ii
BY S. J. ROW.
CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 2, 1870.
VOL. 16. KO. 26.
I
Select g octnj.
WAITING.
On the shores of Time I linger,
Looking oat upon the sea.
Where the ships ere sailing outward,
From thii nether land end me.
Tbesemyiterioui ships are bearing.
Treasure out upon the main, '
That the heart baa loved and oherished,
And they come not baek again
Faith and hope spoak worda of comfort,
And the ships sail oat to see
Were it not for those good angels,
Tbatar.i cheering you and me.
Lift woald be a heavy bnrden,
And the shadow on the shore
Would for ever keep the snnligbt
Fn n the tool's half-open door
I will wait with resignation
My sbip is coming by and by
Trough the dirkness, outward sailing,
Underneath a Heavenly sky.
I shall find within the harbor t
Where the ships at anchor lay,
All my treasures that were taken
From this night-world into day.
"THE HOLLOW ASH."
A TALK OK ST. LEONARD S FOREST.
On the outskirts of St. Leonard's Forest,
not very tar from the fine old mansion ot
Uurtsmrmeeaux, there stood the ruins ot a
lonely cottase, in which, many years before
I .w it. had been enacted one of those trag
edies which prove that the poetry and pas
ion ot our Celtic and Norman forefathers
has not altogether died out from among the
sons of the soil.
The cottage, originally a woodman's, had
l-.n i?!ven to bis widow. vilio.wl.rii hpri'tis-
hand was knocked on the head by the deer
dealers, had pleaded hard for her fatherless
children. Now, Bill Clark had not borne
the lest of characters, and there were many
who did rot heskate to say that he came by
hi death in a squabble over the unlawfully
killed game, rather than, as the more char
i;able portion affirmed, in tryio;? to defend
the same. The squire heard both stories,
but being a merciful man one who never
expected perfeetion.and who meted out such
judgment a h hoped the Great Judge
would mete out when he stood before the
throne be avoided the question, and gave
tbe widow leave to live on in the cottage,
and gather as much wood as she required.
Moreover, many a dinner of broken victuals
from the big house found its way to the cot
tage. There was free schooling for the red
cheeked lads, who, with their pretty sister
Je.-iit, were great favorite- at the Hall, and
rr.any wi-re the exchanges of presents be
tween the ?q:iirc's children and those of the
wi.low at the U'ood cottage now a frock
Cuat now a squirrel or dormouse; and this
Went on until the children became young
nn-n aiid maidens, and Joe and Charley
Clarke were cnrulluu among the foresters.
They wrre line. si rapping young fellows, both
or t'ueiu, better educated and more refined
in ferling and appearance than most of their
class ; they were good workmen, affectionate
sons and biothers, and firstrate at all those
ra-tic sports which, in those days found
more favor in the land than, I am sorry to
hay, they do now sports which were held
upon the smooth lawu before the Hall, and
where the squire's sons were ready to wres
tle, or run, or leap, with the best man there,
and, in spite of their "gentility" and softer
bringing up, there were few could beat them.
The "games" being open to all comers,
and the foresters being renowned for their
strength, pluck and agility, the gatherings
upon the squire's lawn were famons far and
near, and great was the merry making the
annua! meeting brought about. Never
greater had the anticipations been than up
on the occasion our story treats of. Strangers
flocked in, and amongst them came ouc'wbose
handsome faco and stately figure belied the
keeper's dress in which he was clad. Hav
ing entered hi in wit as Hugh Lockche took
his part in the sports, and both in runiong,
wrestling, and throwing the hammr,he car
ried off the chief prizes of the day. More
than one pair of eyes followed his movements
with anirry jealousy, which, in gome caes,
was increased when it was remarked that
whenever he was not competing for a priae
lie was by Jessie Clarke's side, and with his
head l"nt down, a ad an eager, passionate
lock in his face, was speaking so low that
the words only reached the ear and heart
thi'y were intended for.
Wh.jn the prize were :.H won and given,
tlie squire- turned to the stranger, saying :
"You are fairly entitled, as champion, to
chiose the fairest lass present for your part
ner in the danec ; so, call out the fiddlers,
my men, and bring the black jack, that we
may drink Mr. Hugh Locke's health, and
lime may he have strength and health to
rival the lads of the forest." . -
1 tie t nt was drank, and three cheers
given lor the champion, who seemed to find
no difficulty in choosing a part ner.but march
ing straight up to Jessie.held out his hand,
boaiiit! low before her, with courtly grace.
