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AdmintstratOrra cud Auditor'', Notices, .
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line each untruiritudit Insertion; , •
' Tea lines %Die crotirtituto e'ruunre.
WILLS &
IREDELL, Panuenens.
ALX,EN'4'OWN; PA.
t•,
" Bu be good, won't we, moder?"
An rom off my lap he slid,
Digging deep among the gOodies
In his crimson stockings Lid ;
While I turned me to my table,
Where a tempting goblet stood,
Brimming high with dainty egg 7 nog,,
Bent me by a neighbor good. •
But the kitten, there before me,
With his whiteraw, nothing loth,
fiat, by 'tray of entertainment;
Slapping oil tho shining froth ;
And In not the gentlest humor,
At the loss of such a treat,
I confess I rather rudely
Thrust him out into the street.
Then how Bcnule's blue eyes kindled !
Gathering up the precious store
Bo had busily been pouring
In his tiny pinafore ;
With a generous look that shamed me,
Sprang he from the carpet bright,
Showing, by his mien indignant,
All a baby's sense of right.
"Came back, Hanley," called he loudly,
As he held Ms apron white;
" You shall have my eandy.wabblt !"
But the door was fastened tight ;
So he stood, abashed and silent,
In the centre of the floor,
With a defeated look, alternate
Benton me and on the door.
And while eagerly his bright eyes
Watched the flames go higher and higher,
Inn, brace, clear key he shouted,
Like some lordly little elf,
" Banta Kays come down de chimney,
Make my moder 'have hereof!"
"I will be a good girl, Bennie,"
Bald I, feeling the reproof,
And straightway recalled poor Harney,
Mewing on the gallery roof.
Boon the anger was forgotten—
Laughter chased away the frown,
And they played beneath the live oaks
Till the dusky night came down.
In my dim, tire-lighted chamber,
Harney purred beneath
And my playwomWlZ:tido
Knelt to say his evening prayer : .
"God bens fader, God bees moder,
God bees slster"—thon a pause,
And the sweet young lips devoutly
Murmured, "God best Santa Rause."
Ho Is sleeping—brown Mul silken
Lie the lashes long and meek,
Like caressing, clinging shadow'
On his pimp and peachy check
And I bend above him, weeping
Thankful tears—O, undefiled
For a woman's crown of glory,
For the blessing of a child !
• •
WRY AUNT MARY - NEVER
MARRIED.
Aunt Mary, was what the world called an
"old maid ;" but to those whokuew her best,
she was l the dearest and best aunt in the world ;
and many a time used we to inquire, " Why is
Aunt Mary an old maid ?" But some how
we could never get a very definite answer ;
and we came to consider it a forbidden sub
ject yet were certain that there was some cause
_for it all.
Aunt Mary was our mother's only sister, and
she lived alone at the old farm-house, where
her parents had lived and died ; and yet hard
ly alone, for there was Ellen, " the maid of all
work," and Joe who worked the farm, and
then we girls and Brother Tons used to visit
, there, once in a while, as an especial reward
L. for good conduct. She was probably forty
years of age; though she did not look so old,
still retaining much of her former beauty. Her's
was a gentle, quiet manner, and she was one
of those kind of people who accomplish so
much with so little noise.
Her dark brown hair was always brushed
smoothly back from her pale forehead and
bound In a coil at the back of her exquisitely
shaped lMad. Her dress was invariably plain
and neat, and without ornaments.
'Yt was nearly a year since I had visited at
Aunt Mary's, and it was almost Thanksgiving
. day, when my mother received a letter from
__._her inviting_us_all _to-spend that day-at - her
house. Unfortunately my parents had already
accepted a pressing invitationto visit, an uncle
on my father's side, and were obliged, though
reluctantly, to decline that from Aunt Mary ;
but after a great amount of coaxing on our
part thiy consented to allow Mille sister Haile
and myself to accompany Brother Tom, there,
In the carryall. We left home in high glee and
after a three hours, pleasant ride through the
clear November air, reached aunt's . the day
before Thanksgiving,
We found her looking for us, though she
was considerably disappointed in not seeing onr
' parents, but declared, as she marshaled u 3 into
the house and helped to remove our wrappers,
that "we would have the happiest Thanksgiv
ingof any of them ;" and to increase our plea
mire, if that were possible, she informed us
that some distant relatives of ours were' also
coming to spend the d'hy, and would be there
that evening ; so we would have quite a party
after all. Just before dark they arrived—two
skis a little older than Myself, and it boy of
about Tom's age.. . •
. _
_ •
.
' . •
, .
„.., - . . • " ~,r •.•-d •; -t, '...-; w,:i . ••:, ; za. :••,: , .. • '.. •': ; • tillhil •.•' - - • ... ;'' - - * -...• ' . • . ' . . - -* ' . . . • •
. . .
.. .
. ,
...,
. ,
VOL. XXIII.
Aunt Mary hndbeen busy all day in super
ntonding.preparations for tho:following (lay ;
and such preparations were never made before.
Such a time as Joe, the hired man, had killing
urkeys and geese ; and then Ellen was up to
ter elbows In raisins, preserves and jellies all
day while such unheard of puddings and such
wonderful pies as came out, from under the
dexterous hands of Aunt Mary were a perfect
marvel of cookery. We really thought she
was making preparations on a scale of such
magnitude that she might have furnished a
whole neighborhood with a Thanksgiving din
We children had gathered In the huge old
sitting-room, just after supper, waiting for
Aunt ➢Lary to finish the preparations for the
morrow still going on in the kitchen, when the
conversation, naturally enough, turned on
the excellencies of our hostess, and all ugreea
that there was never anybody equal to Aunt
Mary.
