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BY S. J. 'ROW.
CLEARFIELD, PAM : WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 1868.
-VOL. 14 NO. 21.
.retort gflrtrtj.
THE LITTLE PEOPLE.
A dreary place would be the earth
Were there no little people in it;
The song of life would lose i:s mirth.
Were there no children to begin it.
No little forms, like buds to grow,
And make the admiring heart surrender;
No little hand on breast and brow.
To keep the thrilling love cords tendor,
No babe within our arms to leap.
No little leet toward slumber tending ;
No little knee in prayer to bend.
Our lips the sweet words londing.
"What would the ladies do for work,
Were there no pants or jackets tearing ?
No tiny dresses to ein Voider ?
No cradle for their watchful caring?
No rosy boys at wintry morn.
With satchel to the school-house hasting;
No merry shouts as home they rush,
No precious morsel for their tasting.
Tall, grave, grown people at the door.
Tall, grave, grown people at the table;
The men of business all intent.
The dames lugubrious as they're able.
The sterner souls would get more stern.
Unfeeling natures more inhuman,
And man to stoic coldness turn.
And woman would bo less than woman.
For in that clime toward which we roach,
Thro' time's mysterious, dim unfolding.
The little ones with cherub smile
. Are still our Fathers face beholding.
So Raid His voico in whom we trust.
When in Judea's realm a preacher,
He made a child confront the proud.
And be in simple guisj their teacher.
Life's song, indeed, would lo?e its charm,
Were there no babies to bogin it ;
A doleful place this world would bo,
Were tnere no little people in it.
Young Married Women in Society.
Young women in America withdraw them
selves from society almost as soon as the
marriage vows are exchanged, and da not
expect to emerge from their seclusion until
they do 90 as mothers with marriageable
daughters. This is one great fault of our so
ciety. -It consists almost entirely of girls,
young men, the mothers of the girls, and
the fathers, whom the mothers occasionly
drag into the drawing room. Women, at
the age when they are most interesting, very
pt:kloiu appear at oil. They phut themselves
up with their, husbands and their , young
children. They are not expected to be seen.
Society is supposed to be too much engaged
in pairing off the younger folks to pay any
attention to them- In no country of the
world is society so tru'y and unmistakably a
public matrimonial as in this. 3Iothers ex
hibit their daughters in the piettiest possible
dresses, with ribbons and flowers.
l'oung men make their efforts hearts
generally sometimes fortunes and the fair
young creatures are led away, never to ap
jer again until they have goods of their
own to offer. They are considered "out of
the market, ''and seem themselves to lose all
interest in the social gaities which they
should do their share in sustaining. Society
is thus robbed of its brightest ornaments.
Woman, when she is at thefulnessof aiatu
rity, yet still young, when she combines mat
ronly dignity with the animation and vigor
of girlhood, . retires from the social world.
She leaves society imperfects-there is a va
cuum a want of something in the drawing
room which we have all felt, and the place
of which dancing and small talk cannot -supply,
i How often we hear complaints of the
"frivorlities" of society not from those
only who think religion and social pleasure
antagonistic, but from those who long for
the intellectual sparkle of conversation..
What have we to compare with the wit,
the life, the brilliancy of French society ?
i Ins is due to young married women, who in
France enjoy society, and are, in fact, its
life. We cannot afford to loose the society
of women the moment they are married and
lay aside, if not the timidit', certainly the
verdancy of girlhood. It does our young
girls no good, either, to monopolize the
drawing room. We would not have them
secluded as they are, and foolishly, in Eu
rope, but we would have them stand mod
estly behind their older and more experi
enced sisters. They would be more interes
ting 'themselves, and society would not be
fhe incomplete and unsatisfactory thins it is.
loung married women are needed in society.
John Jacob Astor, Jr., one of the weal
thiet men of the city of New York, died
r,n FriJay, in the sixty fifth year of his age.
Ho was cne of the three sons of the late
John Jacob Astor, the famous millionaire.
The two surviving eons are Wm. 1$. arid
Henry the latter of whom lives secluded in
a mansion in Fourteenth street, in conse
quence of mental infirmity. The life of the
ut-ceased was not one that f urnished much
Material for the biographer. He was a
fiiet, unobstrusivG man, and seemed desi
rous of going through life in the enjoyment
' his inherited riches, attracting as little
public attention as possible.
