' Terms Publication. fTTIE TIOGA is published „ Wednesday MoriunM;a£d mailed to subscribers .tthß'very o|j ■ - rf-OJSffl DOLIM>|R ANNUM,,®*- r ..U„ faadiianie. to notify every when the term f S§ #hteh ho has paid shall ,n “ -Inired. by tHo fleuret> i>Oj(he'printed label on the haT lin of each paper, will then be stopped s'farther remittance be deceived. By this ar • emeet no man c**> ; ge- brought in debt to the rang * i>rl J^' r ’ 4( .iTA.TOB is thi "o< toys to any ?otfO&«o- within the county fut whose most’lpdnfjentent post office may be ‘“Vadjoining County;-i . Business Cards, not S lines, paper inclu ded, sop cr >- ear - •-- :sI!L_L business -j VlilioWßEiiSiS r.ijnaffl, A 9 i.cwr.rallLtoßS at law, win attend the Gonri of>T|o&, Pottor and MoKean ties. IWellsboro', Eff-ftffe 63 '!- DARI A pENTIST. „mi - . /OFFICE ; »tphib residence near tie I I AcadetfTs'&U work pertaining to UjTj f Tr fhia line.ef "imrisfs done promptly and '"j ■>ili [ A P rii 22 > iBsg -] ■ warranted. ■ mcKIO* HOUSE c 6 B N Ilf e *| n; t. Maj A. Field, .. .1. IPi Proprietor. Otiasl3 taken to and geifi tjcLepot free of charge. j. C. UJ.ifIT*AKEB, Hydropathic i , pjf'lv|p| on d Sift-peon. EIiKLAND, PENNA. Will visit patients iri ffipwiS of the County, prre them for PES»SYEVA»|;| HOUSE. Corner of Mate Street f tii (J| ftfenue, Welhhoro, Pa. J. W. PpBPEIETOB. This popular Hotel,l hiring ilpen. ro-filted and re furnished to the public as a Sfirsl-claes house. 1 jl ;J if I'-- IZAAK HOUSE, B. C. VERMIL Gaines, Ti*j» ( |!Muity, Pa. THIS is a new hotel ypatid,Within easy access of the best fishing im(Minuting grounds in Northern Pa. No pains will be) sftkred (Sf the accommodation of pleasure seekers aud£he graveling public. April 12, 1860. ) fij, f} jjj H. O^CiittLE, BARBER I}]^m-DRESSER SHOB in the rear of * ft ' his lino will be dj can be done in tlio citj moving dandruff, anr i chfeap. Hair and whi iee. Wellsboro, Septj ; THE COB* George W. Prati IS published at Corr Dollar and Fifty t Journal is Ropubiicai lion reaching into ev Those desirous of ext£\ and the adjoining count rerUsing medium. 4/ FURS I furs;: subfLrSW ifair.ljast received a large assortment of tai&s wear, consisting of FITCH CAPES & vkii'OMTWES, FRENCH CARRS & .YIGTORINES, RIVER. JUNK CAPEpA ft 'Vi'FS, '■ ROCK 3IARTIk C)JSN & VI CTO BINES. These comprise a sindy qtia|i}tity of the assortment. They have been boagfct|WU4|hbtheiB permanently located in jElklttydi BHid Tioga Co. Pa., and is prepared by thirty ycalsUexfxrlxence to treat ail dis eases of the eyes and tUctF- aOT|ndages on scientific principles, and' that he without fail, that dreadful disease, called;,Si. Dance) (Chorea Saudi Uftf,) nnd will- att ,ntt other business in the line of Physic and Sur{fer»ii Klkland Boro, August i, IVcIKROY f& ||aILEY, TITOULD inform the having purchased W the Mill.property/as the “CULVER MILL,” and having .supplied it with Wtt bolts and machinery, l!o| r prepared to do OUSITO^ISfpKK to the entire satisfaction oV its :rons. With the aid of our experienced oilier, Mr*|L. D. Mitcbel, and the tinsparing efforts of the ■ they intend to kosp up an establishment Becduc|to none in the county. Oash paid for whe** -ud corqs the highest market price pi vo- * » here he is prepared to iio of Watch, Clock find Jewelry repairing, in d w»&%anlike manner. All work warranted to give enftrej&llsfaction. We don- • ' taan, b Ue ci P*rmi 11 . 011 is requested to top Artificial Bone for filling i.» lt taing the color Bud nearly as b»rd as the teeth in many cases superior tp liny Metallic substance. , »by a new pnjtess if electro-metalurgy, those ;, V . ID £ siHer plates apn have them beaHly plated with nf?/ a very rea *onible ijerms. No cheap humbugs oduced. His system, pf practice is the result of • p ex Perience of the best members of the profession. ■ turning, Nov. 10,1859. \ Refers to Dr. W. tf; Terbell,T)r. May, Dr. Hanford, ID S» Pr. Poison, Beth. Dr. Brown, Addison. T Veterinary Surgeon. \ BE nnderaigned Sega to inform to people of Tioga Homo tbftt I»*® located himself at Tioga in the u * or tbe . cur ® all diseases known to Horses/ tnaHft £horteBt tl fnB *') Satisfaction given or no obargo n I WM, HOUK, Tioga. Pa. W mV 0 J * Q ' *f orcereau > - Abratn Shappeo and —!. 