKESPEAR, TAILOR. pVINr. upor.cd his shop in tho room over 1 IF'-i. K“krls Tin Shop, respectfully informs the ■- f vrl ll-1 i-.r .mu \ icinity, that he is prepared unit-- ii. his line of business with prompt -Jv.ltlcrputch V ■‘(’ut'j dune on thort notice. >ru. Oct. 21, ISSS.—Cm WATCHES! WATCHES! Pi’ NiWrilipr has pot a fine aasortment of heavy i .EXhU.’SH LEVER HUNTER-CASE Gold and Silver Watches, will sell cheaper than "dirt" on 'Time/ i. e. ir ’’- ’i •Time Pieces’on a short (approved) credit, i- UeJ? ef IU’PAIUIXti done promptly. If a ’ »<rk Is not done to the satisfaction of n, no charge will be made. V, .dUT-v appreciated and a contiuance of patron .•‘M’ysril.cUcd. ANDIE FOLEV. June 24. IS4S. HOME INDUSTRY. T-£ sTUSCUri’KIw having established a MAR ULEM \NITACTOIIY at the village of Tioga, ’•-t-c-; prLptrod to furnish Hoauments, Tomb-Stones, kc,, *IUIONT & ITALIAN MARBLE ' v Y-pettfully solicit the patronage of this and ad- ; -S i ’crtics a *:a good .-lock on hand he is now ready to cs ‘tilers nith neatness, accuracy and dispatch, delivered if desired. JOHN BLAMPIED. T.uga i'o.. Pa.. Pept 2S. 1859. WM. TERBELL, LOI’.MXU, X. -V. Wholesale and Retail Dealer, in Mtlicinr*. Lend, Zinc, at id Colored 11 1 'nni*h, Brushes Cnntpheni:and Hunting i': r dh<j}\ doth and Glass, Fnrc Liqttore for , Ifttlidncs, Artists Paints and Drunken, ' .1 - tirlr*, pidcorimg Extracts, &c., * ?c;icrul of School Books — blank Staple and Fancy Stationary, , and Country Merchants* dealing ’ tlic all ,\ e articles can be supplied at a small - vi Xcw York prices. [Sept. 22,1857.] ®1 WOVE A\D Tl.\ SHOP! ROY’S DKUG STOKE. *SSS y •‘■'i "in hmj Sioves, Tin, and Japanned for unedialf the usual prices . C :e ‘ V 2 ** Elevated Uvea Cook Stove and Trim sls,oo. '-tlUis ', s Tiii and Hardware ► 1;t j ‘ ; ° n ‘ ur Beady Pay.. > ■*• an * ° DC wants anything in this line i £•’ ,/ ec uUr prices before purchasing elsewhere. .-♦ . l^e I'lace —two doors south of Farr's Ho i Boy's Drug Store. CAUL AND SEE i. D. DEMING, s -5.,.T triinyaunouncc t 0 the people of Tioga County to fill all orders for Apple, Pear , V *-• -V-cunae, Apricot, Evergreen and Deciduous r, “- U-* Currants Kaspberries, Gooseberries, “ ' aa ‘l Strawberries of all now and approved vari ■ Consi -’ting Of Hybrid, Perpetual and Sum- I mtr il,,seB ' Moss, Bourbon, Noisette, Tea, I aa l, mbiug Hoses. f 5 . ■*■ rieties of Althea, Calycanthns, r/tI/]\Xrr> I,iraeB * r ‘ D P lufl ' Viburnums, Wigilias 4c. ERS—Paeonlai, Dahlias, Phloxes. Tulips, Hyacinths, Karcissis; Jonquils, Lil ■*! 'iiJvv. 11 ra ™tic,. >! r.a.•* 'Tf Strawberry. 4 dor., plants, $5. i‘l-^WI? full . y " oli C lted. 3 • ■' Budding or Pruning win b© • 1- Addn— H. D. DEMUfG, -IVrlUbojo, pa. Hebotel? to the JSytcnflion of the &t*a of ilm&om an® ttft Sprra® of Reform, WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. ! VOL. VI. From the Evening Post. “IE! ME G 0/' At dead of night I hoard a cry— The sleeping thousands beard it not— A wail, a smothered sob, a sigh. Of one who wrestled with his lot; A prayer, in tones subdued and low Uprose: “Q Father, let me go!” Disturbed, I looked abroad; the nigbfc Was grand with starlight and with gloom; And, marrelling if I heard aright, I asked: “What spirit seeks its doom ?” “A spirit its own bitterest foe,” It smd, “0 Father, let me go 1” ■ “0 soul,” in troubled tones I cried, “Why seek the winter of the grave? A life by trial sanctified Is fitting for the truly brave.” The voice replied: “Unmingled wo Is mine—o Father, let me go!” From that night forth, where'er I went. That strange prayer sounded in my ears ; The 'plaint of one with trial spent, O’erborne with cares and sick with tears; I hear it still—that voice off wo: “0 pitying Father, let me^o!” December 2,1859. M. 11. Cobb. Written for tbo Agitator. Tagahondiana, OR, THE EXPERIENCES OF SANDY JIAOTUINKER, POET, ARTIST, ACTOR, TINKER AND SCOTCHMAN. by box 23. Financially, Sandy Macthinker was more in dependent when he arrived in the United States than he is to-day; and then fifty-three cents was the boast of his exchequer, Bather a hu miliating fact to publish of a gentleman of such multifarious acquirements, and who for the past fifteen years