i t r BY S. J. ROW. CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 1868. VOL. 15.-NO. 10. gtU(tQttt. MAEJOBIE'3 ALMANAC. Rabins ia th tree topi, BImloou ia th graa ; Green thing e-growing Xverywber 70a paw ; Sudden UtU breeias, Showers of silver dew, flack bough and beat twig Bn:l4ins; oat anew ; Pin. tree aod willow tre, FrlBgad aim aad larch Pea't 70a think that May-time's Pleasanter than March ? Apple ia th orchard, Hallowing ana by on ; Strawberries upturning Soft checks to tho no ; Reese, faiat with sweetness, Lillies, fair of fa"e ; Drowsy scents and manners Hanoting vry .place; Lengths of goldea snnshine. Moonlight bright as day Don't yoa thiak that summer's Pleasanter than May ? Bogar in tha eorn path Whistling negro songs; Pussy by tho hearth aide. Romping with the tonga; CbestnaU in the ashes, Earning through the rind ; Bod leaf and gold leaf Rnatling down the wind ; Mother "doin' peacbee" All tbe.afternoon Don't yon think that Autumn's Pleaaanter than June ? Little fairy mow flake Daneing ia the fine, Old Mr. Santa Clam, What ia keeping you ? Twilight aad fire-light, Shadowa come and go ; Harry ehime of sleigh bells, Tinkling through the snow ; Mother's knitting atockings, (Pussy's got the ball) Don't you think that Winter's Pleaaanter than all 1 THE DASHFOBD TRAGEDY. I'ashford had a sensation, and it was so nw a thing that all the village was agog with cars to hear of, mod eyes to view the object Everybody in the place, probably, who could read, had read the name on the looks of the Red Mag Charles Wylie, New York City. 'I he Red Mug was the centre of attraction. The landlord could not recall the time when "r hid had so much company certainly not .ace the days of the old regimental masters -or the time when six stages stopped over night at his house before the railway abom ination had sprung into existence. The Red Mug was kept open more from the force of habit than from any necessity f a public house at Dashford. Not once a noon did Landlord Stark hava a guest at jiinoer.aad it had been so long since the best W had been slept in, that the very day of Mr. Wylie's arrival Dame Stark had caused it to be transported to the top of the wood pile for air, and she had spent the best part of the forenoon beating it with a bean pole. Aad when the depot carriage drove up to ihe door, aod Mr. Wylie, portmanteau in Band, alighted. Dame Stark was wont to de clare that the sight of him took all the strength out of her, when she remembered that there waa bread pudding for dinner.and aot a spoonful of preserves in the house. But the stranger soon set her mind at rest V raVriog crackers and milk for his dinner and he did not require the feather bed at 1; he preferred the mattress. it was known that there was a stran gt in their midst, the Daahford peopla lost so time in commencing investigating into his habits aad business. The landlord was questioned, and the facta elicited that he w it seven, drank a glass of ale or porter, aJ an on the verandah and smoked. The landlady knew that he had a dozen "7 fine linen 6hirts ; that he wore gold r.uit used otto of tosea on his bandker h;f, and never wiped twice on the same teiL The chambermaid who was young "d rather pretty knew that he had a pleas at Toiee, and very soft bauds, thongh how he ascertained the last fact does not appear. The young ladies of Dashford were all ta "0 with ao astonishing liking for the soci al of Ianie Stark. What a multitude of leases they made for calling. One wanted fwipe for dyeing ribbons another the Pttera of hsr cap for mother, and another to see the Utter of white kittens over ih the great white cat purred so untir totlj i the basket under the kitchen table. o know that young ladies are prone to harmless deceptions of this sort, the ld over. Sometime, they saw Mr. Wylie, and the p081 lowing accounts were given of him. rom l the facts that could be gathered, it appear that he was about tweoty ;ht or thirty year, 0f age rather tall and ender, with regular features brown eyes ad hir. nd a chestnut beard. And be et he had a haughty air, a disinclination sociality, and jik;ng for m preUy ft. lel:nj Drown, the very boldest of the ladies, gave a party, and invited Mr. yhe. It would be so much pleasanter for ' to make tome acquaintances, she said, people thought he would not accept Jf' 'agitation, but ha did so, and was the ' e of the party. He charmed every one. mnners were so polished, so free from jactation, M(j j,. understood how to adapt "ulf to the tastes of each one with whom te came in contaet It was ascertained that he purposed re doing in Dashford, and that he was about Paing an offica in the ffont room of the Mag. Ile WM a physician, of five experience, and came here for the arp06e of practicing his profession. After his sign was put out it was positive ly alarming to