The people cheered again, and clapped their
hands, and the Hall party looked well pleas
ed, ah i;h was more than Jessie's brothers
did ; they glowered savagely at their sister,
as potting her little brown ' hand into the
champion's, whieh Joe remarked was very
white for that ot' a working man), she suf
fered him to lead her to the head of the
dance, whispering as he went :
"I would it were a partner for life, sweet
heart ; I"ve neither had peace nor rest since
that day when you left me by the hollow
ash. But do not betray me ; I've risked
more than I dura tell you, to have your lit
tle hand in mine again."
There was no time for talking during the
dance, but there was many a stolen glance,
many a silent hand press ; and when the
music ceased Hugh managed to lead Jessie
behind a clump ot laurels, where with the
gleaming light coming through the green
leaves, it was nearly dark ; there he slipped
his arm round her waist, and pressed his lips
to hers.
"I love you, Jessie, more than anything
on earth," he whispered.smoothiogher soft
brown hair, and trying to make the happy,
downcast eyes look up again into his own.
"I cannot live without your love, and yet I
must go away from here to-night. Promise
to meet, me to-morrow night, and I'll tell
you a plan I've made which will let me see
yoa every moment of the twenty-four hours ;
promise Jessie."
What could the girl dj but promise?
Wasn't his arm round her? Wasn't his
hand keeping down, as it were, t4ie wild
throbbing of her full heart? Wasn't his j
kiss, the first kiss,still tingling upon her lips?
"That is all right, then," he said, when
the whispered promise was given. "I'll pay
my ditty to the squire, and go my way. God
keep you, my sweet wild flower." This time
Jessie's lips half rose to inoet his. It was
so natural to kiss one she loved so passion
ately, and the poor little girl saw nothing
beyond the kiss a kiss which many a young
forester had tried to steal, and that, too, in
her mother' s.presence. It was too dark, she
thought, for any one to notice her flushed
face ; but here Jessie was wrong; Joe had
missed, and was jealously looking about for
her, when the champion brushed past him.
"I'd like to know who you are?" demand
ed Joe, angrily, "who came and "
"Hold your tongue, you fool," was the
answer, and Joe stared, literally startled into
submission, while Hugh, making his way up
to the place where the gentle folks sat, bow
ed before the .squire.
,-I have come, to offer my thanks, my
lorl," he said, "and to soy that, with your
lordship's permission, I will take my depar
ture, as I have a night's walk before me."
'Im sorry for it," said the squire, bluffly.
"I'd fain keep such feilows as you in this
parish. What say you, parson ? Pn't you
think such thews and sinews would be well
used in our work?"
The parson, a spare, sal looking man,
foiled gently, but eyeing the stranger with a
keen, unsatisfied look, ho said :
"Truly, my lord, if the heart is is good
as the body, it' would be well. Where do
you come from, friend ?"
"From MidJieshire, Sir Parson.'
"Were you ever here before? Your face
seems strangely ftmiliar."
"Yes, sir, I have been; bnt it is hardly
f lir to question a loan thus. Not that I
have any reason to care whether I say yes or
no ; whether I hang or walk."
"Then come here," quoth the squire,niore
earnestly, "and be one of my keepers ; there
is room for one.'
"Faith it is a tempting offer,", replied the
other with a merry laugh. "'What should
my wages be ?"
.As thc squire was going to speak one of
his daughters touched bis arm. and blushing
like a rose whispered something iu his car.
He seemed loth at first to believe, then sud
denly convinced cried out:
"No ! by the Lord Harry I it is so I Faith
I believe the girl's right ; trust a woman's
eyes. Well, young sir, but, hullo !
where his he gone? What has become of
our champion ?"
"Ho hurried away while Miss Beatrice
was speaking," said the parson dryly.
The squire looked vexed, albeit he langh
ed, and parried the feeling questions thrown
out by the parson, nor did he mention the
matter again until he and his daughter stood
J together in one of the bay windows of the
drawing room after supper, when he began:
"How did you recognise the earl, Trix?"
"I danced with him at the Yeomanry
Ball, papa."
"Only once and you pretend to rerneuv
ber him so well?" ' , .
"No, pata, twice; nay, I almost think it
Was three times," confessed Miss Trix, blush
ing crimson, while her father looked grave.
bull, I don t see wbat is to mate him
come masquerading here ; why cannot he
come and see us like an honest man ?"