3m12 SfMviniiloW’s Soothing Syrup. Children teething. Price 25 cents. jl*or Sale at Roy’s Store, TIIH 3cfcoteU |to t|je tt>t Mvtn of iFm&ow anlsr tDe SpctaO of ©raXtDfi f om. i toL. m *‘[ t r ~ ! - Prom Potter’s Spirit. • THE BEREAjVED HUNTER. i My hoy iadead— myjpet—myowu. ", j The crescent moon, with eilverlight, | t Gleams on a little grave. To-night 1 ! I take, the trail of life alone. ! iCTORY. | Two ago I fondly said, j j“Lo 1 nnto me a son is born j” i J And when the west wind woke 'the morn, i ’j The mother of my ibay was deaid. 1 | I hare no joy in hearen’s light, | I will not weep, and cannot pray; { X wear the tiresome night to day, ! And tire the weary day to night. j With dark surplice and oily voice • Comes One to mo oj 1 peace,; | “The child has gone where sorrows cease, | ’Twere meet the father should rejoiee.”j > i it | •i My soul in fierceness'makes reply : , I “My beautiful, my dark-eyed boy, ’ Whose very being was a joy— ‘ ; What had he done that be should'die The fox barks sharpty from the hill, As fades the light adpwn the 'Vfest; Soothing bis mate nplon her nest, Plaintively sings the •whip-poor-will. Oat from the wierd and grim, Where checkered gleams of moonlight fall, I hear the owlet’s hollow call, King through the forest arches dim. Over the sombre hills of pines i The night wind sweeps with chastened wail, Shaking against the moonbeam? pale> l The tangled hair of untrained vines. | My rifle rusts against; the wall, j My hound tugs idly dt his chain; 1 I care not for the Summer rain, j Or if the waters rise pr fall. j The dun deer feed at early morn, ■!. 1 Where bends the grass by purling brboks; | Still hangs the rifle-on its hooks— I Stili am I lestless and forlorn. I I know 'tis weakness thus to moan, • That I should'‘sufferand be strong,*” ; But oh 1 the journey teems so long, •j And 'tis so sad to be alone. ' Why should Ijd’er mountains toS— J Wbfcre is the measure'? what the need I To d£aw witblskUl the deadly bead, ; When hone aje left toshare.the,spoil. > ‘ is nor wife, *J child will greet mo more, . Wbst yonder jhat I ponder o'er, ■ M/'grief, or weary of my life. Pa. x sept. t IS6O, j , THE DETECTED TKAITO^E. jThe proud and wealthy James silk and velvet merchant of Broadway, New York, was just entering his superb bazaar, jas one of his clerks respectfully saluted him, and started •to (pass out, v Mr. Clair, I shall desire your presence in m j office ere long,” said the merchant. “Do riot leave the store until I have -spoken with f/ot." 1 There was an ominous sternness in his tone tbit attracted the quick ear of Thornton Clair, and as he gazed after his pompous qhief, who strjode on with unusual haste, bis eye caught that of Hiram Mould, the cashier, peering with unconcealed malice through the mahogany bars of ihis desk. Thornton Clair had arrived in Nekv York four months before from some city of ithe far West, and uppn applying to James Agjmoor, bis manly and!intelligent face had so pleased that gentleman that his services were immediately accepted, and he was given the responsible post of collector. “ 'This wasdjy no means agreeable to, the enyi oua Mould, nor did his vexation diminish os he saw that James Agmoor daily fnbre and mote attached to the youth. ; ' While Clair stood waiting the expected sum mops, and as Mr. Agmojor entered his private office, the cashier moved from his seat, and fol lowing his principal, eaijefully closed the green baije door after him. 1 ' . j j lit was strange to see the proud andjpompons airiof the lordly merchant change to one of 111- concealed fear and disgust, as the cashier bid him good day and seated himself near him, fa cing him, and having the office table: between them. ; 1 l “‘You have considered my propositions, Jas. Agmoor,” said he, in a smooth, soft voice, sleek and! silky as the precious fabrics that were about them. ' ° , Jbmos Agmoor buried his face in his hands for a moment, and then sweeping back his snow while hair, said, huskily : - “jl have, Hiram Mould, I have! ” and his face, pale and red by turns, again sought the cover of his trembling Hands. V I have told my daughter that you demanded her fora wife. \She|told me to tell you that she wiuld rather be a beggar in the streets than the Wife of Hiram Mbqld." , “ I told her all,” burst from the quivering lipsjof the merchant. “I told her that Jlirain Mould' waa the master of her father; that ere she teas born 1 committed a crime—a crime whose ever-present guilt has blanched my hair before I have numbered my forty-fifth year.” . “ ind then she relented ?” \ “ She asked me to tell her of that crime,” re plied Agmoor, and as he : spake his eyes grew bright, and he looked Hiijam Mould full in the face; “ I told her. She jsaid the deed was not a criine—that the blow was dealt iu’self-defence that‘killed Charles -Harper, And so it was.