observe how unhealthy Dash ford suddenly became. Hitherto people, for the most part, had died either by aoci dents or from old age but now the entire female community had gone ill. Coughs, colds, nervous dLseases, fevers, aad disorder ed livers was the rule.and not the exceDtion Dr. Wylie was kept riding for the greater part ot the time, and the principal wonder was when the poor fellow contrived to obtain any sleep. He was an immense favorite with the ladies, both old and young. He had such sad eyes when his countenance was at rest that they were sure he must have some secret trouble and there is no 6urer method for s man to male himself interest iug than to give people the impression that ne is bearing in silence some great sorrow. Thongh polite and courteous to ail. Dr. Wylie was not long in making his selection. and it did inGnite credit to his good taste. Lucy WalbriJge was by far the sweetest girl in Dashford. She was about twenty- five years of age an orphan and an heiress, and resided with her uucle, Squire Hillman, at the nail. And Squire Hillman's wife was obligingly taken sick of a slow fever. which gave the Doctor an excellent excuse for tying his roan horse, every day, to the great elm in front of the Squire's. w e are not writing a love story, so we will pass over the courtship. For once the course of true love seemed to run smooth There were no obstacles to surmouDt both parties were of an age to marry and there were no friends to raise objections. It was in July that Dr. Wyliecame to Dashford, and his wedding day was set for the 15th of March. It came all too soon, Lucy thought, for surely nothing could be more delightful than the charmed hl they were leading. She almost feared marriage might break the weet enchantment. The day was clear and cloudless, altogt ther unlike the days March usually gives ue,and io the morning the first bluebird sang gaily in the old elm, which reached its branches almost in at Lucy's window. Dr. Wylie made all his business calls for the sick must be attended to and on his way to his hotel, he stopped at the Hall, in defiance of all etiquette, to kiss Lucy and bid her keep up her courage. He ate his smpper with Mrs. Stark at six and then went to his room to dress.. The ceremonv was tn tk place at eight, and as soon as she could leave the china to Kate, Sirs. Stark crept to the parlor and sat down by the window to get a glimpse of the Doctor when he canie down in his wedding garments. For three whole hours 6he sat there, but be did not appear, and at last i.he was reluctantly forced to the conclusion that he had got dressed and gone while she was seeing that that careless Kate did not injure the china, which hud de scended to her from her grandmother, and which was highly prized as an old heir-loom. The old tall clock struck nine slowly and deliberately, and just as the last stroke fell onj of Squire Hillman's servants came rid inz ov-;r in great haste. Dame Stark ran out, sure that some one was dying, and the Doctor was wanted, forgetting all about the wedding for the moment. "Go.l land!" crLd she "who's took now?''" "Nobody." said the man ; "nobody is took, except Miss Lucy which was going to be married to him, and he never came, and she's took with the highstrikes, the worst kind 1 And the Squire he's swearing like mad, and he a member of the church, marm, and a speaker in meeting, and vowing he'll cowhide him within an inch of his life. And the mistress, she sent me off to see what the matter was, and bring him, whether or no 1 She says folks ought to know enough not to be took sick on the night which is the Doc tor's wedding night, and that's my own opin ion, marm." "Good land!" cried Dame Stark. "So he hain't gone to be married? Well, I couldn't think how he managed to git out without uiy seeing of him 1 Mayhap the poor gentleman has fell asleep he's broke of his rest so o'nights, it would be no won der. Here, Jim, you run up to Dr. Wylie'a room, and tdil him that it's time for him to go and be married 1" The shock-headed hostler crept off u p the st-iirs, and five minutes afterward he came rushing back, his face pale as death, his eyes starting from their sockets, and his huge frame trembling in every limb. "He's dead as a door nail!" he cried, "and a laying sopped in his own blood !" The servant from the Hall. Mrs. Stark, the landlord, and a couple of loungers, all rushed up to the chamber, and found that Jim's words were too true. Dr. Wylie was lying on the floor on his face, having evidently been stabbed in the back while sitting in a chair before the mir ror. Trace of the murderer there was none, except that on the sill ot the open window behind the dead man, there was the print of two bloody fingers. Underneath the win dow, which was only about nine feet from ground, was a thick bed of sage, which had