has been pursuing a flourishing business—a business involving little or no cap ital, and paying as well as any of the profes sions—except to the more distinguished, of their members. Fifty-three cents! and on that piti ful sum he contrived to worry out two whole weeks, nibbling an occasional cracker, and drinking a glass of beer. He did not dare to put up at any of the hotels, as he could not even hope to be able at any time to pay his bill; for Sandy was innocent of all knowledge of business in those days. Pleasant prospect, truly, for a young fellow just starting on his own responsibility! He became as thin as a shad. Sandy thanks Heaven he is too dishon est now to suffer as he did then. Why didn’t he let his case he known t Simply, sir, because poverty has to natures such as Sandy Maothinker’s, the most pride engendering influence imaginable; their cour age sinks in the ratio of their loss of muscle. He assures me in all honesty that he once went until the afternoon ef the third day without tasting food. He then attempted to break his fast on a water-soaked ear of corn which he had picked out of the show-slush of the road. “And, would you believe it?” observed Sandy, “I found my appetite too d flinty for the primi tive edible. I put a few kernels in my mouth and before my teeth had closed thrice in masti cation, I became so disgusted that I spat them out with loathing. I made ample amends that evening, however, supping gloriously.” Let me Inform you how Sandy came to sup a o gloriously that night. He bad been out airing his muse when he found the ear of corn alluded to, and on re turning to the village where he had been loaf ing for eight or ten days he was informed that a letter awaited him at the post office. “It must be from my friend Bobinson!” exclaimed San dy, as he started to possess himself of the mis sive. But, horror of horrors', it occurred to him that the postage might not have been paid, and to one whoso pockets were as innocent of coppers as were his, that was calamity enough. His step flagged as the suspicion dawned upon him. Sandy was nonplussed. He hung an en tire hour about the store not daring to enter; and when at length in the agony of conquered irresolution be had concluded to brave the worst, a little fellow, & clerk in the office, came out and handed him the coveted-epistle—San- dy hopes that boy is worth half a million by this time—and O, joy! it was prepaid. Bobinson, sure enough, had raised him a class. “Come on,” ran the welcome letter, “X have got ninety scholars for you, at three dol lars each for tho term; the term to comprise twelve lessons; one dollar to he paid by each student on the first evening; the second instal ment to he paid on the sixth lesson being given, and the remainder at the close of the term.” It was sixteen miles to where his friend lived, hut weak tho’ Sandy was he set out at once. About five o’clock he came in sight of a cozy tavern nestling among trees in an angle of the road, its warm windows glowing in the red light of the sinking sun that shone through a broken cloud in the horizon—the scene of the gastronomic feat I am about informing you of, and which Sandy still delights to dwell upon— some Six miles on his journey. On the frosty evening air the supper bell rang with a sharp cheerful emphasis to the traveler and the hun gry, to prepare to refresh themselves. Sandy, however, regarded it as conveying no summons to him, —to him the most wearied, certainly the hungriest traveler in the county. No sum mons to him, yet was there an enchantment in the tintinabulation that spoke of promise; and visions of loaded tables passed in review before his appetite, sharpened his fancy. The bell had roused all that was mutinous within him. Like the tocsin to a war-begirt citadel, it had commanded all capable of bearing arms to come forward for defence; and true to the call, en tire stomach-dom had rallied and was clamor ing for battle. As Governor, Sandy tried to suppress the enthusiasm ; but all he 'could ef fect however was to show his weakness; they clamored more fiercely than before. A deputa tion at first with rather mild demands called his attention. ‘‘Would itnotbe