i r -
if
vv:
5 !
v; :
BOLSI.GER &, IICTCniXSOX,
I WOULD RATIIER BE RIGHT THAN PRESIDENT. IIenry Clat.
1'iuusucns.
flu!.
YOL. 1.
ALLEGHANIAN" DIRECTORY.
LIST OF IOST OFFICES.
Post Ojfices. Post Matters. Districts.
Benns Creek, Joseph Graham, Yoder.
Bethel Station, Joseph S Mardis, Blacklick.
Carrolltown, Benjamin Wirtner, Carroll.
Vhess Spring?, Danl. Litzinger, Chest.
C'resson, John J. Troxell, Washint'n.
Ebensburg. M. U. M'Cague, Ebensburg.
i'allen Timber, Isaac Thompson, White.
Gallitzin, J. M. Christy, Gallitzin.
tilen Council, Joseph Gill, Chc9t.
Hemlock, Win. M'Gough, Washt'n.
Johnstown, H. A. Boggs, Johnst'wn.
Lorctto, Wm. Gwinn, Loretto.
Mineral Point, E. Wissinger, Conem'gh.
M inster, A. Durbin, Muneter.
Pershing, Francis Clement, Conem'gh.
I'latHville, Andrew J. Ferra! Susqhan.
Rowland, G. Bowman, White.
'St. Augustine, Joseph Moyer, Clearfield.
Scalp Level, George Conrad, Richland.
Soum.in, B. M'Colgan, Washt'n.
Sum!nrhill, Wm. Murray, Croyle.
Summit, Miss M. Gillespie Washt'n.
Wilraore, Andrew Beck, S'mnierhill.
CIU llCIICS, MIXISTERS, &.C.
Presbyterian Rkv. I). Harbison, pastor.
Preaching every Sabbath morning at 10J
o'clock, and iu the evening at 2 o'clock. Sab
bath School at 1 o'clock, V. M. Prayer meet
ing every Thursday evening at 6 o'clock.
Methodist Episcopal Church Rkv. J. Shane,
Preacher in charge. Rev J. M. Smith, As
istant. Preaching every Sabbath, alternately
tit If o'clock in the morning, or 7 in the
jtrccing. Sabbath School at 9 o'clock, A. M.
IPrayer meetinir everv Thursday eveniuer at 7
clock.
Welch Indcnendent Rev. Li. Ti. Pnwrn.
Pastor. Preaching every Sabbath morning at
iIO u'clock. and in tli evpnirifr nt n'rhwl-
ISabbath School at 1 o'clock, I'. M. Prayer
liaeetmg on tne nrst .Monday evening of each
r.ioiuli ; and on every Tuesday, Thursday
Jhnd Fridav evening, ereentirifr the first wppV-
i: , " ., ' O
a eacn moiuii.
CtUinistie Methodist Rev. John Williams.
'astor. Preaching every Sabbath evening at
and ij o clock. Sabbath School at 10 o'clock,
A. M. Prayer mcctiuir everv Fridav eveniner
i o nock, society every l uesday evening
W- " o'clock.
ag every Sabbath morning at 10 o'clock.
t'artieular JSiptists utv. DAVID JENKINS,
'astor. Preaching every Sabbath evening at
o clock. Sabbath School at 1 o'clock, P. M.
Catholic Rkv. M. J. Mitchell, Pastor.
srvicea everv Sabbath mornincr at lOi o'clock
jaJ Vespers at 4 o'clock in the evening.
EBE.VSnillG 31 AILS.
MAILS ARRIVE.
J.strn. daily, at 12 o'clock, A. M.
"tern, " at 12 " A. M.
! MAILS CLOSE.
tt"rn. dailv. at 61 o'clock. A. M.
e.-nern, " at 6 " A. M.
D5w The MaiU from ButlerJndiana.Strongs
n. Ac, arrive on Tuesday" and Friday of
arh week, at 5 o'clock, P. M.
Leave hbensburg on Mondays and Thurs-
kv-8, at 7 o'clock, A. M.
The Mails from Newman's Mills, Car-
lltown, tc, arrive on Monday and Friday of
ach week, at 3 o'clock, P. M.
Leave Ebensburg on Tuesdays and Satur
ivs, at 7 o'clock, A. M.
S Post Office open on Sundays from 9
10 o'clock, A. M.
it 4ii.ro a i schedule:.
WILMORE STATION.
West Express Train, leaves at 9.45 A. M.
-M ul Train, " 8.43 P. M.
fast Express Train, " 8.24 P. M.
.Mail Train, " 10.00 A. M.
Fast Line, " 6.30 A. M
COl'XTT OFFICERS.
JuJye of the Courts. President. Hon. Geo.
ylor, Huntingdon ; Associates, GeorgeW.
asley, Richard Jones, Jr.
Prothonotary. Joseph M'Donald.
Clerk to Proihonotary. Robert A. M'Cov.
Register and Recorder. Michael Hasson.'
Jteputy Register and Recorder. John Scan
in." SWif. Robert P. Linton.
Deputy Sheriff. George C. K. Zahm.
District Attorney. Philip S. Noon.
Luunfu Commissioners. John Bearer, Abel
o.vi, I)avid T. Storm.
Clerk to Comntim nlw. Ocorce C. K. Zahm.
Counsel to Cowiv Janers. John S. Rhey.
treasurer. deorge J. Rodgrrs.
Poor House Directors. William Palmer,
vii O Harro, Michael M'Guire.
3 oor House Treasurer. George C. K. Zahm.
Poor House Steward. James J. Kaylor.
Mercantile Appraiser. Thomas M'Connell.
Auditors. rRees J. Lloyd, Daniel Cobaugh,
ary Hawk.
County Surveyor. Henry Scanlan.
Coroner. Peter Dougherty.
SuDe.rintendent of ft.
i - -j w..raV UV'VW W -
1 Corniick.
RC$RURG HOR. OFFirrRjii.
Justires of the Pence. David IT nnv.-.
orison Kinkead. '
vurgess. Andrew Lewis.
Totcn Council. -Andrew Lewis. Jnclmn n
Parish, David Lewis, Richard Jones, Jr., m
rr.
Clerk to Council. 3 antes C. Noon.
"''rough Treasurer. George Gurley.
n'y Masters. Davis h Lloyd.
"ehool Dirrtr,m 1 C XT V' 1 1
Ffker, Thomas M. Jones, Reese S. Lloyd,
r-ru i.jass, uiiam Davis.
treasurer of School Hoard.-. Evan Morgan.
""tbU. George Gurley.
r""4"- Richard T. Davis.
r'l,tf f'f Mertion.Tiatul J. Jone.
.... i'i ii
Kober., Daniel O
EBENSBURG, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 18G0.
SELECT POETRY
Tlie Old-Scliool-IIouse.
BT PARK BENJAMIN.
On the village gretn it stood.
And a tree was at the door,
Whose shadow, broad and good,
Reached far along the floor
Of the school-room, when the sun
Put on his crimson vest,
And, his daily labor done,
Like a monarch sunk to rest.
How the threshold-wood was worn !
How the lintel-post decaj-ed !
By the tread at eve and morn
Of the feet that o'er it strayed
By the pressure of the crowd
Within the portal small
By the ivy's emerald shroud
That wrapped and darkened all.
That school-house dim and old
How many years have flown
Since in its little fold
My name was kindly known !
How different it seems
From what it used to be,
When, gay as morning dreams,
We played around the tree !
How we watched the lengthening ray
Through the dusty window-panel
How we longed to be away
And at sport upon the plain
To leave the weary books
And the master's careful eye,
For the flowers and for the brooks,
And the cool and open sky.
Alas 1 where now are they
My early comrades dear ?
Departed far away,
And I alone am here !
Some are in distant climes,
And some in churchyard cold
Yet it told of happy times,
That school-house dim and old !
INTERESTING TALE.
Jly Merry Wtllc Wife.
I cannot remember the time when I was
not in love with Kitty l'leasanton. It must
have been when we were babies. I am
sure I loved her as we sat together by the
road-side, soaking our dandelion steins in
the little puddles of water to make them
curl. My passion was in nowise abated,
when, somewhat later, I climbed cherry
trees at her bidding ; nor, later yet, when
at dancing-school, I awkwardly made my
newly-learnt bow, and asked her to be my
partner; nor, I am sure, was my boyish
passion at all damped, when, on my return
1'rom college, I found my sweet little Kitty
changed, by some undefinable alteration,
from a lovely child to a bewitching young
woman. She was almost the same as when
I parted from her three years before the
woman was like the child; there were the
rosy cheeks, the same pouting, innocent
mouth, the same curling hair, but some
charm, grace, or sentiment was added,
which made my heart thrill with new
emotion as I gazed at her.