" What is the reason ?" said Edith, one of
the girls, finally, in a half-whisper, "that she
was never married ?"
" I think," answered Brother Tom, stoutly,
that it's because there was never anybody
good enough for her to marry:"
"And I guess," piped in little Katie, "that
she had to take care of grandpapa and grand
mamma, and that's the reason."
All of us, in turn, suggested a reason, and
still were satisfied with none of them, until
some one proposed that we ask her, to which
we alj,consented, and I was selected as the one
best suited to perform that delicate task.
At last the thanksgiving arrandements were
all completed; and Aunt Mary came in and
seated hersplf with us. As Boon as an oppor
tunity presented itself, I ventured to say :
" Aunt Mary, will you please tell us a sto
ry. ?" •
" A story, Susie ! What shall I tell you
about 4"
"Yes, yes I tell us I tell us I" all exclaimed,
QOM
In a moment I regretted that I had made
such a request, for Aunt Mary's usually pale
face,grew suddenly paler, and she turned her
.head to conceal her emotion. She sat a few
moments struggling to overcome the feelings
our thoughtless wards had awakened; then
turned toward us and said, in a more solemn
tone than I had over heard her use :
"Yes, children I will tell you the story of
my life, and I trust the recital will prove a
lesson to you all."
Drawing her chair to one side of the huge
brick fire-place, where the fire-light no longer
shone in her face, and taking up her knitting
work, she began :
" It is almost twenty years since the events
lam about to relate occurred, and yet they
are as fresh in my mind now as they were then,
and their memory will go with me all through
life. I was then called beautiful, and I knew
it, and was very proud. My parents often re
proved me for my vanity, but with little effect.
I loved admiration, and took every means to
win it, I bad a great many suitors, and began
to imagine that I had only to say the word to
bring any one I wished to my feet; but as yet
I had.neyerinet_onfi.that swit.A
taste, arid so I continued my unwomanly pm
thne of winning hearts only to cast them aside.
"One Fourth of July I was invited to at-
tend a picnic and celebration some miles from
home, and as I never missed the opportunity
of going where I should be admired, I, of
course, accepted it.
" Soon after reaching the grounds a friend
ofinind approached me and :laid, In a light
tone:
. Come, Mary : I wish to introduce you to
the orator of the day, Mr. George Turner ;'
nud she took my arm and led me toward a dis
tant part of the grove.
" It was customary, some years ago, to hold
picnics for the purpose of listening to public
speakers, and the one in question was not only
as I afterwards learned to celebrate the anni-
versary of our national independence, but also
to listen to all address to be delivered by a
young graduate from a neighboring college.
" Wlo is this hero r I asked, laughingly,
as Louisa pulled me along.
"'Why he is a young fanner who has edu
cated himself, and worked his way through
college. Everybody says Via sure to,.distin
guish himself, though lie is quite poor now.
You will be sure to like him when you Come
to hear him speak,' she exclaimed with enthu:
siasm ; and then laughingly added, in a lower
tone, expect nothing else than love at first
sight,. on both sides.'
" Don't be foolih,' I said, pretending to
be very angry, though in fact I Telt quite elaWl
at the -thought that I was to have the chare
o make another conquest
" By this time we had reached the stand,
near which the orator stood, and, while wait-
ing for a chance to be presented, I had a good
Opportunity of noticing his appearance which
was very striking. He was about twenty
three years old, tall and symetrically formed ;
his dark, curly hair shaded a brow of peculiar
breadth and phrenological development ; his
countenance was the most expressive one
ever beheld, and his calm blue eye seemed a
deep and fathomless as the waves of the se
Ills face was not really handsome, but it w
one of those which once seen is never for
ten—ono that almost seems to bear 11 nark
of divinity. I heard him speak • .ns voice
was clear as a flute, an i,„ a remarkable
fullness, and there neve Gas heard, mingled
with its utterances, a t cordant sound.
" We were Presen •d to each other, and
were soon in conv rsation. instead of the
foolish nothings that most men address to wo
men—as though they were a species of talka
tive magpie, incapable ofappreciating anything
beyond a lap-dog or the last novel—his words
were full of deep and intelligent meaning, and
at once charmed and interested the listener.
• " Before I went home that evening I knew
that I met my destiny.
" A--few days after Mr. Turner called at our
house, and soon became a frequent visitor. He
seemed to be aware of my feelings—to read
them intuitively—and instead of the flatteries
of my former suitors, he was continually sug
gesting impiovements. Thls'plqued me more
than I can tell. I had thought •to bring him
to my feet, and yet somehow he never Was a
suitor in the sense of the word that others
had been." •
"One day—it was the one before Thanks
giving—ho' surprised me by saying, abruptly :
": Mary, will you marry me V
" Had a thunderbolt fallen at my feet, it
would have taken me no more by surprise,.
yet I had long been conscious of Mr. Turner's
feelings toward myself ; but none of my for
mer lovers had ever addressed me: in such a
:matter-of-fact way, and my heart rebelled at
being thus taken by storm ; and I exclaimed
petulantly . . •
" Don'tbe a fool, Mr. Turner and snatch
.ed my hand, which ho had taken in his, away,
walked to the window and stood looking • out
upon the lawn. " I expected ho would follow
ALLENTO VN, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, JANUARY 13, 1869
me and renew his suit'; buthe I no such
thing, though I was consch u le s d look
ingv at me a few moments, ho I would no tur i
my head. Standing there in my fordish pride,
driimming on the pane, I was casting away
the happiness of a lifetime. Suddenly he turned
from the room, and in a moment Inure I saw
him passing down the graveled walk.
