11 (l
BY S. X BOW.
CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1867.
VOL. 14.-N0. 9.
JOWwtgMtrg.
MY H OTHER'S .TOIOE.
There's m nsio la the autumn wind,
Around the dripping eaves,
And where its pinions stop to play
Among the fallen leaves.
There's music in the river's flow
Along tie pebbly shore, .
When all the winds have gone to sleep,
And bough have swayed no more.
There's musio In fne cricket's song,
I hear through evening shade, .
And in the low of distant herds
Returning from the glade.
There's musio in the household tones
That greet the sad or gay,
And in the laugh of innocence '..
Rtjoioing in its play.
But there's'musio sweeter far
Is memory than this'
The musio of my mother's voice,
How in the land of bliss.
A musio time may never still,
1 hear it in my dreams,
When all the fondness of her face
Once more upon me beams.
I know not whaC the angels hear
In mansion in the skies,
But there is not a sonnd on earth
LUe mother's gentle voioe.
The tears are in my clouded eye,
And sadness in my brain.
As nature whispers in my heart,
She will not oome again.
A mother! oh, when she departs
tier liae is never Known ;
The records of affection speaK
Of only, only one ! .
And brighter will the record grow
Through all the changing years,
The oftner to the lips is pressed
The cap of sorrow's tear.
SIX LOVE LETTERS.
"Are there any more of these letters "
W hen her father asked this-question, in
an awful tone, Luoilla Richmond could not
say and dared not say "Yes," but as
o intermediate course burst into tears, and
fibbed hehiuchher handkerchief.
"Bring them to me, Lucilla," said her
lather, as if she had answered him, as, in
Jet! she had ; and the girl, trembling and
weeping aroue to obey him.
Then Mrs. Richmond, her daughter's very
3u!i grown older, came behind her hus
land'achair, and patted him on the shoulder.
"Please don't be so hard with her, ray
Jear,"" she said,coaxingIyv "He's a nice
O'oung man, and it is our fault after all as
much as hers, and you won't break her
young heart, I'm Bure."
"perhaps you appreve of the whole affair,
tua'am," said Mr. Richmond.
"I no that is I only"-r-gasped the lit
tle woman ; and, hearing Luoilla coming,
he sank into a chair, blaming herself dread
fully for not having been present at all her
laughter's music lessons during the past
veir.
For all this disturbance arose from a ran
mc teacher who had giveu lessons to Miss
I.ccilla for twelve months, and who tad ta
ken the liberty of falling in love with her,
knowing well that she was the daughter of
uie of trie richest men in Yorkshire.
"It was inexcusable in a poor music teach
er, who should have known his place," Mr
Kichtnond declared, and he clutched the lit
tle perfumed billet which had fallen into
his hands as he might a scorpion, and wait
ed for the other with a look upon bis face
which toid of no softening. They came "at
ia!t, bix little white envelopes, tied together
ith blue ribbon, and were laid at his elbow
V his despairing daughter.
"Lock these up until I return home this
evening," ho said to his wife ; "I will read
iliem then. Meanwhile Lucilla is not to see
music master on any pretence." . j
Add then Miss Lucilla went down upon
ir knees:
'Oh dear papa!" she cried, "dearest
Ppa please don't say I must never see him
attain- I couldn't bear it. Indeed I could
not. He's poor I know, but he is a gentle
man, and I I like him o much, papa."
"No more of this absurdity, my dear,"
stid Mr. Richmond. "He has been artful
tnough to make you think him perfection,
I suppose. Your parents know what is
Jt for yoHr happiness. A music teacher
is not a match for Miss Richmond." '
With which remark Mr. Richmond put
n his hat and overcoat, and departed.
Then Luoilla and her mother took the op
portunity of falling into each other's arms.
"It's naughty for you," said Mrs. Rich
mond. "But oh, dear, I can't blame you.
u was exactly so with me. I ran away with
your papa, you know, and my parents ob
jected because of his poverty. I feel the
Potest sympathy for you, and ' Frederick
has such fine eyes, and is so pleasing. . I
i6a I could soften your papa.'-' '
"When he has seen the letters there'll be
. hope I'm very much afraid," sobbed
"is Lneilla. "Fred is so romantic, and
rpa hates romance."