"Kitty," said I to her one day, after I
had been home a week or two, and I found
I could restrain myself no longer, "Kitty,
I'm very much in love with you, as you
know as well as I do. I hare always been
iu love with you, and I fancy you are iu
love with rue; but now I want you to
promise to marry me." I paused, but
Kitty made no answer, and I said, "You
like me, don't you, Kitty V
"First tell me," said Kitty, blushing,
and with an odd mixture of delight and
bashfulnesa in her face, "if you have made
me what is called an offer '("
"To be sure I have, my darling," I re
plied "an offer which 1 trust and hope
you'll accept."
"Don't be too sure of that," said Kitty.
"Kitty, do you love me ?" I exclaimed.
"That's my secret," replied the provok
ing little thing. "IJut, at any rate," she
continued, "I could not think of accepting
the very first offer I ever received ; I
should be mortified all the rest of my life
if I did. No, indeed! no girl of spirit
would dream of accepting her first offer,
as if she were afraid she should uever have
another. Excuse me, James, I can't pos
sibly accept you till I've had at least one
offer."'
"But, my dearest Kitty," I began.
"Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!" she exclaimed.
"Mr. Urant treats me with proper courtesy,
giving me my proper name, Katherine;
but now you've gone and spoiled it all."
"Oh, I Buppose you wanted a stiff, cer
emonious proposal in form," I observed;
"but I am no Sir Christopher Grandison,
Kitty Katherine, I would say ; therefore
don't be foolish ; be content to know, in
plain terms, that my whole heart is yours;
and have the good sense to accept your
first offer, since your second may not be so.
good."
But in vain were my arguments and
reasoning. Kitty was determined not to
accept her first oiler; and finding her reso
lute, I changed my tone, and acquiescing
in her views, confessed, that after all, I
too had a certain pride on that point, and
should be rather mortified to know that
my wife had never had an offer but that I
had myself made her ; and so I promised
to suspend my suit till Kitty should be
so fortunate as to receive an offer from
some other quarter.
Now, not far from where Kitty dwelt,
there was a favorite dell, or bower, or
something of that kind, to which she
daily repaired with some chosen volume
to sit and read. All my endeavors to per
suade her to allow me to accompany her
thither had alwaj-s been in vain. Kitty
was firm in preferring her undisturbed
solitude, and I was daily doomed to an
hour or two of the mope3 during her wood
land visit.
In pursuance of this custom, Kitty set
out soon after the conversation I have
sketched, declining, as usual, my offer of
companionship.
Not more than half an hour had elapsed
after she had reached her favorite seat,
ere her attention was attracted by a young
gentleman who was fishing in the brook
which flowed near by. Kitty drew back
a little on seeing him, but her curious eye
occasionally wandered towards the stran
ger. The latter no sooner perceived her
fair observer than he bowed with an air
of great politeness, and advancing a few
steps, ventured to address a few words of
common-place greeting to her. The young
man's words were indeed common-place,
but his eyes were more eloquent than his
tongue ; they plainly informed the fair
Kitty that she had found a new admirer.
Kitty, highly flattered, received the stran
ger's advances graciously, and the youth
being by no means bashful, half an hour
found them chatting easily and gayly on
various topics of interest. Kitty's stay in
the woods was something longer than usual
that afternoon.
"What is the matter, Kitty?" I asked,
on meeting her soon after her return home.
"Your ejes sparkle, and you look as pleased
as though you had met a fairy in your
afternoou ramble."
"It is better than a fairy," cried Kitty,
breathlessly ; "it's a 3roung man."
"Indeed !" I ejaculated with a whistle.
"Yes, James," she replied, "and he is
so handsome so agreeable so delight
ful, that I can't say how things might go
if he were to make me, some of these days,
my second offer."
"You can't impose on me in that kind
of way, sweet Kitty, so don't attempt it,"
I exclaimed. "I'll be bound the impudent
fellow, whom I won't object to speaking a
bit of my mind to, is not handsomer or
more agreeable than myself."
Kitty laughed aloud in derision. "ITe's
a thousand times handsomer than you
are," she cried scornfully, "and as much
more entertaining as he is more hand
some." "Come, Kitty, don't be too cutting, too
cruel," I began ; but Kitty drew herself
up with dignity.
"They call me Katharine who speak to
me, sir" she said.
"Katharine, fiddlesticks!" I ezclaimed.
"Kitty is the sweetest and prettiest name
in the world, and comes most natural to
me don't bother me with your Kather-
yp
ines.
"I dare say you may like it," said Kit
ty, pouting, half angrily. "But I don't.
It's too free. How would you like if I
persisted in calling you Jim ? I declare
I'll call you Jim, if you go on calling me
Kitty."
"Do so, if . you like," and it will soon
seem to me like the sweetest music in the
world. But may I presume to beg from
my fair and gracious Lady Katherine a
description of this wood-Adonis she has
been encountering?"
"He's tall," began Kitty.
"Taller than I ?" I interrupted.
"By at least half a foot, and of an ele
gant figure," she continued with marked
emphasis. "He was dressed in a graceful
fishing-costume."
"I have an old fishing-blouse up stairs,"
I muttered, aside; "I think I'll get it out."
"The young man's manners were un
commonly easy and gentlemanly, and withal
perfectly respectful and deferential," con
tinued Kitty. "Having ascertained my
name, he never once forgot himself so far
as to abrcviate it; he contrasted himself
favorably in that respect with some of my
friends."
"Well Kitty," said I, "what other per
fections have your hero, or have you ex
hausted your list ?"
"Far from it." said Kitty, indignantly.
"He wears his hair parted down the mid
dle like a poet, or that charming Signor
i'OZZOlim in ine pari. 01 uie jujaruu .
"Or a Methodist parson," I observed. .
"And besides all that," continued Kitty,
"he has a moustache."
"A last best gilt," said I; "but, Kitty,
that perfection, I hope, will not be very
difficult of achievement. I'll begin to
morrow. Let me see tall handsome
agreeable good manners elegant man
ners, and a moustache ! On the whole,
Kitty, I think I'm not very much afraid
of my new rival."
"You have cause," Kitty replied, with
grave dignity.
The next day when Kitty reached her
little retreat, she found the stranger again
in its neighborhood. I must do the little
coquette the justice to say that she did
look startled, and indeed vexed, when she
saw him ; but perhaps thinking it too late
to retreat, she advanced timidly. The
youth met her with many apologies, and a
plausible pretense for his intrusion, which
she could not gainsay, while something
flattering in his manner made her blush-
ingly devine that the hope of seeing her
again had been the true cause of his re
appearance. Be that as it might, the
stranger, perhaps to give Kitty time to
recover her confidence, immediately saun
tered off in pursuit of his sport, and Kitty,
fancying that she had seen the last of her
new admirer, drew forth her book, and
reclining in a mossy corner, began to
read. he, however, had scarcely suc
ceeded in fixing her attention on it3 pages,
before the pertinacious stranger re-appeared,
and declaring that fishing was dull
work, and that the fish would not bite, he
composedly seated h'mself at Kitty's feet,
and begged to know the name of the book
she was reading.
"Tennyson's 'Princess,'" replied Kitty,
curtly.
The impurtablc stranger declared the
book a great favorite of his, and began to
talk so entertainingly of books and authors,
that Kitty, warmed by the subject, forgot
to be dignified, and an animated discourse
on favorite authors ensued. Afterwards
the young man begged the privilege of
reading a few admirable passages from the
book she held tn her hand ; and it so hap
pened that the passages he had selected
were the very ones Kitty loved best. He
read them well, too, and Kitty's bright
eyes sparkled with delight as she listened.
Turning last to the exquisitely concluding
interview between Ida and the young
prince, the stranger's voice became more
and more earnest, aud he read till the
coming words:
"Indeed I love thee ; come,
Yield th3"self up; my hopes and thine are one.
Accomplish thou my manhood aud thyself;
Lny thy sweet hands in miue and Irust to me."
lie suddenly fiung the book aside, ex
claiming, "What words! what words !
What would I not give for courage to
utter them to the being I love best ou
earth!" The stranger paused a moment,
and then broke lorth impetuously: "This
forced silence is all in vain ; the words I
would repress will come. In vain have I
striven to be prudent cautious to allow
you time not to startle you lovely, be
witching Miss Katherine you are jour
self the person of my secret adoration, to
whom I would say much if I dared ; and
thereupon the youth, rather melo-drama-tically,
fell on one knee, and forthwith
proceeded to make Kitty a very plain offer
of his hand.
Meanwhile Kitty had risen from her
seat, and recovering from her astonish
ment, she drew herself up with dignity,
and replied, "I hardly know, sir, what
you mean by your very strange words and
couduct. The liberty j-ou have taken
has made me very sensible of my own im
prudence in having allowed the advances
of a stranger so presuming an error I
shall be careful never to repeat." So say
ing, my proud Kitty turned from the
stranger with a distant bow, and walked
directly home.
I did not see Kitty till some time after
her return; perhaps she was recovering
her spirits iu her own room, for when 1
met her she was as full of mischief as ever.
"Well, James, why don't you ask me
about my adventures to-day ?" she inquir
ed. "Because," 1 replied, "I didn't suppose
you would be so imprudent as to get again
to-day where you would be like to encoun
ter the insolent puppy who presumed to
address you yesterday."
"I didn't in the least expect him to be
there," said Kitty blushing, and somewhat
confused, "but he was there.
"Of course," I replied gruffly. "Well,
was your Adonis as handsome and agree
able as ever ?"
"More so !" cried Kitty, recovering her
composure ; "he looked more Massaniello-
hke than ever in bis ushing-dress; and tor
entertainment, he first read me all the
finest part of Tennyson's lrincess and
then made a marriage proposal, and I don't
think any man could be expected to do
more in one afternoon."
"I should thiufc not, indeed," said I;
"pray what reply did you make to the
rascal? that you "had a friend at home
that would be happy to kick him well for
his insolence ?"
"Far from it," said Kitty ; "what my
reply was is my secret and his ; but for
you, my poor J ames, I'm sorry for you
it's all over with you and your offer."
"Why you good-for-nothing, little, de
ceitful puss cried I !" losing all patience,
"there never was a more arrant dissem
bler living. Behold how plain a tale shall
put j-ou down ! for lo I myself, disguis
ed merely by a little paint a fishing
blouse, a false moustache, and a change in
the arrangement of my hair, was in my
own person this elegant, handsome, and
agreeable stranger, whose praises you have
so lavishly sounded."
Poor Kitty was completely confounded.
"How could I have been so'stupid ?" she
murmured, "and the voice, too, which
sounded so familiar all the time !
"Yes, Kitty, j-ou're caught," said I ;
"and to punish you for attempting to palm
a wicked falsehood upon me, I shall im
pose a two-fold fine, rirst, you shall kiss
me ; and then fix our wedding day, which
must be very shortly, for I'm going to
Paris in a month, and you must go with
me."
Kitty gave a little scream and declared
that she could not think of submitting to
either of my penalties ; but iu vain she
ifruggled aud protested I had her in my
arms, and finding at last all her efforts to
release herself fruitless, her jests and
laughter suddenly changed to earnest ten
derness, and closing her arms, around me,
she said, "As you will, dear dearest
Jamie !"
"One month from to-day. then, my
own, sweet darling Kitty," I began.
"Katharine, then," I repeated, smiling
at her pernacity on this point, "one month
from to-morrow, my Katharine."
"You never put any adjectives before
Katharine, murmured Kitty, evasively,
hiding her blushing and pouting face.
"My own dear, gracious, winning, be
witching, most Kissable Katharine," said
I, "shall it be as I say !"
"If mamma chooses, whispered Kitty.
And so I persuaded the sweetest and pret
tiest girl in the country to accept her first
and only lover ; and though this day my
merry, little wife often complains that I
defrauded her by my tricks of her natural
womanly right of breaking two or three
hearts at least ere 6he made one man
supremely blest, still she generally con
cludes her reproaches in a manner most
flattering to my vanity, by declaring that
she had two offers after all, and that each
of them was worth a thousand common
ones.
Female Conversation.
An English writer declares the fact
that the women of our-day do not "con
verse," and then attributes it to the mul
tiplicity of studies and the evening con
finement to books and school companions.
He says :
"It should be as much a matter of
duty and of conscience to insist ou out
door exercise, and in door social recrea
tion, as upon any of the regular exercises
of the school-room. School studies should
be confined absolutely to school hours.
To allow them to encroach upon the la
ter hours of the day, and upon the grace
ful household duties, and recreations,
which either are, or ought to be, provided
for every girl at home; in other words, to
subordinate the home-training to school
training, or to intermit the former in fa
vor of the latter, is a most palpable and
ruiaous mistake. It is bad even in an
intellectual point of view.
"To say nothing of other disadvantages,
it deprives girls of the -best opportunities
they can ever have of learning that most
feminine, most beautiful, most useful of
all accomplishments the noble art of
conversation. For conversation is an art
as well as a gift. It is learned best by
familiar intercourse between young and
old, in the leisure unreserve of the even
iug social circle. But when young girls
are banished from this circle by the pres
sure of school tasks, talking only with
their school-mates till they "come out"
into society, but monopolized entirely by
young persons of their own age, they easily
learn to mistake chatter for conversation,
and "6mall talk" becomes for life their
only medium of exchange. Hence, with
all the intellectual training of the da)r,
there never was a greater dearth of intel
lectual conversation."
la A handsome young fellow in New
York, in great distress for want of money,
married last week a rich old woman of
seventy. He was no doubt miserable for
the want of money, and she for the want
of a husband ; and "misery makes strange
bedfellows."
t&m Reading matter on every page.
NO. 24.
WIT AND WISDOM.
Selections from the new book of the edi
tor of the "Louisville Journal," entitled
"Frenticeana." Price, $1,00. Derby k Jack
son, Publishers, 119 Nassau st.t New York.
t& A man who attempts to read all the
new publications, must often do as a flea
does skip.
I-The "Beaver Argus" records the
marriage of man only three feet high.
No wonder he wanted to get epliced.
J>'The editor of an Indiana paper
says, "more villainy is on foot." We
suppose the editor has lost his horse.
CSS- A party of our friends, last week,
chased a fox thirty-six hours. They ac
tually "ran the thing into the ground.
B-A Mr. J. Black declares for the
dissolution of the Union. Let him have
a traitor's reward :
'Hung be the hcaven3 with Black."
were considerably amused by
an account that we lately saw of a remark
able duel. There were six men upon the
ground and six misses.
Q-A father and son, Anthony and
Thomas Screw, escaped on the 25th ult,
from the Wetumpka jail. There are two
Screws loose.
& A Newbern paper says that Mrs.
Alice Day, of that city, was lately deliv
ered of four sturdy boys. We know not
what a Day may bring forth.
fi'S?" A Buffalo paper announces that
Dr. Brandreth has introduced a hill into
the Legislature. Is the editor sure he
minded his p's in the announcement?
B- The common opinion is that wo
should take good care of children at all
seasons of the year, but it is well enough
in winter to let them slide. " "
A Mr. Archer has been sent to th
Ohio penitentiary for marrying three
wives. "Insatiate Archer ! could not one
suffice ?"
Mrs. Charity Perkins, of New Or
leans, came near dying of poison a few
days ago. A sister of Charity was sus
pected of having administered the dose.
A Southern lady has abandoned
the Shaker establishment near Louisville,
to marry Mr. James Bean, aged seventy-,
five. She must be fond of dried beans.
pft,Mr. Henry A. Rhule says, in a
Mississippi paper, that "he has worked
zealously lor the administration,
let him turn and work against it.
vr
iOW
poor ltule that won't work both ways
J&SF" The editor of a western paper re
cently fancied himself "a live ox ;" hut
since our rough handling of him, he is
beginning to conclude that he is onlj
jerked beef.
A writer in a Virginia paper de
votes three columns to describing the
great Blue Ridge Tunnel. We hardly
know which is the greatest bore, the tun
nel or the description of it.
fitay-W. H. Ilooe, a postmaster in Vir
ginia. Publishes that tWO hundred dnllara
of the public funds are missidg from his
onice, ana ne asts, "who nas got the mon
ey ?" Possibly echo may answer Ilooe,
ttThe New York "Evening Post"
says a man "cannot be active and quies
cent at the same time." There m&j be
some doubt of that. Some fellows bustle
about terribly and yet lie still.
tgl. A. K. says that he expects to be
able iu a short time to pay everything
that he owes in this world. Aye, but
there's a heavy debt that he has got to
settle in the other world. There'll be the
devil to pay.
C3iMr. Z. Round, an old and -valued
friend of ours, was recently elected magis
trate in Wisconsin. That, we suppose, is
what our Wisconsin friends consider soui-
ring a. circle.
A Rocky Mountain correspondent
of the "New York Post." who VritM My
self "Henry E. Land," describes Oreron
.1 .
as ine most aeiigntlul country in the
world. Our citizen, if i
7 - vuvaijvj vau
go out there and see "how the Land lies."
B.S- I he Ohio river is getting lower
and lower every day. It has almost ceased
. &11 ii ...
to run. ah wno loot at it can at once
erceive that it exhibits very little speed,
but a great deal of bottom.
JfcaT" A lady in Montreal lately recov
ered S2,000 of aMaj. Breckford, for hug
ging and kissinsr her rather rouchlv. Sh
o o J
outfit to set a high Value on the money-
sue got it ny a t gnt squeeze.
Clue for Corns. If "a poor cripple
will take a lemon, cut a piece of it off,
then nick it, so as to let in the toe with
the corn, tne pulp next the corn, tie this
on at mgnt so mat 11 cannot move
will find the next morninsr thai
blunt knife, the corn will co
ETeat extent, lwo or three
of this will make "a root e
a
for life;" and we shall be gla
result.
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