— Hiram Mould, you know it was.” ! “ Were we in court, I, (he only witness of the act, {Tames Agmooc,J would sweat that it 'was —prfemeditated murder.”’ j 1 jnjmes Agmoor’s eyes dosed with a shudder, and again the trembling bands hid pallid face. “ I would swear,” resumed Hiram Mould, os his sharp, white tgeth bristled from his sneer ing Bps, “and tfie jury;would believe every word. thaf one summer’e evening jsome twenty yearp ago, I saw James Agmoor, who had re fused to fight in fair and open-iombat with Charles Harper, crouching amid the bashes that bordered the highway through Jersey woods; and bs Charles Harper was riding unsuspcetr logit by, I saw James Agmoor spring from his covert and strike him to the earth with a club —I sweatkhat James Agmoor then and, therd murdered Charles Harper, njhere I could 'find jthe bones'; aye, find jthe watch that would; identify the body." 1 ' “All Mae!” cried the merchant, arousing; himself a moment. “’jwas Janes Agmoor who;was dragged from his borsi by Charles' Harder! 'Twas Hiram Ijlould wio prompted WHILE THERE SHALL EE|A WRONG UNRIQHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION"MUST..CONTINUE. | WELLSBO ' Nesssidk. AGITATOR. 10, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 14, 1860. | the assault for purposes of his own—because he hatedl each with a deadly hate. Too, Hiram Mould, first made ns, who were till then bosom, friends, bitter enemies. He struck me. I re turned the blow; he drew his knife and stabbed me, but before I fell senseless, il wrested the weapon froml him and dealitjhim; a fatal'thrust that prostrated him also. We fell together— alike unconscious— l in ai swoon, he dead.— Yon, Hiram Mould; hid the body where yon can find jits remains to convict me. The public believe that I Charles Harper was murdered; yon created that belief; but to use me all my life yon took successful care that the finger of suspicion should not point at me, lest the law might kill the goose that Idys the golden eggs.” While the tortured man was saying all this far more incoherently than I have written it, the unmoved joonspiritor had rapidly sketched a-picture, of. a gibbited felon, and as the mer chant concluded, Hiram Mould placed the in significant sketch before him. r “ Such shall be your fate, if Rachel Agmoor I’ refuses to become my wife;” said he, pointing to the hideous picture with: his long, lean fore finger, ! Agftin the merchant yielded before the terri ble threat, and bis head sank upon his bosom. “Now call in Thornton Clair and dismiss him at once," said Hiram sternly. “He loves your daughter—she perhaps loves him. You have foolishly allowed him| to visit your bouse. It shall be my care that he find no other em ployment in this city.” ■ “ I am in ybur power;” groaned the unhappy Eraan, rising add opening the door; but as be lid so, his daughter Rachel stepped quickly from he side Of Thornton Clair with whom he was lagerly convei sing, and sain: “ I wish to see Hiram Mould immediately, tear father,” and guided by hernstonished pa ent, she enteijed the private office. The merchant closed the idoor and turned to laddress his child. | Tall and queenly in person, a lovely brunette |>f eighteen summers, with large black eyes us ually full, of softness, as became her amiable and affection nature, hut then flashing scornful feres as her redl lips curled with scathing oon fimpt. Rachel Agmoor motioned her father to oiuse a moment and bent her cazo on Hiram lould. ! ; ’ He seemed ill at ease as those splendid eyes ilowly scanned 1 him from head to foot, bathing him as it were in worldless scorn. He rose to his feet, and recovering hiis natural coolness, said: ’ I “I am happy to see that Miss Rachel Agmoor Considers so humble a person as Hiram' Mould Worthy of so continued a gaze, t “This is the thing that dares to hope to calf pe wife I” said Rachel; and though the words were cutting, the tone and manner penetrated Bo the marrow of the rascal’s bones, and flashed Bitter words to bis white lips. ' ; j “The thing is honored in being so called, my qaughty damsel. You are proud, now, Rachel Agmoor, but the time shall come when you Shall be as bnmbled before me os the trembling man beside you.” | “If I reject and defy you,, yon will attack the life and reputation of my father,” said Rachel 4-“ You must be very