IHTTCIIINSOX, Editor.
g. IHITCIIIXSOX, Publlslie
OLUME 8L
0
5!
V
)0
YTl Wtt KITTELL, Attorney at
1 iatp, Ebensburg, Pa.
'' oi 1S67.
liBAlJ-
TfJfiNLON, Attorney at Law,
uu Ebenaburg, Pa:
jrQftce opposite tbe Bank. " jan24
2 . ,
vypj M. KEADE, Attorney at
C ' Law, Ebensburg, Pa.
OrEce in Colonnade Row. . jan24
rpTriERNEY, Attorney at Law,
30
CD OtJ
I
,f
i
14
t
e
t
I
tyOce in Colonnade Row. jan24
QNSTON & SCANLAN, Attorneys
at Law, jjueuiuuif;,
Lr Office opposite tbe Court House.
rioHSSToa. jan24 J. s. scaslAs.
UUEL SINGLETON, Notary Pub
lic Ebensburer, Fa.
JLceeaHiga street, west of Foster's Ho-
1V
AJESCFASLY, Attorney at Law,
Carromon-n, Uimoria county, ra.
J. WATERS, Justice of the Peace
anil Scrivener.
L-Olce adjoining dwelling, on High st.,
;:burT, I'll- -
KINKEAD, Justice of the Peace
and Claim A cent.
fc-Office removed .o tbe office formerl.)
r' . . T I .-. n n T7 r- ii rr TTJnrTi ctrpft.
Surs", .Jan316ia
rjTsnOEMAKEK, Attorney at
Law, Ebensburg, Pa.
irticular attention paid to collections.
Office otic door east ot L.loya to. s
'3 UtoUoase. UQ-
3JUtL SINGLETON, Attorney at
Law. Ebensburg, Pa. Office on lligb
weft of Foster's Hotel.
il practice in tbe Court3 of Cambria and
nil'!? counties.
W-AttenJs also to the collection of claims
;dirj against the Government. janl
EOKGE W. O ATM AN, Attoruoy at
livr and Claim Agent, Ebensburg,
:r:a county, Ta.
Pensions, Back Pay and County, and
I'itary Cldini3a collected. Ileal Lstate
y.to. Look Accounts, Notes, Due Bills,
ire-its, &c, collected. Deeds, MortgA-
Jgreenients, Letters ot Attorney, isonds,
D?Auy written, and all legal business
;"y attended to. Pensions increased,
Equalized Bounty collected. jan24
G. WILSON, M. P., offers his scr-
is J'li -!ci!n and Surgeon, to
jUVtena of Ebensburg and surrounding
a At 7 .
iiTicj leer. nppcint?d Examining Sur
1. Lei prepared to examine all l'ension-
iiaJ applicants for Pensions who may
t services.
LTOiTice on High St., three Joor3 east of
church, in ofilec formerly occupied by
.ones, ilesiacace lmmediatejy ajjo.n-
'.".ce. jan24-3m
KES J. LLOYD,
' &.iceet3or cj 1?. 8. Uunn,
Dealer in
: DRUGS AXD MEDICINES, PAINTS,
'.LS. AM) DYE-STCFFS, PERFU.MK
?.Y AND FANCY ARTICLES, PURE
.wn pmvniP; Tm?
iPl'RPOrfES, PATENT MEDICINES, &c.
I Also :
iTvi ycte Papers,
Wtcils, Superior Ink,
J Au'l other articles kent
8
by Druggists generally.
yiar.s' -e??r,';ions carefully compounded.
-c-t oa A'in Street, opposite the Moun--r'-'c,
Ebensburg, Pa. jan24
The undersigned. Graduate of the Bal-
"eCol'ejni of Dental Surccrv. respectfully
' his prcfe2?ional services to the citizens
tnslurg. He has spared no means to
;iny acquaint himself with every im--tnt
in his art. To many years of per-
"perience, he has sought to add the
"ei experience of the highest authorities
1 Science. He simply asks that an
"tuiiity nay be given for hi3 work to
i its c-R-n praise.
.SAMUEL BELFORD, D. D. S.