well,” they argued, reminding him at the same time with a succes sion of pangs and certain loose motions of the knee-joints of the desperation of the cose, “would it not be well” said they “to tell the landlord your story? You can pay him in a day or two, you know. Prospectively at least, you are worth two hundred and seventy dol lars,” added the principal speaker, with a touch of diplomacy. Sandy waived their arguments disdainfully. “He would die rather,” be stu diously answered them. He was now in full sight of tho swinging sign. "Half Way House” it said. “You lie, WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING, JANUARY 19, 1860. it isn’t half way,” said Sandy, with a bitter controversional feeling at his heart. Ihe walk ing was difficult, and the snow fell fast but Sandy was brave. “The interior' may revolt if it chooses” thought he, “but Sandy will go down nobly holding out to the last.” He sol dered his resolution with a grim tear as he was passingthe sign. But ah, how useless are the struggles of virtue against fate! It was writ ten that Sandy Maothinker, poet, artist, actor, tinker, and Scotchman should eat that night. The tear had scarcely crystalized in the frosty wind upon his. cheek, when the front door opened, and the bell, mellow with invitation, again rang. v “Sweetare tho uses of adversity,” quoted Sandy, os he drank in the pleasant sounds. Inexpressibly sweet were they to the hungry poet, artist, tinker and Scotchman, for the mellow, tones came swimming to him on a gale of aroma from the glowing interior of the kitchen ( and reminding him of beef steaks steaming in gravy, they bore down us it were by a coup de main every rank of opposi tion, so that his virtue now fluttered a mere rag over the ruins of his resolutions, and he stood helpless as an infant. When Sandy returned to consciousness he was talking with great hi larity to the amiable host of the Half Way House, and over the well furnished table of that respectable hostelry. Of the supper Sandy chiefly says that it was distinguished as thS first occasion on which he had eaten pickled cucumbers—“and "the last also," he jocularly would add. He had always entertained a strong aversion for them, but that evening he pressed them to his lips as a child would a long withheld luxury. “How provok ingly stupid I have been to ignore such a deli cacy" thought he, as he helped himself for the third time from the tempting pile. “Have another pickle,” said the obliging landlord as he noticed his guest’s predeliotion jfor the charming condiment, and he officiously held the dish close to Sandy that he might the more easily help himself. “Thank you,” replied the poet, artist, actor, tinker and Scotchman, and another cucumber disappeared. “The old prejudice returned how ever," Sandy said, “when better times came.” He ignores them now. Sandy was so flagrantly honest in those days that he felt he would be doing the landlord an injustice were he to run up a larger score than the bare supper incurred; he was therefore ready for the road as soon as he left the table; indeed, anxious to go. But how to leave the house was another question.' He keenly felt the degradation of bolting sans cercmonie; and, tell the story of his poverty, he was determined not to do. “Should I stay all night it will but add to the delinquency/' he reasoned. 1 must' go by all means. He has given me a supper, enough for a stranger. Besides, he is too clev er to injure. “Ah, good man!” apostrophised the poet, artist, actor, tinker and Scotchman, ’“when I reflect how much more than handsome ly you have acted in this affair, particularly in the matter of the pickles, I feel beggared in manliness when I entertain the thought of fur ther injuring you. Kb, no, I shall go as soon as I find an opportunity.” On returning to the bar-room, Sandy accepted a cigar proffered by the host, and on lighting it he exploded a joke that made the worthy fiit old functionary laugh heartily. Sandy 'was evidently in favor. Unsuspecting boniface ! fa voring a wretch who was plotting with circum stances to rob you! Sandy, softened by the generous attention, was in capital spirits. Ilia fitful genius flashed jokes and