been covered up from the winter's cold by hemlock boughs to the depth of some feet, and if the murderer had escaped by the window the hemlock gave no footprints. The news spread like wildfire and reached the Hall even before the servant could re turn to communicate it. Poor Lucy was carried to her room in delirium ; and Squire, who was also the Coroner, set forth for the Red Mug to attend the inquest which had been called. The inquest.like most other investigations of the kind, elicited nothing new and after the lapse of three days the body of Dr. Wylie was placed in Squire Hillman's fam ily vault to await the pleasure of his rela tives in New Yorkj who were at once writ ten to. As is usual in such cases, public indigna tion ran very high. Every one was anxious to convict the real assassin, that the ven geance might I e swift and sure. Dr. Wylie's brother offered & reward of five hundred dollars for the discovery and apprehension of the murderer ; and Dashford, not to be behind in the good work, offered a like amount. The offered rewards brought forth their truit. Isaac Smith, a laborer, employed at intervals about the Red Mug, came before justice and stated that on the evening of the murder, about six o'clock, he had met Clyde irvmg a young mechanic coming in great haste from the direction of the garden at the Red Mug. He had bidden him good evening, a salutation which was briefly re sponded to. Irving had appeared to be powerfully agitated from some cause, and anxious to escape. The next morning.feel- mg curious, with the rest, about the murder and everything connected with it. Mr. Smith had been over the garden, and on lookinff benenth tue hemlock which covered the sage bed, he had found a small, exceeding sham chisel, bearing on the handle the name of Clyde Irving. The instrument was rusty and stained with blood as he exhibited it to the justice and the finding of this weanon recalled the fact that, at the post mortem examination, the surgeon had expressed it as bis opinion that the fatal wound had not been made by a knife, but by some other sharp pointed instrument. Clyde Irving was a young man of irre proachable habits poor, but honest, teni perate and virtuous and the only son of a widowed mother. It was well known in Dashford that he had loved Lucy Walbridge from childhood, but that he had not spoken to her on the subject, because his station in life was so much below hers. You all know how readily people find rea sons for the truth of what they desire to be- leve. Irving had not an enemy in the vil lage but still it was necessary to have some one on whom to throw the guilt, and they were all glad that the murderer had been discovered. A score of trifling circumstan ces were brought against the unfortunate young man, and he was arrested, tried and convicted of the murder of Charles Wylie, on the evening of the 15th of March. Lucy, who had in a measure recovered from the shock she had received on the dctl of her expected husband, protested against the course events were takibir. She was morally sure that Irvicg was innocent of the crime charged upon hitu, and if the law con victed him unto death, it would slay one who was wholly guiltless. It did sd convict him. and the terrible sentence passed upon inu, to take effect on the 10th day of June following. After the decision was known to be final, Lucy Walbridge sunk into a pro found melancholy, l'rem which nothing could rouse her, and at times her friends despair ed of her reason. On the fatal 10th of June. Dashford was overrun with people. The execution was to take place in the open space in front of the jail, the time 1 1 o'clock. Just before the hour, Irving was led forth, and with a firm, quiet manner, ascended the scaffold. His ace was pale, but serene ; the calm blue eyes met the gaze of the vast multitude without shrinking, and the broad white fore head lifted itself to the soft south wind as honestly and proudly as the brow of the no blest man auiong them all. He was asked f he had anything to say, but he simply shook his head, and the black cap was drawn over his eyes. The Sheriff took the rope. but before he could place it about his heck, tall, gaunt woman, clothed in black, step ped forward, lifted a bony white hand, and uttered the single word "Forbear!" The Sheriff dropped the rope something in the air and manner of the woman com manded obedience. Silence fell upon the assemblage silence which was almost audi ble. The woman dropped the hood of her cloak upon her shoulders, and revealed a pale, haggard face, lit up by brilliant black eyes, aud framed in masses of hair as white as snow. "Listen to me," she said, in a low, thril ing voice which reached the ear of every person present "listen to me, and witness ve every one, that, before God, I avow my words to be the truth 1 Clyde Irving