And that night, when the squire and "his
good wife were laid side by side, they talked
the whole matter over, and were not alto
gether pleased ; for although the young earl
had money enough, and was one of the hand
simest men iu the king's service, people
told sad stories of his morals, and on the
whole, the mother decided that he was not
the sort of husband to seek for her daugh
ter, and that Trix should pay a visit forth
with to an aunt in Scotland. But the good
folks might have spared themselves some
anxiety, and bad better left the girl at home,
to forget, amongst familiar scenes, the soft
vt'iec and tender eyes that had awakened
her maiden heart. The sight of her pretty
face had been a surprise to the disguised
carl a surprise by no means welcome for
he had no mind to be discovered, or have
any obstacle pnt in the way of his love-ma
king. He had met Jessie in the forest, and
the meeting was somewhat singular. The
earl had been hunting. A lost shoe had re
sulted in losing sight of his comrades, and,
lastly losing hw way, so he was wandering
along, staring helplessly about, when he
caught sight ot Jessie, perched upon a bank,
watching him through the drooping branch
es of a hazel tree. The earl had an eye for
beauty at all times, and in all things, espe
cially where the gentler sex was represented
so checking his horse, he lifted his cap, and
with a laughing face said:
"Verily, I shall believe that St. Leonard's
is a forest of enchantment, for here am I,' a
forlorn and lost wanderer, saved by a queen
of beauty. Will it please your highness to
show me the way out of the wilderness ?
Nay," he added, as Jessie shrank back rath
er than advanced, and dropping her hand
let a branch fall between herself and the
earl, "Nay, if you will not descend to me,-1
must for dear life's sake ascend to thee."
And springing up the bank, he caught
ho'd of her hand. ' '. '
"Flesh and blood is it I Veritable though
of the brownest ; and veritable blood, warm
enough and red enough to make one forget
what blue is wanting. Ten times better
than a fairy, this, and who are you sweet
heart? and how far am I from the grosser
world? Not that I care much so long as I
have your sweet company."
Jeie looked perplexed; she did not un
derstand such high flown language, and was
half inclined to think the wonderful knight,
who is said to have flain the dragon of the
forest, had come to life again ; but then
he was dressed like a fine gentleman the saw
about the Squire's, and his hand that was
human, there was no doubt of that ; gradu
ally she began to see how it was, and con
sented to show him the way out of the for
est. ,
During their walk, which, though a pret
ty long one, was all too short to please the
earl. Jessie learnt that her companion was
a poor gentleman, a soldier, and obliged to
conceal himself at present. She learnt, too,
that he was fond of riding in the forest, and
that he would not be less fond of it now he
might meet her. For her part she told him
where she lived, and the story of her fath
er's, death, and haviig led him to what was
called "The Hollow Ash," a great weather-
beaten haunted monarch of the forest, she
pointed out the pathway, and stood there
watching as he rode away, turning from
time to time to wave farewell.
Jessie had not seen him again until the
day of the "games," and yet there was
not a day that he was not in her thoughts;
day after day she' had gone to the "Ash"
and sat there fluttering and shaking at
every sound; sat there teaching her
heart what love must be, and dreaming,
as only the innocent and loving can do, of
the bright days to come dreams, hopes, and
visions whieh seemed all on the point of re
alization, when he told her that he had
made a plan by whieh he would see her ev
ery moment of the twenty-four hours. Jes
sie could only pee one answer to mis, ana
that answer made her heart sink in the very
fullness of happiucss, and chased the warm
blood from her cheek, leaving her what some
of our poets have described so exquisitly as
"passion pale." What a long day that was
after the games. Jessie could not rest ; she
tvanr'.ered about, tied and untied her hat
strings, gathered bunch after bunch of wild
roses, and, as they withered, threw them
away for fresher, until at lant the sun began
to put on the golden glory of evening, and a
purple and gold canopy was spread round
his departed pathway; then Jessie tripped
down the forest path, and reaching the ash
tree, 6at down upon its gnarled and fantas
tic roots to wait and watch. Not very long.
however, down the valley road her lover,
and poor little Jessie was happy. This
meeting was followed by many another.
Summer came and waned ; and the "Hoi
low Ash was still the trystingtree."
Christmas was drawing near, when one
night, as they stood by the "tree," he told
her the time had come when he must leave
her and travel into a different part of the
country, where his regiment then lay J not
alone, however. He had no mind to leave
Jessie behind ; and Jessie, poor child, had
long had no mind but his. So it was ar
ranged that they should meet the next
night, and that she should go away with
him.
The ground was already covered with
snow, and great feathery flakes began to
float down while they were speaking.
"You'll not lose your way. darling, "-aid
Jessie's lover, as he held her in his arms at
parting. "I cannot rest content in letting
you go alone." '
"No, no, Hugh, you must not come ; Joe
may be home, and he watches me day and
night. I know every inch of the way."
So they parted ; and Jessie, holding her
shawl tightly over her head, ran down the
path. Suddenly the sound of a, gun-shot
came muffled through the snow. Jessie
started ; the poachers were at work again
she thought, and Joe would, if at home, be
on the lookout; so leaving the direct path,
she turned into another, which brought her
round to the back of the cottage, and find
ing the door unlocked, and her mother sit
ting fast asleep by the kitchen Cre, she got
safely into her bedroom. .