A Correspondent of the Mansfield (Ohio)
frmWsays: "Mrs. Raskins, who died at
-allien on the If.th ult., was born in what is
low Burlington, Vermont, in 1751, and was
consequently one hundred and sixteen years
'ase when the died. When young she
as bound out, and did much hard work.
In early life she lived on Long Island, and
n;n the British invaded New York, fled
00 foot, carrying her bed and a few other
smeles, eighteen miles, to a place of safety.
olJe was the mother of ten children, eight of
om still survive."
clergyman asked some children, "Why
?eayin the Lord's Prayer, 'Who' art iu
"wven since God is everywhere?" He
saw a little drummer who looked as if he
wu,i pive an answerj arj .j turned to him for
V'Wcll, little soldier, what say you?"
'cause it's headquarters. ' '
' A MAN AT THE DOOE. ,
"No tramps here," said I; and I shut
the door in his face. The wind blew so I
could hardly do it, and the sleet was beating
on the panes, and the bare trees were groan
ing and moaning as if they suffered in thts
storm.
"No tramps here, I'm a lone woman, and
I'm afraid of 'em."
Then the man I hadn't seen yet for the
dark, went away from the door champ,
champ, came through the slush, and I
heard the gate creak, and then champ,
champ, came the man back again, and he
knocked on the door knocked not half so
loud as he had before and I opened it, hot
and angry. This time I saw his face, a pale
ghostly face, with yellow brown hair, crop-
Xped close, and great staring blue eyes ; and
he put his hand against the door and held
it open. -
"How far is it to the next house, ma'am?"
said he.
"Three miles or more," said I.
"And there is no tavern ?"
"No," said I; "no drinks to be got
there; it's Miss Mitten's ; she's as set a
gaiust tramps as I am."
"I don't want to drink." said the man,
"but I want food. You needn't be afraid
to let me in, ma'am. 'I've been wound
ed, and am not able to walk if'ar, and my
clothes are thin, and it's Litter cold. I've
been tryincr to get to my parents at Groen-
bank, where lean rest until I'm better.and
all my money was stolen from me three days
ago. You needn't bo afrai i ; just let me lie
before the fire, and give me a crust to keep
me from starving, and the Lord will
bless you for it." Aud then he looked at
me with his mild blue eyes in a way that
would have made me do it, if I hadn't seen
so mucn ot tnoe imposters. . me war was
just over, and every beggar that came along
said that he was asoiJier traveling home,
and had been wounded and robbed. Oue
that I had been fool enough to help limped
away out ot sight, as he thought, and then,
for I was at the garret window, thouldered
his crutches, and traaiped it with the strong
est. "No doubt your pocket is full of money,"
said I, "and you only want a chance to rob
aud murder me. Go away with you."
Drusilla, that's' my niece, was baking
cakes in the kitchen. - Just then she came
to the door and motioned with her mouth
to me, "Do let him stay, aunty, "-and if I
hadn't good sense I might, but I knew bet
ter than a chit of seventeen.
"Go away with you," says I, louder than
before. "I won't have this any longer."
And he gave a kind of groan, and took
his hand from the latch, and went champ,
champ, through the frozen snow again ; and
I thought him gone, whea there he was
once more, hardly like a knock at all a
faint touch like a child's now.
And when I opened the" door he came
quite in, and stood leaning on his cane, pale
as a ghost, his eyes bigger than ever.
"Well, of all impudence 1" said I.
He looked at me, and said he, "Madam,
I have a mother at Greenkauk. I want to
live to see her. I shall not if I try to go any
farther to-night."
"They ail want to see their mothers,"
said I, and just then it came to my mind
that I hoped my son Charles, who had been
a soldier an officer he had got to be, mind
you wanted to see ins, ana wouiu soon.
1 have been wounded, as you see, saul
he.
"Don't g) a showing me your hurts,"
said I; "they buy 'em, so they told mo, to
go begging with now. I read the papers, I
tell ye, and I'm principled, so's our clergy
man, agin giving anything, unless it's
through some well organized society.
Tramps are an abomination. And as for
keeping you all night, you can t expect that
of decent folks go!"