confident of your power, tii send such a message to the woman you wish to make your wife.” i I“I am conscious of my strength. Do you wish to see a.proof of it?” steered Hiram. | Rachel bent her head contemptuously. Hi r|m Mould was at a loss to comprehend this unexpected defiance; but sure of bis ground ?4hfi said: t i I “There is a young man in your father’s em ploy whom he loves as his cwn son. Rather than barm a hair of that young man’s bead, Jpmes Agmoor would gladly lop off bis right nd, I verily believe, if the sacrifice could ail either. Hr. Agmoor [ Call in Thornton air." | ; i ifes looked to see Rachel pale and trembling, it she was calm and cqllcctejl. !Tbe timid father—timid (before the cashier ne—obeyed, and Thornton Clair stood in the ■ty; but.his bine eyes wari blazing with a nace so profound and deadly that Rachel laid soft hand upon his strong arm that was filing as if for a sudden blow to be dealt at serpent like eyes of the sneering cashier add whispered. i <= {“Wait!—forrdy sake.” | • {“Mr. Agmoor,” said Ilifain, but recoiling somewhat from the reach of] that arm, “has this young man dared to make love to one so immensely abovehim as yoiir'daughter, and I pnpposed myself as her husband; his presence, in|our establishment is an irault. Discharge hi in at once;." [The wretched merchant paused in torturing suspense, and the cashier poised to the sketch that lay upon the table. f'Mr. Thornton Clair” 'My true name is not Clair,” began the young man jquickly, unwilling to see the father of|his Rachel so humiliated. 1 “I am the son of Charles Harper, who lives in ; Oregon, and who assumed the name of Clair because be believed hef had slain James Agmoori iMy name is, in fa|t, Thornton Harper.” 11 , i ■'‘Young man I” cried James Agmoor almost iping. “Do not deceive a most wretched in. Does Charles Harper who Carried my jein Helen Agmoor, still'lire ? Was he not led? j : !‘On my honor, Mr. Agmoor,” said Thornton, >at Charles Harper is alive,; andatill thinks it be killed James AgmoorJ Until this raorn '■ I was of the same belief, for my father, who since that unfortunate oomlbat has concealed himself under ah assumed haime in the wilds ofithe West, while my mother followed hinj, has often fold me sorrowfully of all that trans pired. But;he never told ms the name of the man whom he deemed he ha.l alain nor that of tb| man wbb, os bo rose after a moment of an coisoionsness, pointed at your bleeding body, said'you were dead and prevailed on him to seek safety in instant fligbt. upon the very horse yon had ridden. Your daughter related tope what you told her last night, a few min utes ago, and we immediately'concluded on the trith.” , ,fi ; y J'Oufof my sight, Hiram Mould !” cried the enraged merchant, “Double: traitor, begone! “t th; in; ’ —began the father. or I shall make myself what yea have forced me for years to think myself—murderer I" ' 'While Thornton was speaking, the guilty cashier had sunk into a chair and rested his head upon the table, hiding his face, as he for ten years delighted in torturing his victim to do; but when James Agmoor, no longer a crime bound serf, thus addressed, him he stag gered to bis feet, groping blindly for door, tottered feebly through the bazaar, to his desk, where he had so long ruled with the magic,rod of gold, and pressing his hands to bis bead, groaned, reeled, caught himself erect, opened bis private drawer, placed a pistol to bis temple, and fell dead ere he could press the trigger, smitten—said the Coroner that pay—by the al mighty hand of God. SCOTTISH HUMOR. The following amusing anecdotes we copy from an article in Blackwood’s Magazine, on “ Scottish National Character.” A minister of' Crail had been long annoyed by the drowsy propensities Jn church of a far mer, one of his parishioners, “ one David Cowan in Trustrie;” and remonstrating on the subject, had his patience conciliated by two cartloads of coal which the offender engaged to drive to tho manse door. Nevertheless, “ a few Sundays after, Mr. Cowan, soon after the com mencement of the sermon, fell into a sound sleep as formerly ; and not only so, but made so much noise as to disturb the sitters near him and the minister. Mr. Glass bore with it for a while, but at last, being able! to stand it no longer, desired the people in the north loft— Anglice gallery—to “ waken David Cowan.” David, awakening suddenly, and forgetting where he was, asked the minister “if he didn't drive two cartloads cf coal to the manse last week to let him sleep f" “ True," replied the minister, “ but I did not agree to let you snore !” A simple version of this story is, that honest David,-suddenly aroused out of I the peaceable rest for which be had compounded, demanded to know, in amazement and indignation, wheth er “ the coals were a’duhe a’ready ?”—a most natural inquiry. Such tales of colloquy in church abound. “Jenny,” asks a Dunferline minister of the same generation, stooping from bis pulpit, “have you got a preen (pin) about ye ?” “Yes, minister.” “Then stick it into that sleeping brute by your side.” Such instant punishment must have made it dangerous work to trifle with the temper or even attract overmuch the notice of the keen-sighted observers. “An admirable story of a quiet pulpit rebuke,” says Dean Ram say, is‘traditionary in the East Neuk of Fife, and told of a seceding minister, a Mr. Sbirra, a man well remembered by the older generation for many excellent and some eccentric qualities. An officer of a volunteer corps on duty in that place, very proud of his fresh j uniform, had oome to Mr. Shirra’s church and walked about as if looking for a seat, but, in fact, to show, off his dress, which ho saw was attracting atten tion from some of the less grave members of the congregation. He came to his place, how ever, rather quickly, on Mr. Shirra quietly re monstrating “Oh, man, will ye sit doon, and we’ll see your new breeks when the kirks dune.’ ” This same Mr. Shirra was well known from his quaint and as it were, parenthetical comments which he introduced in his reading of Scriptures ; as, for example, in reading from the 110th Psalm, “I said in my haste, all men are liars,” he quietly observed, “Indeed, David an’ ye had lived i’ this parish, ye might hie said it at your leisure.” Those dull old kirks in the end of the eighteenth century, can soarcely r have been so dull as one might suppose. Per haps it is a Boanerges storming in the pulpit, with afternoon auditors woefully unable even to get to sleep; but In, a dog has followed his master to church, and unseen, somewhere pays tribute to the eloquence of the sermon, becom ing “first excited, as is not uncommon with some dogs when hearing a noise, and from wingeing to whining as the speaker’s voice rises .louder and louder, at last hoginning .to bark and howl.” The indignant minister calls upon his beadle to eject the intruder. “Ay, ay, sir,” says John, looking up to the pulpit, “but, indeed, it was ■yourself that began it,” — Perhaps it is a still more amusing dnd confus ing encounter. “The circumstance! happened in a parish of the north* The clergyman, on.- coming into the church, found the pulpit occu pied by the parish idiot. The authorities bad been unable to remove him without more vio lence than was seemly,, and therefore waited for the minister to dispossess Tam of the place he had assumed. “Come down, sir, immediately,” was the peremptory and indignant call; and on-Tam being unmoved, it was repeated with still greater energy. Tam, however, very con fidently replied, looking down from his eleva tion, “Na, na, minister, just ye comeup’wi’ me. This is a perverse penbration, and, faith, they need us baith 1’ ” Or imagine the effect upon a sleepy congregation of the following lit tle episode. “One day when Jamie was sitting in the .front gallery, wide awake, when many were slumbering round him, thq clergyman en deavored to awaken the attention of his hearers by stating the fact, saying. “You see, even Jamie Fraser, tho idiot, does not fall asleep, as so many of you are doing.’ Jamie, not liking, perhaps, to be thus designated, coolly replied, ‘An’ if I hadna’ been an idiot, I wad hae been sleeping too.’ ” Or of this much more compli mentary and pleasant interruption: “Another of these imbeciles, belonging to Peebles, had been sitting at church fur some time listening attentively to a strong representation from' the pulpit, of the guilt of deceit and falsehood in Christian characters. He was observed to turn red and grow very uneasy until at last,-as if wincing under the supposed attack upon him self, he roared out, ‘lndeed, minister, there’s mair leears in Peebles than me,’ ” Some emphatic stories are told by Bishop Low’s biographer, of a Fife gentleman, poor and witty. Awakened suddenly in the middle of the night by the unwelcome sound of thieves rummaging in his drawers, this, philosopher awoke with all his wits about him, and the calmest equanimity of spirit. “Hand ye busy lads, hand ye busy,” he says, quietly ; “an’ ye find any siller there i’ the dark, it’s more than I con do in daylight.’’ At another time the same individual had a company assembled to ' purchase the trees round his house, and as.usual under similar clroafhstances, it was' hinted to him that it would be iwell to introduce a bottle' or two of brandy to inspire competition. • “Lord have a care o’ your daftbeadS 1” exclaimed the poor laird,'“lf I had: two:, qr three” bottles of brandy, d’ye think I would 'sell' my trees?”— Liberal living, claret anfi whiskey,-not to speak of attainders and .confiscations, put more than trees in'danger; but despite our national char acter for frugality there are always pointed an ecdotes against houses wanting in a liberal and hospitable expenditure; in Scotland;. Nothing could be more obnoxious to our forefathers than the reproach of meanness, and against no.qual ity is the trenchant force of national sarcasm so'contemptuously directed. For example, a : master leaving a penurious bouse Charges-his servant who has accompanied him, with the common failing, “Jamie; you are drunk 1” “Indeed, sir,” answers Jamie, with inefiable disdain, “Iwish I was." 1 , How fine is the irony. It might not have been good for Jamie, but at least it would have beep a .credit to thehouse. THE BHADOW-AHGEI.. Dreary, and desolate, and lonely it stood. 1 There were mountains around, gleaming with brightness and beauty, \ but the Mountain of Shadows was neither bright nor beautiful: no trees whose interlacing branches were made me lodious by bird and breeze, no mossy carpet mo saio-paterned by that subtle sunlight that so loves in dim forest and glorious mountain to edge with gold the restless leaves, and clothe in gayesf robes rough bark and bare rock, ren dering uncoutbnees attractive; no charmed fairy circle which the moon makes with his sil ver sheen to w.oc Titania ahcTKer merry court; no flowers to- exhale fragrance as ißolua lifts their gay.corollas, waking them by his cool breath from passionless dreams; no chattering brook Naiad-haunted—tumbling over rocks in seething eddies, and anon settling itself into such a polished calm that Narcissus might choose to be mirrored there forever; no mis chief-loving squirrel or downy, fay-ridden rab bit to frisk among the verdure ; no, none of these made glad the Mountain of Shadows, but all was dark, and desolate, and lone. And yet, strange to say, a maiden dwelt there, more desolate and lone than the mountain.— Her dark hair fell, with its tiara of grey mist, in changing masses over her shoulders; melan choly had 1 stamped on Up and brow and the cheek an imprint which Time’s effacing linger might not touch. Her eyes ! oh, those eyes in to whioh you sought to penetrate their ry. They were home's perpetual shadows, tell ing of a spirit on which a doom has fallen—a doom which closes over hope with the remorse lessness of a prison gate, fading memories of the past and vain yearings for the future, ,to dash themselves weariadly against its horizon folds. She had-a doom, and this it was—to olond the brow and shroud the spirit of every mortal ushered through mysterious gates of darkness into life never-ending. She haunted the tear ful child, the man perplexed with care, the toil ing statesman, the king, the slave. Mankind acknowledged her influence, for human hearts are alike in all ages, only the variation in out ward surroundings lends to the same joys, the same sorrows, the shiftingphases of tne kaleid oscope. She had come with the {Death-Angel —she was the child of Sin. Where had she not been ? Her feet had trod den the palaces of all the cities of the past, her footstep’s echo may be heard in every hall of the present. The ancient palaces are crumbled and her brooding wings enfold not their ruins, but the dust of them that w6re merry in love and gay revel, that were fierce in hate and war, that were sorrow-stricken and afflicted within their marble walls, hang with the purple of Tyre and glittered in adornings of gold and gems. (f Who could withstand her ? With form in visible to mortal eye, with step that left no sound in its coming. Man yielded in the young years of the world, their lips uttering wails of anguish; philosophers, "in the golden age of art and poesy, taught them to clothe their souls in impenetrable garments of stoicism. Vain ! she came rending them—and they stood before her trembling and exposed. Did she never relent? did she never pity? was her heart stone? Her heart did pity, but .thp doom was on her—she might not lift it.