is in nocent of the crime you charge him with 1 You all ought to feel sure of it after looking into his face. It is not the countenance of a murderer. Three years ago I was left a widow. My name is Catharine Sinclair. My home is in New York. NV hen my husband died, all the affections of my heart centred in my child my beautiful Alice, then seventeen yean of age, and the lovliest creature the sun ever shone upon. She was my all, and loved her with a passioD which was almost madness. AH mine was she till BE came, Charles Wylie, with his fair, handsome face and his smile which might have won an an gel to sin. Alice sewed for a daughter of one of his friends, and there he became ac quainted with her. She wasfacinated, por girl, and nothing I could say bad any effect. She confided in him, trusted him entirely ; and it was the old story over again. He offered her marriage lured her under that promise to a neighboring city, and there compassed ruin., After a few days he left her basely deserted her and left tier with out money.to take her choice starvation or a life of sin. Thank God that she preferred death. He returned to New York to seek anoth er victim, and on the very night that he was playing the gay gallant to a fashionable French actress, my child buried herself and her sin beneath the dark waters of a friend ly stream. Cver the dead body which thev brought home to me I swore an oath that before Charles Wylie hoall marry any wo man he should taste death I I have kept the oath. With this hand I murdered hin striking the fatal blow with a chisel I ob tained a: Clyde Irving's shop, where I call ed to make some trifling inquiry. I deserv ed death ! I thiuk God, who knows every tried and tempted heart, will judge me len iently.. Oh, my soul shudders when I re member the hearts he lias desolated the hearths he has laid waste for my Alice was only one of many victims! "I killed him and escaped throueh the window. In leaving the garden I saw Clyde Irving there I think, for some reason, he had a distrust of me; but as there was noth ing to confirm it he kept it to himself." She paused, but though all present be lieved her story, not a man of them lifted a hand to deprive her of freedom. The Sheriff unbound Clvde, and allowed him to descend the scaffold. He was free. At last one of the constables approached Mrs. Sinclair, who, with bowed face, was leaning against the railing of the scaffold. She lifted her head, divining his purpose, and waved him bark. "The law has no power over the dead," she said hoarsely : "I am free!" Even as she spoke her lips grew purple- she lettered and fell forward ; and before they reached her she was lifeless. An ex amination after death proved that she had swallowed strye'aine "and they buried her and har sins together in the village church yard. Two years afterward, Clyde Irving mar ried Lucy Walbridge. Keep Warm and Save Yocr Life. At this season many deaths take place which might be prevented by warmer clo thing. Many a iatal case of dysentery is caused by the want of a woolen undershirt, or of an extra blanket at nieht. The sud den changes of the tempeaature which oc cur at this period of the year are very try ing to the contitutio:t. Pap!e with weak lungs quickly feel the effect of them. Fre quently the thermometer falls many degrees within a few hours. Not only the feeble, but robust and strong persons suffer from such great variations of temperature. When the weather grows cold rapidlyhe pores of the.skin are suddenly cKxsfiJ, arfd .bejresult on all winter and terminate in consumption or a fatal attack of dysentery, or that dread ful di.-ease the typhoid fever." If the day seems ever so warm and bright it is much f-aSer to wear plenty of under clothing at this season. In the evening he dews fall, and it grows chilly verysud- ily. At all times, even when it feels the warmest, one experiences the difference which is so marked, between the autumn atmosphere and that of the summer. There is something more than the mere difference n temperature; it may Iks in the electricity. An occasional tire in a room dries the walls and purifies the at mosphere. A little time ly attention to all these things would pre vent a great deal of the disease and suffer ing which are among the ills to which hu manity is liable. Mansers. There is nothing which adds so much to a youf.g man's success in life next to honesty of purpose as the practice of good manners. A polite uao will show his good breeding wherever he goes ; on the sidewalkj in the buggy, as in your parlor. If y dii meet a man who refuses to give you half the road, or to turn out on the side walk, you may class hi 111 as a man with no sense of justice in his soul. When we speak of a polite man. we do not wish to be under stood as referring to one who bows low and takes off his hat to