Drusilla came to the door and said : "Let
him stay, aunty," with her lips again, but
I took no notice.
So he went, and this time did not come
back, and I sat down by the fire, and listen
ed to the wiud and sleet, and felt the warm
fire, and smelt the bakiugcakes and the ap
ples stewing, and the tea drawing on the
kitcheu stove ; and I ought to have been
comfortable, but I wasn't. Something
seemed tugging at my heart all the time.
I gave the fire a poke, and lit another
candle to cheer myseif by, and I went to my
work basket to get the sock I had been knit
ting for my Charlie ; and as I went to get
it 1 saw something lying on the floor.
picked it up. It was an old tobacco pouch,
ever so much like the one I gave Charlie,
with fringe around it, and written on with
ink, "C. F. to R. II.," and inside was a bit
of tobacco and an old pipe, and a letter ;
and when I spread it out I saw at the top,
"My dear son.
1 knew the beggar must have dropped it,
and my heart gave one bigthump,as though
it had been turned into a hammer.
Perhaps the story was true, and he had a
mother. I shivered all over, and the fire
and the candles and the nice, comfortable
smell might not have been at all, I was so
cold and wretched. And over "and over a
gain I had to say to myself what I had heard
our pastor say so often : "Never give any
thing to chance beggars, my dear friends,
always bestow your alms on worthy persons,
through well organized societies," b Tore I
could get a bit of comfort. And what an
old fool I was to cry, I thought, when I
found my cheeks were wet.
Jiat I did not cry long, for as I sat there,
hash and crash, and jingle came a sleigh o
ver the road, and it stopped at our gate, and
I heard my Charlie's voice crying, "Hallo,
mother 1" And out I went to the door and
had him in my arms, my great tall, hand
some son. And there he was in his uni
form, with his pretty shoulder straps as
hearty as if he had never been through any
hardships. He had to leave me to put his
horse up ; and then I fori by the fire again
my owd boy. And Drusilla who had been
np stairs and had been crying why I won
der ?-7:ame down all in a flutter for they
were like brother and sister and she kissed
him, and then away she went to set the ta
ble, and the nice hot things smoked on the
cloth as white as snow ? and how Charley
enjoyed them ! But once, in the midst of all,
I felt a frightened feeling come over me,
and I knowed I turned pale, .for Drusilla
said, ''What is the matter, Aunt Fairfax?"
I said nothing, but it was this, kind o'
like the ghost of a step, going champ,
champ, over the frozen snow ; kiud o' like
the ghost of a voice, saying, "Let me lie on
the floor before your fire, and give me any
kind of a crust;" kind o' like seeing one
that had a mother, dropping down on the
wintery road freezing and starving to death
there. That was what it was, ut I put it
away and only then thought of Charlie.
We drew up together by the fire when
tea was done, and he told us thincs about
the war I'd never heard before. How the
soldiers suffered, and what weary marches
and short rations they sometimes had.
And he told me how his life had been set
upon and he badly wounded, and how,
at the risk of his own life a fellow soldier
had saved him, and carried him awa3',fight
ing his path back to camp.
"I'd never have seen you but fur him,"
says my Charlie. "Aud if there's a man on
earth I love, it is Bob II ad way the dear
est, Lest follow. We've shared each other's
rations, aud drank from the same canteen
many a time ; and if ever. I had a brother I
couldn't think more of him."
"Whv don't you bring him home to see
your mother, Charlie?" said I. "Why, I'
love him too. and anything I could do for
him. for the man who saved my boy's life,
couldn't be enough. -. Send for him, Char
lie." But Charlie shor-.k his head, and cov
ered his face with his lianas.
"Mother," said he, "I don't know wheth
er Rob Iladway is alive or dead to-day.
While I was still in the ranks he was taken
prisoner. And the prisons are poor places
to live in, mother. I'd give my right hand
to bj able to do him any good ; but I cau
find no trace of him. And he has a mother,
too ; she lives at Greenbank poor old lady.
My dear, good, noble Rob, the preserver ot
my life !" Ai d I saw Charlie nearly crying.
Not to let us see the tears, he got up and
went to the mantle-piece. I did not look
around until I heard a cry.
. "Great heavens I . what is this?" And I
turned, and Charles bad the tobacco pouch
the man had dlopped, in his hand.