" He used to be very romantic himself in
Jbose old times," Baid Mrs. Richmond.
.'Such letters as he wrote me. I have them
1! my desk yet. He said he should die if
infused him.".
So does Fred, "said Lucilla.
' And that life would be worthless with
out me; and about my being; beautiful (he
"ought so, you know.) I'm sure b$ ought
sympathize a little, said Mrs. Rich
mond. .
fiat she dare not promise that he would.
rhe coaxed her darling to stop crying,
"a made her lie down ; then went up into
own room to put the letters into her
tjt; and, as she placed them in one ti
fn hole she saw in another a bundle
"edexactly as those were, and drew them "out
, Uese letters were to a Lucilla, aU50. .0n
Jo had received them twenty years before
rnd she was now a matron old enough to
4Ie daughter who had heart troubles-1-:oIdedthem
one by one, wondering how it
n i to pass that lover's letters were all so
ttQe& alike. : . . .
Half a dozen just the same number, and
much'more romantic than those the music
master had written to her daughter Lucilla.
A strange idea came into Mrs.. Richmond's
mind, che dared not oppose her husband1;
by a look or a word she had never attempt
ed such a thing.
But she was very fond of her daughter,
When she had left the desk she looked guil
ty aud frightened, and something in her
pockets rustled as the moved. But she
said nothing to any one on the subject until
the dinner hour arrived, and with it came
her husband, angrier and more determined
than ever. Ihe meal was passed in silence ;
then, having adjourned to the parlor, Mr.
Richmond seated himself in a great arm
chair, and demanded :
"The letters," in a voice of thunder.
Mrs. Richmond put her hand in her
pocket and pulled it out again with a fright
ened look.
Mr. Richmond again repeated, still more
sterol?: -..
"Those absurd letters, if you please, my
dear ma am.
And then the little woman faltered :
"I that is I believe yes, dear I be
lieve I have thorn,'' and gave him a white
pile of envelopes, circled with blue ribbon,
with a hand that trembled like an aspen
leaf.
As far Lucilla, she began to weep as
though the end of all thioes had come at
last, and felt sure that if papa should prove
cruel she should die.
"Six letters six shameful peices of de
ception, Lucilla, said the indignant parent
"I am shocked that a child of mine could
Sractice such duplicity. Hem! let me see.
umber one I believe. June, and this is
December. Half a year you have deceived
us then, Lucilla. Let me see ah 1 'From
the first moment he adored you,' eh? Non
sense. People don't tall in love in that ab
surd manner. It takes years of acquaintance
and respect and attachment. N Un your
Biuiles for his goal, he would win both tame
and fortune, poor as he is !" Fiddlesticks.
Lucilla ! A man who has common sense
would always wait until he had a fair com
mencement, before he proposed to any girl.
"Praise of your beauty. 'The lovliest
creature he ever saw T Exageration, my
dear. You are not plain, but. such flatery
id absurd. 'Must hear from you or die?'
Dear, dear how absurd!"
And Mr. Richmond dropped the first let
ter, and took up another.
"The same stuff," he commented. "I
hope you don't believe a word he says. A
plain, earnest, upright sort of a man would
never go into sweh rhapsodies, I am sure.
Ah ! now. in number three he calls you 'an
angel V He is romantic, upon ray word and
what is all this?
"Those who would forbid me te see you
can find no fault with me bat my poverty.
I am honestI am earnest in my efforts. I
am by birth 'a gentleman, and I love you
from my soul Da not let them sell you for
gold Lucilla."
"Great heavens, what impertinence to
your parents!"
"I don't remember Fred's saying any
thing of that kind," Baid poor Lucilla. "He
never knew you would object"
Mr. Richmond shook his head, frowned
and read on in sileuce until the last sheet
lay under his hand. Then, with an ejacula
tion of rage, he started to his feet
"Infamous!" he cried; "I'll go to him
this instant I'll horse-whip him ! I'll
murder him ! As for you, by Jove, I'll send
you to a convent. Elope, elope, with a mu
sic teacher. I am ashamed to call you my
daughter. Where's my hat?" Give me
my boots. Here, John call a cab? I "
But here Lucilla caught one arm and Mrs.