The appointed time came at last, and
Jessie left her home ; there were no tears
then but a hot flush on either cheek, and a
wild dilated look in her eyes that told of
mortal grief, if not despair,
More suow had fallen ; not a footprint
had marked the smooth white pathway:
and all untrodden was the ground beside
the ash tree. '
It was a perfectly still night; not a move
ment iu the forest, not a sound to be heard,
and Jessie shuddered as the rising moon
threw the great weird-looking shadows of
the leafless trees aeross the road she was
watching so anxiously. : An hour.at least,
passed, and still he did not come ; strange
fears and horrible suspicions began to cross
the girl's brain. Ilad he played her false,
and left her to her shame? Had something
happened to him? Had Joe-met him?
She remembered her brother's looks that
day, and a sickening dread fell upon her
she could not rest after that, but walked up
and dowu with a quick, passionate step, try
ing, to keep down the agony at . her heart.
Then she thought she heard a sound among
the trees, and turning, peered into the
shadow below the fir trees ; as ghe did so, a
gleam ot moonlight shot through the
branches and fell upon a heap of snow.look
ing as if it had piled itself over a log. There
was nothing unusual in that, there were
logs enough in the forest ; and yet Jessie's
eyes rivited themselves upon the spot, and
the ftverish flush faded out of her face, as,
inch by inch, she crept nearer. She stoop
ed over the mound, down lower and lower,
near the dark red Btain which marked the
pure covering ; with a gasp, rather thn a
cry, she fell upon her knees and swept the
snow away. -
From the instant the moonbeam shadow
ed forth the spot. she knew what she should
find there, and her brain had been erasing
as she crept on. There hs lay, the lover to
whom she had given her heart and soul
rjlaeid and beautiful, the long hair filled
with snow, the lips parted with a soft smile,
and through the broad chest a gaping gun- j
shot wound. -
"What are youdoing here?" said a harsh
voice, and Joe Clarke shook his sister rough
ly. "Po you want to help roe bury your
fine lover? We'll see how he li come steal
ing the poor man's children again."
Jessie did not stir; so Joe lifted her up
ami made her lean against the ash tree.
"There," he said, "stand there while I fin
ish my work ; or stop, take off your shawl
and make a winding sheet of it."
A gleam came across the girl's face. She
sprang forward, and tearing off her shawl,
spread it out, and when Joe laid the body
nu it, she began arranging the soft folds,
stopping every now and then to kiss the
marblclike lips, and whisper in the deaf ear.
When Joe had the grave rcady,she push
ed hi m away from the body with a tierce
cry, and lilting it, tottered foreward, laying
it tenderly in the brown earth.
"Fill it wiih snow first," she whispered
hoarsely, beginning to push it in with both
hands, and Joe, who was just a little fright
ened by her, obeyed, all the more readily
that the wind howling far off in the valley,
and the big snow flakes wheeling about, pre
saged a coining tempest.
liut long before the grave was filled, the
storm was upon them, crashing through the
trees, shaking down the snow from the
branches.and blinding the pathway on eith
er side.
"Come home now," said Joe, tak
ing Jessie by the shoulder, but thin time
fently, and without looking in her face;
"come. But before we leave the place I'll
tell you why I'vo made myself a murderer
why I've put a rope round ny neck. It
was because you were my sister because I
was proud of you because I knew he could
not marry you, and that he would neither
leave you, nor make you an honest woman.
I was in the "Hollow Ash" last night, and
heard all you settled, and I shot him before
you were well out of sight ; I shot him for
your sake and to save you from shame."
Jessie stared with stony eyes, very ter
rible in their struggle for reason. Sudden
ly she seemed to understand him, and a
crimson flush spread over her face.
"He was taking me away to spare you
the shame," she said.
A Horrible OJth broke from Joe's lips as,
turning her round to the moonlight, he
looked into her face ; as he did so, his own
convulsed, and . throwing her violently from
him, he walked on, the tears rolling down
his white cheeks.
Meekly Jessie followed, nd when they
reached the house, stole meekly up to her
bedroom. Joo went into the kitchen and
told his mother the story from first to last.
as far as he knew it It was difficult to say
which trial was the hardest lor tbe poor
broken-hearted mother, the mad daughter
up stairs hiding her shame, or the son mark
ed with the brand of Cain.
When it was known that Jestie Clark was
ill, many a kiudly message and gift came to
the cottage, and many a kindly neighbor
would have come and sat with the sick girl :
but to all the mother brought the.same an
swer: "Jessie could see no one." Death
came mercifully, and while the country was
ringing with the disappearance of the young
Earl of Carrisbroke, Jessie passed away,
and hid her sorrow and shame in the grave.
No clue was discovered to the murder,
and no suspicion attached to the wurderer;
but after Jessie's death the widow Clark and
her sons emigrated to America, and some
how the cottage got a bad name, and being
said to be hauted by Jessie's ghost, fell into
Years after, a winter storm laid low the
"Hollow Ash," andthe gigantic roots torn
from their bed brought the young earl's
skeleton to light, fulfilling the old adage
that "murder will out."
A little boy five years of age, while wri.h
ing under the tortures of the ague, was told
by his mother to rise up and take a powder
she had prepared for him. "Powder ! pow;
der!" said, he, rising upon his. elbow, and
putting on a roguish smile, "mother,! ain't
a grinl" ' ' v- r
"Mamma, what are panniers?" "Bas
kets worn on the backs of donkeys, my
dear." "Then mamma, Sarah must be a
donkey; for she told Jane she would wear
a pannier next Sunday !"
An Irishman on being told to grease the
wagon, returned in an hour afterwards and
said, "I've greased every part of the wagon
but them sticks the wheels hang on."" ' 'j
Generosity is the wealthiest feeling of the
heart Feel as if you could, and you will
have nearly all the self -satisfaction that you
would have had if you really relieved distress.
A Long Walk- . ' '
In 1732, Thomas Penn contracted with
Teedyuscuing and some others for a title to
all the land in Pennsylvania to be taken off
by a parallel of latitude from1 any point as
far as the best of three men could walk in
a day, between sunrise and sunset, from a
certain chestnut tree, at or near Bristol, in
a northwest direction. Care was taken to
select the most capable for such a walk.
The choice fell on J ames Yates, a native ot
Bucks county, a tall, slim man of much a
gility and speed of foot ; Solomon Jen
nings, a Yankee, remarkably stout and
strong; Edward Marshall, a native of
Bucks county, a noted hunter, chain car
rier, &.C., a large, heavy set, and strong
boned matn
The day (one of the longest in the year)
was appointed and the champions notified.
The people collected at what they thought
the first twenty miles of the Durham road, to
see them pass. First came Yates, stepping
as light as a feather, accompanied by T.
1 enn and attendants on horseback. Alter
him, but out of sight, came Jennings with
a strong steady step ; and not far behind,
Edward Marshall, apparently careless, swing
ing a hatchet in his hand, and eating a
lry biscuit. Bets ran in favor of Yates.
Marshall took biscuit to support bis stom
ach, and carried a hatchet to swing in his
hands alternately, that the action in his
arms should balance that iu his legs, as he
was fully determined to beat the others, or
die in the attempt He said he firf-t saw
Yates in descending Durham Creek, and
gained on him. There he saw lates sitting
on a log, very tired ; presently he fell off
and gave up the walk. Marshall kept on,
and before he reached the Lehigh, overtook
and passed Jennings waded the river at
Bethlehem hurried on faster and faster by
where Nazareth stands, to the Wind Gapl
That was as far as the path had been mark
ed tor them to walk on, and there was a
collection of people waiting to see if. any of
the three would reach it by sunset . He
ouly halted for the surveyor to give him a
pocket compass, aud started again. Three
Indian runners were sent after him to see
if he walked it fair, and how far he went
He then passed to the right of the Pocono
Mountain, the Indians finding it difficult to
keep him in siht, till he reached 'Still
Water ; at.d he would have gone a few miles
further but for the water. There he mark
1 a tren.witnesKRil bv the three Indians.
The distance he walked between sun and
sun. r.ot being on a straight line, and about
thirty miles of it through woods, was esti
mated to be from one hundred and ten to
one hundred and twenty miles. He thus
won the great prize, which was five hun
dred pounds in money, and five hundred
acre3 of land anywhere iu the purcha-e.
James Yates, who led the way for the
first thirty mites or more, was quite blind
when taken out of Durham Creek, and liv
ed but three days afterwards. .Solomon
Jennings survived but J few years. Ed
ward Marshall lived and died on marshal! s
Island in the Delaware River. He arrived
at about ninety years ot age. lie was a
great hunter, aud it is said he discovered a
rich mine of silver which rendered him and
his family connections affluent : but he nev
er disclosed where it was, and it continues
unknown to this day, .
- . . -
Why Do Wk OilOuh Whetstonf ?
We oil our whetstones for several reasons.
The first is that almost all stones, unless
oiled, become glazed or burnished on the
sin face, so that they no longer abrade the
metal.c The second reason is that most
stones, after being oiled, give a finer edge
than they do in a dry or merely wet state.
The pores of the stone become in a measure
filled up, and while the action is rendered
continous, its character is altered. A dry
stone is very apt to give a wire edge to a
tool, and although this sometimes happens
when oil is used, it does not occur nearly so
often. It has been said a little carbonic
acid dissolved in the water which is used to
moisten a whetstone or a grindstone will
greatly increase the friction, and thus pro
mote the action of the stone upon" the steel'
instrument If this be true, and there be no
unforseen drawbacks, carbonic acid will
prove invaluablo to all who have to sharpen
tools or grind metallic surfaces.