ladies and men of posi tion, and turns away from the poor; man, but we mean the honest face the man who always carries a smile on his countenance, and who never turns his face away from the poor; we mean the man who has a k'md salutation when he meets you in the morning, and a pleasant "Good night" in the evening ; a man whose face is the index to his heart, which "is always avoid of offense. Such a man is bound to succeed ; such a one will find friends. Young men, be polite. Don't be bigger than your breeches. Men Wanteh. The great want of this age is men. Men who are not for sale. Men who are honest, sound from centre to circumference, true to the heart's core. Men who will condemn wrong in friend or foe, in themselves as well as in others. Men whose consciences are as steady as the needle to the pole. Men who Will stand for the right if the heavens totter and the earth reels. Men who can tell the truth and lock the world and the devil right in the eye. Men that neither brag nor run. Men that neither flag nor flinch. Men who cm have courage without shouting to it Men in whom the courage of everlasting life runs still, deep and strong. Men who- do not cry nor cause their voices to be heard on the streets, but who will not fail nor be discouraged till judgment be set in the earth. Men who mind their own business. Men who will not lie. M.-n who are not too lazy too work nor too proud to be poor. Men who are willing to eat what they have earned, and wear what ihey have paid for. "Boy, why don't you come to school?" "Cause, sir, daddy says that if I learn now, I shan't have anything to learn when I come to the 'cademy." It is merit and not title, which gives im portance. It is usefulness, and not gran deur, which makes the world happy. A "stunning" Love Letter. The following is sublimely 'splendiferous, and we cecAwmeod it as tC model to letter writers: Mf Dear Miss C Every time I tfrink of you my heart flops up and down like a churn dasher. Sensations of unutterable joy creep over it like young goats over a stable roof, and thrill through it like Spanish need les through a pair of tow linert trowsers Asa gosling swimeth with delight in a mud puddle, so rw'iw I id a sea of glory. Vis- lufts of ecstatic rapture, thicker than the hairs io a blacking brush, and brighter than the hue of the humming bird's finions.visi me in my lumbers, and borne on their visi ble wings, your image stands before me.and I reach out to grasp it, like a pointer snap ping at a blue bottle fly. When' I first be held your angelie perfections, I was bewil dered, and my brain whirled about like a humble bee under a glass tumbler. Mv eyes stood open like cellar doors in a count ry town, and I lifted up my ears to catch the silvery accents of your voice.. My tongue refused to wag, and in silent adora tion I drank in the sweet infection of love as a thirsty man swalloweth a hot whisker punch. Since the light of your face fell upon my life, I sometimes feel as if I could lift myself up by my boot straps to the top of the presbyterian steeple, and pull the bell rope for singing school. Day and night you are in my thoughts. When Aurora, blushing like a bride, rises from her saffron couch ; and when; the jay bird pipes his tuneful lay m the apple tree, by the spring house ; when the chanticleer's shrill clarion heralds the coming morn ; when the awak ened pig ariseth from his bed and grunteth, and goeth for his morning refreshments ; when the drowsy beetle wheels his drown ing flight, at sultry noontide, and when the lowing cows come home at milking time, I think of thee; and like a piece of gum elas tic, my heart seems to stretch clean across my bosom. Your Lair is like the mane of a sorrel horse, powdered with gold; and the brass pin skewered through your waterfall, fills me with unbounded awe. Your fore head is stnoothar than the elbow of an old coat. Your eyes are glorious to behold. In their liquid depths I see legions of little Cu - pids, bathing like a cohort of ants in an old army cracker. When their fire hit upon my manly breast, it penetrated my entire anat omy lika aJuaJ-of -bini-vtawc wouiOT go lUro" . a rotten apple.' Tour nose ts from a chuuV of Parian marble, and your mouth puckered with sweetness. Nectar lingers on your lips like honey on a bear's paw, and myriads of unfledged kisses are there rea!y to fly out and light somewhere, like blue birds out of the pareut's nest. Your laugh rings on my ears like the wind-harp's strains, or the bleat of a stray lamb on the bleak hillside. The dimples in your cheek are like bowers in beds of roses, or hollows in a cake of home-made sugar. I am dying to fly to your presence and pour out the burning eloquence of my love, as a thrifty house wife pours out coffee. A way from you I am as melancholy as a sick rat. Sometimes I can hear the June