"Where did this come from," said he: "I
feel as though I had seen a ghost. I gave
this to Rob Iladway the day he saved me.
We soldiers did not, have much to give,you
know, and he vowed never to part with it
while he lived. How did it come here,
mother?" ,
I fell back in my chair, white and cold,
and said I, "a wandering trauip left it here;
never Rob, my dear ; never your Rob. He
must have been an imposter. I wouldn't
have turned away any person really in want.
Oh, no, no, no, no ; it is another pouch,
child ; not that, or he stole it. A tall fellow,
wounded, he said, and going to his molher
at Greenbank. Not jour Rob."
And Charlie stood staring at me with
clenched hands; and said he, "It was my
Rob, it was my dear old Rob who saved uiy
life, and you have driven him out on such a
night as this, mother ! My mother, to use
Rjbso!"
"Curse me, Charlie," said I. "Curse me,
if you like; I'm afraid God will. Three
times he asked only for a crust ai d a place
to lie, and I drove him awaj - I, Ian i he
is lying on the roat now. Oh! if I had
known."
And Charlie caught up his hat. "I'll
find him if he's a live," saidhe. "Oh, Rob!
my dear, dear friend."
And then I never saw the girl in such a
hurry down went Drusilla on her knees,
as if she were saying her prayers, and says
she, "Thank God, I dared to do it." And
says she to me, "O, aunt! I've been trem
bling with fright, not knowing what you'd
say to me. I could not see him so faint and
hungry and wounded, turned away, aud I
put him in the spare chamber over the par
lor, and I have been so frightened all the
while."
"Lord bless you, Drusilla," said Charlie,
and "Amen," says I. , And she getting bol
der, went on : "And 1 took him up hot
short cake and apple sauce and tea," says
she, "and I took him a caudle, and a hot
brick for his feet, and I told him to eat,and
go to bed in the best chamber, Aunt Fair-
tax, with the white couuter-pane."
Alter this, Lhailie not being ungrateiul,
nor poor either, helped Rob into business.
And he cot over his wounds at last, and
grew as handsome as a picture, and to-day
week is going to marry Drusilla.
"I'd give you anything I have," said I,
"and I won't refuse you eveu Drusilla,
when he asked me, telling me he had loved
her ever since she was so kind tohim-on the
night I've told you of.
And Charlie is to stand up with him, and
I am to give Drusilla away, anil Rob's sister,
from Greenbank, is to be bride's maid, and
I have a guess that some day Charlie will
brinr her home to me, in Drusilla's place.
I don't drive beggars from the door now,
as I used to, and no doubt I'm imposed up
on ; but this is what I say: "Better to be
imposed upon always, than to be cruel to one
who is really in need of vour help."
And I've read my Bible better of late,
and I know who it is that says, "Even as ye
have done it unto the least of these, ye have
done it unto me."
A young American lady, Miss Beckwith,
daughter of the American Commissioner at
the Great Exposition, has been attracting
much attention at the Bois be Boulogne, by
the agility and grace with which she exe
cuteslhe most difficult feats in skating.
The Emperor and Empress, it is said, watch
her with great interest.
" . A Steam Man. ' ' 1 . '
t The old adage. ' which proclaims that
there's nothing new under the sun," has
beendaringly and yet successfully refuted.
Mr. Zaddock Deddrick.a Newark machinist,
has invented a steam man, one that, moved
by steam will perform some of the most im
portant functions of humanity; that will,
standing upright, walk or .run, as he is
bid, in any direction and at almost anj' rate
of speed, drawing after him a load whose
weight would tax the strength of three stout
draught horses. The history of this curious
invention is as follows :
Six years ago Mr.Deddrick, the inventor,
who is at present but twenty-two years of
age, conceived the novel idea cf constructing
a man that should receive its vitality from a
perpetual motion machine. The idea was
based on the well known mechanical princi
ple that if a heavy weight be placed at the
top of an upright slightly inclined from a
vertical, gravitation will tend to produce a
horizontal as well as vertical motion.
The project was not successful. Howev
er, by observing carefully the cause of the
failure, persevering and perfecting the man
form, and by substituting steam in place of
the perpetual motion machine, the present
success was attained.