"At first I was on the point of calling him
back, and if he had once loolibid toward the
casement at which I stood I should lone done
so. But he ilnly walked through the little gate
and strode 'rapidly down the road. As lie
passed the window, I saw that his face was as
pale as death.
" I waited the next day expectantly, and a
hundred times glanced down the road, in hopes
to see him coming ; but he did not come, and
Le has never come. I never saw him again.
"A few days after I learned he had sailed
for Europe. I have not even heard his name
for many years."
Aunt Mary ceased, and wiped awaY the tears
that stood in her eyes.
After a few minutes of silence, little Katie
asked :
"And if he.had come back, Auntie, should
you have said `yes?'
" Yes, darling,'' Aunt Mary replied, ns she
took the little one up and kissed her.
" Mary," spoke a deep bass voice behind us,
at which we all sprang to our feet, and standing
in the doorway was a stranger who MO noise
lessly entered as we were listening to Aunt
Mary's story. •
At the sound of the name she had started to
her feet and stood as pale as marble, staring at
the apparition.
The stranger took a step forward, saying,
" I have come to ask you again ; darling, will
you say yes ?"
• "Yes," faintly answered she, and in an in
stant'she was weeping in his arms.
In a few moments she gently disengaged
herself and presented the stranger as the hero
of the story.
•
The rest is soon told.
Mr. Turner, believing he hail been mistaken
in thinking his jafrection was returned, had
gone to Europe, filially amassed a fortune, and
had made his home in England. Alew months
before Thanksgiving party,he had met in Lon
don an old acquaintance, -from whom he had
learned that Mary had never married. Ile
guessed the truth and returned. On reaching
the old farm-house his repeated knocks had
failed to awaken a response : and he entered
the house in time to hear the conclusion of
Aunt Mary's story, with the result which the
reader already knows.
He declared that thefliad both lost so much
time that they ought to.delay no longer, and
the next day before we sat down to dinner, a
certain interesting ceremony was performed
by which Aunt Mary was no longer an " old
maid," and for every one of us, I'll venture to
say, it was the happiest Thanksgiving we ever
enjoyed. And every year since when the
good time approaches. the memory returns of
" Aunt Mary's Thanksgiving." •
ASA PACKER
EIADMa6}I
Anthracite coal was first used in the Wyo
ming Valley, Pennsylvania, in the year 1708.
A blacksmith, whose , name is unfortunately
unknown to the writer, was the first man to
utilize, in his inconsiderable country smithy,
this valuable mineral. It was not until one
hundred years afterward, in 1808, that Judge
Fell, of Wilkesbarre, first used it in a grate for
heating his family mansion.
As late as 1820 the mining of anthracite coal
may hardly be said to have begun, for the pro
duction in that year did not exceed 305 tons,
or one ton for each day. Half a century later,
in 1860, the annual production had reached
18,000,000 tons, or 84,000 tons per day. A
recent writet'ion the coal fields, in summing up
the amazing development of this great interest,
says : " Little did the toiling wagoner who,
over rough and mountainous roads, slowly
pushed his way towards Philadelphia, with
his heavily-loaded wagon with this new and
little-understood Article of fuel, realize that the
child that passed him by the roadside would,
ere his head was mantled by silvery locks, see
a capital of one hundred and fifty million dol
lars invested in the transportation routes for
carrying this article to market, or that it would
- become a necessity in every household. It is
probably within bounds to say that in mines
developed and undeveloped, idmine improve
ments, and in the cost of construction and
equipment of water ways and railways, the
anthracite trade of Pennsylvania, at tlie pres
ent time, represents a property yaluation . of
three hundred and fifty million dollars. Great
as is this growth, and enormous as are the fig
ures, the trade is by thinking men believed to
be yet in its infancy."
To trace the course of this development :
how wagons were supplanted by arks ; arks
by canal boats ; canal boats by gravity rail
roads, and these by locomotive roads, and
nonuments of engineering skill proportionate
to the vast operations of the presetit time, is
impossible within the limits of this article. It
is our purpose .to glance at the• history .of one
individual whose life has bee'n mainly spent in
pushing forward the great works which have
largely contributed to this enormous growth,
and indirectly to the prosperity and comfort of
millions of the _American people. '
Asa Packer was born in the township of
Groton, New London county, Connecticut, in
the beginning of the year 1800. His grand
father, Elisha Packer, was the most prominent
and successful business man of his native town.
He was a farmer, tanner, and shoe manufac
turer, diligent in business, and not neglectful
of those higher responsibilities which he in
herited with his puritan blood. He was a
staunch member of the Baptist denomination,
and worshipped in the church erected on the
site of the old Pequot Fort, still in existence.
and known as the Fort Hill Church. Ilia
father, Engin Packer, Jr., was a man of strong
sense, industrious, economical, and of inde
pendent character, but never very successful
in business. A younger brother of his father,
Daniel Packer, however, had a watchful eye
to the interests of hie nephew, and as spon as
Asa was of an age to do something for himself,'
this Bald Packer got him a situation in the
tannery of Mr. Elias Smith, of North Stoning
ton. Although Asa Packer had enjoyed very
limited opportunities of education, these had
enabled him to master the rudiments 'of knowl
edge, and he made every effort to improve his
mind, and increase his store of information.