bugs of despoudency buzzing in my ears, and feel the cold lizards of despair crawling down my back. Uncouth feats, like a thousand minnows, nibble at my spirits, and my soul is pierced through with doubts, as an old checs with skippers. My love for yoil Is stronger than the smell of Coffy's patent butter, or the kick of a young cow, and more unselfish than a kitten's first caterwaul. As the song bird haukers for the light of day, the cautious mouse for the fresh bacon in the trap, as a lean pup hankers after new milk, so I long for thee. -' f -You are fairer than a speckled pullet, sweeter than a yankee doughnut fried in sorgum molasses, brighter than the topknot plumage in the head of a muicovy duck. You are candy kisses, raisins, pound cake and swee:ened toddy altogether. If these few remarks will enable you to see the inside of my soul, and me to win your affections, I shall be as happy as a woodpecker on a cherry tree, or a stage horse in a green pasture. If you cannot re ciprocate my thrilling passion, I will pine away like a poisoned bedbug, and falling away from the flourishing vine of life, an untimely branch; and in the coming years, when the shadows grow from the hills, and the philisophic frog sings his cheerful even ing hymns, you, happy in another's love, can come and drop a tear and catch a cold upon the last resting place of, Julius Epaminondas Muggins. Home Cheerful?! ess. Many a child goes astray, not because there is a want of prayer and virtue at home, but simply be cause home lacks tunthine. A child needs smiles as much as flowers need sunbeams. Children look little beyond the present mo ment. If a thing displeases them they are prone to avoid it. If home is the place where faces and words are harsh, and fault finding is ever in the ascendant, they will spend as many hours as possible elsewhere. Let every father and mother try to be hap py. Let them look happy. Let them talk to their children, especially the little ones, in such a way as to make them happy. An eight-hour a day man, in going home the other evening for his supper, found his wife sitting in her best clothes, on the front porch, reading a volume of travels. "How is this?" he asked, "Where's my supper?" "I don't know," said she, "I began to get breakfast at 6 o'clock this morning, and my eight hours ended at 2 P. M." Oscar Benning, of Dubuque, butcher knifed bis brother to death for being too in timate with Mrs. Osear Benning. - . Who Ate Eoger Williams ? We take the following from Steele Four teen ctk in Chemistry: The truth that matter passes from the animal back to the vegetable, and from the vegetable to the animal kingdom again, received a curious illustration not long since. for the purpose of erecting a suitable monument in memory 6f Roger Wiliiauis, 1. f 5 m t -w 1 iuc lounaer 01 ivnoae island, his private burying ground was searched for the graves ot himself and wife. It wasfouod that everything had passed into oblivion. Th shape of the coffins eofild oftly be traced by a Diack line of carbonaceous matter. Th rusting hinges and nails, and a round wood en knot, alone remained in one grave, while a lock ot braided hair was foand in the oth er. Near the grave stood an annle tree This had sent down two main roots into the very presence of the confined dr-a,. Th larger root, pushing its way to the precise spot occupied by the skull of Rtger Will iams, had made a torn as if passing around it, and followed the direction of the back bone to the hips. Here it divided?inld two branches, sending one along each leg to the heels, when both turned upward to the toe One of these root formed a sHghi crook at the knee, which made the whole bear a striking resemblance to the human form. These were the graves, but their occnpSnts had disappeared ; the bons had evert van- ii-hed. There stood the thief the guilty ap ple tree caught in the very act of robbery. The spoliation was complete. The organ ic matter, the flesh, the bones of Roger Wil liams had passed into an apple tree Th elements had been absorbed by the roots, transmuted into woody fiber, which co.ld now be burned as fuel, or carved intn menu, had bloomed into fragrant blossoms. which delighted the eye of the passer-by, and scattered the sweetest perfume of spring ; more than that has been converted into luscious fruit, which from year to year had been gathered and eaten. How pertinent then, is the question, "Who ate Roger Wil- lains? Fcnxy Scene in Couht. The Judge of one of the New Orleans municipal courts sat gloomy and grand on his beuch of er mine. The prisoner occupied tha dock, apparently week and downcast. She had a merry twinkle in her eye, however, that r" -i . 