The man stands seven feet nine inches
high, the other dimensions of the body be
ing corroefly proportioned, making him a
second Daniel Lambert, by which name lie
is facetiously spoken of among t he work
men. He weighs five hundred pounds.
Steam is generated in the body or trunk
which is nothing but a threehorse power en
gine, like those used in our steam fire en
gines. The legs which support it are com
plicated and wonderful. The steps are tak
en very naturally and quite easily. As the
body is thrown forward on the advanced foot
the other is lifted from the ground by a
st ring and thrown forward by the steam.
Each stop or pn?o advances the body two
feet, and every revolution of the engine pro
duces four paces. A3 the engine is capable
of making more than a thousand revolurions
a minute, it would get over the ground on
this calculation at " the rate of a little more
than a mile a minute. As this would be
working the legs faster than would be safe
on uneven ground or on broad street cobble
stoncs,'it ..is proposed to run the engine at
the rate of five revolutions per minute.which
would walk the man at the modest speed of
Jialf a mile a minute.
lho iellow is attached to a common rock-a-way
carriage, the shafts of which serve to
support him in a vertical position. These
shafts are two bars of iron, which are made
fast iu the usual manuer to the front axle ot
the carriage, and are curved so as to be join
ed to a circular sustaining bar, which passes
around the waist, like a girth, and in which
the man moves so as to face in any direction.
Besides these motions machinery has been
arranged by which the figure can be thrown
backward or forward from a vertical, nearly
forty-five degrees. This is done iu order to
enable to ascend or descend all grades. To
the soles of the feet spikes or corks are fixed
which effectually prevent slipping. The
whole affair is so firmly sustained by the
shafts, and has so excellent a foothold that
two men are unable to push it over,or in any
way throw it down. In order to enable it to
stop quickly, it is provided with two appli
ances, one of which will, as before stated,
throw it backward from the vertical, while
the other bends the knees in a direction op
posite to the natural position.
An upright post, which is arranged in
front of the dashboard, and within easy i
reach of the front seats, sustains two mina
ture pilot wheels, by the turninsj of which
these various motions and volutions are di
rected. It is expected that a sufficiently
large amount of coal can be stowed away un
der the back seat of th 3 carriage to work
the engine for a day, and enough water in a
tank under the front seat to last half a day.
In order to prevent "the giant" from
frightening horses by its wonderful appear
ance, Mr. Deddrick intends to clothe it and
give it as nearly as possible a likeness to the
rest ofhumanity. The boiler and such parts
as are necessarily heated will be encased in
felt or woolen under garments. Pants, coat
and vest of the latest styles, are provided.
Whenever the fires need coaling, which is
every two or three hours, the driver stops
the machine, descends from his seat, unbut
tons "Daniel's" vest opens a door, shovels
in the fuel, buttons up the vest and drives
on. Oa the back between the shoulders
the steam cocks and gauges are placed. As
these would cause the coat to set awkward
ly a knapsack has been provided that com
pletely covers thein. A blanket neatly rol
led up and placed on top of the knapsack
perfects the delusion. The face is moulded
into a cheerful countenance of white enamel
which contrasts well with the dark hair and
moustache. A sheet iron hat with a gauge
top acts as a smoke stack.
The cost of the "first man" is $2,000,
though the makers, Messrs. Deddrick &
Grass, expect to manufacture succeeding
ones, warranted to run a year, without re
pairs, for $300. The same parties expect to
construct, on the same principle, horses that
will do the duty often or twelve ordinary an
imals of the same species. These, it is con
fidentially believed, can be used alike before
carriages, streetcars and plows. The man
now constructed can make his way over any
irrigular surface whose ruts and stones are
not more than nine inches below or above
the level of the road.
Prof. Bischoff, of Munich, has recently re
ceived numerous skulls of ourangoutang,
chimpanzee and gorilla, and comes to the
conclusion that Darwin has tailed to prove
the ascent of man from the monkey.
The editor of a paper in Maine has lost
his Wllnf torn three cent script,
" ' " VUUlii'""0 11,1 1 '
two postage stamps mat, uauu b c . ,
r-t f 1 a JaIIah hill i
but once and a Confederate one dollar bill, i
"Dead broke" at last. .
How a Jealous Wife was Cured.
Sam J is a jolly, rollicking cuss, with
a face always expanded by a smile, aud a
heart always warm with affectionate yearn
ing for his. pretty little wile But Sam's
jolly, free and easy disposition places him on
the most friendly terms with all who know
him, male and female, and the gushing
warmth of his heart often displays itself in
the most kindly demonstrations toward those
he esteems.
. Now, Sam's wife, although pretty, and
loving him wildly, is not of the same rollick
ing disposition as her husband, and cannot
exactly understand how" he can kiss the girls,
as he frequently does, , and hug them too, and
at the same time maintain for her that love
which every husband owes his wife. In
deed, figlu off the feeling as she would, the
genius of jealousy ' took possession of her
soul, and she led Sam, to use his own words,
"an awful life." This 'awful life' Sam en
dured as best he could, hoping soon to con
vince his wife of the injustice she did in sus
pecting him of infidelity to her.
A few weeks ago Sam's wife, of a sudden,
took a notion to visit some relatives up'- in
Ohio, and alter admonishing her husband to
be more circumspect and prudent, departed
on her journey, to be absent one month.
Now Sam is decidedly opposed to'sleeping
alone, being a victim ot horrible nightmare,
and, withal, somewhat afraid of rubbers. So
he prevailed upon a young Charley , to
bleep with him each night. Charley, being
an early riser, was always up and away of a
morning, before any one else aboct the
house arose. -
Sam had an old lady living in the house,
and she was just as lull of'inquisitiveness as
any other woman, and had not the most ex
alted estimate of Sam's married fidelity.
But when makina; up the bed each morning
she discovered head murks upon two pillows
instead of one, hor suspicious took definita
shape, and she was quite ready to swear that
Sam's bed was occupied each night by a
woman as well as himself. Indeed, she
would have sworn to it.
Well, she writes Sam's wife a letter, de
tailing her conviction, and arranging for her
to come home immediately, and to arrive on
the midnight train. Then to slip quietly
home, and as quietly into her husband's
room, and then she would be convinced her
suspicions were not groundless.
This little programme was carried out
beautifully. The old lady met the returning
wife at the door, and said : "You are in cime
she's here, the nasty thing in bed with
Sam in your bed, too, the impudent hus
sy." The wife became furious, but made
no noise just then ; laying aside her bonnet,
shawl, &c., she took a lamp, walked lightly
to the door of her husbands room, listened,
heard talking, began to scream and pound
on the door, and brought Sam out of bed in
a jiffy, and to the door, en dishabille.
The wife gave no answer to his wiid in
quiries as to what was the matter and what
had brought her home so unexpectedly. She
screamed out, "you villain, you scamp ; I've
caught you at last. You could not deceive
me. always. Ah, that vile woman, I'll kill
her."
Sam smelt a large sized mice. He appre
ciated the situation at once, and played his
part in a masterly manner. ' Well, my dear,
you have fairly caught me, and I reckon I
might as well conies i and have done with it,"
Sam said, and turning to the bed he cried
out, "get up, Mary, for it's all up with us,
for my wife has come, and she now knows
all. Let's ask forgiveness and promise to
sleep together no more."
Then Charley's head darted out from un
der the cover, developing an immense jaii
of whiskers for a woman and he said :
"Take her away, Sam, I can't get up before
her, for I have no clothes cn but just my
shirt." Tlur jealous wife turned white.then
spotted, then red. She read it all, in fact.
Sam shrieked ont the loudest, broadest guf
faws, and the old lady.whohad followed the
wife up stairs, exclaimed, "did you ever!"
Sam and his wife retiied to the parlor,
while Charley dressed and soon went down.
Explanations followed, mysteries were un
ravelled, a few tears, some jolly lip smack
ing, and the curtain dropped. Sam says his
wife will never be iaalous of him again at
least she so declares.
A Dog Stout. A large Newfoundland
dog, carrying a bundle iu his mouth, about
eight o'clock on Thursday evening, barked
at the door of No. 451 Second avenue, New
York. The dog deposited the bundle and
ran away. When the door wa opened, and
the bundle untied, it was found to contain a
female child about a week old. The Com
missioners of Charities and Correction took
charge of the child.
The Rev. Dr. Spurgcon, of London is a
sensible man. He recently told his hearers
that if some of them stayed at home on week
days to mind their business, instead of run
ning about to preai h in little chapels, few r
would become bankrupt. He also advised
his female devotees to st-ay at home'darn
ing" their husband's stockings occasionally,
instead of always flocking to indulge in a lit
tle religiousexcitejnent
A New York City lady found a powder
wrapped up in a paper on the street, the
other day, and supposing it to be veast pow
der, used it in making cakes. Her death
and a post-mortem examination revealed
the fact that it was a preparation of arseuic.
The Western Musical World says : One
evening, at a social gathering, a young lady
played a piece of music consisting of twenty
four pages. A gentleman,' in referring to it
next day, said ihiey were favored with music
by the quire.
There is living in the Sixteenth ward, in
Cincinnati, an oil Frenchman who stood
near the scaffold where the great trench ty-
rant, Kobespicrre, wasguimouneu tne ioou
of the victim actually spoutmg in his face.
7ALTEK BARRETT, Attorney at Law, Clear-
neia, ra. May li, itsoa.
DR. A.M. HILLS, DENTIST. Office, corner of
Front and Market streets, opposite the 'Clear
field House,' Clearfield, r. . July 1, lS67-ly.
ED. W. GRAHAM, Dealer in Dry-Good, Grooe
riea, Hardware. Queeneware, Wooden ware,
Provisions, etc., MarRet Street. Clearfield, Pa.
-VTIVLINU SHOWERS, Dealers iaDry-Good
1 Ladies' Fancy Goods, nats and Caps, Boots,
Shoes, etc.. Second Street, Clearfield, Pa. - sep2& '
MERRELL A BIGLER, Dealers in Hardware
and manufacturers of Tin and Sheet-iron
Tare. Second Street, Clearfield, Pa. Jane '66.
HF. N AUG LE, Witch and Clock Maker, and
. dealer in Watches, Jewelry, Ac. Room in
Graham's row, Market street. Nov. 10.
HBUCHER SWOOPE. Attorney at Law,Clea'r
. field. Pa. Ofr.ce inUraham's Row, fourdoota
west of Graham A Uojnton s store. Nov. lit.-
I TEST, Attorney at Law. Clearfield, Pa., will
. attend promptly to all Legal business entrust
ed to hiacare in Clearfield atid adjoining coun
ties. Office on Market street.' July 17, 1867.
rplIOMAS H. FORCEY, Dealer fn PqnaTe anj
Ssawed Lumber, Dry-Goods, Queensware, Gro
ceries, Flour. Grain. Feed, Bacon, to , Ac, Gra
ham ton. Clearfield county, Pa. Oct. 10.
TP. KRATZER. Dealer in Dry-Goous. Clothing", .
. Hardware Queensware, Groceries. Provi--sious.etc
, Mnrkct Street, nearly opposite th
Court House, Clearfield. Pa. June. 1865. '
HARTSWICK A IUWIX, Dealers in Drugs,
Iedicincs. Paints, Oils. Stationary, Perfume
ry . Fancy Goods, Notions, etc., etc.. Market street,
ClcaiEcld. Pa Deo. 6, 1865.' .
f KRATZER A SON, dealers in Dry Goods
V j. Clothing. Hardware, Queensware, Groce.
ries. Provisions. Ac, Front Street, (above the A.--cadeuiy,)
Cleai field. Pa. Deo 27, 1SB5.
JOHN GUELICH. Manufacturer of all kinds ot
Cabinet-ware, Market street, Clearfield, Pa'
ile also makes to order Coffins, on short notice, and
attends funerals with a hearse. Aprl0,'59.
THOMAS J. M'CULLOOGn, Attorney at Lair,
. Clearfield. Pa. Office, cjistof the -Clearfield
o- Bank. Deeds aud other legal instruments pre
pared with promptness and accuracy. July 3. 1
JB M'EXALLY, Attorneyat Law. Clearfield,
Pa. Practices in Clearfield and adjoining
counties. Oftce in new brick building of J. Boyn.
t n, 2d street, one door south of Lanich'a Hotel.
1 1CUARD MOSSOP, Dealer in Foreign and Dor
l) mestio Dry Goods, Groceries,-Flour, Bacon,
Liquors, Ae. Room, on Market street, a few doom
west ot Journal Offit, Clearfield, Pa. Apr27.-
DENTISTRY. J. P CORNETT, Dentist, offeri
his professional services to the citizens of
Curwensville aud vicinity. Office in Drug Store,"
corner Main and Thompson Sta. May 2, 1866.
FB. READ, M D., Physician and Surgeon,
. William's Grove, Pa., offurs his professional
services to the citizens of the surrounding coun
try. - July 10th, 18B7-tf.
1 FREDERICK LEITZINGER, Manufacturer of
; all kinds of Stone-ware, Clearfield, Pa. Or
ders solicited wholesale or retail. He also keeps
on hand and for sale an assortment of earthen
ware, of his own manufacture. - J"n. 1, 1863
JOHN H. FUT.FORD, Attorney at Law.' Clear
field. Pa. Office with J. B. McEnally, Esq.,
over First National Bank.- Prompt attention giv
en to the securing of Bounty claims, Ac, and t
all legal basinets. Maroh 27, tS6f
G ALBERT A BRO'S, Dealers in Dry Goods
. Groceries, Hardware. Quccnswaro-Flour Bat
con, etc.. Woodland. Clearfield county. Pa. Also,
extensivo dealers in all kinds of sawed lumber'
shingles, and square timber. Orders solicited. "
Woodland. Pa., Aug. 19th, 186a
"ITTALLACE. BIGLER A FIELDING. Attor-.
V nejs at Law1 Clearfield, Pa.. Legal business
of all kinds promptly and accurately attended to.
Clearfield, Pa., May 16th, 1S66.
WILLIAM A. WALLACE WILLIAM 3. BIGLER
J.BLAKB WALTEKS FRANK FrELDlKO
DP- J. P. BURCHFIELD Late Surgeon of the
83d Reg't Ponn'a Vols., having returned
from the army, offers his professional service's to
the citizens ot Clearfield and vicinity, t'roios
sional calls promptly attended to. Office on
South-East corner of 3d and Market Streets.
Oct. 4. 1S65 Cmp.
URN ITU RE ROOMS.,
JOHN GUEL1CII,
Desires to inform bis old friends and customers
that, having enlarged his shop and increased hi
facilities for manufacturing, be is now prepared
to make to order -such furnitnre as may be desir
ed, in good style and at cheap rates for cash. He
mostly has on hand at his --Furniture Rooms,",
a varied assortment of furniture, among which is,
HUKEAirS A.M) SIDEBOARDS, "
Wardrobes and Book-cases; Centre, S-ofa. Parlor, '
Bre&kf:ist and Dining extension Tables.
Common, French-posts, Cottrage, Jenny-Land
and other Bedsteads.
SOFAS OF ALL KrXDS. WORK-STANDS, HAT 1
RACKS, WASH-STANDS, Ao.
Spring-scat, Cain-bottom, and Parlor Chairs;
And common and other Chairs.
LOOKING-GLASSES
Of every description on bund, and new gla!! fer
oid frames, which will be put in an very ;
reasonable terms, os?hort notice.
n also keeps on hand, or furnishes to order, Hair,
Corn-bu3k. Hair and Cotton top Mattresses. .
COFFINS, OF EVKKY KIND,
Made to order, and funerals attended with a
Hearse, whenever desirable.
'" Also, Honse painHng done to order.
The above, and many other articles are furnished
to customers cheup for cash or exchanged for ap-
proved country produce. Cherry. Maple. Poplar,
Lin-wood and other Lumber suitable for the busi
nees. taken in exchange for furniture. ,
Remember the shop is on MarKet street. Clear
field, and nearly opposite the "Old Jew Store."
JteeamheT ml JOHN GUELICH-
rj. RAPE VINES FOR SALE. All the :
leadinsr hardy varieties of first quality, -
Concord Cuttings, 51.00 per hundred.
Orders solicited as soon as convenient and filled
in -otation. bv A M.HILL3.
Aug. 21, '67. Clearfield, Pa. .
SWAIM'S PANACEA. Kennedy's Medical Di
eovery, Hembold's Buchu. Bake's Cod Liver
Oil. Jaync's and Ayer's Medicine. for sale by
Jaa.10 .UIiT$WlCK fRWLN.
7-; x
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