A poor Scotchman put a crown piece in
to "the plate" of an Edinburgh church, on
a late Sunday morning, by mistake, for a
penny, aud asked to have it baek, but was
refused. In once, in forever. "Aweel,
aweel,',' grunted he, "I'll get credit for it in
heaven." "Na, na," said the doorkeeper,
"ye'H get credit only for the penny that ye
meant to gie. " , ..-'....
Many a man who rises from poverty and
obscurity to wealth and honor, can trace his
rise to his civility. Civility will always re
produce itself in others, and the man who
is always polite will be sure to get at last as
much as he jrives. "No man," says Lord
Bacon, "will ho deficient in respect towards
others who knows the value of respect to
himself."
A firm faith is the best divinity ; a good
lite is the best philosophy ; a clear conscience
the best law ; honesty is the best policy ;
and temperance the best physic.
It woald be more obliging to say plainly,
we can not do what is desired, than amuse
people with false words, which often put
them upon false measures.
"Shooi fly! don't bodder me," is the
exclamation of debtors now-a-days, when
the collector comes buzzing around after
his stamps. .
Good Matured People. j
Be good natured if you can, for there Ui
no attraction so great no charm so admira
ble. A face that is full of expression of
amiability is always beautiful. It needs no
paint and no powder. ' Cosmetics are super
flous for it. Rouge cannot improve its
cheeks, nor lilywhhe mend its colwvWxion.
Its loveliness lies beyond all this. It is not
the beauty that is but skin keep. For when
you gaze into the face of a noble hearted
man or woman, it is not the shape of the
features you really see, nor yet the tint of
the cheek, the hue of the lip, or the bril
liance of the eye. You see the nameless
something that animates all these, and
leaves for your instinct a sense of grateful
faeination ; you see an indescribable embod
iment of heart-goedness within, which wins
your regard in spite of external appearance,
and defies all the critical rules of the esthet
ic. Cultivate good nature. It is better
than "apples of gold set in pictures ot sil
ver," for gold will take to itself wfngs and
fly away; silver will tarnish in time,and,botb,
when abundant, lose their comparative val
ue ; but good nature never, never loses its
worth never abandons its possessor to the
mental poverty of the malicious never
loses its hold on the esteem of the world.
It is always in fashion and always in season.
Everybody admires it. It never grows stale.
It ists little to acquire and nothing to keep.
Yet it is beyond diamonds in its worth to
its owners, and can neither e stolen or lost.
however neglected. -Surely this is a jewel
that merits a search ; and, when found,
merits a protection. Possess yourselves of
it, young women ; no talisman will find you
so bewitching iu the judgment of the sensi
ble among the other sex. Secure it young
men : you could have no better attraction
for a loving woman, and no safer guarantee
of domestic happiness.
He only is worthy of esteem that -knows
what is j.ust and honest and dares do it that
is master to his own passions and scorns to
be a slave to another's. Such a one, in the
lowest poverty, is a far better man, and
merits more respect than those .gay things
who owe all their greatness and reputation
to their rentals and revenues.
A committee met to settle upon the color
with which they should paint their new
church. An old sailor happened to b3 among
them, who rose and said: "Gentlemen, I
move main be painted a gum color, for you
all know that Deacon Smith's nose is painted
that color and that it has been growing
brighter every year."
Said a distinguished politician to his fnn:
"Look at me! I began as an alderman, and
here I am at the top of tbe tree; and what is
my reward ? Why, whe: I die my son will
be tbe greatest rascal in the Uuited States."
To this the young hopeful replied : "Yes,
dad, when you die, and not till then."
A man praising porter said it was so ex
cellent a beverage, that it always made him
fat.
"I have seen the time," said another
"whea it made you lean."
"When?" said the eulogist
- "Last night, againut the wall."
A little three year old girl in New Orleans
recently astonished her mother, who atcmp
ted to correct her, by motioning her away
with her chubby little hand and scornfully
saying "shoo, fly, don't; bodder me!"
"Father," Raid a lad, "I often read of
people being 'poor but honest ;' why don't
they sometimes say 'rich but honest?"
"Tut, tul, my son," replied the father;
"nobody would believe them."
I'll flog you for an hour, you little villain.
"Father," i list an fly replied the incorrigible
young scamp, as he balanced a penny on
his fingers, "I will toss you to make it two
hours or nothing."
A Isr.y lad, who did not go to church until
the congregation were coming out, asked:
"Is it all done?" "No,"was the reply, "it's
all said, but I think it will be some time before
it's all done."
omen charm as a general thing in pro
portion as they are good. A plain face with
a heart behind it is worth a world of heartless
beauty. Men who have tiied both uniformly
agree to this.
No man, whether rich or poor, can make
or retain a good and useful position in life,
without the two valuable habits of punctual
ity'and temperance.
Ike's last trick was to throw Mrs. Tarting
ton's kid gaiter in the alley and call the old
lady down from the third floor to see an
al!ey-g?iter. '
Precepts, says Billings, are like cold buek
wheat-slapjacks, nobody fcelslike being sassy
to them and nobody .wants to adopt them.
A man can live in Paris pretty well on ten
cents per day, or he can eat, drink and bo
merry to tbe tune of a hundred dollars
The moon seems the most nnstcady of all
the celestial luminaries; she is continually
shifting her quarters.
'You seem to walk more erect my friend.'
"Yes I have been straightened by circum
stances. '
Judy wants to know if chignons are not
hair-ein-scare-etn things.
Some body says that birch rods make
the best baby jumpers.
AW. WALTERS, ArroRSEr at Law
. Clearfield. Pa. Office tn the Court Bouse.
tA LTER BARRETT, Attorney at Law, Clear
) V field, Pa. May 13, 1H95.
ED WOK AH AM, Dealer in Dry-Goods, Groee
ries, Hardware, Queemware, Wooden ware,
Provisions, etc., Maraet Street. Clearfield. Pa.
D AVtD a. XtVLIXG , Peeler in Dry-Goods.
Ladies' Fancy Hoods. Hat and Caps. Boots,
ahues.eto . Second Street. Clearfield. Pa. eep25
ME.f
ERRELL A BIOLKK. Dealers in Hardware
nd manufacturers tt Tin and beet-iei
rare'. Second Street. Clearfield, Pa. June '66'.
I f F. SAliGLE. Watoh and Clock Mmker.and
Ll. dealer in Watches, Jewelry, Ae. .Room is
Graham's row. Market street. So
Iff.
HfTT'CrfER SWOOPE. Attorneyat Law.CIear
. field. Pa. OlEet iaGraham's Row,fourdoo
wtit of Oranam A Boy n ton's (tore. N6T.10...
JB M'
. Pa.
M EXALtr, Attorneyat Law, Clearfield
a. Practices in Clearfield and a'djoia-'nat
uMiiitfea. Ofkce in new brick building of J. tSoyn
t n, 2d streot, one door south of Leateh's Hotel.
I TEST, Attorney at Law. Clearfield. Pa., wilt
. attend promptly to all Legal business enfrfist'
ed to hisenre in Clearfield and adjoining coun
ties. Office on Market street. July 17, IS7.
WHOM A3 II. FORCEY. Dealer fa Sqnsre and
J Sawed Lumber. Dry-Goodx.Queenaware, Gro
ceries. Flour, drain. Feed, Kacon, Ac , Ac, G ra
il .itnton. Clearfield county. Pa. Oet IS.
JP. K R ATHER, Dealer in Dry-Goods. C"lotning,
. Hardware. Qacensware. Groceries. Previ
S'ons.ete . Market rltrert, nearly opposite the
Co art House, Cleat field, Pa. June. I8C3.
TT"'
II Medieines. Paints. Oils. Stationary, Perfume
ry . Fancy Goods, Notions, etc., etc.. Market street,
Clearfield, Fa Deo. 6, t8S.
(1 KRAT7.KR A SON, dealers in Dry Goads.
. Clothing, hardware. Qaeensware, Groce
ries, Provisions, Ac, Second Street Clesineld,
Pa. Dee 27.186a.
TolIN GVELICH. Manufacturer of all kinds ot
Cabinet-ware, Market street. Clearfield, P
He also makes to order Coffins, on short notice, and
attends fu-uerall with a hearse. Aprl0,'69.
RICHARD MOSSOP, Dealer fn Foreign and Do
mastic Dry Goods. Groceries. Flour. Bacofl,
Liquors. Ae. Room, on Market street, a few doors
west ot JonrntJOffier. Clearfield, Pa. Apr27.
"V7"LLACK A FIELDTNG, Attori" era 4tLaw
Clearfield. Pa. Office in res denee of W. A.
Wallace ' Legal business of all Kinds attended to
with promptness and fidelity. Jsn 5,'70 yp
w. a. w.w.icm. fnaSIt rfrxiusa
HW S.ViTII. A TTOit nr at Law. Clearfield
Pa., will attend promptly to business en
trusted to bis care. Office on second Boor of new
building adjoining County National BanK.and
nearly opposite the Court House. pKne 30, '6H,
M'CtTLLOCGH A KREBS. ATTiwEt-AT-LAW,
Clearfield, Pa. AH legal business prompt
ly attended to. Consultations in English or Ger
man. Oct. 27. lsMS.
T. J. u'crLtOCOH. D. I.. KHESS.
1 pREDERICKl LEltZINGER, Manufacturer of
i all kinds of Stone-ware. Clearfield, Pa. Or
der solicited wholesale or retail He alsokeept
on hand and for sale aa assortment of earthen
ware, of brs own manufacture. Jan. 1, 1863
. wi
T M. HOOVEil.Wholesale and Refer) Deafer la
1 . TOBACCO. CltiARS AND SNPt'F. A
large assortment of pipes, eigar capes. Ac, con
stantly on band. Two doors ast of the Poet
Cffice, Clearfield. Pa, May l.'6.
-IwruSTERJf HOTEL. Clearfield. Pa This
T f well known hotel, near tbe Court House, is
worthy the patronage of tbe public The table
will be supplied with the best in the market. Tbe
bestol liquors kept. m JOHN DOUGHERTY.
J OHN II. FULF"U1, Attorney at Law. Clear
field. Pa. Office on Market Street, over
Hartrwick A Irwin Urn? Store, l'rompt attention
tren to tbe rtecUrinirof Uoantj claims. &e.,and to
all legal business. March 27, IS67. -
A I THORN, M. l., Physician An
Srii:oN, having located at Kylertown,
Pa . offers his profcsional frrtieei to the eiti
sens ot that place and vicinity. Sep.J9 ly
ws.s. ARmoJO. : itmnuas.
ARMSTRONG A LINN. Attor uvk-at-Law,
Willlamsport, Lycoming County, Pa. All
legal business eutiuted to them will be carefully
and promptly attended to. (Aug 4,'S9-6m.
IT ALBERT, A BRO'S . Dealers in Dry Goods,
Y Groceries, Hardware. Vneens ware. Flour Ba
con, etc, Woodland. Clearfield county . Pa. Also -extensive
dealers in all kindsof sawed lumber .
shingles, and square timber. Orders solicited.
nooaissa, ra.,Aug. ivtb, 1003
DR J. P. BUROHFIELD Late Ssurgeon of tbe
83d Ucg't Penn'a Vols., having returned
from the ariuy, offers his professional services to
tbe eitiiens of Clearfield and vicinity. Profes
sional calls promptly attended to. Office aa
South-East corner of 3d and Market Street.
Get. 4. tai 6rop.
PURVEYOR. The undersigned offer.
his services to the public, as a Surveyor.
lie may be found at his residence in Lawienee
ro-rsship. when not engaged; or addressed by
letter at Clearfield, Penn'a.
March fith. isfi7.-tf. .JAMES MITCHELL.
TEFPKRSON L I T Z, M. D.,
Physician and Surgeon,
Hat-ins; located at Osceola. Pa., offers hit profes
sional services to the people of that place and sur
rounding country. All calls promptly attended
tn. Office and retdenceon Cortln ftreet, former
ly occupied by Dr. Kline. May IS,'9.
vJ.
K. ROT T, 0 R F'S
PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY,
HVRKKT STREET, CLKARrir.Ln, FENS.
Negatives made in cloudy as well as in clear
weather. Constantly en hand good assortment
of Frames. Stereoscopes and Stereoscopie Views.
Frames, from any style of moulding, made to
order. tdeo. 3 SS-jy. tt-a-ti. ,
rpilOMAS W. MOORK, Iaud Surveyor
and 1'onvcyancer. Having recently lo
cated In the "nrough of Lumber City, and resnm- :
sutned the practice of Land Surveying, respect
fully tenders his professional services to the own
ers and speculators in lands in Clearfield and ad
Joing counties Peedsof Conveyance neatly ex
ecuted, office and residence one door East of
Kirk A-Spencers Store -
Lumber City. April 14, 1369 I J.
7 A L L A C E
WALTERS.
Real Estate Aokxts aid Coxtbtascbrs,
- Clearfield, Ps
Real estate bought and sold, titles examined,
taxes paid, conveyances prepared, and insuran
ces taaen.
Office in new building, nearly opposite Court
House.
VI. A.
jan a isiv.
WALLACE.
. J. SLA KB WALTER.
COLDIKRS' BOUNTIES. A reccntbill
has passed both Houses of Congress.and
signed by the President, giving soldiers who en
listed prior to J2d July. 1SS1. served one year or
more and were honorably discharged, a bounty
of ln0.
"Bounties and Pensions collected by me for
thoseentitled to tkem. .
WALTER BABBETT.Att'y at Law.
Aug. lith. 1808. Clearfield, Pa-
D
RIED FRUIT, at reduced prices, at
May
MOSSOP'S.
fTMIIMBtiE-SKElJtS and Pfpe-boxee. tt-r Wag
X on ter sale by ME-RRILL A BI9LEJ,,
t'i-
IT