— A higher power guided her wanderings' to and fro through;the earth; she might not stay her hand—she must obey, i There oamb a man into the world, a man of sorrow—“ one acquainted with grief”—the hand of the shadow-angel was not lifted off his brow—he was “to bear our infirmities.” 0! haunted, shadowed soul, lay your burdens on Him, and when the angel comes, look up, that heaven’s pure light of unutterable peace may dispel the,darkness and the sin-gloom. The Origin op “ Pent up Utica.”—Every body has beard the lines, “ No pent up Utica contracts our powers, But the whole boundless continent is ours.” But very few people kriow-the author, or in what poem they occur. iThe Portsmouth (KT. H.) Journal says they were written by one Jonathan Mitchell Sewell,i a Portsmouth poet, as an epilogue to Addison’s play of Cdto, on the occasion of its performance by an amateur company in that place in 1778. The whole production was one pf decided power. - The spirit of, the Revolution entered into every ex pression. We give a few lines: Rise, then, my countrymen, for fight prepare, Gird on your swords, and fearless rush to War ! For your grieved country nobly dare to dip, And empty all your veins ior liberty. No pent-up Utica contracts our pow’rs. But the whole boundless continent is oars. Utica, a town older than anyjn the vicinity of ancient Carthage, was the place where Cato died. This fact, with the [-above extracts, will, sufficiently explain one of the most expressive quotations in our language—a quotation which has been made! by the most distin guished orators, Webster Among them. Mertz Meyer, a German [brewer, leaning over a large vat of lager bier, at Cincinnati, was suffocated by inhaling carbonic acid from the mixture. j Rates of Advertising. Advertisements trill be charged $1 persqtu re of IQ liner, one or three Insertions, and 26 cents for every subsequent insertion. Advertisements of Jess than 10 lines considered as a sqnnre. The subjoined rates will be obarged for'Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly ad. vertlseinonts i - , Square, - 2 do. i column, . 4 : • do. Column, - Advertisements not having tbe camber of insertions desired marked upon them, will be published until or dered out and charged accordingly. . Posters, Handbills, Bill-Heads, Letter-fiends and el 1 kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, ex ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices', Constable’s :■ and other BLANKS constantly on hand. i T °V 15 . In 1846, not long after the murder of Col. Davenport, on Rooky Island when many parte of the West were filled with criminals of every grade and hue, and, the traveler had good cause tp be suspicious of all he met, I was journeying on horseback through the northern part of Illi nois, then but sparsely settled. My compan ion was an only sister just recovered" from a lingering attack of fever. . We had buried both of our parents and an only brother upon the other side of .the Father of 'Waters, and were now.wending our way back to New England, the land of our nativity. One evening, just as the poo-Avas setting we emerged upon a broad prairie, itretohod beyond us as far aa the eye could reach— Ten .dreary miles bad been traversed sinced we had seen a bouse, and now thb little log cabin which gree ted our sight was as welcome as the oasis to the tired Arab. Riding up to the door,' an old woman of ferocious appearnce answered my summons. And in reply to my question of how far it was to; tbe next house,- grunted out that it: was twenty-eight miles-. - . 1 Here was a dilemma. Our horses were al ready jaded, and my sister-so fatigued that She could scarcely retain her seat in the saddle. To precede was impossible, to remain there, I felt a strange presentiment would be but court ing death. From a whisper consultation with my sifter, I found that she shared my suspicious respecting the old woman and the character of the house. Finally, of the two alternatives, wo decided to ask for lodgings.' The Old woman made seme excuse—said there was but one bed in the,house besides her own and, that she was not'prbpared to take travelers. As I was well armed—not without some ex perience in hand to hand fighting, and could have a a bSd for my sister, I.deoided to remain in preference to venturing across in the night." As we dismounted from our horses, a villainous looking man, apparently twenty-five y ears old, came up from a ravine beyond the house, with a gun upon his shoulder and a large hunting knife’iu his belt. He. did not look us in the face bat cast sidelong glances, indicative of one whose conscience waS.ill at ease. After a supper of venison and corn bread, of which’my sister and myself partook spar ingly notwithstanding our long fast I reques ted that my sister might be shown to bed. As there was but one below, we knew' the bed must be in the loft, the floor of which was laid “ puncheons,” leaving many broad cracks. As cending by a ladder, I accompanied my siste { r to the room above, and having viewed the place and. some what reassured her, deoended to pass halfan hour with my hostess and her son. i Upon engaging her in conversation, I learn ed that she was formerly from Tennessee.— That her husband bad been killed about a year previous in a fight about a claim, and that she was intending to return the next month to her native State. As I became more acquainted with her, my fears subsided, and when I.finally decided to retire to the room above, intending to sit up and watch all night, I forgot my overcoat, in which were my pistols and bowie kijjfe. My sister was still awake, and I was rejoiced to find like me her fears were gone. Seating myself upon-a chair without any back I leaned against the wall, and was dropping into a doze, when I was startled by hearing whispers at the' foot of the ladder. Cautiously rising to my feet, I peered through a wide crack, and distinctly saw the old woman sharpening the huge hun ting knife, which now looked doable its natural size. At the same moment the young man leaned agaist a stick in the corner, causing it to fall to the hearth. “■Hush!” whispered the old woman, “you will wake them .up." In a moment, like a shook of electricity, a full sense of our awful situation rushed' upon my mind ; I had evidently been wheedled into confidence by the old hag, that she might the more easily murder us. And my pistols 1 O, horrors, they were beyond my reach, and I could see nothing, save the chair with which to defend myself. Had I been alone,'J think I should not have lost my presence of mind. But my sister the only near relative I bad on earth, —the life of my sister hung upon my protection, and bygone of those strange contradictious in nature, when I should been the mhst active, I sank down on the chair perfectly paralyzed. I now distinctly heard the old woman ascen ding the ladder, but to save my life I could not move a > muscle. Fortunately my sister was asleep, jrnd jn ray dreadful extremity I was tso base as'to hope that the blow might he struck with unerring certainty, that.she might awake to consciousness only in the land of spirits. On came the old woman—l saw her grisly head as it peered in the loft—saw the lig|t in one hand and the horrible knife-in the other saw her turn her glaring eyes full upon me— saw the demoniac scowl upon her withered features—still I could not move. The agitation of that moment if meted out in ordinary propor tions, would make a man miserable for a thou sand years. ; When I could bear it no. longer—just as I, was about to swoon—the old woman reached forward, and with an iron grasp, seized a leg of venison, from which she cut several slices and retired to the room below; We bad vent* son for breakfast the nest morning. Over-woeked Women.— An overworked wb. man is always a sad sight; sadder a great deal than an overworked man, because she is so much more fertile in capacities of suffering than a man. She has so many varieties of headache,' sometimes as if Jael were driving the nail that killed Sisera into her temples, sometimes letting her work fall with half her brain, while the throbs as if if would go to pieces ; sometimes tightening round the brows ais if her cap’s bands were £uke’s iron orown; and then her neural gias and her back aches, and her fits of depres sion, in whioh sb» thinks she is nothing, and those paroxysms which men speak slightingly of as hysterical convulsions, that is all, only not commonly fatal ones; so many trials which be long-to her fine’ and mobile structure, that she is always entitled to pity when she is placed in conditions which (i»vel.ipe her nervous tenden cies.— Dr. O. )>’. 3 uonrns. 6 uoviaa, 12 moxth t. s3,Off $4,50 $6.00 6,00 ,6,80 M 0 7,00 J 8,50 8,00 9,50 12,50 15.00 20,00 25.00 35,00 50,0 f AH' HOUE OB’ HOBBOS, BT W, H. C, 10,09