witticisms till the bar-room became uproarious with laughter—the habitues of] its favored benches forgetting their thirst listening to him. “So much had I abandoned myself to the moment,” said Sandy, “that for an’hour or so I was made to forget my circumstances.” His cigar was now becoming exhausted ; and as the evening was wearing rapidly away, he checked bis gaiety. lie had resolved that when the landlord left the bar-room, he should regard it as the signal for his own exit. “Good,” thought Sandy as he saw Boniface leave his chair, “he is going,” But, instead of leaving the room, the fat landlord waddled behind the bar, and there to use Sandy’s own words, “filled up the measure of my ingratitude by asking me to take a drink.” Mine host no doubt at tributed Sandy’s reticence to a want of stimu lus, and was anxious to give his genius a fillip. Here was a fresh outrage. Sandy could have coined his nose for money to have paid his bill then, as the merry knight told Bardolf to do.— But it was registered that the Poet, Artist, Ac tor, Tinker and Scotchman should play the fool that night ; his nose, therefore, remained as it was. The drink proving a failure, the landlord shortly afterwards left the room, and Sandy, taking advantage of the absence, shot iuglori ously out iuto the darkness. To escape from a dilemma under honorable circumstances is always calculated to afford sub ject for felicitation; and if indebted to address is, and properly, honest occasion for self-gratu lation. Where could the Poet, Artist, Actor, Tinker and Scotchman find relief under his load of guilt ? In flight only, infamous, disgraceful flight! Every noise he heard was made by the abused landlord and his myrmydons in hot pursuit. “The wicked flee when no man pursueth,” urged the good book. “The thief does fear each bush an officer," hissed Shakespere. “He handed you pickles 1” shrieked cons cience. “He gave you a drink 1” roared gratitude.” “That was the unkindest cut of all.” and still “On horror's head, horrors accumulate For nothing cans! thou to damnation add, Greater than that.” Thus, pelted by these terrible remonstrants, Sandy was made to run the guantlet on that night of srorm. The ground seemed to spurn him as his feet touched it; and the pure snow scorned to offer resistance as he scattered it in bis fear and baste to fly from the scene of his shame. “It is an ill wind that blows nobody good,” says the proverb. There is clearly, in onr relations as social be ings, a law, by which afflictions, however great, are, if not exactly neutralized, at least materi ally lessened. Just think, Sandy might have fainted, aye, perchance have died on the public road on that night of hunger and of snow bad he not stolen his supper.. Was it not better then, I ask, to have sinned as he did than to have risked saddling a money-loving communi ty with pauper or funeral expenses ? Three weeks after, in cpmpnny with half-a dozen pupils on horseback, with practice swords in their hands—Sandy was an itinerant sword master in those days—the poet, artist, actor, Tinker and Scotchman called at the Ilalf Way House to pay -for his stolen meal, Boniface laughingly affected not to remember the delin quent visit. An amiable lie I guess. At all events he accepted the price of the supper and cigar. The lads and Sandy made the inn jubi lant for an hour, and left. Since then, the poet, artist, actor, tinker and Scotchman has had a meal once a day at least. Towanda, Pa., Dec. 1850, Scene on the Arkansas River. In coming down the Arkansas River lost May, I went out upon the guard to look at the large wheel at the stern of the boat; but myl attention was diverted from the wheel where I found a little black baby at the extreme end of the guard, behind two barrels, lying upon an old rag of carpeting. Tbe baby seemed in high glee, as he lay there, crowing and cooing, and playing with his feet. My heart at once cried out for the mother. Seeing a black girl sitting on the door-sill of one of the state-rooms, about three rods from the baby, I approached her, and asked: "Whose baby is that?" “It is mine," she replied. “How old is it ?” “Most four months.” “How old are you ?” “Most eighteen.” “Have you any other?” “Jfo.” “Do you love that baby any !” Starting to her feet, and bringing her clenched hands down to her-aijles with a force that shook her whole frame, she exclaimed: “'With all ray life!” “Don’t tell me that,” said I, wishing to draw her out. “If that was my baby," I added, “I would not leave him alone, and in such a place; I would hold him all day and watch him most tenderly”’ “Ah 1 missus,” and she sighed heavily and tears filled her eyes, “you don’t know; you can’t understand; but I love him too much for dat. I’m a field hand. I can suckle my baby when I work, only at six in the mornin’, at noon, an’ six o’clock at night. He lie on de cabin floor jes ns he does now yonder all day long. ’Pears like I can’t keep my hands off of him; but I dcu I take him jes three times a day, so he won’t cry after me or miss me when I am sold down in Louisiana, and have to stay in de field again all day.” “Have you a husband ?” I asked. “oyes, Massa hated to part us dreffelly; but he was obliged to. He sold ’nuff on us one day to pay a security debt of fifteen thousand dollars. My husband wasn’t sold, but Massa promise me he would send him down to me next year, and I shall ’spect him.” “How do you know about your being sold for debt!” I asked. I “0, massa told us, and”— “I was de house girl,”'chimed in another black girl standing by! “I used to tell de men who come for massa, to get us for de debt, dat massa had gone away, when all do time know’d he was in de old chamber hid away, cause he didn’t want to sell us. Now missis won’t you buy me ? Please do. I know you are from one of the Eastern States. 'Pears like I could tell an eastern lady as soon as 1 put my eyes on her—she looks so different, somehow. I want to go with you. lam afraid to be sold down in Mississippi or New Orleans. Then she began to cry, aid I retreated to my state-room, for the tears would come, and I could hear no more of the wrongs of these poor slaves. Did I doubt this slave-mother’s affec tion ? Do you ? — Cor. Anylo-African. Higher. Higher is the word of nohio meaning—the inspiration of all good deeds—the sympathetic chain that loads, link by link, the impassioned soul to the zenith of its glory, and still holds its mysterious object standing and glittering among the stars. ✓ Higher I lisps the infant that clasps its mother's knees and makes its feeble efforts to rise from the floor, — it is the first inspiration of childhood to burst the narrow confines of its cradle, in which the sweetest moments have passed forever! Higher 1 laughs the proud schoolboy at his swing, as he climbs the tallest trees of the for est, that he may look down on his less jidven turous companions with a flash of exaltation, and abroad over the fields and meadows and his native village. He never saw so extended a prospect before. Higher 1 earnestly breathes the student of philosophy and nature; be has a host of rivals but be must eclipse them all. The midnight oil burns dim, but finds light and knowledge in the lamps of heaven, and his soul is never weary when the last of them is hid behind the curtain of-morning. And higher 1 his voice thunders forth when the dignity of manhood has invested his form, and the multitude is listening with delight to his oracles, burning with eloquence and ring ing like true steel in the cause of freedom and right. And when time has changed birloofcs to silver, and world wide in his reniwn, when the maiden gathering flowers by - the roadside, and the boy in the field bow in reverence as he passes, and peasants look to him with honor, can he breathe forth from his heart the fond wish of the past f Higher yet 1 He has reached the apex of earthly honor, yet his spirit burns warm as in youth, though with a paler and steadier light, and it would even borrow wings and soar up to heaven, leaving its tenement to moulder among the laurele he has wound around it, for the never-ending glory to be readied only in the presence of the Most High. The Man the pog Barked at. A few days ago we noticed a man walking along ond of our principal streets whose ap pearance indicated that he wak in a peck of trouble. He looked cross enough to bite a ten penny nail in two —something very serious had disturbed his equanimity. While we were won dering what it conldhave been—-whether or not he had failed in business, or lost money by somebody else who bad failed—{-whether or not his wife had eloped with his best friend—all formed a strange problem—the -face of matters was very wonderfully changed iby a simple in cident. We had not absolutely determined in our own mind the nature of, his grievances, when an impudent little terrier, which was squatted upon the sidepath, discovered some thing offensive in the appearance of the man to whom wo allude, and jumped towards him with a sharp and angry bark. ; This was alto gether too groat an indignity, and filled tbe cup of our traveler’s annoyances to overflow ing. He turned fiercely to tfaeldog, and while he insulted him with a blunt bath, attempted to kick him. The cur was altogether too -nim ble, and, as he leaped aside to avoid tbe punish ment he had earned, barked |more furiously than before. . \ The man’s anger now knew ho bounds; the more the dog barked at him, the more anxious he seemed to be to succeed in him.— The figure they cut as the terrierijumped into the street, the man after him, the dog yelping, and his antagonist swearing louder .and louder, was ludicrous in the extreme. People gathered upon the sidewalk in crowds. The people looked on and giggled; the men braced themselves against the walls, and shook their sides brave ly ; and the boys shouted out in great delight, “Go it old fellow 1 go it, while j you’re young.” The man who was making so laughable an ex hibition of himself soon discovered that the dog was too agile for him, and gave up the chase in daspair. It was not uhtil then he dis covered he had made a fool of himself in his anger. He then hastily drew "his bat over his brow, and walked very rapidly laway. Here is an epitome of the liistory. of thou sands ! How many there are who first fall out with themselves and then with; everybody else, and by complaining, and fretting, and snarling and snapping, make themselves and everybody around them miserable. They indulge their snappisbucss of feeling until nothing can please them, and the consequence is, :tbey are a mis ery to themselves, and] a laughing stock, and an object of contempt to others. The less real cause there is jfor fretting the more they fret; until they seem miserable be cause they can find- nothing to be miserable about. He who calmly and mildly, but firmly and fearlessly, pursues the even tenor of his way, acts the part dictated byj sound wisdom and common sense; but he who turns to kick at every little cuf who barks at him, will have a wearisome and profitless life of it. Men create difficulties and annoyances where none need be, and the misfortune with them is, that the more they.kick at these imaginary ills the more unkickable they become, and yet the greater annoyance. The pee’vish of fretful man is necessarily an unhappy man. The more he gives way to this disposition,! the more he lowers himself in his ownj estimation, the more he suspects himself lowered in the esti mations of others : and thus from bad to worse he goes on, until his life becomes a burden both to himself and those around him. Such peo ple always find “curs” enough to hark at them. Let the mischievous world but learn that a man ian be annoyed by trivial circumstances, and there are at once enough to kefep him kicking all the time, while they themselves are nimble enough to keep put of the way of harm, and enjoy the sport. ; Speaking too Soon. Mebitahle Merit, a young lady over twenty nine, who never bad a chance to change the alliterative character of her name, was seated over the fire in her little sitting-room, when a knock was heard, and who should make bis ap pearance but'Solomon Periwinkle. “Why,” thought she, wonder what he’s come for; can it be —” But we won’t divulge the thought that passed through the lady’s mind. “flow do you do, Miss Merilj ?” “Pretty well I thank you, Air. Periwinkle. Not hut I feel a little lonely now and then.” “You see, as I was coining by I thought 1 would just step in and ask you a question about—that is, ahout-i-” “I suppose,” thought