Raftsman's journal. (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, November 04, 1868, Image 1

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VOL. 15.-NO. 10.
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
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
"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
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
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
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
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
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-
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
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
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. . -
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.
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
Those who hare neob faction tt,. I.;-..:
of the Bitters, si stated, will ase
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.
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.
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;
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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