By diligence, faitlifillness and goon} temper,
the 'first indications of a manly character, to
won the confidence, and ultimately the affec
tion of his employer. Despite his youth, ho
came to be regarded by . the tanne) , as a confl
dential.friend'andtulviser, and if deth had not
interposed and broken the connection, Asa
.Packer would probably have become a partner
in the establishment, and ended hia ;life as a
tanner. During Mr. Smith's last illness, Asa
MIS his trusted manager, and after the hours
EMI
After the death of Mr. Smith, Asa engaged
himself to a farmer by time name of John Brown.
This farmer was a man of strong character,
and still stronger convictions. lie }vas hard
landed and hard-headed, able either to hoe
his own row in the corn-field, or hold hie own
ground in debate. lie was a Democrat of the
school of Thomas Jefferson, and always ready
to maintain his opinions by reasonable argu
inent, and never so happy fns when pitted
aNinst a worthy antagonist. From this farmer
Asa Packer got the bias which. has ever In
clined his heart and his Judgment to the party
which is now known as the Democratic
After passing a year with the old farmer,
summering 511(1 wintering with him, talking
over hi the long days of labor every subject
connected with the business of farming, rind
the duties of the citizen, and getting discipline
both of body and of mind of the most valuable
kind, Asa went back to Mystic, and spent a
year at home. During this year he attended
school, and having learned the value of knowl
edge, he applied himself' to study, and arrived
at considergble proficiency in those branches
w•hioli are most useful in the practic4l affairs
of life.
Like all young men of New England, when
Asa reached seventeen years •of age, lie felt
that it was time for him to make a serious
effort to establish himself in the world. At
this time Pennsylvania was attracting great
numbers of Eastern men. The tide had not
yet set for the more distant Western portions
of our national domain. Taken up by the
current, in the year 1822, when but just seven
teen, Atli a knfipsadk which contained his
whole wardrobe, and a few dollars in his
purse; Aszt Packer set out on foot for Susque
hanna county, Pennsylvania. Arrived at the
town of Brooklyn, he apprenticed himself,
H
the trade of carpenter and joiner. e righ y
judged that a man In that frontier country was
measured by his power to wield the axe, and
that the skilled mechanic was the man for
whose services there would be the steadiest
and most profitable employment. This selec
tion of a trade which involved manly work,
showed the temper which the young man
brought to the task of making his way in a
rieWfield and among new friends..
After serving his time as an apprentice, and
becoming the toaster of his business, he con
tinued to work at it assiduously r several
( 41
years, when he invested his savii s in a lot
of wild land on the upper water. of the Sus
quehanna, and entered upon th hard nit free
and adventurous life of the pion T. le made
' a clearing, and reared with his Ow ads the
cabin to which lie soon after brought n bride.
The lady whom lie selected to be the mis
tress of his home was a daughter of Itopher
Blake'slee, a name that will be recognized even
now by many in Northern Pennsylvania.
-She proved a worthy wife to Asa Packer in
his early struggles. While lie was about his
work in the fields, or striking sturdy blows in
the forest which hemmed in his homestead on
every side, Mrs. Packer was equally hard at
work atteriding to the dons="--"main or use
"liinnfelisl47lTerifinTtile . fingers, with the aid
of the spinning -wheel, made all the garments
worn by the family thuitim the tint:, ten years
of their married life. There was no dispute
about the authority or sphere of either ; each
found appropriate work close at hand, and
was content with doing it, and with recipro
cating sympathy and counsel.
Here Asa Packer lived eleven years : The
circumstance which led to a change in his field
of labor; was oceasionet hy a necessitycom
mon to the more enter' sing pioneer settlers
—that of seeking employment In the thickly
populated distrislogirring a portion of the
year, in order to obtain ready money for taxes
and articles essential to home comfort and en
joyment. The nearest point where labor could
then command cash in hand was a hundred
miles away in the Lehigh valley. The journey
had to be made on foot, by paths through
rough mountain passes and the. forests which
stretched between the upper waters of the
Susquehanna and the Lehigh.
In the valley of the Lehigh, Josiah White
and Erskine Hazard, representatives of asso
ciated capital of Philadelphia, had projected
and executed improvements which made the
wonderful riches of this sectiuh—its coal, iron,
timber, lime, cement, and slate—partially
available. Hither came Asa Packer, a poor
artisan, to labor with his hands, to mix with a
crowd of men similarly employed and undis
tinguished. What has raised Asa Packer's()
far above the throng of which he then was but
a unit?
OhServing the character of the country, the
almost immeasurable extent of the coal
and the diversity of the rich productions
of the Lehigh valley, he foresaw the esiablish
ment of those extensive collieries, of lines of
transportation, and all the immense traffic
which time loss developed. Here was a field.
for the highest intelligence and the most on
tiring energy. Accordingly, in the spring of
1833, when he was twenty-seven years of age,
Asa Packer left his farm in. Susquehanna
county, and permanently. settled himself in
the Lehigh valley. Ills advent into a region
in which he was destined to accomplish so
much made no stir. Ile brought to the new
field but a few hundred dollars. His capital
lay in his active nand, stout heart, and strong
arms, and in industrious and thrifty habits.
Ilia first and second sunimers were employed
in boating coal from Mauch Chunk to Phila
delphia, in which lie acted as master of his
own laird. The energy which he displayed in
this occupation brought hint to the notice of
the Lehigh Coal and Navigation Company,
and he formed a connection with the company,
which was maintained for many years, greatly
to his advantage. ,
About,this time Mr. Packer made a visit to
his relations at Mystic. _To his brother, Robert_
Packer, and his uncle, Daniel Packer, lie gave
such an account of the advantages of the coal
region, that they were induced to accompany
him on his return. They visited in company
the collieries established in the valley, and
went over the great field just opening for bud
ness. Daniel Packer was so struck with the
magnitude of the opportunity, that he declared
that ago alone deterred him t closing his
business, and selling all his pr merty in Con
necticut, and coming to the ehigh galley.
He advised the brothers o Unite means and
engage in business at , Mauch Chunk, offering
to assist them with money and credit, and to
stand behind them in every emergency. This
advice exactly accorded with the views of Asa
Packer, and the two Withers immediately en
gaged in business in general morclumdiso in
Mauch Chunk; under the 'firm name of A. &
H. Packer, with a capital of five thousand
dollars. The most of this money had been
saved by Asa Packer froM the hard earnings
of former years.
The now house entered, from the moment
of opening, upon an extended and profitable
business. It soon became known by its large
transactions both on the Lehigh and Schuyl
kill rivers- Its operations on the Lehigh dur
ing the fifteen years between 1835 and 1850
embraced a large mercantile business at Mauch
Chunk ; contracts with the Lehigh Coal and
Navigation Company, which involved the
building of dams and locks on the upper nav
igation ; working coal mines leased from the
company, and afterward Mr. Packer's own
mina near Hazleton, and shipping coal to
Philadelphia and New York. A similar ship
ping business was also done by them on the
SClinylkill. They were the first through
transporters of coal to the New York market,
and it is a fitting return that the business should
still continue to he the largest item in the in
come of Asa Packer, its projecar. Through
his coal mining operations he was brought into
close relations With the late Commodore Stock
ton, and between them there sprung up a
warm friendship—a friendship which proved
of great Value to Mr. Packer at a trying mo
ment when pushing forward to completion
the great enterprise of his life, the Lehigh Val
le Railroad.
tp to the year 1850, the transportation of
lie coal of the Lehigh valley to market hind
,een altogether bY water, but the business had
now reached such .a magnitude as, in 'Mr.
Packer's judgment, to justify the building of
r4kip
along the banks of the Lehigh river.
Accordin ly he urged upon the Lehigh Coal
and Navi ation Company the policy of build
ing,. d as a part of their system of trans
port ion. But the projict was not favorably
rega ded by the company. Experience, it
wits answered, had firoved that coal and iron
would only pay water freights. The Reading
Railroad, which enjoys unusual facilities in
grades and water connections, was instanced
to clinch the argument. Asa Packer's opin-
i however, was not affected by this adverse
icism of his proposition, and lie determined
take the atter personally in hand.
'1 le ground for n railroad in the Lehigh
valley was embraced in a charter for a road
of much greater extent, projected by that great
Pennsylvania financier, Edward 11. Biddle.
It was embraced in the charter of the Dela
ware, Lehigh, Schuylkill and Susquehanna
Railroad Company, incorporated April 21,
1840. The first survey was made the fall
of 1850. Not until the 4th of April, 1851, sev
enteen days before the charter would have ex
pired by its own limitation, did Asa Packer
take his place in the board of managers. On
the same day the board sanctioned the grading
of a mile of railroad near Allentown, and
thereby the limitation was avoided. On the
10th of October, 1851, Mr. Packer became
owner of a controlling portion of the stock,
and subsequently submitted a proposition to
a build the road from Mauch Chunk to Easton,
distance of forty-six miles, for a consideration,
to be paid in the stock and bonds of the com
pany, the name of which was nowchanged to
the Lehigh Valley Railroad Company, to suit
its extent and true field of labor.
Mr. Packer's proposition was accepted, and
he commenced work in November, 1852.
Under his personal supervision it was 'pushed
tuublListuAl utne.i.o
=
and bonds in payment, he hazarded his whole
fortune In the enterprise. In its early coin-
pletion and profitable working, lie saw every
dollar of his Investment quadrupled, and every
acre of land in the Lehigh valley enhanced in
value. But it was a heavy load, aad many
times did it embarrass Mr. Packer to carry it ;
but his high character, and his reputation as a
business man, enabled loin to command re
sources which would have been at the ser
vice of no other. Commodore Stockton, the
New - Jersey Central Railroad Company, and
other rich corporations to whose business the
Lehigh road would contribute, also can, to
Mr. Packer's assistance, and made large ad
vances on its stock and biinds.
The Lehigh Valley Railroad was finished
and delivered to the company on the 24th of
September, 1855, and was puQuonediately in
operation. Its coal .freights, which in 1857
amounted to 500,000 tons, in the year 1800 ex
ceeded 2,000,000 tons,• 035,000 of which were
delivered along ittpute from Mauch Chunk
to Easton, to works which the railroad itself
had called into existence. The addition which
it brought to Asa Packer's fortune can be
stated only in millions.
Within three years after the opening of the
railroad from Mauch Chunk to Easton, with
connections which made a railroad route from
the valley to Philadelphia as well as New
York, Mr. Packer suggested the extension of
a line of railniad into the valley of the Susque
hanna„ and up that Valley to• the great table
lands of the State of New York, there to con
nect with New York and Erie Railroad. This
would . bring the anthracite coal region within
the system of roads leading north and west to
Lake Ontario and Lake Erie, and afford a di
rect route by connection with the Catawissa
and Erie roads to the Great West.
Asa Packer has lived to see the whole of
Ids stupendous conception realized. It is n
ossible td calculate the benefit which it is des
tined to confer upon the whole country. I
will Het the wheels of machinery in motiol
thousands of miles in the interior as well ns it
tidewater, anti bring about in a great sectim
of country that diversity of employment es
sential to the highest development of the pen
‘2,
On Ida return from a trip to Europe in 186.
Mr. Packer announced his intention to foul
in Lehigh valley an educational institution
which should, supply to its young ntm the
means of obtaining that knowledge of which
he had in his early life felt such a profound
need. The branches of education to which
it was Mr. Packer's design that the institution
should be especially devoted were civil, me
chanical, and mining •engineering ; general
and analytical chemistry ; mineralogy and
metallurgy ; analysis of soils and agriculture ;
architecture and construction; all branchesof
- knoWledge - of exceptional-value in_the Lehigh
valley. In carrying into effect his purpose,
Mr. Packer gavo a woodland park, sixty acres
in extent, situated on the borders of Smith
Bethlehem, and $500,000 in money.
This institution, known as the Lehigh Uni-
versity, was formally opened September 1,
1800, and its success has realized the intelli
gent and beneficent purpose of its founder.
By its charter it is made a self-sustaining. in
stitution ; intended to reach both rich and
poor with its advantages ; its free scholarships
being offered as prizes to be competed for by
all the students. No sectarian bigotry limits
its beneficent influence to a single religious de
nomination, but those of every creed find a
welcome to its halls.
On the 23d of. November, 1863,:at a dinner
given to Mr., Packer at Bethlehem, as a public
acknowledgment of his princely gift, at which
many of the most eminent men of the State
were present, Col. John W. Forney paid the .
following eloquent tribute to the guest of the
day : "'Hero is a character and a career for
youth and manhood to study. Hero is a les
son to the one to move on In the path of
provement, and a stimulant to the other never
to despair in the darkest hour, of disaster and
misfortune. We pick out Asa Packer as the
miner picks out a piece of coal to show the
value of the precious deposit from which it is
taken, we pick him out to show what can be
won by personal honesty, industry and kind
ness to men ; by courage in the midst of bad
luck ; by confidence in the midst of gloomy
prtiphecy ; fly modesty in prosperity, and by
princely generosity when fortune comes with
both hands full to realize a just ambition."
Among his intimate friends and associates W.
11. Gatzmer, the president of the Camden and
Amboy Railroad, bore high testimony to the
energy and ability with which Mr. Packer bad
carried out his great mining and railroad en
terprises, and acknowledged that although
Pennsylvania is only his adopted State, few
of her sons have done more to develop
her mineral resources.
Mr. Packer enjoys to the fullest extent the
confidence of the community in which he lives.
This it has shown by electing him to public
office whenever he could be induced to accept
it. He served his neighbors several years in
the General Assembly of the State, his services
there ending in the yeaf 1843. lle was then
elected judge of the county court, which posi
tion he held five years, and hence he, is fa
miliarly known as Judge Packer.
Mr. Packer's whole career exemplifies the
ith that imthe United States there is no die
ction to which any young man may not as
hire, and with energy, diligence, intelligence
and virtue, attain. Whe' he set out from
Mystic, Connecticut, to make the journey to
Pennsylvania on foot, it is not probable that
his entire worldly possessions amounted to
twenty dollars. These possessions are now
estimated at twenty millions, all of which has
been accumulated, so far as known, without
wronging n single individual. On the con
trary, the wealth which he has gathered is but
a tithe of that which he has been the means of
creating in the Lehigh Va
O'FLAIIERTY.
DENNIS AT HOME-AN UNPLEASANT RECEPTION
-110 W HIS POLITICAL FRIENDS STOOD BY
IIIM=" WANTED EMPLOYMENT."
LITTLE IRELAND, UNDER TILE HILL,
December 20, 1808.
\llH•ruml EDDITIIUR, back to inc
.shanty an' inc Judy an' the byes I am, but
the divil resayve me if it'd mesilf that's delited
wid the fact. It's a warrtun recipshatt, r an'
cowld wan besides I got. Whin I. put PM
head in the cabin wid " Save all here," It was
Judy that shtuck her fist& on her hips, an'
sex she, "So it's back yez arc ! Faix yer car
ner's'AVarrain for yez, ye murdherin' villin.
Shure there's never a bit av mate in the pot,
or a handful av male in the bag, or a purtaty
in the earner, an' is it the munney yez have
to get dinner wid for yersilf an' yer family,
I'd like to know I"
" Judy aga," sex I.
" None av yer mulvatherin," sed she ;
"have yez the munnei for the mate ?"
" Divil a cent," sex I.
"'Thin git out; yez dhrunken gommoch,"
sex sue, never nut yer ugly - phiz inside
the•dhure till yez bring in mate or moooy,t!
an' wid that she cum afthur me wid the bntm,
an' mesilf didn't shtay to see what she want-
Md. •
Its to the ould place and the earner I
find for consolayshun. '" Faix, its a dhrap av
the rnal shtuff 'ull go mity comfortin" this
cowld muffin'," sez I, whin I intered.
" An' have yez the munney fur that same'?"
sez me (mid friend as runs the shebeen house.
" Divil n cint,'s sez I but we'll take a
dhrink on the mild party," sez I.
".That's played out,". sez he. "The mild
party isn't in the licker bizness so much as it
wuz, an' it's the sphondulieks I'm Lakin' now
fur me whishky," see. he.
"An' where'll I be gettin' them ?" sez I.
" Wurruk see. he. "An' the nirlier ye
go at it, my bye, the betthur for yez."
The curse UV the (Towson the tight-skinned
tilde, to be thratin' me so ondacint whin it's
meself had bin dhrinkin' be the wake in his
Place at the ixpinse av the party I But it wuz
furwurruk I whit, and a weary tramp I had,
an' it's not yit I'll be ilndin' it. It's too busy
the glillemin all wile. to see me, though it wiz willinta friendly enuff they woe. before
il-
I wuz powerfully tired and discour
aged, whin I seen a gintleman av me ackwin-
Wilco sthandin be his dhure.
" The tap av the manful' to yer banner !"
sez I. " Itnmitey glad Inm to see yer good
phis waist more*"
" Marnin'," sez he, az cowld an' az sharp
az an isikle.
" Shure an' its a real comfort to seen friend
ly face," set T.
" Wat the divil do you want, man ?" sez
lie slinappin' like a bull dog.
" Shure," sez I, "its wurruk,, yer !tanner,
that I may gefnmte nn' purtatles fur the mild
wmumen an' the childher."
" I've got no wurruk for yez," Bed he. '
"Will I lie :tither movin' ycr 'tape of coal t"
see I, fur it wuz shiandin` lukin at the same
he wuz.
"pWat'll yez fix me ?" Bed lie.
"A, dallier," sez I. ,
" Whoo 1 the divil l" sed he. " Ye're an
extortionate raskil," sed lie ; " fur I've hired
a naygur to do that same fur slvinty-five
chits !"
" An' is it a Dinunykrat like yersilfthat'ull
hire a bluddy naygur inehtid ay a good Dim
mykrat bye ?" eez
"AV coorse," sez he, "whin the naygur
wurruks the chaplet."
" An' wuzn't it yersilf," sez I, " that towid
us It wuz fur higliwages fur the poor man ye
wuz l"
" Maybe it wuz,', sez he ; "but that was
before illikshun, an'it was not thin I wanted
me coal carried in."
" Mud an' nuns I Thin will yez be sillier
kiil.l7 - ii - fe - the - price'av a - ditrink ?" sez fur
me throat is as (limy as powdhur."
" Divil a chit," sed he. " It's dhrinkln' Is
the ruin av yez all," sod he, an I'll be advisin
yez to rayform au' live sober—now that, the
illikshun's over an the timptashun gone."
Misthur Eddithur, its Kruk Intldrely me hart
iz wid the ingratitude av me purtinded Mae.
ItS not a nhtroko av wurruk I can'ght, or 's chit
av munney, or a dhrink av the erathurf an'
there's Judy waitin` fur nie In the shanty wid
a brunishtick an' a tung that's a dale longer
an'•harder. Will yez help a poor by printin'
tide advertisement that Paddy Mulcathy's bye
Owen, wat goes to shkule, rat out fur me ?
WANTED EMPLOYMENT—By a man 'accus
tomed to dirty work and carrying heavy loads.
Can refer for testimonials of his ability and will
ingness in these respects to the Democratic party
manners, who have no further use for his ser
vices, they having gone out of business. Apply to
Dennis O'Flaherty, Little Ireland, under the Mil,
or by letter to this office. • dec2l a
Plato Insirt this fora poor disthressed bye
an' send me army letters yez get fur me; an'
the blessin AV the sore-harted and sorrowful
be upon yez. DIANN O'Fwanzwrz.
3 7 . 11 1- 1 " 4 1 EDBILL t
.Main ano jYantg' 30k Vrit*4,
No. 47 EAST HAMILTON STREET
•
•
.•
ALLENioWN. R 4.
ELEGANT PRINTING. •
NEW DESIGNS,
LA* ,
• v ~: •
Bt rtirni2rt s zl.kVit g ife ir ggliticcf pe ; B oTni • e-
Hanlon.. Joetlor .6intlnOo .Laula '
Bills. Tagn and Shipp b
el., etc., oto.. Pzin et co,
NO. 2:
A SONG FROM THE Sin*
Queen of my tub, I merrily sing;
SVldlo the white foam rises high ;
And sturdily wash, and rinse, and wring,
And fasten the clothes to dry ;
Then out In the free fresh air they swing,
Under the sunny sky.
I wish we could wash from our hearts and souls
The stains of the week away, '
And let water and air by their magic make
Ourselves as pure as they ;
Then on the earth there would ho Indeed
A glorious washing-day
Along the path of a useful life,
Will heart's-ease ever bloom;
The busy mind has no time to think
Of sorrow, or care, or gloom ;
And anxious thoughts may be swept away,
As we busily wield a broom.
I am glad a task to Me Is given,
To labor at day by day ;
For It brings me health, and strength, and hope,
And I cheerfully learn to say—
" Head you may think, Heart you may feel,
But hand you shall work alway."
BY !LEARY WARD BEECITER
The word luck is too firmly. bedded in our
language, and belief in the fact expressed by
it is too strong to justify an expectation that
it will soon become obsolete. Luck is nn event
good or bad, which befalls a man independently
of his own volition. If a man Work all day for
five dollars, his wages is not considered luck
But if he finds five dollars in the road, that is
luck.
If a man aims at an accomodation train, but
hits an express train, which has been delayed
a little he is in luck. lie has secured what he
did not plan for. If the last boat of the sea
son leaves Albany for New York a day sooner
than the shipper had calculated, and lie loses
an opportunity of sending his freight, he ex
claims " that is just my luck."
Of the fact itself there can be no doubt. Ma
ny disappointments befall men which seem to
have no relation to their own agency. Many
places of good fortune occur which the recipi
ent did not plan, or look for.
But the cause of luck, thus defined, is anoth
er thing. If we could look into men's minds
and render clear those obscure and nebulous
thoughts that hover there, it would be found
probably, that very different notions are enter
tained about it. Some believe that there are
spirits, or sprites, whose power intercalates
these events upon the calendar of Nature.
Others seem to believe that in the vast realm
of Nature events are floating about like motes
in sunbeams, 'find that men accidentally stum
ble upon them. Some people believe it to be
a crook in the grain of things, some men be-.
ing born and destined to fulfill some mischie
vous decrees. "Do what they will, they can
never escape ill-luck." Were some men's no
tions analyzed, I should not wonder if it were
found that they still believe Luck to be a per
sonal being, as Puck, or Ariel who spent their
time in playing tricks upon men, good or bad,
according to their peculiar fancy.
But dismissing all these notions, there are
several pieces of general good or ill luck, which
have numb to - do with the special luck, that
befalls men, I count it a piece of prime and
admirable luck to be born of parents who had
sound physical constitutions, ample brains,
well proportioned and balanced, living in mod
erately prosperous circumstances. Next to this
is to be brought up in simplicity, among peo
ple kind and just, and under circumstances
which require one to exert himself actively, so
that he shall never expect to have anything
which he does not himself earn. Lastly, and
as a consequence of these, it is supreme good
luck to have a patient nature, too proud to do
evil, and not proud enough to take offense at
the common experience of life: as contented
as is consistent with enterprise, and above all,
with unwasting good nature.
This last quality—good nature—is perhaps
the most desirable of all, In so far as happiness
is concerned. Every one knows that it is su
gar in fruit that,gives it its palatableness, and ,
that converts Its juices into wine. Good na
ture Is to human dispositions what sugar is to
grapes.
A robust and cheerful nature hardly knows
the difference between good and bad', luck.
Sonic things, which extort piteous complaints
of had luck from his neighlers, befall him with
out exciting more than a moment's attention
—just as a healthy man does not feel n chilly
gust which sets an invalid into shivers.
11l luck hi petty affairs Is only another name
for want of foresight, unskillfulness, podrJudg
ment, clumsy-handedness, lack of spring and
enterprize. Few men arc willing to say that
their own blunders, negative or positive, return .
upon their own heads. Luck is to them a for
tunate work. Luck is a word that hides a
man's inefficioncy from himself, and saves his
pride.
Every one of us has lucky and Unlucky
dayit. Too much excitement, into hours, late
eating, poor sleep, and too little, of it, bring on
mornings full of depression—blue days in
which everybody and everything seem wrong.
Everything our hand touches falls. This is a
simple case in which respectable dissipatiOn
has put the whole instrument by which man
works, his brain and nervous system, out of
adjustment. His mistakes are no more surpris
lug than would boa mechanic's who worked by
a false rule, or a chemist's who measured by
incorrect standards.
By and by, rest, diet, and good habits restore
the equilibrium, and then comes a sparkling
day of good luck. Half the labor produces
twice the ordinary results. Wo meet the very,
person we desire most to see. Everything
goes on rightly. The world is propitious.
In olden times, when necromancers would
till the air with spirits, they had potent spells,
cabalistic formula, and various charms by width
to evoke and control evil spirits. There is a
much shorter and surer way than all that to fill
heaven and earth with demons. Put 'your
liver out.of order.__That is a
_spell that never
fails. Dyspepsia will raise more devils in ono
day than ever Merlin could in a year.
A good man, in good health, engaged In
business for which he is fitted, and.contented,
g
will always be In luck. •
. Poor luck goes with slender jud t, with
Indolence, with supersensitive pride, Ith in
digestion, with torpid livers, With , ' less
ness and stupidity. ..A - ,
As all of us have flecks and'tints of all these
.elements, at times, so we all or•us have our
share of bad luck, • The height of 11l loci is to
be born badly, - to live badly, and to die badly,
Let every man blame himulffor all his bad
luck, and he will find a, cure for more than half
of it. The rest is imaginary.. - '
—" Capital weather,. Mr. Jones ; capital
weather. My wife's got such a cold that elle
can't speak. , • I like such weather as this."
' —"I dew declare, Sal I If You don't look
purty enough tow eat I" ,
" Wall, Solomon, a'n't I eating as fast tui
can I" replied Sal, with her moutlifull:
LUCK.
n i•.'; '