Prof. C. A. Harris ; T. E. 3oni,
'JP.. Handy; A. A. Blandv.P. H. Aus-
Baltimore College.
,v'l be at Lbensburtr on the fourth
aJ of each month, to stay one wjek.
hOYD 5c CO., Hankers-.
9 I
pel
Ebexsbceo, Pa.
cecuritiea boucrl.t nn.l
L f acrt 'robiu. Collections made
U Pn,r PV,'lQU iQ U United States,
fa General liking UU3ineai. tniP,!1
:4, 1SU7.
M. LLOYD & CoTTto,,-
;,'! : t "" 'ai ciues, and Silver
h'-l for sale. Collection.. ..'.-.i- ....
itirtrn.t ' aDie on uemand,
h rates. T WitU 5ut.er
--ie.i on iioro; i.
Uan-
TP!l?' V"'- p- T- Caldwell, Ca.V
f fcl .NATIONAL BANK
e
lit.'
OF ALTOONA.
ERXMEXT AGENCY,
AED DEPOSITORY OF THE UNI-
5,
El
es
lt.U STATES.
AUr. rginia and Annie sts.,T6rth
"J A
ja:2En p.
Capit., Tp 5300,000 O0
APITA1.PAID I2J 150.000 00
rVj! terms E banking doners
Saea.ae t&mpa of a11 cenomina
iWa.rs on hand. .
' iihiaur30f StaP'. Percentage, in
;t'
AC
"Prds, 4 per cent. run?
Waiting.
An old man in an alms-house was asked what
he was doing ; he replied, "Waiting I"
Only waiting till the shadows
. . Are a little longer grown ;
Only waiting till the glimmer
Of the day's last beam is flown ;
Till the night of earth is faded
From the heart once full of day;
Till the stars of heaven are breaking .
Through the twilight soft and gray.
Only waiting till the reapers
Have the last sheaf gathered home,
For the summer-time is faded,
And the autumn winds have come.
Quickly, reapers I gather quickly . .
The last ripe houra of my heart,
For the bloom of life is withered,
And I hasten to depart.
Only waiting till the angels
Open wide the mystic gate, "
At whose feet I long have lingered,
"Weary, pocr, and desolate.
Even now I hear their footsteps,
And their voices far away
If they call me, I am waiting,
Only waiting to obey.
Only waiting till the shadows .
Are a little longer grown ;
Only waiting till the glimmer
Of the day's last beam i3 Sown j
Then from out the gathering darkness
Holy, deathless stars shall rise,
By whose light my soul shall gladly
Tread its pathway to the skies.
3VXVUi.c3.o'fi 0:kc3Lo.1.
It was a rather embarrassing thing to
do, but Charley May had done it well and
bravely, like a man. He was nothing
but a dark at eight hundred dollars a
year, nevertheless, he had boldly craved
audience of the portly old millionaire and
asked him for hid daughter, as ho might
havo asked lor the milliner girl around
the corner.
Mr. Bryant coolly wiped his pen and
laid it in the carved rack ; he then mo
ved back his chair a pace or two, looking
Charles May lull in the face as he did so,
with a curious, mocking light in his cold
blue eye.
"So you want to marry my daughter,
do you V
"I do, sir," said Charley.
Very handsome he looked as he stood
there, with the reddish brown hair throwu
back from his Equare, white forehead, the
hazel eyca clear and cor.Sdent, and the
perfectly cut lips a little apart. Some
how, ia the midst of his wrath and deri
sion, old Ttichard Bryant could not help
thinking that were he a girl of eighteen,
he might possibly have fallen iu loe
himselt with just such a youog man a3
Charles May.
ul3 there any ether little trifle I could
let you have V sneered tha caustio old
man "a block of houses, or a Broadway
lease oriso, or auy other small favor?"
"You are laughing at me, sir," said
Charley, coloring, yet speaking with a
certaiu quiet dignity. "I have asked you
a simple question j surely I have a right
to a frank answer."
"Then listen to me, young man," eaid
Richard Bryant, with abrupt sternness ;
"you are aspiring altogether too high
you can not have my daughter Maude.
Now, you have your answer go 1"
Charles May stood for a moment like
one upon whom a thunderbolt had fallen
with sudden and blighting power j then
he turned and walked quietly out of the
handsome Gothic library, where tbe blue
and gold circles of light from the oriel
windows quivered over the deep crimson
of the Wilton carpet, and the pure mar
bie faces of Pallus and Venu3 watched
him as he went.
"Maude, my little darling, what is the
matter?"
The red glow of the November sunset
could scarcely pierce the folds of r:iby
velvet that hung over the plate-glas win
dows, yet in the odorous twilight Mr.
Bryant saw his daughter with her face
hidden in tho satin sofa-tillows, and the
heavy, LiuisJi-blaok curls drooping low
over the carved rosewood.
"Tell me, little daughter, what troubles
you," whispered the merchant, bending
fondly over the girl. Maude had never
known a motherland there was a tender
ness in the old man's tones at that instant
that was almost maternal.
She looked up with a stain of fresh
tears on her crimson cheek.
"He has gone, papa he has gone and
left tnel"
"He! Who?"
"Charley May."
And Maude Bryant, who had spoken
all her life long to her father as if he had
been a loving mother, bid her face on the
kindly breast and cried afresh.
"v hew !""was the merchant's softly
breathed comment.
"I have been trying to convince her
how very absurd all this is," said Aunt
Eloise, a portly widow, in garnet silk and
carbuncle jewelry, who sat by, alternately
quoting truisms at her neice and snuffing
at a gold cassolette that hung at her
waist. .
"Maude," said. Mr. Bryant, gravely,
"do yon mean to tell me that you actually
care for that young anip of a clrk 7"
I WOULD RATHER BE RIGHT THAN PRESIDENT, Het Ciay.
EBENSBURG4 PA., THURSDAY, APRIL
Maude sat up Indignantly, with light
ning in her black cye9.
"Care for birn, papal 1 lofe bim 1"
"Very improper!" groaned Aunt ElrisB.
"Aunt, I wish you'd hold your tongue I"
sputtered Maude, growing prettier every
moment in her bright indignation. "I
do love him,' papa, with all my heart and
soul!"
Aunt Eloise uttered a hollow sigh, and
Mr. Bryant looked at his daughter with
a face that was halt troubled, half amused.
"My little lily-flower," he said, gently,
"all this sounds ' to me like a girl's ro
mance. Maude Bryant is scarcely fitted
to bathe wife of a young man like Charles
May."
"But why not, papa?' pleaded Maude,
piteously. "I love him, and I I think
he loves me."
Very probable," said Mr. Bryant,
smiling. "But did it never occur to you
how very unsuitable a wife you would
make to a man who has his own way to
win in the world?"
"No, papa," said Maude, eagerly, "I
can dust furniture, and I can make jelly
cake, and once 1 baked a cranberry tart."
"Most important qualification?, yet not
quite all-sufficient," said her father, with
the utmost gravity. "But just consider,
my dear; here, on tbe one hand, is a sala
ry of eipht hundred dollars a year, or
nine, we'll say. It's just possible that
out in Chicago, where he has gone, they
pay nine hundred dollars a year, and here,
on the other, U Miss Bryant, with her
little, white, useless hands, and her luxu
rious ideas, and her diamond, and her
silk dresses. Why, my child, I don't
suppose you know what calico means."
"Yes, indeed, papa," interrupted Maude,
earnestly. "I had a pink French calico,
once, with pink coral buttons that- were
three dollars each don't you remember ?"
liYou a poor man's wife," went on her
father, patting her little, fevered hand.
"Maude, it would be like taking cne of
the white japonicas out of the conservato
ry, and planting it on a bleak New Eng
land hill. What idea have you of tho
triah and sacrifices of life, my little, petted
child?" . .
"Papa!" sobbed the young girl, pas
sionately, "I am ready to endure any
ordeal to make any sacrifice.' What do
I care far diamonds and dresses ? Papa V'
she exclaimed, suddenly starting up with
an emphasis thai made Aunt Eloise drop
her gold eence bottle; "you rhirffc-me a
mere butterfly that cares for dress and
jewels only - Now listen to me. For one
year from this time for cne vear. mind
I pledge myseif to wear no silks or
jewels. Will you believe me at the year's
end?" ...
"I shall :hink you a very extraordinary
young lady, Maude, but excuse me, dar
ling I have no very strong faith in your
persistence."
"You will see," said Maude, shaking
her curls triumphantly. "And oh, papa
"Maude," said Mr. Bryant, with quiet
decision, "I have already answered you -my
decree admits of no appeal."
She would not. cry any more, th:3
haughty little girl he was too proud to
cry ; but she rose up and went away with
compressed lips and eyes whose glitter
was sadder far than tears.
"I won't be discouraged for all this,"
she thought. "I will show papa that I
am somethieg more than a doll."
"Maude, you are not going to Mrs.
Ilemmiugway's in that dress !"
Mrs. Harrington, buperb in wine-colored
velvet, with garnet blaaing round
her plump throat and at her wrists, stood
horrified as Maude came tripping down
stairs. -
"Why not, Aunt Eloise 1 I think the
dress is very neat." :
Mr. Bryant looked up from his evening
paper at the slender figure in white, float
ing muslin, with white roRes hanging in
among tbe blue-black curls that touched
her shoulders.
"I think so, too," he said, quietly. -
"Stuff and nonsense !" angrily exclaim
ed Aunt Eloise. "Richard Bryant's
daughter in white muslin, with paltry
roses in her hair ! You should have worn
pink satin and diamonds." . a
"I shall wear no more silks and jewels,
aunt," said the little lady, very decidedly.
"Now, Iiichard," said Mrs. Harrington,
turning to her brother, "are you going to
allow this? She will set half of New
York talking!"
"Maude shall do as she pleases," said
the mercnant, quietly, and Maude gave
him a bright, grateful glance as she flut
tered away like some snow-white bird.
- The next morning a small triangular
casket of amethyst velvet lay beside
Maude's plate at tho breakfast table. She
took it up with an inquiring look at her
father. . '
" Yoar birth-day, lay child," he eaid,
simply.
She opened the casket with a low ex
clamation of delight as her eye fell on the
white gleam of a magnificent pearl neck
lace. ; - ' , - .
"Oh, papa ! how splendid this is ?
Don't they look like drops of frozen moon
light 1 And I have always so longed for
pearls V
.M rs. Harrington looked complacently oni
"They will be the rery thing to wear
to-nigbt with your white silk dro."
My white silk dress 1" Maudo nanacrl
abruptly, while a deep crimson flash Etole
over her fair forehead. She rose and
Crept softly around to her father's side.
'Papa, I am very much obliged to you
but but I had 'rather not take the
pearls." j
i "Not take them, Maude ?" -
"No, papa you remember my resolu
tion." . . ,'
"Maude I" exclaimed Aunt Eloise, "you
will never be so absurd iLs to reJuse that
pearl necklace that a royal princess might
be proud to wear, just because of a little
wmm i '
'It is not a whim, Aunt Eloise.
And no amount of coaxing or bantering
could induce Maude Bryant to take the
pearls.
"Give me a bud from the conservatory,
paa," or a bit of a book, such as I used to
have wh.en I was a wee thing, . aud I'll
value it for your sake as long as I live;
but I cannot take the pearls."
So the merchant, with a curious mois
ture in his eyes, gave her a kiss and told
her "that would have to do."
: The weeks and months passed on, and
Maude, surrounded by temptation on ev
ery side, thought of Charley May and re
mained firm.
"Maude," said the old manj suddenly,
one day, "when did you last hear from
young May V
"Last hear from him, papa? Never
since the day he went away."
"Do you mean to tell me that you do
not correspond with him ?"
"You told me not to writa to him,
papa, and I have obeyed you."
"And he has never written V
"Never, sir."
.Then most probably he has forgotten
you?'
"No, papa I hnov) he has not forgot
ten me."
"You're a curious girl, Maude," said
the father, caressingly stroking down her
bright black curls. "Never mind, pet
wh$n your year of calico is over, I'll give
you a present that shall please you pas
sing well." -
"I don't want any present, papa," said
Maude, wistfully looking up into his face.
"Oh, papa, there is only one thing in the
world that I do want."
"And that, you know very well, you
cannot have," said the merchant, sturdily.
And, o the colloquy terminated.
"Oh, Aunt Eloise, what a magnificent
silk! Peal gold color, isn't it !"
" "Yes, I think it is rather handsome,"
said Mrs. Harrington, complacently. "I
ordered it imported myself. See it
shines like a ahectof gold in thegas-iiht."
" Who is it lor 7"
"You, to be sure, child for Oriana
Sykes' wedding reception."
Maude fhook her head demurelv.-
"Why, Maude, what will you wear?
You must have a new silk."
Maude caught l.er father's eye fixed
earnestly upon her. In an instant, her
resolution was taken.
"I shall wear calico. Aunt Eloise."
"Calico ! To Mrs. Sykes' wedding re
ception I"
"Why not, aunt?"
"You dare not thus defy society."
"Dare I not V
"That was all Maude said. The year
of the ordeal was up that night, and she
had stoctf bravely to her colors.
Mr. Bryant did not often attend parties,
but he went to Mrs. Sykes' that evening,
though without his daughter's knowledge,
and stood leaning against a door casing
watching the brilliant devotees of fashion
as they entered in throngs watching
them with an anxious eye.
Would Maude waver now ? Was her
will no stronger than that of five hundred
other women ? '
Presently she came, as lovely as ever,
the throng parting on either side as she
advanced up the room at the side of her
portly, vexed Aunt Harrington; What
waa the murmur that reached his ears?
"Pink calico I Calico Iimpossible !
Miss Bryant wear calico, indeed! Glace,
more likely, or moire antique ! Actually
calico! what a strange whim I But Maude
Bryant looks lovely in anything!"
Lovely she did look lovely in the soft
folds of the French calico, with her sweet
eye full of liquid light, and her cheek
glowing with soft scarlet.
Mr. Bryant drew a long sigh of relief,
and then ordered his carriage for "home."
It was late when Maude returned, but
nevertheless she took a peep into the
library to see if her father was still up.
"Papal"
"Come in, Maude. Do you know, pet,
your year of probation is up to-night ?"
"I don't call it probation, sir."
"Perhaps not. Well, do you remember
my promising you a present if you adhe
red to your odd notions?"
"Ye?, papa; but I told you I did not
want a present."
"You'll find it in the drawing-room,
child." - : '
"I won't take it, papa'
"Won't you. Suppose you just take a
look at it first."
And Maude went slowly up stairs, obe
dient to her father's gesture. -
"I will not take it, whatever it is," sho
thought, as she optned the door "for
my goodness J Charley May !'
. "Maude my own true Iotc I"
a"
4, 1867,
And Charlev'a bright hrnwn re wava
looking into hers Charley'3 chestnut
mustache was close against her cheek.
"What do you think about taking rnv
present now, Miss Maude?" demanded
Mr. Bryant, rubbing his hands gleefully.
"I've sent all the way to Chicago for it,
and I think you seem rather pleased with
it than otherwise. I tell you what, Char
ley May, you may imagine that you ha7e
been" working hatd for my daughter all
these months, but s7ie has not been idle.
Maude has well earned the happinas3 of
this hour."
And Mr. Bryant went down stairs to
explain it all to Aunt Eloise, who was
highly mystified as to the state of afiairs.
This was the solution of the enigma
that o puzzled the fashionable world a
few days subsequently, when they read
in the - papers that Maude Bryant had
married a no more distinguished person
than Charley May.
Tlie Trutti of History- ColTax
at Lincoln's Ileath-Ded.
A paragraph having been extenpively
published stating that the figure of Mr.
Colfax appears in Carpenter's picture of
President Lincoln's death as a substitute
for that of Mr. Johnson, although the
latter was and the former was not present,
the editor of the Utica Herald addressed
Mr. Colfax on the subject and received
the following reply :
"Washington, March 4, 1867.
"Dear Sir : I have been surprised
at the article going the rounds of the prcs3
to which you draw my attention, which
states that I was not at Mr. Lincoln's
death-bed. The facts were published
extensively at the time. I had a Ions
interview with President Lincoln on the
morning of that sad day, at which he
consented that Hon. W. A. Howard, of
Michigan, who had been waiting ia the
ante-room, should be present, and at which
Mr. Lincoln discussed at sotne length the
policy he inteuded to pursue in regard to
the rebel leaders. He closed this deeply
interesting conversation by urging mo to
accompany him to the theatre that night,
which I could not do, as I expected to
leave the city the next day to prepare for
my trip to California, and he then gave
rae a message to be delivered from him to
any miners I might see on my journey.
He insisted that I must return that even
ing, and see Mrs.. Lincoln and himself at
the parlor of the White Honse before
they went to tbo theatre, and before I
should go to the residences of two of the
Cabinet, with whom I was to have some
conversation that night. I did so, walked
with hiui to the door, and jut aa he was
stepping into tho carriage ho gave me his
last good bye cn earth, and his wishes for
a pleasant journey, adding in a sad and
weary tone, that 'he would , ba delighted
to accompany m, but that hi3 public
duties chained him down here.' He
turning from the other interviews to iny
lodgings, I heard, on Pennsylvania avenue,
of his assassiuation, about ten minutes
after the fatal shot was fired; I went
immediately to the White House, and
ihenco td tbe room where he was dying.
From that moment until 5 o'clock iu the
morning I was at his bedside. Mr.
Johnson was also present, coming In at
about 11 o'clock at night, and remaining
there some time. At 5 o'clock the Sur.
geon General slid that though the Presi
dent had been utterly unconscious during
the "ix or seven hours he had been there,
he thought he inijjrht not pxpirc till noon.
his strong constitution giving way so
slowly. Secretary M'Culioch.i'j company
with myself and others, left at that hour,
intending to return at about 8 o'clock,
but on the way back I learned that he had
died a few miuutes previously.
"As you desired all the facts, I give
them to you, though Very much pressed
for time, by multiplied duties incident to
the day. Yours, very truly,
"Sen uyj.sr Colfax'
An Incident at' Fort FJslier.
A person who was in Fort Fisher during
the bombardment, tells the following Story
in an English magazine : "Oh ! the agony
of despair to see ball and shell falling
harmless from those turrets of iron, or
rolling like pellets along the low decks,
while the gallant defender of Fort Fisher
were falling in sheaves within a fortifica
tion which would, four years before, have
defied the efforts of any navy 'a work,'
as Porter says, 'stronger than anything
Sebastapol could boast of One day a
happy shot from the fort cuccecded in
findiug its way into a weak spot of a two:
turreted monitor; a piece of iron evident
ly wa? turned up, and jammed the turret.
Hurrah ! one at least disabled, thought
the poor Confederates. By Jove ! see
two sailors quietly walk out, and set them
selves down, the one holding a chisel, the
other striking with a hammer. They
were cutting away the obstruction j and
so secure was the monitor against any
vital injury being inflicted on her, that
although silenced, she would not retire
from her position. A swarm of Southern
riflemen were thrown out to slay the bold
Federals ; but no one hit them, and they
worked On calmly, until General Whiting
generously interfered, and said 'such gal
lant fellows deserve to live; cease firing,
my lads, at them So the iron was cut
awy.'
IS2.00 IX ADTAXCE.
NUMBER XL
Tnc Sew iltsas !La-T.
Following 13 the law lately pased bj
the State Legislature regulating the jjrani.
ing ct licenses to eating. and drinking
houses : , r
A further supplement fo an acidrthsr
io reguiaie me granting of . hcen'bes td
hotels and eating houses, approved
March thirty-first, on6 thousand eight
hundred and fifty-six.
SEtrriofr i. Be it exacted by the SeH&ii
and House of Representativet of the' Com
monveolth of Fennaihania in General
AssemUt met, and it is hereby enacted by
the authority of the eatn.e, That when an
application is made to any Court of quarter
sessions of this Commonwealth, for licen;
ses to sell intoxicating drinks, it shall be
lawful for said court to heir petitions, iu
addition to that of the applicant, in favor
of, and remonstrances against the appli
cation for such license, and in all cases to
refuse the same whenever, in the opiuiou
of said court, having due regard to the
number and character of the petitioners
for and against such application, such
license is not necesary for the accommo
dation of the public and entertainment of
strangers and travelers, and upon sufficient
cause being shown, the said courts shall
have power to revoke any license granted
by them, and all laws inconsistent witH
this section are hereby repealed : Provided,
That the sureties in the bond, required of
the applicant for license shall be signed
to his petition.
Sec. 2. That replications for license to
keep an eating house, beer house or res
taurant authorizing the sale of domestia
wines, malt arid brewed liquors, shall
hereafter be made in the same manner
and to the same authority as application
for license to keep a hotel : redded,
That the regulation in relation to bed
room3 and beds shall not apply to appli-i
cants for an eating house, beer i;ouse and
restaurant license, and the tenth section
of the act of twentieth April, ona thouiiul
eight Hundred and fifty-eight, authorizing
county treasurers to grant an eating house
or retail brewery license, is hereby re
pealed. Sec. 3. No license to keep an eating
house, beer house or restaurant, undjr the
provisions cf the second section of this
act, shall be granted in any incorporated
city for a less sum than filty dollars, nor
elsewhere; for a less sum than twenty
dollar. .
Sec. 4. It any person, after the pasiage
of thu act, shall sell spirituous and vinous
liquors, domestic wine3, malt or brewed
liquors, without having obtained a license
authorizing him so to do, such person
shall, on conviction in the court of quarter
sessions, be fined, for the first offense, id
any sum not less than fifty, nor more thaa
two hundred dollars; and for the second,
or any subsequent offense, ?ch persou
shall be fined not less than one hundred
dollar?, andj in the discretion ci the said
court, be imprisoned in tLs county jsil
nut less than thirty du3s, nor more than
ninety days: Provided, That nothing in
this act shall be construed to repeal the
provisions.of the act of Assembly passed
March thirty-first, one thousand eight
hundred and fifty-six, relating to salesby
drusgists and apothecaries.
Sec. 5. That the provisions of the first
section of this act shall not apply to tho
city of Philadelphia or to the county of
Allegheny : Provided, That nothing in
this act shall authorize the crantino- of
licenses to hotel and inn keepers to
vend vinous, spirituous and malt liquors,
and to license beer houses, eating houses
end restaurants iu any locality where
licensing of hotel?, inns, beer houses,
eating houses, or restaurants is no pro
hibited by law.
A IVoblc Ungineeri
President Tuttle, of Wabash College,
In a lecrure on Heroe3 of the Locomo
tive," related the following incident:
"During the war, sn incident occurred
On the Pennsylvania Central, which was
related to me by an eye-witne.s. My in
formant Was with a regiment of soldiers
going from Pittsburg to Harrisburg in a
special train. Between Johnstown and.
Gallitzin, (Cambria county,) they were
delayed by a freight traiu off the track.
This they learned at one of the stations,'
and remained there Until they should be
informed that the track was clear. It
was in the night, and most ot the thous
and men on the train were asleep. Four
heavily loaded coal cars belonging to
train ahead had, by some accidcut, become
detached, and begun the descent of the
heavy grade at a speed which soon became,
terrible. The engineer of the special
train heard the rear of the descending
cars, and eurmised what wa3. the matter.
In an instant, he detached hi engine
from the train, and put on steam to meet
the runaway cars, and, if possible, break
their force and save his train. His loco
motive was a large freight, and ho had
moved several rods ahead when the coal
cars struck him like a thunderbolt and
crushed his engine back on the traiu.-
The engine was utterly demolished, and
many of his cars were crushed; but he
had so broken the force of the shock that
no lives were lost. The engineer' name
was Story. His grateful beneficiaiies pre
sented him with a service of silver."
T