Miss Merit, “he means about the state of my heart.” “The fact is,” sgtid Solomon, who was rather bashful, “I feel a little delicate about asking, hut I hope you won’t think it strange.” ] “Oh no,” simpered Miss Ml, “I don’t think it all strange, and, in fact, I have been some how expecting it.” - ; “Oh,” said Solomon, rather surprised, “I believe you have in your possession something of mine.” | (“His heart, ho means,” said Miss M., aside.) “Weil, sir, it may afford !you pleasure to know that you have mine in return. It is fully and entirely your own.” j “What! I got your umbrella ?” exclaimed Solomon in amazement, I think you must be mistaken, and I don’t think I’d like to exchange mine for it, for mine was given me.” “X beg your pardon,” said the discomfitted lady, “but I made a mistake;. I quite forgot your umbrella, which I borrowed some time ago. Here it is. 1 was thinking of something else.” | “If,” said Solomon, there is anything of yours that I have got, 1 shall! be happy to re turn it.” ! j "Well, no; it’s no matter,” stammered Miss M., coloring. "Good morning.”' A gentleman named Dunlop being present at a party where qne of the company had made several pans on the names off the persons pres ent, remarked that he bad never heard his name punned upon, and didn’t believe it could be done. “There is nothing in the world more easy, sir,” replied the punster—just l"p off dulf the name and it is c/ii.i.” Advertisements will be charged $1 per square of 1 ft lines, one or three insertions, and 26 cent* for every subsequent insertion. Advertisement* of less than If* lines considered os a square. Thesubjeined nteawill be charged for Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly ad* veriisementa: Square, . 2 do. 3 do. i column, - £ do. Column, - - 25,'t)0 35,00 50,00 Advertisements not having the number of insertion, desired marked upon them, will be published until or dered out and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbills, Bill-Heads, Letter-Heads and »U kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices’, Constables’, and other BLANKS constantly on hand. : NO. 25. A Fifth Annas Lady Buying Books. A correspondent of the Newport News tells the following anecdote: A certain New York lady whom I shall call Mrs. X., recently had the good lack to come into the possession of a handsome fortune. Nu sooner bad this agreeable change in her condi tion been affected, than she immediately hod a "loud call" from the direction of JTifth arenue and yielding to the tempter, prevailed upon her husband to abandon his calling as a pur veyor in provisions and fish, and to purchase a residence-in that aristocratic In due time her house was furnished in a stylo of magnificence which vied with “the very best.” Keeping her eyes open for every new improvement, she recently discovered that “it was about the right thing” to have books, and desirous of being up with the fashion, at once ordered an elegant rosewood book-case and started out to purchase the materials wherewith it was to be filled. Provided with a diagram illustrating the dimensions of the library—the length breadth and height of the shelves, and so on—she colled upon one of our largest publishers, and hand ing an astonished clerk the measure, told him she “wanted the pootiest books he’d got—them with red backs—and to be sure and make them all Jit the librarium.” With this the lady moved away as majestically as a full blown tur keycock under full sail. In due time the books went, but such was the novelty of the order that, in exercising his taste, the clerk had se lected some a little too long, others too short; some bound in Russia, some in Turkey, some in calf; while the colors of the collection were as variegated ns the hues of the rainbow. This didn’t suit, and a day or two brought the whole batch back, Mrs. X., following close upon them, looking as stiff as if she had been poured into gorgeous clothes, like a candle in a state of liquefaction, and had then “set.” “I sent yer books back,” she said, “because I told you to make ’em all of one size and one color, and them ain’t no more alike than a parcel of nigger babies is like white children." “But, madam,” ventured