Richmond the other. .
"Oh, papa, are you crazy ! said Lucilla.
"Frederick never proposed suth a thing.
Let me see the letter. Oh, papa, this is
not Fred's upon my word it is not. Do,
look, papa ; it is dated twenty years back,
and Frederick's name is not Charles! Papa,
these'are your love-letters to mamma, written
long ago. Her name is Lucilla, you know !''
Mr. Richmond sat down in his arm-chair
in silence, very red in the face.
"How did this occur?" he said sternly;
and little Mrs. Richmond, retreating into a
corner, with her handkerchief to her eyes,
sobbed '
"I did it on purpose!" and paused, as
though she expected a sudden judgment
But, heating nothing, she. dared at last to
rise and creep up to her husband timidly.
"You know, Charles," she said. "It 8 so
long ago since, and I thought you might
not exactly remember how you fell in love
with me at first sight, how papa and mamma
objected, and at last we ran away together ;
aad it seemed to me that if we could bring
it all back plainly to you as it was then, we
might let dear Lucilla marry the man she
likes, who is good, if he is not rich. I did
BOt need it to be brought back any plainer
myself; women have more time to remem
ber, you know. And we've been very hap
py, have we not?" ,
And certainly Mr. Richmond could not
deny that. So Lucilla, feeling that her in
terests might safely be left in her mother's
keeping, slipped oat of the room, and beard
the result of the little ruse next morning.
It was favorable to the young music teach
er, who had really only been sentimental,
and had not gone so far as an elopement ;
and in due course of time, the . two . were
married with all' the pomp and' gran
deur befiUing the nuptials ot a wealthy mer
chant's daughter, with the perfect approba
tion of Lucula's father and o the great ioy
of Lucilla' s mamma, who justly believed that
her little ruse had brought about all her
daughter's happiness.
John Stoles of Chicago, emigrated to
Omaha, and from thence farther .west A
letter containing money from him, found
his wife dead and his little children penni
less, in a ity, with none to care foi them
but charitable citizens.
CLEARFIELD, PA., OCT. 30, 1867.
Written for the "Raftsman's Journal."
The True End of Life.
The record of earth's illustrious is a great
highway, along which the faithful student
ot history is permitted to walk, that he may
learn of a nobler destiny than that revealed
to nim by his own dim vision, it he turn
from this bright view of life to the catalogue
of the grovelling, not even here can he find
one ot his fellows so steeped in vice, as that
amid all the mass ot corruption there will
not gleam forth some ray of light, indicative
of that native dignity of life, whichplaees
man above the brute and renders hun a be
ing worthy the labors of humanity. These
truths, apart from any present reference to
divine revelation, are incontestible evidences
that man was designed tor some noble end.
Gaze where you will, upon his labors, and
whether they be illustrious or obscure, they
are animated by that spirit which urges man
onward and illumines his pathway to im
mortality. Whether the monument be the
embodiment of good or of evil deeds, to the
intelligent mind, its teachings are the same.
Though the waves of dark oblivion have
rolled over its authors, yet God speaks thro
it to the children of men.
It matters not, whether you stand by the
death-bed of him who has sinfully watched
the hour-glass of time, until its wasting
sands have passed away, or revelled amid
the lurings of dissipations throng, until the
darksome shades of death have gathered
around him. or whether you listen to the
ever-sounding echoes of another, whose life
has been one noble struggle to attain the
true goal of his being, as he fades from your
view, the sameereat lesson is taught. With
such proofs of man's being the author of his
destiny, and with such varied and constant
examples, illustrating the result of every
course of action, how important is life, and
how carefully should all its steps be meas
ured. These warnings and inspirations ever
throng life's pathway ; they tell us how of
ten the glowing spark of mau's pride flick
ers to extinction, while eternal darxness
greets him on the threshold of his future
state, or how above such a dread doom oth-,
era have risen who "will shine aa tho stars,'
forever and ever."
Prompted by such teachings, man need
not sink to the dust there to grovel away
his existence, but the hope of manhood may
go out and link itselt to objects that are
above all earthly scenes, and yet whose at
tainment begins on earth. As the verdant
tree sheds its leaves, and thus fertilizes the
soil, from which it gathers the strength of
its life, that it may become more vigorous,
so man, would he become worthy the true
end of his being, must let his life be as a
tree, growing up amid the waste places, of
earth, that it may send forth to the and
soil of vassaled humanity, the elixir of a
character formed by the most heroic labor,
and disciplined by the most ennobling sac
rifices. For when he becomes the medium
through which is transmitted that magic in
fluence that transforms men's thoughts and
aspirations, and assimilates them to higher
purposes and nobler -aims, he will gather
from the scene of his labors an inspiration
that will tit him for still greater conquests.
To live, for the true end of our being, is
to so cultivate the understanding, and direct
the mind, as that we mav be enabled to look
directly through the sophisms of misguided
theorists and their intricate questions ot
nolitv. rirht on to the ereat object of life.
For when a life has its struggle subdivided
anions: the many objects that so often solicit
its homage, it will, at the last, stand up as
some distorted image, bearing no distinct
outline, or as some ancient ruin whose tem
ples and shrines are now commingled with
the dust of centuries. But when all the
native impulses ot manhood are roused and
directed in the path of truth, though rug
ged may be the course, though thick the
drapery of error may overhang it, and dim
may be the waymarks, yet the hope-inspirea
soul will press on. New lights will illumine
its line of march. The royless gloom of op
pression will be dispersed, and with its mar
shalled host of kindred spirits, the deathless
soul ot man will rise to its native Heaven.
The songs of chivalry have been chanted,
and the glory of military renown has had its
reign. Their memory is now fading. They
may live in the future, but it will be only as
beacons to mark the locality of destructive
waves, and engulfing whirlpools.. They
have ceased to herald the notes that enchant
humanity. No more will their shrines be
decorated with the laurels of enlightened
man. Their alluring power is fast being
destroyed by the onward march of truth.
Through the gloom of the past, there may
be seen monuments that will stand forever.
They are the record of lives to whom mili
tary renown or political fame has not been
the aim of their labors, or the end of their
being. Tkey are the memory of men who
have broken through the trammels that
bound them to the idols of earth have
burst the shackles that fettered their sub
lime impulses, and spurning the blandish
ments of their fellows, have given a glorious
example for the emulation of incoming gen
erations. Sothat.even in this limited sphere
of human action, men rise or sink to a level
corresponding to the character of their lives.
How much greater then, will be the distinc
tion between the final sphere of one who
has made some ephemeral fame the object
of his life, and him who has soared beyond
ta MtifinM nf tiniA nrl tVinnirrit no obtect
worthy his highest labor, save the author of
his being, and. the fountain of his Miss. J
Such a life alone is a true one, It alone is .
enshrined in that 6acred lustre, which bright-'
ens the ties between earth ana heaven, and ,
leads the faithful, on to a realization of the j
high destiny for which they were made.
They, who have thus lived, can leave their
memories embalmed in the hearts of their
fellow-men, wear the robes of vestal light,
and receive the crown of the world true
conqueror.
His truest life, his noblest end.
Should be to guard with anxious oare,
Lest man against his God offend,
And reap the darKness of despair.
Bright as the dewdrop on the flower.
Radiant as the sunshines' morning light,
Sacred asehildhood's joyous, blissful hour,
Js the soul that seeks to live aright.
LYCTJROU8.
A Western Wonder. A western cor
respondent, who writes from Topeka, Kan
sas, describes the great salt plains on the
route of a proposed railroad, from that place,
as follows : ' "On a direct line southwest from
Topeka, about 219 miles, you strike the great
wonder of the West, the Salt Plains. These
Elains are 100 miles in length by 40 miles in
readth, and are one of the curiosities of
the age. .Traversing them you will occupy
at least twelve hours ordinary riding over a
level plain completely covered with salt in
the form of a crust, varying from one to
two inches thick, as white as this sheet of
paper before touched with ink, and of suffi
cient strength to bear up, without breaking
or crumbling, an ordinary wagon load. Un
derneath this crust, a little below the surface,
there is a strata of solid rock salt, only ac
cessible by quarrying, producing the finest
specimens of crystalized salt I ever saw. The
supply is perfectly inexhaustible. The
Atohison.Topeka tnd Santa Fa Railroad will
cross these salt fields very nearly through
their centre, and thus give the road every
alternative section in a distance of upwards
of 40 miles. The Indians here get their
supply of salt, and the government has fre
quently sent trains there to get salt supplies.
A railroad over themlxmld supply the world
with an article of salt not surpassed in qual
ity by any the world ever produced, and I
r.eed not say to what extent it would, afford
business for a railroad, for of that any rea
sonable man can judge sufficiently."
A Shrewd Wat of Catching Titieves.
The Paris papers reveal a new style of theft
by .which jewellers are losers. The thief en
ters the shop of a dealer in diamonds and
asks to see some small unset stones. . lie is
well dressed and wears colored spectacles.
The stones are laid before him, spread on
paper. J5eing very near sighted as bis glass
es prove, ne is oougea to Dnng nis eyes so
near to the gems that he can pick them up
with the tip of his tongue, and he keeps
them m his mouth until out of the shop. If
he fears detection, which seldom oecrirs, he
Bwallows his treasure whence the 6lang
name of "Swallow it raw." eriven to this
class by the thieves' fraternity. One of
them was caught the other day. The dia
mond merchaut, put upon his guard, said
he had no small stone6. but would have a
large supply the next day. A policeman
was in waiting ; the diamonds were laid out
upon paper previously impregnated with an
extremely bitter drug, which, when the thief
put his ton true to them, acted so violently
on his sense of taste that he instantly re
jected what he had just taken. The police
man appeared and the thief was taken in
the act.
An Ice Cave. Nearly all the ice used
en the Pacific coast is obtained from a nev
er-failing ice cave in the Northern part of
Uregon. 1 his remarkable subterranean cav
em, where the ice remains in a perfect state
the year round, is situated on a stream known
as the White Salmon, which empties into
the Columbia river, on the W ashmgton ler
ntory side, about thirty miles below the
Dalles. The entrance to this icy chamber is
near the base of Mount Adams, which
stands twenty miles from the Columbia.and
whose melting snow constitute the waters of
the V hite Salmon. 1 he dimcnsians of this
cave are vast, extending many miles under
the snowy mountain, and the scenery inside
is supremely grand. The ice is found in col
umns formed by water falling from above
and congealing as it falls. These columns
are cut out in blocks and conveyed on pack
animals to the Columbia river, and from
thence are shipped to all the markets on the
coast
The British Consul at Fernando Po writes
to Dr. Hooker, of the Royal Society. "It
may interest you to hear that the Cameroons
Mountain is again in a state of active erup
tion. On the night of October 15th the lava
seemed to rush with tremendous force out
of the east side a few hundred feet from the
top, then pour over in a grand cataract of
fire and flow off east-southeast in a crooked
fiery stream down the mountain side. The
molten lava poured out from sunset, when
it was first seen, till after midnight, increas
ing in volume. Clouds' obscured the moun
tain next morning, but it has- been seen
burning thrice since. It is apparently quiet
now. There was no thunder for several
days preceding, but we had a gale of wind
from the east-northeast an unusual direc
tion coming an hour before sunset on the
14th inst a tornado, in faet, without thun
der or rain, except a few drops."
An Old Miracle Repeated. "A. ru
mor was current yesterday," says the JCfalia
of Naples, of September 19, "that St. Jan
uarius would not this year perform his ac
customed miracle, in consequence of the
heretics and excommunicated persons who
are at the present moment forming impious
plots against the Holy Father. The saint
would not, however, inflict such an affront
on his native city for the few hair-brained
men who are now committing Heaven tnows
what sacrilege. This morning, indeed, St
.T,ni.n.: i: . 1, nn ,,anal and At.
iiuiuius rose earner iu ..a-,
half past nine the blessed blood was in a
state of liquifaction in the miraculous viaL
A cannon shot announced to the twelve
quarters of Naples that St Januarius had
performed the miracle promptly, which means
that all the graces of the Lord will be pour
ed down on Naples."
Getting Even.
A few days since, a scene occurred in the
Railroad Hotel, at . which was exceed
ingly ridiculous, and exoited the mirth of
the whole city.
Mr. Reynolds, the showman, had jus
landed with a large collection of wild ani
mals, among which were bears, lions and
monkeys rare birds and huge anacondas.
He went to the hotel, secured a room, and
took his snakes with him in a large trunk.
The first night or two he did very well,
having no one with him in the room. Soon,
however, another person was sent to his
room at a late hour of the night. He, the
new comer, pulled off his clothes, lit a cigar,
placed a candle by his bedside and commen
ced reading his book.
Mr. Reynolds, being much fatigued, re
quested the stranger politely to put out the
candle and allow him to sleep.
The stranger objects, and says that he has
hired half the room and his bed, and has
the right to burn his candle just as long as
he pleases.
Mr. Reynolds turns over and tries to woo
the sleepy god, but all in vain. No sleep
nor slumber would visit his restless couch.
So, in a fit of desperation, he jumps up and
addresses his room mate thus :
"I say, stranger, if you have a rirht to
burn a candle in this room all night, 1 have
a right to bring in my boy."
The imperturbable stranger looked over his
book at him and simply said :
"You can bring in your boyj and your gal
too, if you like," and went on reading.
Mr. Reynolds seized his pantaloons, jerk
ing out of his pocket a key and proceeded to
unlock his huge trunk. He took therefrom
his enormous spotted snake, approached
the bed of the stranger, and paid :
'" Permit me to introduce to you my boy,"
(boa,) at the same time presenting the dis
tended mouth of the monster close to the
affrighted man's face.
The stranger gave one look of awful hor
ror his face became as pale as death his
book fell from his hand, he overturned his
table, candle, and all ; gave one leap from
his bed and in puris naturalibus, he ran
down stairs, out in the street, and yelled for
the police. What became of him afterwards
was never known.
v uue nev. a. rsauara was delivering a
temperance lecture in Grand Haven. Mich..
the other night, and was depicting in his
graphic style the condition of itelirium tre
mens, in the "rum maniac," an old lady be
came so influenced by her imagination,
wrought upon by the orator, that when he
was describing the sensation of the reptiles
crawling up from below, she arose from her
seat, walked up to the table, aud looked over
for the purpose of seeing the tnuikes. This
completely upset the gravity of the meeting.
and it was some time before the speaker
could go on.
Referring to the statement that Mrs. Lin
coln "has consented" to have a subscription
opened tor her benefit the Chicago Repub
lican says' it is "the most shameful ana hu
miliating" phase of the whole business, and
adds : "If this report be correct, it serves
still further to confirm what has long been
the conviction of those most intimate with
her, that she is a confirmed monomaniac.
The papers which gloat over this unfortu
nate mental condition of Mrs. Lincoln are
hopelessly lost to all self-respect and regard
for the good name of this country."
In Missouri, during the war, a loyal stage
driver persisted in driving his route. His
friends, fearing for his life, tried to frighten
him. His horses were near a grave yard.
One man played ghost, when he went, at
midnight, to get them. The ghost stalked
solemnly across his path, all in white, say-
intr. "hnwarp!" "tVhna -Tsmiartr
Jehu, delivering a lusty kick on the side of
the spook, Wotyerdom out here this time
o night I Uit back in yer hole!
Oa election day a fight occurred in Little
Lake Mendocino county, Idaho, between
two families named respectively Coats and
Frost Five of the Coatu' wore killed and
three dangerously wounded. Two of the
Frosts lost their lives. An old feud said to
have existed between the families was pretty
effectually wiped out by this vendetta.
A merchant of Richmond attempted to
cure himself ot chronic rheumatism by an
outward application of wet tobacco. Per
mitting the poultice to remain on too long
the tobacco oozed into his blood and poison
ed him. His life was, for a time, despaired
of, but good treatment soon restored him to
ordinary health.
A conspiracy was discovered in the New
York tombs by which the prisoners expected
to escape by murdering the Warden and his
deputies, and forcing their way out. It was
discovered two hours before the time set for
carrying it into execution. 1 he leaders have
been consigned to tee inner cens.
A Western Democratic paper says the
Democratic vote in Ohio would have been
increased by ten thousand if Vallandigham
had remained at home and kept his lips
scaled. The State Committee did try to
suppress him, but the Democratic masses
would have him, on the stump.
"I saw a lady wrapped un in a shawl that
she would not take six hundred dollars for,"
said Smith to Jones. "I can beat that all
hollow," retorted Jones, "for'l saw a ladv
that was so wrapped up in her baby that 9he
wouldn't have taken six hundred thousand
dollnrs for it
A young Englishman of wealth and cul
ture recently fell in love with a souaw, in
Omaha, Kansas, and married her. The next
day she got drunk and turned somersaults
in tne street. Johannes i auras is at a loss
to know what to do under the circumstances.
J tt$hw&; girrrtanj.
ALTER BARRETT, Attorney at Law, Clear--
neia, rs. May 13, 1SW-
DR. A.M. HILLS, DENTfST. Offloe, corner of
Front and Market streets, opposite the 'Clearv
field House,' Clearfield, Pa. July 1, 1867-ly.
i
ED. W. GRAHAM, Dealer in Dry-Goods, Groce
ries, Hardware, Queensware, Woodenware',
Provisions, ete., Market Street. Clearfield. Pa.
TIVXING A SHOWERS. Dealers in Dry-Good
1M Ladies' Faney Goods, Hats and Caps, Boots,
Shoes, etc.. Second Street, Cltar&eld', Pa. sep2
Yf" ERR ELL A BIGLER, Dealers in Harawars
LYJ and manufacturers of Tin and Sheet-iron
rare, Second Street. Clearfield, Pa. June 'M. '
HF. NAUGLE, Watoh and Clock Maker, and
. dealer in Watches, Jewelry, Ac. Room la
Graham's row, Market street. Mov. 10.
HBUCHEK SWOOPE, Attorney at Law.Cleas
. field, Pa. Office in Graham's Row, four doo
west of Graham A Boynton'a store. Sov. H.
I TEST, Attorney at Law. Clearfield, Pa., will
. attend promptly to all Legal business entrust
ed to his care in Clearfield and adjoining eoua
ties. Office oa Market street. July IT, lHfiT.
THOMAS H. FORCE!', Dealer In Square and
Sawed Lumber, Dry-Goods, Queensware, Gro
ceries. Flour, Grain, Feed, Bacon, Ac-, Ao., Of a
hamton, Clearfield county, Ps. Oct. 18.
JP. KRATZER, Dealer in Dry-Goods, Clothing,
Hardware. Queensware. Groceries, Proi-
sions.ete., Market Street, nearly opposite the
Court House, Clearfield, Pa; June, 1965.
HARTSWICK A IRWIN, Dealers in Drags,
Medicines. Paints. Oils, Stationary, Perfume
ry . Faney Goods, Notions, eto., etc. Market street,
Clearfieldi Pa Dee. 0, 1865.
( KRATZER A SOX, dealers Sn Dry Goods,
j. Clothing. Hardware, Queensware, Groce
ries, Provisions. Ac, Front Street, (above the A
cademy.) Cleat field, Pa. Dee XT, 18M.
JOHN GUELICH. Manufacturer of all kinds of
Cabinet-ware, Market street Clearfield, Pat
He also makes to order Coffins, on short notice, and
attends funerals with a hearse. AprlO,'S9. .'
THOMAS J. M'CULLOCQH, Attorney at Law,
Clearfield, Pa. Office, east of the '-Clearfield
o Bank. Deeds and other lfegal instruments pre
pared with promptness and accuracy. July -
J B MEN ALLY, Attorneyst Law, Clearfield,
. Pa. Practices in Clearfield and adjoining
tounties. OCee in new brick building of J . Boyn
t , 2d street, one door south of Lanioh's Hotel.
RICHARD MOSSOP, Dealer In Foreign and Do
mestic Dry Goods, Groceries, Floor, Bacon,
Liquors, Ao. Room, on Market street, a few doors
west ot Journal OJUe, Clearfield, Ps. " AprtT.
DENTISTRY. J. P CORNETT, Dentist.
his professional services to the eitisens of
Curwensville aud vioinity. Offloe in Drug Store,
corner Main and Thompson Sts. May 2, I860.
PB. READ, M D., Physician and Surgeon,
. having removed to George J. Kyter's deo'd,
near William's Gro .e, Pa., offers his professions!
services to thceititens of thesurroundlng country.
July 10, 1807.
FRANK BARRETT, Conveyancer and Real
Estate Agent, Clearfield, Ps. Offioe on Sec
ond Street, with Walter Barrett, Esq. Agent for
Plantation and Gold Territory in South Carolina,
Clearfield inly 10, 1667.
FREDERICK LEITZINGBR, Manufacturer of
all kinds nf Stona-wara. Clearfield. Pa. Or
der solicited wholesale or retail. He also keeps
on hand and for sale an assortment of earthen
ware, of his own manufacture. Jan. 1, 1861
JOHN H. FULFORD, Attorney at Law. Clear
field, Pa. Office with J. B. MoXnally, Esq.,
over First National Bank. Prompt attention giv
en to the securing of Bounty claims, Ac, ana to
all legal business. March IT, 1867.
J BLAKE WALTERS, Seriviner and Convey
. anoer, and Agent for the purchase and sals
of Lands, Clearfield, Pa. Prompt attention giv
en to all business connected with the ooenty oA
ees. Office with W A. Wallace. Jan. A.
G ALBERT A B&O'S. Dealers in Dry Goods,
. Groceries, H ard ware. Queens ware. Flour Bn
eon, etc, Woodland. Clearfield county. Ps. Alss,
extensive dealers in all ktndsef sawed lumber
shingles, and square timber. Orders soliolted
Woodland, P.,Aug. 19th, 19A3
WALLACE. BIGLER A FIELDING. Attor
neys at Law' Clearfield, Pa.. Legal basinets
of all kinds promptly and accurately attended to.
uiearneia, ra., .May jotn, leo.
WILLIAM A. WAXLACB WlLMAJf 3. BIOLES
SLAKE WALTEBS PBASK Ft ELTJlse
DR. J. P. BCRCHFIELD Late Surgeon of the
83d Rez't Penn'a Vols., bavins returned
from the army, offers his professional services to
the eitisens of ClearCeid and vicinitju Profes
sional calls promptly attended to. Offioe oa
South-East corner of 3d sod Market Streets.
Oct. 4. 1865 mp.
pURNlTURE ROOMS.
JOHN GITELICn,
Desires to inform his old friends and euetotaece
that, having enlarged his shop and increased bis
facilities for manufacturing, he is now prepared
to make to order such furniture as assy be desir
ed, in good style and at cheap rates for cash. He
mostly has on hand at his -'Fttiiture Rooms,"
a varied assortment of furniture, among which is.
BUREAUS AND SIDEBOARDS, ,
Wardrobes and Book -eases; Centre, Sofa, Parlory
Breakfast and Dining extension Tables.
Common, French-posts, Cottage, Jea-ny-JLtind
ana other Bedsteads.
SOFAS OF ALL KINDS, WORK-STANDS, HAT'
RACKS, WASH-STANDS, Ac. .....
Spring-seat. Cain-bottom, and Parlor Chairs;
And common and other C airs. ' '
LOOKING-GLASSES
Of every description on hsnd, and new glee for
old frames, which will be put it on very
reasonable terms, onehort notloe.
He also keeps on hsnd. or furnishes to order. Hair,
Corn-bank. Hair and Cotton top Mattresses. '
COFFINS, OF EVERY RIND, '
Made to order, and funerals attended with 1
Hearse, whenever desirable.
Also, House painting done to order.'
The above, and many other articles are fornKsbed
to oustomers chesp for cash or exchanged for ap-
L roved country produoe.. .Cherry, Maple, Poplar,
in-wood and other Lumber suitable for the bael-.
ness, taken in exchange for furniture.
Remember the shop is on Manet street, CI sac
field, and nearly epposits the "Old Jew Store."
Oeeeuber 4, 1861 JOHN GCKUCB.
mr