1 - . , 3 1 1 . .M-ftn.ic nerceivftd it. W would have been more care ful in his questions : "How many times are you coming up here ?" "What ycr honor ?" "How many times are you comingbefore nic? This is the third time the present week." "Oh no, yer honor !" Didn't I see you here yes terday ?"' "Why, no yer honor, it was last night yer seed roe, in the concert sa loon. It was a bit of drink we had togeth er, and yer honor did talk beautifully, wid your cunning ways and saucy jokes. Aye, yer honor's the man for the gals. The dev il admire ye, but yees are smart 1" "Stop your tongue you can go!" "Thank ye.yer honor !" The prisoner went out, the Judge blushed, and the audience roared. Selling a Geoloist. There is a story about an English geologist now "going the rounds," which would have delighted Buck land or Hugh Miller. The gentleman had spent some hours one hot day last summer collecting specimens. At the close of hit investigation he returned home, despatch ing a well filled bag by a donkey driver. This genius, thinking that it was a pity to overload his animal, and that stones could be picked up in any section of the parish, emptied the sack, and at the railway station refilled it with paving stones and semi-pulverized bricks. The moral ;or geologist is evident "Put not your trust in donkey drivers." A Good Rule. A certain man, who is very rich now, was very poor when a boy. When asked how he got his riches, he said: "My father taught me never to play till my work was finished, and never 10 spend mon ey until I ha I earned it. If I had an hour's work in a day, I must do that the first thing, and in an hour. And after this I was allowed to play, and then I could play with much more pleasure than if I had the thought of an unfinished task before my mind. I early found the habit of doing everything in time, and it soon became ea sy to do so. It is to this I owe my prosper ity." Let every one who reads this do like wise. A woman at one of the New York City dispensaries applied for medical aid, stating her disease to be "flirtation of the heart." "Not an uncommon ailment with your sex, oia'ra," replied the doctor, with a twinkle of the eye "Mother, you niusn't whip me for run ningawayfrom school any more 1" "Why?" "Because my school books say that ants, a re the most industrious being in the world and ain't I a 'tru ant?'" Enjoy the blessings of the day, if God sends them, and the evils bear patiently and sweetly, for this day only is ours ; we are dead to yesterday, and we are not born to to-morrow. A newspaper biographer, trying to say his subject 'was hardly able to bear the demise of his wife," was made by the inexorable printer to say, "tcear the chemise of his wife." There is only the difference of a toss be tween some vegetables. Toss up a pumpkin and it will come down a squash. An industrious negro near Milledgeville, Georgia, has made $1,200 profit on his crop this year. . - TJOOFLAND'S GERMAN BITTERS AND HOOFLASD'S GERMAN TOKO. TBaexaaT Baa-cares' For all diseases of the Lirer. Stomach, ot dig tire organs. Hoofland's German Bitters I. composed of the pare jnices (or, as (hey are medicinally termed, extract,) of Knots. Harb.and r,i5' ,lk'n " P" -tr aratloa.highl, eoneen trated, and entirely fre. ft,,, Jhjoi.Ka miJ mixture of any kind. HOOFLAND'S GERMAN TOiVC, Is a combination of all the fngredieats of tie Bit ters, with the pnreat qaality of Santa Cnm Rym Orar ge. Ac , making one ef the most pteaaeat and agreeable remedies erer offered te the pablie. Those preferring'a Medicine free frea Alcohol ic admixture, will nee 1IOOFLAND-3 OERjitAN SITTERS. Those who hare neob faction tt,. I.;-..: of the Bitters, si stated, will ase HOOFLAND'S GERMAN TONIC. They are both effaal! good, and anataln rh. same medicinal virtues, the choice between the two being a mere matter of taste, the Tonie being the most palatable. The stomach, fro'm p:.t a' - . - - Indigestion, DygneDsia. N very apt to have its functions deranged. The Liver, sympathizing as closely as it does with the Stomach, then be v-' comas afffil ik of which is that the patient suffers from unrl or more of the following diseases: Constipation, Flatulence, Inward Piles, Fulness of Blood to the Head. Acidity of the Stomach, Nausea, Heartburn, Dirgnst for Food.Falneaa or Weight in the Stomach, Sear Eraatations, Sinking or Flattering at the Pit of the Stomach, Swimming of the Head, Harried er Dimcnli Breathing, Fluttering at the Heart. Choking or tuffocating Sensationa when la a Lying Posters, Dimness of Viaitfn.DoUor Webs before the Sight, Dull Pain in the Head, Deficiency of Perspira tion. Yellowness of the Skin and Eyes, Pain in tha Side; Baca, Chest, Limbs, eta., Sodden flush es of Heat, Burning in the Flesh , Constant im aginings of Eril.and great depression of Spirits. The sufferer from ;hese diseases should ntmiu the greatest caution in the seleetion of a remedy for his case, purchases: onlv that whi.h he ia sured from his ines ligations and inqniries