the clerk, “we supposed there were some particular works you would like to have.” “No!” said she, with an em phasis as if she were dictating to her cook, “I don’t care what’s in ’em ; all I want is books to fill them shelves that has got red backs, and will look genteel in my new librarium.” There was no mistaking that order and, thia time the redj backs” went, and are proba bly adorning one of our “homes of art, taste and refinement.” Think of it, ye shades of Shakespeare, Burns, Byron, Moore, and brother worthies, your brains bought by the square inch ! But such is life! Quite an amusing expose was made by the Principal of one of the North River Female Boarding Schools, at an entertainment given to the scholars just before the holiday vacation. If appears that a yonng gentleman of Albany, took the school catalogue of the seminary and selected at random the name of a young lady to whom he addressed a letter, exhibiting no little verdancy, and requesting the happiness of a correspondence for their “mutual enter tainment and improvement." As adverse for tune would have it, the prize in this extempor ized lottery fell to a yonng Miss some ten years of age, who not being *able to read it “very good," as she said, handed it over to her father, who passed it on to the principal of the school. An answer was returned to the Albany gallant, which drew from him his autobiography and a daguerreotype of his face. From the data thus furnished the young fellow was recognized, and the correspondence closed by the administra tion of a dose of whole some, ad vice. The let ters and daguerreotype weijclon exhibition du ring the evening of the recept entertainment. Actors, rope-dancers, opera singers &c., have a weakness for high sounding names. Blon din’s real name turns out to be Gravelet. The genuine name of one of the most celebrated musicians in America is Tompkins. The cor rect name of the late Matt Peel was Flannery. The Ada Clares, Lucille Irvings and Julia Ra vensworths that make such showy lines in play bills, are in reality Sarah Jane Smiths, Susan Ann Browns and Polly Maria Jones. When you see such names as Frederick Rivers and G. Augustus Fitzjames on a play-bill you may be pretty sure that Murphy and Stimkins "are around." OS THE I.ITTLE TOE CV Ml RITE FOOT, WHICH BE2 OB- STIN.VTEI.Y HEFUSED-MEHIKLE TBEETMESS. Distroyer of my peese ! do folly la your dad, Tite boots yure mother. Agony and pain. (Delitoful opbspring) is yure children twain. And honging on ther skirts a 1000 ills «z bad. An Sunday nilo, drest up, to Banner ann’s i go, Two oppo«iu sentiments my sou!'divides, t sink in agony—‘On Joy's hi hosai rides, Keren in my hart, doth'in that little toe. 0 lora ! what woes we bring upon ourselves, By folly. ' Why wuz i not content 2 hav Feet uv the same size that nacher, all-wise gave, TVM did i try on Ss instid uv 12s. Thowst laughtest me a lesson. What nachcr's dun Man cant improov and beitcr let alone. Mr. llexry Roberts, of Kings county, t: 1., has a barn in a field, situated some distance from his house, where his hens lay their eggs, and where the village boys steal them. Goaded to desperation by repeated robberies, he tacked the following warning on the bam door; A Koatis. Eny boys ketchcd stcelin ini cgs, shall bo spanked by mo till they is so red they kant se. I want all lb* egs and lie swot eny man woman or child wbat g**ze uerc my barn and the egs is mine nor i wont stand \\ no longer not for an instance. “O dear me !” exclaimed Henrietta, throw ing herself in the rooking chair, “I’ll never go to the post office again, to be looked out of coun tenance by all those men in the corner. It’s so provoking! What can I do, Sarah Jane, to stop those awful men staring me so in the face 1” “Do as 1 do," replied Sarah Jane with a elv iaok; “show your ankle." What injunction of Scripture would two la dies fulfill when they kiss each other 1 "Doing unto others what they would that men should do unto them." Rates of Advertising. 3 KOSTBS. S MONTHS. 12 MOSTSt $3,00 $4,50 $6,00 5.00 6,50 8,00 7.00 8,50 10,00 8.00 9,50 12,50 15,00 30,00 30,00 SOXNIT—2 A KOKX.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers