ftMtt M jfO 111.
. i 1 . , - , . ,. .,. r, i , - - . - ' '' " - - - " " " " ""
VOL. 5 -NO. 45.
BY S. B.
OLEAMIELD, PA, WEDNESDAY, JULY 6, 1859.
I SAT THINKING.
I Sat thinking idly dreaming
Of the friends my heart once knew.
Till my fancy brought their beaming,
Laughing faces back to view ;
'Olden pleasures, scenes of childhood, '
Passed along in shadowy train.
Till I roamed once more the wildwood,
And I was a boy again ;
back through years of sin and sorrow,
., O'et bright hopes that could not last,
Till niy heart did eager borrow
, Sunlight from tho buried past.
As these phantoms by mo glided,
In the twilight dimly there,
I heard again the voice that guided
Aline so oft in infant prayer.
Quickly turning, to be grasping
Her pure bund within rny own.
Naught before me nothing clasping
For ths vision fair iiad flown.
O, my tt6raer, years may vanish,
Disappear in Time's dark sea;
Naught of earthly grief can banish
Thy remembrance dear from mc.
COPYRIGHT SECrREI.
Clearfield county:
OR, REMINISCENCES OF THE PAST.
Tnrncr is represented as a remarkable man ;
powerfully built, bold, daring and quick at
cotfeeiving and carrying his projects into cx
oct?on. Hunting near John Ferguson's, in
1813, he was convinced that bis dog, "Ilun
ter," had treed cither a panther or a wild-cat,
from the peculiar noise which he made. Pro
ceeding in the direction of the noise, he soon
observed a panther in a tree. As he approach
ed, tho beast let gc its hold, dropped upon the
dog, and seized it. Turner's gnn missing
fire, he threw it down, and went to the assist
ance of the dog. Grasping the panther by the
tail, the animal gave np its hold upon the dog
and turned towards Turner. 'Hunter,' fright
ened by the first encounter, refused to lay
hold again. It did not take Dan. long to de
termine whether he or the panther were
caught. Having great muscular strength,
Dan,oa straightening himself up, was able to
raise the bind legs of the panther off the
ground, and keeping it at arm's length, pre
vent it doing bim any harm. His sitnation was
extremely critical, yet he dared not let go his
hold, neither cotiM he calculate what would
be the termination of the adventure. The pan
ther, walking on its for legs, would turn to
wards the right to reach its captor, when Dan
would thrust its posteriors into its face, caus
ing it to take to the left, where it would meet
with similar treatment and reverse its course.
Thus Tnrner struggled for near a quarter of
an hour, when his son, Joseph, who had been
attracted to the spot by the shouts of bis fath
er, relieved bim from his perilous situation by
sinking a tomahawk into the skull of the pan
ther. On another of his numerous hunting excur
sions, he wtmnded a large panther, which took
retuge in a cave in the rocks. Having a short
sword, which he carried on such occasions,
and which could be screwed on to the muzzle
of his rifle and used as a bayonet, he boldly
followed the panther into the cave and de
spatched bim with this weapon. Here was
courage equal to Putnam's in the wolf story.
Speaking of tho wolf, brings to mind a night
lie passed with the wolves in the Alleghenies.
He had followed an Elk, which ho had wound
ed, until evening, when he reached it far up
in the mountains. . While dressing the dead
Elk, tho wolves began to howl around him, and
feeling that it would be unsafe to remain on
tie ground, he ascended a tree. The wolves
soon collected in large numbers, and began to
devour the elk. Turner fired away at them
until he had exhausted his stock of bullets.
All rfight long he was obliged to listen to the
howls of these beasts, to their snarls and fight
ing over the remains of the elk, and the
craunchiog of tho bones between their jaws
told him too plainly what would have been his
fate, had he remained on tho ground. With
the approach of light the wolves skulked a
waj, when he got down, and on hunting a
rouud, found seven dead. ones. How many
more had been killed, or wounded, ho had no
means of ascertaining.
Once, when going out to a "bear wallow,"
his attention was attracted by a panther acting
in a strango manner. Ho soon saw a large
lcar approaching it. With hair erect and eyes
glaring, the panther gnashed his teeth, and
waiting until Bruia came convcnt'ly near,
sprang upon her. A mortal struggle ensued.
Turner watched with much interest the fight,
which lasted some ten minutes or more. At
length the growls of the fierce combatants be
came faint, and the struggle ceased. The
panther slowly disengaged himself from his
-dead enemy, and took position upon tho car
cass. It was noxr Turner's time, and raising
his rifle he shot the panther in the head. After
examining it, he Was of the opinion that it
could have lived but a very few minutes lon
ger. Nearly every bone ia its body was bro
ke, and its flesh was almost reduced to a pulp
the blows and hugs of the bear.
DanUd Turner died in this county, in bis
fcOth year, and was buried at Mount Pleasant.
He was very poor during the latter part of his
life, his main means of snbsistence being a
pension which ho received from the Govern
ment. His sons have followed hini to the
grave, and but one of his grandsons still lin
gers around the spot where this pioneer spent
the latter years of his life.
In 1803 or 4, Samuel Ewing settled a mile
and a half below the mouth of Muddy Run, at
a place knoTn as Living's Bottom, but did rot
succeed in making a farm. In the same year,
or the one following, Mr. William Brannian
located on the south side of the Creek, at the
Ox-bow, and shortly after, Major Evans built
a bouse and made an improvement two miles
above Turner's, but did not bring his family
to it. However, Hugh Gallaher moved into
the house, and made a farm there. In 1806,
James Gallaher came from Woodcock Val
!ej', Huntingdon county, and opened ont a
farm on the bank of the Creek, about 2 miles
above Glen Hope. About the same period,
nugh Carson commenced an improvement a
bove and near the property called "Beccaria
Mills." In 1809, William Alexander, the an
cestor of a large and worthy family, settled
where he now "lives, below the mouth of Mnd
dy Kun. He emigrated from Mifflin county,
lie is the oldest of the early settlers of that
section now living. His appearance dtnotcs
not "the weight of years which is upon him."
His activity and buoyancy of spirit are re
markable for one whose toil and endurance
have been so great. Being very domestic in
his habits, he is rarely seen from home ; yet,
be the weather fair or foul, one would as soon
expect that the sun would forget to rise on the
second Tuesday of October, as to hear that on
that day William Alexander had neglected to
vote fcr all the nominees of the Democratic
party. v '
The next year, quite an addition was made
to the population of this region, by the acces
sion of tho families of Smiley, Dillon, Goon,
and Feltwcll, whose improvements formed the
nucleus of one of the most beautiful and best
settled portions of the county, not inappro
priately called "Mount Pleasant," which is
situated south of, and about three miles from
the Creek.
Other reasons than a mcro desire to better
one's condition, tended to swell the numbers
in the Creek settlement. The Ilegarty fami
ly, having been connected with the unfortu
nate struggles in Ireland, sought an asylum in
our wilda. Prior to Robert's departure to this
country, he was connected with the United
Men, and on one occasion he and a few of his
comrades, closely pursued, hid in the moss ;
their pursuers, vastly superior in number,
touched their pikes as they passed them in the
darR. Samuel had, during the troubles, fallen
into the hands of the oppressors, but was res
cued by his compatriots. The brothers first
settled In Mifflin county. In 1S10, they com
menced clearings, opposite each other, on the
Clearfield creek, at the mouth of Muddy Run.
Three years afterwards they brought out their
families.' Mrs. Isabella McCully, then a wid
ow, a sister of the Hegarty's, who died in Fel
fuary last, at the age of 86 years, surrounded
by over 100 descendants, settled near her
brothers, in the year 181G. She left a portion
of her family in Ireland when she emigrated,
and directed her agent to dispose of her prop
erty and use a part cf it in defraying the ex
penses of the remainder of her family in com
ing hither. Her agent decamped with the pro
ceeds of the sale, and sho with some difliculty
obtained the means to gather her children all
under the same roof. From these settlers
have descended some of the best citizens of
Beccaria and Woodward townships.
The war of 1812 induced quite a number of
persons to leave New Jersey and other East
ern parts, and make this neighborhood their
permanent home. Among the families that
came In from 1812 to 1815, the most promi
nent was Wm. B. Wright's. Mr. Wright, at
an advanced age, lives at his first home near
Glen Hope. lie is tho father of Hon. A. K.
Wright, "one of our principal lumber mer
chants, formerly Sheriff of this county, and
late an Associate Judge of Benj. B. Wright,
a man of probity and worth of John W., who
served one term as County Treasurer and is
now officiating as Jnstice of tho Peace and
of several other children. During this period,
Dr. Kcagy, a relative Mr. Wright's, settled a-
bout a mile lower down the Creek ; and Amasa
Smith, a man of some note, but particulars of
whose life we have been unable to glean, com
menced clearing tho farm now occupied by
Israel Cooper. Smith soon after bought the
property known as '-Smith's Mills," now own
ed by our worthy townsman, Jonathan Boyn
ton, near which has since sprung up the vil
lage of Janesville.
(TO BE COXTISCED.)
Snnnnsp a man is standing at his window
looking out upon his garden, full of flowers
and fruit, and as nc loons ne sees a raggea
inr hn look as if he had been born on a
rock and fed upon stones, for all the growth
and vitality there is m mm, sianaing anu iook
in thmiifh the nalincrs : and the poor child,
who never in his life, perhaps, has seen so
much that is so beautiful and enticing, reach
es bis hand through to pluck the bloody cur
nnit nr stands on tintoe to reach the cherries
that hang in too tempting nearness for his
honesty. And the man is iuu oi seinsnuesa,
and he suffers as he sees the boy reach out to
ini-a nronertv : it ia a real pain to him.
Now there are two ways for him to get rid of
that pain. One is, to call lor nis servant, aim
hi. Anrr and rirtVR h OV a WAV. But SUPPOSO,
as he stood there, some good angel, touching
should chance that hell of selfishness
within him into benevoler.co. Then, to his.
surprise, the boy's pushing his hand through,
the paling, instead oi being grievous, is ajvy
to him, and he calls out to hira, "Put your
hand in again, my boy," anu ne senus ins s,er
the crate and call him in to shake
down the fruit from the tree, and to fill his
hands and his pocket, to give him enough for
himself, and to carry away to his starving
companions.. T Jtercntr.
BREAD UPON THE WATERS,
OR, KINDNESS REWARDED.
The night was cold, and dark, and gusty ;
storm-clouds were gathering thickly overhead,
and the ground beneath was icy, affording in
secure footing for the weary traveller, trudg
ing patiently and slowly, as he had done since
early dawn. He was not young, and appeared
feeble, and stopped occasionally, pressing his
hand to his side as if in pain ; but maugre pain,
weakness, and cold, he still toiled on as one
desirous of reaching home. - Home Had he
a home 1 Two hours had certainly elapsed
since night had thrown her vail upon the earth,
when overcome by the bitter, biting wind, he
sunk at last into a huge snow-drift by tho way
side, and in feeble accents prayed aloud to God
in his anguish for her whose whole earthly stay
he was. ; And "He who heareth the poor when
they cry unto Him" answered this prayer of
the desolate. A fanner's boy came whistling
merrily along, and liie the Good Samaritan,
stopped at tho sight ot suffering humanity.
"Why do you he here, sir? Tho night is
so cold that one must move to keep from freez
ing. Come, I will help you up." -
"It is useless ; I am too tired too faint to
go further."
"A few rods further is my home. I can
help you walk so far, and there you can get
rested and warmed."
"Haverhill if I could have reached there ;
but 1 have no more strength," and again
his anguish burst forth : "My wife ! O tiod !
my poor, poor wife !"
The boy threw a strong arm around the man,
and raised him to his feet, but his limbs obey
ed no longer his will, and ho sank again upon
the ground. I: or a moment stood our Good
Samaritan, as in thought; then, stripping off
his overcoat, and wrapping it around the fal
len one, with a hope t til, "I II bo back soon ;
don't move," he hurried awav swiftly toward
home, and as he paused upon the threshold to
shake off the snow from his feet, he thanked
God that he was not a wanderer.
The New Eugland kitchen, with its pewter-
filled dresscr,reflccting and multiplying the ge
nial blaze 6f the log-heaped lire-place, its high-
backed, tush-bottomed chairs grating as they
were moved over the neatly-sanded floor ; its
massive beam running midway of the celling,
across .the room, and its many doors, leading
to all sorts of rooms and stairways, is a picture
familiar to many. Tho farmer, too, stout and
tall, with cheeks blushed by the sun, and huge
hands, browned and hardened by honest toil,
with heart as stout and huge, but not hard ex
cept in outward seeming, Such a kitchen
stepped our youth Into, and such a man sat in
the warmest corner of just such afire-place,
and, looking at the new comer's glowing
cheeks, said, pleasantly, -
"The wind gives you good color, boy."
"Yes, father," rubbing his cheek, "they do
burn some father"
"Well."
"I heard you tell Jones, to-day, that you
could trust me with all yon had ; will you
trust me with old Moll to-night ?"
"So you have ears, sir. Well, what want
you with Moll ?"
"To go to Haverhill."
"It's a freezing night, boy."
"I know that, sir, but will you not trust
me ?"
After a long pause, " Yes, Moses ; you shall
have old Moll to go to Haverhill," said the
father; "but, remember, to-morrow's work
must be done."
'If you've any fault to find to-morrow night,
don't trust me again," and the boy, turning to
the cupboard beneath the dressers, buttered a
generous slice of bread, then left tho room
with a small pitcher, and relumed with it
brimming full of cider, his father closely no
ting all as he smoked away at his pipe, the
New England farmer's inseperable companion.
Moses next went out,' and harnessed, then re
turned to the kitchen for tho bread and ci'ler.
'Why not eat it here, Moses ?" queried his
father.
"Oh ! I'm not hungry ; I have had some
supper, you know; good night, father," and
he hurried away.
"Good night, my boy W here's your coat V
he called out ; but Moses was too far off" for
any other reply to reach tho querist's cars
than, "All right !"
Moses found the wearied where he had left
him, and, springing from the sleigh, he said,
"Hullo, sir ! you said you were faint here's
some of our cider, and if you can sit up and
drink it, and eat this bread, you'll teel better;
and here's old Moll, ready to take you to Hav
erhill. There, don't talk, but eat. It's aw
ful cold, and it's a long way to Haverhill, and
stand still, Moll!"
So ho went on, bobbing now here and now
there, and talking as fast as he could, so as not
to hear the poor man's outpourings of grati
tude, as he ate, and drank, and was refreshed.
With some difficulty the stranger was seated
in the sleigh, and supported by his compan
ion's strong arm. The pair rode in almost to
tal silence, through the increasing darkness, to
their journey's end, and then brief were the
spoken thanks, as if the heart were too full for
utterance. The hour of midnight was past
when Moses reached his home, and laid him
down to rest; but his sleep was sweet and
sound too sound for dreams.
Years flew by, and Mo3es had followed his
father's corpse to the burial ground, and left
his country home to toil for lortunc. And
slowly, but surely, did ho win favors of the
fickle goddess. To him, as to all, came dark
days, and creditors clamored ; but light came
at the darkest hour ; his creditors were silenc
ed, ho knew not why. He fell ill, and when,
fever-wasted and strengthless, he rose from his
bed, there came to him, from, he knew not
where, a Hamper 01 tne cnoicesi liquors. ie
married, and on his wedding-day, Mrs. Moses
received an envelope, containing only a fifty
dollar bunk note trom, he knew not whom.
He, who had befriended the unknown friend
less, had, in his need, raised up to him un
known friends.
One little helpless innocent God gave him,
and after its birth the world trrew fairer, the
sun shone brighter, and life became sweeter to
onr Moses. And cheerily, one bright, frosty
morning, he kissed his two loved ones a fare
well! Cor the day, as business canon mm
n dUf.nit. In these days of iron and
isfiaam a short hour will whirl us long miles
from, home, without the tedium of watching
mile-posts and guide-boards. So Moses (ought
we not sav Jlr- Moses", now that he has not on
ly reached man's estate, but possesses a wife,
and owns a baby 1 I think so.) Mr. Moses
soon reached his place of destination, and,
hn nroceeded on his way, he entered a ho
tel near the depot, for the double purpose of
making inquiries and of warming himself. !
Ah old gentleman passed him on tho steps,
and scanned him eagerly, then tamed and fol
lowed him in.
"Sir, I address Mr. Moses , I believe ; do
you remember me ?" said the stranger.
"I do not, sir ; my name t Moses ."
"I presume not," continued the old gentle
man ; "some years have passed since We met,
twenty, at least, and we wero both that much
younger," and he passed his hand through his
long white hair; "my name is Piice will
you dine with me 1" , .
"Really, sir, my business is pressing"-
"So is my invitation. I cannot be refused.
Name the hour if you will : but dine with mo
to-day you must;" and the peremptory words
were spoken so kindly, and the stranger's
grasp was so friendly that a refusal was impos
sible. The hour was named, and, promising
to meet there, each went his way.
Much did our friend wonder, as, after his bu
siness completed, he retraced his steps to the
hotel, and there found the gray-haired stran
ger waiting in a sleigh, to which were attach
ed two magnificent bays. A five cr six min
utes' ride over the crispy snow, and they drew
up before a stately mansion. Mr. Pricj aligh
ted, and throwing the reins to a servant, mo
tioned his companion to follow, and as he
stood pn the threshold of the open door, he
grasped the younger's hand saying,
"Welcome, sir, right welcome to my home.
Enter; my wife awaits your coming."
Throwing hastily aside, in the hall, over
coats and hats, they entered a pleas3nt room,
lighted by a bay window, perfumed by plants
in flower, and occupied by an old lady, who
rose at their entrance, and, advancing, said,
"I knew of your coming, and you are wel
come, Moses , right welcome, to the home
your kindness restored to me. For twenty
yoars have I daily prayed the good God to
bless you for that one good deed, and He will
bless 3-011."
"Madam, Mr. Price, are you not mistaken
in me ? Your kindness 1 have never merited.
Yon are strangers to me, and"-
"Enough, young man," interrupted Mr.
Price, as a bell was distinctly heard ; "enough
that we are satisfied with your identity. That
is our dinner bell. Over the dessert 1 will
tell you a story, and you shall ceaso to won
der;" and offering his arm to Mrs. Price, Mr.
Moses followed his host to the dining room,
which, as did all else around, spoke much of
the opulence of the possessor.
The dinner, of some importance to a hungry
man some miles from home, was excellent,
and our friend did it justice, though somewhat
Impatient for tho story, which came, as prom
ised, with the dessert.
"You may smile,' said tho white-haired
host, at hearing of love from withered lips,
and yet it is a love story, I have to tell. My
father and my wile's were friends in youth,
bitter enemies in manhood, why, it matters
not now and here. We were their only chil
dren, and, in spite of commands and prohibi
tion, we were play-mates as. children, friends
at school, and lovers in after years. We lov
ed truly, and yet Mary would not marry me
while her father lived. She was his all, sho
she said, and he was old, and she could not
leave him. Years sped on. Sped ? They
dragged wearily and heavily, heavily dragged,
for her and for me; but release came at last
her father died."
The old lady wiped away a tear, as she
murmured,' "Dear father! he was very kind
in all else !"
"May he rest in peace," replied her hus
band "he lived in this house," he continued,
"and was deemed wealthy ; yet he left his or
phan penniless, bu.t free to become my bride,
and we were married. I lived with my father,
also, and there I took my wife, but we met on
ly reproaches, scorn, and curses. Not one
hour did we lcmain beneath his roof, but went
forth together, strong in our faith in each oth
er's love, and prizing nothing else. But love
is neither meat, drink, nor clothes, and tho
children of wealth can illy endure what the
children of poverty call comforts. I tried to
labor; I did labor, and yet we suffered much.
Wo knew naught of economy but the name,
and my earnings were scanty. Experience is
a hard master, you know. Those were sad
days as well as dark. God gave us children
to brighten the darkness, aud, Mary, dear wife,
'twas God that gathered them in his amis."
And now tears stood in those eyes, undim
med by years, and the old lady softly sobbed.
The listener was not unmoved.
"Necessity obliged me to accept an offer or
a situation in a distant city, and extreme pov
erty deprived mc of the society of her who
had made povert' endurable. I left her in
Haverhill with a kind old aunt of mine, and
went forth alone and dispirited to earn a main
tenance for us two. I asked no more of lor
tune, but this little seemed denied mc. Scarce
ly had three months elapsed before sickness
prostrated me ; and when I was at length con
valescent how wretched wa3 my position ! my
situation gone, my little earnings gone, my
strength gone, and almost gone my faith in
Him who ,doeth all things well." With three
dollars in my pocket, and those borrowed, I
returned to my wife. I rode as far as my
means allowed, and then I thought to walk the
remaining twenty miles, after a night's rest
and sleep. But I over-ratedjmy strength ; at
nightfall, with scarcely half the distance ac
complished, I sank exhausted in the snow. It
was a cold, frosty night ; tho bitter, biting
wind seemed to reach my very vitals, (for my
purse afforded mo no overcoat,) and I prayed
to God for my wife ; and for myself, despair
ed. A boy of some fifteen yeafs"
"I know you now, sir; I remember tho
night," said Moses. "I slept enough the
sweeter that night to fully repay me. Please
say no more of that, but, if you will, continue
your story ; I am much interested."
"Pot .took me to ray wife. There awaited
me a letter from my father, ne was on his
death-bed, and desired to see me. I reached
my childhood's home in time to receive my
father's pardon and dying blessing ; and his
last act was, to call for coals, and therein to
burn the will which disinherited his only son.
Sweet as it was to receive my father's pardon,
sweeter yet was it to give my wife, not only
the luxuries of her former life, but also restore
to her the home of her fathers. But for you,
had I even survived that fearful night, I had
been to late for either."
The old lady arose, and laying her tremb
ling hands on the head of Moses, said, "May
the blessing of the aged prevail mightily with
God for you, as the bread you cast upon tho
waters has nourisad us."
Love covers many faults.
STACKPOLES ADVENTURE.
"You never heard tell of my molasses can
dy adventure, did you. Squire 7" said fcara
Stackpole to me, when i called aims uuuou
to take the census of his family. I shook my
head and he nroceeded. "I speculate it rather
a wonderful affair.and if Sally here would tell
it, you would expeciate, certain; L was cour
tin' Sally at the time, and was in love up to
my eyes. But her daddy was opposed to mo
out and out. And he was a stupendious man,
the crossest, ugliest old vainient that ever
wore spectacles ; and I often wondered how
Sally could be such a charming little Creature,
with suoh a crusty old fellow for a father.
She was a magnum bonam ' gal, sure at that
time, a littlo faded now you see, but that's to
be expected. Beauty is only skin deep, but
Ugliness goes to the bone."
"Well one day I went to"town and bought a
whole heap of fancy doings, ribbons, heads,
goose grease for the hair, etcctra, and so forth.
I was determined to coax her up, and putting
my purchases snugly in a bundle 1 locOmoted
towards her daddy's house, true as a rifle.
"It was rather late when 1 arrived, and old
Scrags was bilin' sum molasses candy for Sally
to peddle the next day there bein a show in
town Sally and her mammy havin' retired.
"The first thing I done, however, arter en
tering, and old Scrags had stared at me a few,
was to sit right down in a pan of hot merlasses,
he'd put on a cheer to cool, which made me
jump up and howl amasin! Gingerbread,
how in burnt ! but as he dulnt see the accident,
I squatted on Sally's band box which contain
ed her Sunday bonuett not noticin' and ,
went to rubbing like sixty-six! Well, arter
I'd sot there a spell, groaned for myself and
wondering how much damage I'd done, the
old man gave me another terrific look and
said
"Sara Stackpole, what have you come here
arter say ?
"Mr. Scraggs," ses I, not darin' to stir fcf
fear he'd discover my perdickerment. "I've
come here on very important business (Oh,
Lordy ! how that merlasses smarted !) and if
you'll keep your ebenezer down about five
minutes, I'll endeavor to inform you with that
degree of accurancy that I'm so perminently
and conspiciously developed.'
The old fellow didn't understand that ar
powerful language, and in course he did't say
nothin', an so I kept as easy as I possibly
conld and went on."
"Perhaps, ses I, you've noticed that I have
been pain' numerous attenshuns to your daugh
ter, and I am gratified to stait with infinate
popularity. Now if you'll give Sally to me,
I'll vote for you for Governor, and leave the
county if you ainrt elected.
"Well, after I'd delivered . myself in that
ar benevolent style, what do yon think the
old codger's reply was? Why instead of
saying to me to take Sally, and welcome, he
pinted to the door, and told me to scalier!"
"I vow I got out of patience then, sure,
and didn't care then what occured if Sally's
bonnet was smashed.
"Mr. Scraggs, ses I, I should be very hap
py to oblidgeyou, but the fact isj I sot down
here and can't leave nohow, unless you cut a
hole in my trowsers.
"When tho old man seed how I was stuck
fast as I set, he just catched up the pot of hot
candy off the fire and emptied it all over my
head and shoulders, true as I'm alive ! Jehu!
how the stuff made me cavort and holler !
But I was so mad that I grabbed a great gob
and let him have it biffrite 'tween the eyes.
"There, take that, sez 1, you old flap-eared
piece of deformity ! and then started for the
door dercct I jest got it open, ready to" dart,
when old Mrs. S. burst into a loud laugh, and
Sally spoke for the fust time."
"Sani Stackpole, scz she, hold. My band
box and j-onr pantaloons are annexed."
"Jerusalem ! sez I, and I leaped. I must
a been skeercd, for I landed at least twenty
feet outside the house and ran like a prairie
fire. I never looked behind me till next morn
in,' and when I did, Ike hirer of the bandbox
was sticking fasl to my trotcscrs."
"That was my merlasses candy adventnre.
Squire, right hot work it was. But I married
Sally at last. The old man give in after a
while, and now you can rccken up the family
in j-our sinsus as you please."
ii i 4 l
Religious CocRTsnip. A young gentleman
happening to sit at church in a pew adjoining
one in which sat a young lady for whom he
conceived a violent passion, was desirous of
entering into a courtship on the spot ; but the
place not suiting a formal declaration, the ex
igency of the case suggested tho following
plan. He politely handed his fair neighbor a
bible open, with a pin stuck in the following
text Second Epistle of John, verse fifth :
"And now I beseech thee, lady, not as though
I wrote a new commandment unto thee, but
that which we had from the beginning, that
we love one another." She returned it, point
ing to the second chapter of Ruth, verse
tenth : "Then she fell on her face, and bow
ed herself to the ground, and said unto him,
why have I found grace in thine eyes ; that
thou shouldst take know ledge of me seeing
that I am a stranger ?" He returned the book,
pointing to the twelfth verso of the second
Epistle of John. "Having many things to
write unto yon, 1 would not write with paper
and ink, but I trust to come unto you, and
speak face to face that our joy may be full."
From the above interview a marriage took
place tho ensuing week.
A Good One. In St. Joseph, a few days
since, a train of six hand carts, with the emi
grants harnessed in, had just started for the
ferry, and attracted considerable attention,
when a fellow of most solemn visage shouted
out to them at the distance of half a square :
"Hollo! hold on there." Tho gold seekers
stopped while he came up and asked, "Are
j-ou going to Pike's Peak 1" "Yes," was the
rather crusty response. "Well, why don't
j-on wait for the grass T" continued the inter
rogator. "Grass," ejaculated one of the em
igrants impatiently. "What do we want of
grass 1 We havn't any cattle." "Very true
but you are making asses of yourselves and
ought to look out for provender!" Amidst
the roar of laughter which came up from the
crowd the "Pikes reakcrs" made a general
rush for their persecutor ; and nothing but a
nimble uso of his legs saved the wag f rom a
sound drubbing.
"You think you are a great man," said an
impertinent fellow to a gentleman whom he
had offended. "Yes, I am a real thumper
replied the gentleman, suiting. the action to
the word. . . ..
WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE.
A correspondent of the Springfield Jiepabli
tan gives the following pen-and ink sketches
Of prominent literary people : . , .
Emerson looks like a refined farmer", medi
tative and quiet. Longfellow like a good-rii-tared
beet-eater. Holmes like a ready-fo-laugh
littlo body,wishing only to be "as funny
as he can." Everett only seems the graceful
gentleman, who has been handsome. Bcecher
a ruddy, rolicking boy. Whittier the most
retiring of Quakers. And thus 1 might name,
others. Not one of these gentlemen can b3
called handsome, 'unless we except Bcecher,
w ho might be a deal handsomer. Mrs. Sigour
ney, the grandmother of American "female"
literature, in her prime (if we may believe her
portrait) was quite handsome. Katherine
Beecher is homely. Mrs. Bcecher Stowe so
ordinary in looks that she has been taken for
Mrs. Stowe's "Biddy." Mrs. E. F. Ellet looks
like a washerwoman. Margaret Fuller was
plain. Charlotte Cushman has a face as 'mark
ed as Daniel Webster's, and quite as, strong.
So has Elizabeth Blackwell. Harriet Ilosmer
looks like a man. Mrs. Oakes Smith is con
siderable handsome. Mrs. Julia Ward Howe
has been a New York belle. Frances S. Os
good had a lovely, womanly -face. Amelia F.
Welby was almost beantiful. Sarah J. Hale,
in her younger days,quite,td unless her pictufo
fibs. The Davidson sisters, as well; as" their
eifted mother, possessed beaut v; If we cross
tho ocean we find Madame deStael was a
flight; but Hannah More waS handsome;
Elizabeth Fry, glorious ; , Letitfa Langdon
pretty ; Mrs. nemans wondrousljr lovely ;
Mary Howitt fair and matronly ; Mrs., Norton
regally beautiful; Elizabeth Barrett Browning
in physique is angular, and though she has
magnificent eyes, her face is suggistive of a
tombstone. Charlotte Bronte bad a look in
her eyes better than all beauty of features.
But if we look at British men of first-class
craniums Shakespeare and Milton were hand
some ; Dr. Johnson was a monster of ugliness;
so were Goldsmith and . Pope ; Addison was
tolerably handsome ; and Coleridge, She!!ey
Byron, MoorCj Campbell, Burns, all were un
commonly so. Sir Walter Scott looked very
ordinary, in spite of his fine head. Macaulay
is homely. Bulwer nearly hideous, although
a dandy. Charles Dickens is called handsorric'j
but covered with jewelry he can but look like'
a simpleton.
The Boxes About the Premises. Now is
the time to gather them tip lrora the fence
corners and otber places.where they are neitli
cr ornamental nor health giving. Put tberd
into the soil, if you have not Already. .The'
best course is to take them to' a bone mill and
get them ground, if there is1 a bone mill near
you. But probably there is not, as there is
not yet one bone mill to where there should be
a dozen. If ground finely and mixed'several
times w ith their weight of muck or IoSih,and
worked into the soil, ia and around cdrh hills,
at planting time, no manure is better. It
will not produce the tallest growth, but will
givo the largest and best filled ears of any
thing we have ever tried
But if there is no bone mill near you,- as is
the fact we have no doubt with nine-tenths of
our readers, break the bones, as best you canj
and apply them to the soil. They are good
for every kind of crop. Their effect, if only
broken, will be the same in the end, but will
be slower than if ground finely, and for some
purposes will do all the better for this, as in
tho case of fruit trees, to all of which bones
should be applied at the time Of transplafltfngj
and may better be coarse' than fine, for tho
reason that here a lasting rather than an im
mediate effect is sought.
Too Good to be Lost. A friend of ours re
lates the following story, which is a good! Oner
A traveller whom we afterwards knew, once
arrived at a village inn,aftcr a hard day's trav
el, and bsing very tired requested a room to'
sleep in, but the landlord said they were en
tirely full, and it was utterly impossible to ac
commodate him that his wife had to sleep on
the sofa, and himself on the floor; but that
he would see what his wife would do for him. .
The good woman on being applied to, sail
there was one room which he might ocennv.
provided he would agree to the conditions,
viz: to enter the ioom late, in the dark, and '
leave it early in the morning, to prevent scan- '
dal, as the room was occupied by a ladyV
This he agreed to. About two o'clock , hat'
night, an awful noise was heard in the hcise,
.1 - : 1 11 a ,? r J ' : - i
auu vui iiicuu, ma Havener, was luunu illlEO
ling heels over head down stairs. On onir "
landlord arriving at the spot, and inquiring'
what the matter was, the traveller ejaculated
as soon as he was able to sneak : "Oh.- land--
lonl ! lanillnnl ! thn wnman'a Hnari r V
know that," said the landhr, "but how did 1
you find it out ?"
Fifty. Kansas Democrat Indicted TLa
Leavenworth jail is filled, Ey one cCeux ei-
changes, to overflowing with "ooi, tried acd
staunch and valiant "Democrats."
been arrested and indicted for (rand u lent vo
ting at the recent election. More than fifty
of the b'ys are in the Jug for obeying th
nartv ihinnr.tions. viz Vrin niritr .nil
I J -' tt . j w W " -MllJ .!'.
often," and '-keeping on voting until the polla
were closed." The legal investigation now
going on is disclosing an old fashioned Kick- .
apoo or Oxford swindle. These fifty elegant
Democrats are but a preface of w hat is to
come ! The Republicans are confident that the
apparent Democratic majority will ta ciore
lion ennnffA1 nnt ara (ha f PIIITS CrtTTimiffofl In
Leavenworth are probed to tho bottom.
A preacher in the conr'se of a sermon, was
comparing tho state of the unconverted sin
ner to that of a man' in a boat away from land
with only one' o&r. He was suddenly brought
up by an old sailer, who jumped up and
asked, "Could'nt the fool scull ?"
That Spiritual fge predicts that as people
become more spiritual and seek to live true
lives, sincla beds will com o into voftiA. .'rm!
r-if the apostles of progress can be kept out
of other folk's beds, it is all that can be rea
sonably expected. -
In Vermont the factions of the Democracy
are engaged in a fierce contest. The Admin
istration party aro facetiously: dubbed "cow,
uoj s, ana me uouglasites rejotca in lb
The basis of all excellence is truth !. Trnth
is intellectual gold,' which is as durable as it is
splendid aod.Tdlu3bIo. ' - ' .. -