possesses true merit, v- is skilfully eompoand ed, is free from injurious ingredidents, and has established for itself a rcpatation for the cure of these diseases. In this eonnnection we would submit those well-known remedies Jloojtaitd't German, Bitter, and Hoofiand's German Tonir, jirrpared Ay Dr. C. M. Jackson, Philadrlfhia, Pa. Twenty-two yesrs since thev were first Intra duccd into this eountry from Germany, during wnicn time tney have undoubtedly performed more eoras, and benefitted suffering humanity to a greater extent, than any other remedies known to tha public. plaint. Jaundice. Dye pepsia.Chronio.er Ner vous Debility, Chron io Diarrhoea, Disease ef the Kidneys, and all Diseases arising irom a ttis- ordered Liver, Stomach, or Intestine. DEBILITY. Resulting from any cause whatever; prostration of the syttem. induced Dy severe labor, hardships, exposure, fevers, ete. There is no medicine extant equal to these rem edies in such cases. A tone and vigor is imparted to the whole system, the appetite ia atrengtbed, food is enjoyed. the stomaeh digests promptly.the blood is purified, the complexion becomes sound and healthy, the yellow linge ia eradicated from the eves, abloom iajrivea to the cheeks, and tha wek and nervous invalid becomes a strong aad healthy being. PERSONS ADVANCED IN LIF, And feeling tbe hand of time weighing heavily upon them, with all its attendant ills. will find in the use of this BITTKKS. or the TONIC, an elixer that will instil new Ufa into their veins, restore in a measure the energy and ardor of mure youth ful days, build up their shrunken forms, and five health and happiness to their remaining years; NOTICE. It is a well established fact that folly one-half of the female portion of oar population are sel dom In the enjoyment or good health; er, le use their own exprea sion, '-neverfeel well." They are languid, devoid of all energy, extreme ly nervous, and have no appetite. To thia class of persons the BITTLKS, or the TOM C, is espe cially recommended. WEAK AND DELICATE CHILDREN Are made strong by the use of either of these remedies. They will cure every ease ef MARAS MUS, without fail. Thousands of certificates bare accumulated in the bands of the proprietor, but space will allow of the publication of but a few. Tboae.it will be observed, aft men of note and of such standing that they must believed. TES TIMONIA LS. Hon.. Grgrsre W:. Woodvratd, Chief Juitire bj the Supreme Vntrt of Penn'a, tcntee : . Philadelphia. March IS, 1817. "I find -Hoofland's German Bittera' is a gcod tonic, oeful in diseaaee of th diges tive organs, and of great benefit ia cases ef de bility, and want of nervous action ia the svstem. Yours truly, OEO. W WOODWARD." Hon James Thompson, Judge of the Supremi Court Of Penrttjf'vania : Philadelphia, April 3d. 1S6S. "I consider-Hoofland'aUerman Bitters' aewis abte medicine in case if artacka ot Indigestion or Dyspepsia. I can certify thia frea my experi ence of it. Yours, with respect. JAMES THOMPSON. From Rev. Joseph H. Kennard. D. X).. Pastor of the Tenth Baptist Church. Philadelphia. Dr. Jarl-son Dear Sir: I have been free; neat ly requested to connect my name with recommen dations ef different kinds bf medicines, bat re garding th pracliee as eat of ay appropriate sphere, I have in all easea dee) iced; bal with a clear proof in various instances and particularly in my own family, ef tbe usefulness of Dr. Hoofland's German Bitters. I depart for once from my usual course, to express my ull conviction that, for general dehilitp of th stat, and especially for Liver Complaint, iIm oaf and vatuehle preparation. In some eaaee k may fail, but usually, I doubt not, it will be very ben eficial to those wbo suffer from the above aaasef. Yours, very respectfully, J. H. KENNARD,8th.kel Castas at. F,om ReV. E. i. Fendall, Assistant Editor Christian Chronicle, Philadelphia). I have derived decided benefit from srae as? Uooflands German Bitters, and feel it suy piirll ege to recommend them as a most valaable trte, to all who are suffering from general debility ei from diseases arising from deraagesaeal f the liver. Tours truly, I J. Fla'DALL. CAUTION. Hoofland's German Remedies areeeaev1lBl See that the sign-Here of C. M JACKPON ts ea the wrspper of each bottle. All Urn aaa counterfeit Prinei pal OfiWeaas Maaah tory at tbe German Medicine Store.Se. Ml ARCB Street, Philadelphia. Pa- CHAKLES M. EVANS, Proprieta. Formerly C. M. JACKSOI A Ca. Hoofland's Genaaa Bitters, rat belt), ( Hoofland's Qermaa Bitters, half desea,' a M Hooflaad'e German Tea io. pat apis smart betrlee 1 59 per bottle, er half dosea ferV i. tJT Do aot forget to exemiao well th artiol yon buy , in order to get th genain. For sale by A. I. 811 AW Agent CTeaileld Fa. Apr" , I8R-ly 1' t 1 t n , 1
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers