Bloomsburg democrat. (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1867-1869, March 18, 1868, Image 1

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TIME
VOL. XXXIL
K.
• MAT CLEARINO OVT SALE
TO ME ROOM ?OA TAB NOW 'IOWA BALI..
10 be eroded en ..: 'she t 011149 Of Me U & italktt MIL
T. SHARPLESS
Newbeirrafer UNA of Ready toy—
PRENeII SIBRINOES to hi ,g,
amok ALPACA* at Al mod Si tic
*UMBRIAN INEBINOII O at 40 eta.
VI(IBID POPLINS at 40 no. womb
ALL THE MOUTH how 10 to 00 pot tent. Mow
lito mina prier&
CALWORS hum* eta, to 1111 for WO.
1141121 , 11 1 A BROWN HURL 11111 to 119 de best.
111000 bleached and brown Molding at 121.
All wool Ceesimeree et $1,000.1,22 & 1115.
Hoop Rll fle, Comte. & ontlone low downl
HATS a CAPS at barghtne.
awe a 111101121 &r KO% Women.
Uhildren et greatly wowed Prices.
Um lot Hatters &
ladies'our ;holm at glen. worth
Vat One Int Olove•had lielinerals end
Ushers at PIS, worth 14.0 U,
CRAMS, Atm Sugars Syrup.
The Wince of nor flock comprising ill hinny of
HOOPS. CAIPIITO at proportionably low
Caesar, produce waned. Cask paid for butter and
cg a. Sews on Main Street below Market.
January
A SOLLEDEIt'S
„,
HOOT STI)RE,
(OPPOSITE THE SPIALIOPAL CIII:Rt711,1
On Main Street, Bloomsburg.
Tho sabemlber takes pleasure in announcing to
Oa people of Ittomneburg, and vicinity, that he has
al band a large and ant assortment of
BOOTS AND SHOES ,
fia
for ladles and gentlemen's wear, to suit all laiteles.
Hi. Oily work Is of the beat quality, and from tha
most reliable manufacturers; he being a practical
widow and a good Judge of
bl 5 TIZ A =ES arata
he is not likely to be Imposed upon by receiving
werthlees atateriall badly made up.
Those desiring anything to his line would do wall
to give him a call, before purchasing elsewhere. lie
stile a
GOOD ARTICLE,
and it prices to milt putchasers.
All persons wire denim light or heavy work made
to order can be accommodated at big o.tobliplimmit.
a Also, repoirlog will be done with neatness null
despatch.
An elegant sliairtmeat of Ladle, Spring and Sum
MU Shoes band. A. SULI.ELIEII.
April 3. IfSf.
J. BROW/21, (Con AU% Iron sto.)
itr •
Is now °faring to the Public hi. STOCK or.
SPRING GOODS
onsliting in part of a full line of
INGRAIN, WOOL & RAG CARPETS.
rine eiom■ and enalleerre for latiles' coats.
Handeome Drees GoodO of all Patterns and monlith•s.
Helaine and Print, of lirtirlOus qualities and prices,
Bleached and Brown Mullins, !Allies French Coreetv
and
BALMORAL SHIRTS.
Good ansuriment of Ladies and children,' Gaiters
and flouts.
Fmk Groceries and apices. Now aseortment of
Glass sad gsteasware.
am-No.l antler.% In one half and one frinttli Muriel A.
Now Is the time to make your selectione, aa I um
nearing goods at very low price. and IF molt i ie
fair dealing to all, and nut la be under,.l.l Is) any.
J. J. Ult9iVIA.
Bloomsburg, April 30, 18117.
PRESII ARRIVAL OF FAMILY
jil " GROCERIES, AT
JOHN K. GIRTON'S STOREY
INACIONEIBURi e *ANNA'
the otthealher hss fort mtorned frnm Ilw rn , tern
citlrs with a huge •nd choir's stork of iir*trio+~
Groceries and Dry-Goads,
which he offers to the citizens of oineenidiiire and
vicinity as tow ocean be had of any dealer in tats
section of the County.
His earl' consist, of the hest varieties of
CUPPEC,
81.16 Ct. TEA,
FIrSU (of flee quality.) 81.11;1;0.
DRIED Id ISATrI, (in their season,)
SWUM . A !ilf) (If II Cit CR ACK Elte.
SOAP &CANDLES Ate., ate., cIiELaC, ,
120A1, k LINSEED tiIL.S.
also a Oka usartntlßl of Dry floods and llorlasy.
and a fall variety of ``mutt of the above class. and
of other kinds. In addition to which he has recently
added tab's stock a fine assortment of
CEDAR WARN AND ••
WI LLOW W A RE ; •
inTwbich variety of Rends hr tins several ttear
articles of tilipdprn Invention, ...8.1.1.11,1v,11y used
when know,, and which isn't coats into use here
Ile also ham a fine supply of
French Moroccoes ;
and elan of !Women Limon (or tihneratkeer
wort ; and a nod assortment Id'
Queeusware.
0:7- Call and entrain°
3n9ti R.otirrov.
P. E. Comer of Main and INn %facets
Bleoratbarg. Nov. SO, 1007.
MEW BAKERY AND CuNFEC-
N TIONERY
OBasagatbllflc:sll:c:oaimal
ON TIIIIRD
BELOW MARKET,
BLOOMSIILUG, PA.
J. F. FOX, rrnprietor of this eguit i oihment. would
respectfully inform hie nte and new enstmenrs. IllSk
be has evarythtsi Stied Up at bid new eland to eft
iwn hint In furnish to with BREAD, CAlik:St,
AND CONFECTIONER( MS, e 1 heretnlo re.
IMl.iereafter all persons, who bare been furnish
elf WAS Ale, Life/ Beer, and I'nrtcr, by the whole.
halt, or quarter barrel, will rail upon WILLIAM
011414bNE, at Ws Saloon in
Slaves' Block, Main Street,
. 1 ,0 liirlaisen authorised by Ow undersigned to soil
tee lie will teastantly have a supply on hand.
i !tepid rattle lowest market r .tes.
al ~:
, In goners with his Oak y and tun.
tAt
04,00„, s, ~Alto ~,s rr the sale n,
!CE CREAM,
to oil win May favor him with their custom lie
• —.Ted - -mite ice Cream ht Panto quollii
• or omelet Rath' title. as the
pertaining to hid lino el
and dititootoWoratiou.
kirt, cuotonicre for 1141.4 t
JIIMAith n mitainuuneo of thy
J. F. PDX.
4.4E1: ~ • :i , , - ..,
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DEMOCRA.T
••...,,4,..,,,...:.•
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glloomoturg tittoulti.
PGULISITED EVERY WEDNESDAY IN
DLOOIDIEURGPA.I 1W
I
WILLIAMSON IL JACOBY.
simi,ell 00 In advance. If not paid within
IX MONTHS. 511 rents additional will be choirsvd.
(C7' Enneper dineontlnned until en animism
are paid except at the option of the editor.
RATES OP ADVERTISING.
71111 01111 alll7lllllll A 500A11.
One vinare HMI Of three Inicrllani
`015500
Ryer, subsequent inserlion lees than 11
arum I*. Its. 314. nit, IT.
One square, 1 9,40 3.00 4.00 tan 10.00
Two aquarea, 3.00 3.00 0,00 9,0 0 14.00
Three .. 3,00 7.00 11.30 10.e0 is,oo
rOuragnarea, 6.00 11,00 10,00 14,0 n 0000
11010 rolooinn, 10,00 l 19,00 14.0016.00 90.00
One colanon, 13,00 I 10.00 00,00 I 30,M1 00. 00
Illierutor'a and Almluletrator's Nonce. . .... • . .3.00
Auditor's Notice. .... . . .......... ........... . . „AM
Other alive Wee onents Inserted accordlus tu special
eon* reit.
110010004 notice,, without advertisement, twenty,
cart, per liaii.
Tranalent advertleenionts payable In adt Ince all
athlete due after the Pet insertion.
Printed in Slave's Illock Main Street by
Son falls through the gathering twilight
The rain Irma the dripping eaves,
And stirs with a tremulous rustle,
The dead and the dying leaves:
While here in the midst of the 141111(11M,
I hear the *cot voice of the bells
Conic born'on the wind of the autumn,
That fitfully rises and swells.
They call and they answer each other—
Tlel answer and mingle again—
And the deep and the shrill in an initLem,
Make harmony in their strain ;
As the voices of sentinels mingle
In the mountainous regions of snow,
Till from hill-top to hill-top a chorus
Flouts down to the valley below.
The shadows, the firelight of even,
The sound of the'rains distant chime,
Conic bringing, with rain softly dropping,
Sweet thoughts of a shadowy time;
The slumberous sense of seclusion,
From storm and intruders aloof,
We feel when we hear is the midnight,
Tho patter of min on the ruul
When the spirt goes fourth in its yearning
To take all its wanderers Lowe ;
Or, alter in regions of fancy,
Delights on sweet piniorm to loam,
I quietly sit by the fire-light—
The
tire-light Pr) bright and so warm—
Fur I know that those only who love me
Will see use through shadow and storm
And should they he absent this evening,
Should even the household depart—
Deserted, I should not be lonely;
There still would he guests in my heart.
The tae es of friends that I cherish,
The smile and the gismo and the tone,
Wiil haunt niu wherever 1 wander,
And thus I nut never alone.
Wiqt those who have left far Lubintl them
no,i 4 F; and sorrows of time—
Who mut; the sweet, sonr , of the angles
In a purer and holier dime ;
Thvn darkly, U evening of autumn,
Your rain and your shadows may fall ;
My loved and my lost ones you bring me—
My heart holds a feast with them
By the fall of the year 1793, the settle
ment known ns Carpenter's Station s ( located
a little distance above the mouth of Short
Creek, on the cast side of the Ohio River,
in what is now the State of West Virginia,
vas in nflourishing condition, and numbered
me thirty or forty families in its mule-
tion. One of these families is named
Johnson, and consisted of the father and
mother and several children. Of these
children, two were boys, named John and
Henry,;ohnson, and aged respectively thir-
teen and eleven years. Towards the dose
of the fall, the boys were sent one evening
to drive home the Crows. wl►ich bad wander•
ed off beyond the settlement. The season
was that delightful Indian summer time,
when the Ohio Valley puts on its richest
hues of beauty, and when the favcination
of its scenery is greater than at uy other
part of the year. The boys, young as they
were, were keenly alive to the beauty of the
scene, and moved,aleing briskly, but boylike,
when they had, reticle(' the foot et the bill
which bounded the "bottom" tliet. lay back
of the fort, they paused under a hickory -nut
tree, unable to *gist its fascination, and
(*tumoral lather the nuts and.orack
and Oat them: They sat down at the baso
of the tree,: and Unmindful that the sunset.
wag coming on and that the cows were still
undiscovered, they gave their whole atten
tion to their nuts. So you see, my dear
reader, pioneer boys were quite as apt to
attend to pleasure before business, as those
of the present day, end I am very much
inclined to believe that these two thought
more of squirrels and nuts than about the
cows and their parents. They happened to
look up at last, and John jumped to his feet
in confusion, and exclaimed :
“We'll catch it now, lien. Yonder comes
father and Uncle Joseph, and if they find us
here instead of looking fur the cows, they'll
make us smokO for it."
Henry looked in the direction indicated by
his brother, and saw two men approaching
them. The new-comers were dressed like
the settlers at the Station, and one of them
carried a bridle in his hand. The lioys com
menced looking about very busily, and call
ing the cows as loud as they could. In a
ing, nn M*ln Strut.
MORE,
.bur g and virinity al7l
few minutes the strangers came Ileac enough
for them to discover their real character,
and the little fellows to their horror and dis
may found that they were in the presence
of two largo Indians: They were terribly
frightened, and started to run away, but the
'wham leveled their guns at them, and
threatened to kill them if they did not come
hack• Trembling in every limb the boys
walked back slowly to their captors, expect
init every moment to be killed and scalped.
134 p aid
,ments.—
In Min
iJ Lent
ant.
oysit ft
Pirld i
a goo(
FRANK IL SNYDER.
The cued of the Heart.
TUE PIONEER BOSS.
BY JAMBS D. 11 . 0 ABE, JR
BLOOMSBURG, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 1868.
One of the Indians could converse Wer
e* well in English, and be told the boys
they would not harm them if they would
not run any. He said they were looking
for horses and , that the lads must go with
them. They started off and taking a cir
cuitous route over the Short Frock hills
continued their search after horses. Little
Henry was very much frightened, but his
brother John contrived to whisper to him
not to cry or show the Indians that he was
alarmed, and to lot him do the talking.—
John became very friendly with the Indians,
and seemed to be delighted at his capture.
He told them ho was glad they had taken
him prisoner, that his father was a hard
master, and kept him always at work, allow
ing him no time for play. lie did not like
such a life, but wanted to be free, and live
in the woods, and be a hunter. Ile hoped
they would take him to their tribe and make
a warrior of hitu. The Indians were sur
prised and delighted at this language from
a pale face, and the one who could speak
English told him they would make a great
brave out of him, and that by the time lie
was grown ho would have no white blood in
him, but would be altogether an Iditni.
He became very intimate with the lad during
their tramp, and give him a small bag to
carry. Thu bag was quite heavy and the
boy supposed it contained money.
About dusk the Indians halted at n spring
in a hollow place, about three miles from
the fort. They built a fire and cooked their
supper which they shared with their prison
ers. John Johnson made himself very mse
fill in building the fire, and getting water
for his captors, and received many grunts of
satin Bastion and approval. One of them
asked hint if he knew where there was any
horses running about in the woods, but the
boy, thiuking it best to tell the truth this
time, told them that the settlers were very
earl:fill, add kept their their hurts up all
the time, and that ho did not think they
would meet with much success in their
efforts. When night came, the Indians
covered up the fire, and pinioned the boys
and made them He down together, They
thou placed their lempis over them, and lay
down, one,on each side of them, on the ends
of the straps. They lay awake for a king
time, laughing. John, who was a lively
and sprightly fellow, entertained the savages
with many amusing stories which made them
laugh heartily. These stories ho told to the
Indian who could speak Eaelh, and that
one in his turn related theta to , compan
ion in his own language. Dour ilttki henry
Ie! nut spoken a word since hi c: pture,
and, thatghifient, he weLfa !4ata
ti,i Itgain,t his brother fur be
come au Indian, and kiog so lied' ;• with
them.
John Johnson, however was only carrying
out a plan which he had conceived inaue
diately after their capture. The lad bad
been born and brought up on the frontier,
where he had lived in the society of Indian
hunters all his life, and he was tolerably well
versed in the art of border warfnre, and was
possessed of an intelligence and a evarege
unusual in a boy so young. As soon as the
Indians had captured his brother mid him
self, ho had resolved to make his escape.
This was his meson for telling his brother to
say nothing and let him do all atlio talking,
and ho had spent all the afternoon in trying
to make friends with the savages and lull
their suspicions to rest. He knew that his
brother would not understand his motives
for acting as he did, but he could not tell
him without revealing everything, and
thus reviving their chance for escape.
After the savages tied hint and made him
tie down for the night his courage almost
departed from him. The Indians, as I have
said, bad placed their hoppis strap over the
boys, and were lying upon the ends of it
themselves, so that any attempt of the boys
to get up would, by movieg theetarp, awake
their captors. The situation seemed hope
less, but John determined to wait patiently
and see if something more favorable did not
hap Pen. Ile whispered softly to hie broth
er not to go to sleep, and after the Indian's
ceased talking, lay, ,silently (hinting over
the eseapcs of tbe various 'lndian-hun i ters
that he knew. • Hi remembered how Lrwis
Wetzel had several times regained his lib
erty in the face of even More formidable
obscurities, fbr the hunter had told him the
story himself lle believed that the Indians
had no fear of his trying to leave them, as
they had faith in the story he had told them,
but how he should get out of their power he
could not tell. Something ninst be done
that night. He knew the spot where they
were resting for the night, and could easily
find his way buck to the fort, but the next
day the Indians would strike across the
country towards their own people, and even
should they succeed in escaping during this
journey, there was a strong probability of
their being overhauled and retaken, or of
loosing their way and dying. of starvation, or
br wandering into a &inn of Indians. The
neceasity, therefore, for doing aomethinr
that night, if anything was to be done at all,
was imperative. The boy's mind was busy
with these thoughts, but be felt that it was
useless to make oven the slightest attempt
as long as the Indians were awake. The
suspense in which the little fellow was placed
was painful, and in spite of' the chilliness of
the night, the thick sweat stood heavy on
his forehead.
At last the heavy breathing of' the sava
ges convinced him that they were asleep.
lie could not move without waking them,
however, and his condition was made no bu
ng by their unconsciousness than it bad been
before.
The night was quite cool, and in about an
hour after the savages full asleep, one of
them becoming cold lifted John in his arms
and rolled him on the outside, and was soon
breathing hes* amis. This was just what
the lad wantelLlelThe Indian had put him
where he could move without disturbing the
others,• and had not only removed the grip
from him, but bad rolled off of it himeelf
Profiting by till., the boy slowly and cau
tiously rolled away firom his companions,
and commenced trying to undo the thongs
with which his hands were tied. Fortun
ately the Indians had not fastened him very
securely. He worked' slowly and softly, so
slowly indeed that it seemed that he would
never free himself. Every movement seemed
to his ezeited imagination more violent than
was prudent, and he dreaded lest the In
dians should suddenly 'wake and discover
him attempt to escape. In such a case, he
felt sure they would kill him. The time
wore away very slowly, but at length he suc
ceeded in removing his fetters, and rising
gently to his 113 et, he looked nmund to assure
himself that all was well. The huge forms
of the Indians were stretched out at full
length, and their heavy, regular breathing
showed him that they were sound asleep.
Another glance revealed to him the great,
round blue eyes of his little brother Henry,
watching his movements with the most in
tense eagerness. Ile placed his finger warn
ingly on his lips to caution the little fellow
not to make any sound that might alarm the
savages, and then stepping emulously to the
boy's side, he raised the strap softly, and
motioned to his Whor to get upon Lis fle.
The nstenislesl Henry did so, and hie broth
or led him softly a few paces awnw from the
sleepers, and commenced to untie his bands.
How their hearts beat, as they stood there
in the dark Vote's with danger and death so
near them ! The very sighing of the night
wind, the rustling of the leaves, and the
murmuring of' the waters of the little stream
by which they had encamped, made them
start and tremble with fear. The slieloost
sound might arouse their captors, and then,
post boys, home and a mother's face would
never gladden their eyes again.
At last Henry's hands were released, and
the boy, intent only upon getting o ff safe ;
whispered to his brother
Come now, brother John, let us run
home as fast as we enn."
John knew this would never do. henry
would be sure to arouse the Indians in at
tempting to run sway, and ho seized the lit
tle fellow, who had already turned to put
his propwal into exemriien, by the blmubier
firmly, and aid:piled to him:
" Don't run away yet, 1 fen. If you do,
you'll wake tlieltolians, as,
You mus:n't Air yet, for we must kill these
Indians berme we go."
Henry was afraid at first, for he was a very
little fellow, and only eleven years uld, and
the idea of killing one of the great, stalwart
savages that lay bleeping at his fi..a seemed
to him an utter impwsitility; but his broth-
LE told him that he must make the attempt,
and after some hesitation the little fellow
einem:tad to do
The plan upon which John had decided
would hare done credit to an old hunter, and
it is remarkable as coming from o boy so
young, inasmuch as it exhibits an' unusual
de,ree of originality, fertility of resource,
and determined courage. The lad was only
thirteen ye:.rs old, but had be been fifty he
could not have acted with greater coolness
and determintion. Stealing noiselessly up
to the Indians, be took one of their rifles,
which was loaded and primed, anti cocking
it, placed it on a log with the muzzle 'only
an inch or two from the head of one of the
Indians. lie then placed Henry at ti►e
breech or the weapon, and made him put
his finger on the trigger. Ho told him to
pull the trigger, and 'shoot the savage as
soon as he should strike the other.- Then
stepping back, he po.ssessed himself of the
Indian's toinahaWk, as ho found that, it
malaise impossible to remora the rifle with
out arousing Its owner. Ile grasped the
tothabawkfirmly; and then assuring himself
by a glance that his longer 'brother was
ready to co•operatd wich him, ho stepped
softly to the slet.pers, and Pined, himself
astride of one of thorn. They were still
coweious, the fatigue of their long march
on the previous day having thrown them in
profound slumber. The bey raised the tutu
alma k with both hands, and cotieentrating
all his energieS in the blow struck the sleeper
with it. The blow fell on the back of the
Indian's neck, and a little to the side, so as
not to be fatal. 'Half stw►ued, the savage
attempted to spring up and defend himself,
but John struck him again, this titue on the
head. Even this blow, though it cut through
the skull with a horrible crash, did not kill
the man, but the little fellow, rewlertal des.
perato by the gravity of his situation, struck
him E 0 first and so often, and with,auelt fatal
effect, that, as the lad afterwards expn i leued
it 'himself, "the Indian lay still, and begun ,
to quiver." In another moment, the huge
savage lay motionless at his feet, and having
satisfied himself that there was nothing more
to apprehend froui this ono, John turned to
see what disposition MS brother had made
of the other.
Little Henry had also done his pelt well.
As soon as ho saw his elder brother t.trike
the Indian with the tomahawk, lie pulled
the trigger and discharged the rifle. The
ball struck the sleeping savage iu the face,
and tore away a considerable portion of his
lower jaw. The Indian, a few ►numents aft.
for receiving the shot yelled in the , imolai
terrible manner. He was so completely,
startled by the suddenness of the attack
that ho did not for a moment attribute it to
his captives, and his wound was so terrible
as to utterly deprive him for the time of the
tenee,
fin Pow d oi n r o en r r red s
ydroppe d u t n h a sa
o ri soon
and u Ito had
horrid
over to where his brother was standing. All
this had tact) scarcely as much time as I
have consumed in telling it, and the boys at
once set oft' for the fort. They travelled
rapidly, and reached the ibrt a little after
daybreak. They were in constant dread all
the way that the Indian who had been shot,
and who theY know bad not been killed,
would pursue them and take vengeance on
them. As they approached the fort, they
found the settlers all awake and up, and in
the greatest alarm and distress concerning
them. Their mother Fetrrottmled by a group
of sympathizing, friends, was weeping bitterly
over their supposed unhappy fate.
"Poor little fellows," she sobbed, " they
arc killed or taken prisoners."
John's limit was is hi, throat, at the
sight of his mother's gri, and rushing to
her, he eriPd out eagerly :
"No, mother, we are here saf , and sound."
You may ho sure there Wai joy in the fart
over the return of the two lest ones. John
toll the story of their capture and escape,
hut it seemed to the settlers r►o utterly im
prel,able that two such children had killed
two Indian warriors that the story vra.4 not
believed. John then offered to guide a
party to the scene of the tragedy, and is
small detachment was sent out to ascertain
the truth of the boy's statement. They
reached the ramp, and fund there the dead
body of the Indian whom John had torus-
hawked, but the one Henry had shot, had
teenaged to crawl away and take his gun
and aufnetuitien with him. He could not
be found, but his skeleton and gun were
discovered some time afterwards. These
things confirmed the truth of the boys'
story, and they were after that the pride
and boast of the settlement.
The Indians who were killed, were great
warriors, an , l,very wealthy. The bag which
John had soon and carried on the previoui
evening, and which he supposed contained
money, was never found. It was believed
that one of' the men in the fort, upon hear
ing the boys' story, had started fir the spot
in advance of the party and secure the
money.
The Indians themselves did honor to the
bravery or the two boys. After their treaty
with General Wayne, a frivol of the In
dians who were killed asked a man from
Short Creek. what had become of the beya
who killed the two warriors? Upon being
told that they were residing at home with
their parent: , , lie expressed his surprise.
" said be, "you hare not done right ;
you should make king;4 of those boys.''
Old Time Winters.
In 16e4 the cold was so intense that the
Thames was covered with ice sixty-one in.
clics thick.. Alluost all the birds perished.
La 1691 the cold we so exeossive that the
famished wolves entered Vienna and attack
ed. beasts, and even men. Many people in
Gertnny were frozen to death in 105, and
the winters of IVA and 1699 were nearly as
bad.
In 1709 occurred that famous winter cal
led, by distinction, "the cold winter." All
the rivers and lakes were frozen, and even
the sea fur several miles from the shore.
The ground was frozen nine feet deep.
Birds :101411st:I were struck dead in the
fields, and men perished by thousands in
their houses. In the South of France the
wine plantations were almost all destroyed,
nor have they yet recovered from that fatal
disaster. The Adriatio: 4 ea was frozen, and
even the Mediterranean, about Genoa, and
the citron and orange groves suffered ex
tremely in the finest parts of Italy.
In Mr) the \tinter was VO intense that
pee,* traveled across the Straits Crum C o ,.
penbagen to the Province of Senia, in Swe
den."
In 1729 in SeetLind multitudes of cattle
and heep were buried alive in the t.new.
In 1; =lO the winter was ..%reely inferior to
that of 170. The'snow' lay ten feet deep
in Spain Aid Portugal. The Zviler Zee
was frozen over; and thotsands ~ f pople
went over it, And the lakes in England
oze.
In 1744 tllo winter '0744 vory cold. Snow
MI in Portugal to the depth of twenty-three
filet an a love!.
In 1764 and '55 the winter% were very
severe and cold. In England the ptroneect
ale, ox 2w41 to the air in a glev, was con•
erect in fifteen minutes with lee one eighth
of an inch thick.
In 1771 the late was frozen to the hot.
tow.
In 1776 thc Danube bore iee five, feet, be
low Vienna. Vast, numbers of the feather
ed anti finny tribes perished.
The winters of Mt and '145 were uncom
monly cold. The Little` Belt ra3 from
over.
a.Front 1800 to 1812, 4dno, the winters were
remarkably cold, Inwtienlerly tbe latter, in
111 u i;r, which proved no disesirons to the
Fieneh rainy.
Tiuz 800. 4.—We like the dog very much,
nowtmd then' he smells very unplcarandy to
be hare ; and he frequently amuses himself
in tearing articles of clothing. But, in the
main, he is quite valuable, and ho is often
ornamental, and it would never do to make
the noble brute extinct. 'Well—he costs the
United States every year fifty-two *How
of dollars. The U. S. Commissioner of
Agriculture gives his word for this. The
details of the calculation are, that there are
Eve millions of dogs in the country, that
eta of them commies ten dollars worth of
rolid, medicine and housing every year, and
that the fire millions kill between them two
millions worth of fat mutton,--Philadelphia
Un (verse.
Not Supported.
Withhold or withdraw the salaries now
paid to the educated workers in all our great ,
and benilloent enterprises and institutions
civil, military, educational, religious or san
itary, and the entire machinery now to effect•
lye for good would stop, because all these
workers would have to apply thotnselvel to
some industrial pursuit to obtain their daily
bread.
The Temperance enterprise in this coun
try, has nut now, and never bad adequate
funds to employ a sufficient number of ed
ucated and competent laborers, therefore its
Machinery moves but feebly at some - points,
and others not at
To depend oil men whose time and
thoughts are mainly devoted to other and
wore remunerative labor or study to guide
and prosecute this great and needful work,
is to subject ourselves to certain disappoint
ment and defeat. So many precious inter
ests are iit stake, in the fate of the enter
prise that we cannot afford to have it die of
financial starvation. and that, too, in a eoun.
tr y "'m it t, by millions through its direct
influeneo. Through changes wrought in
our social customs and in their own personal
and domestic habits by the temperance ef
forts of the last thirty years, multitudes of
our citizens have been saved annually, sums
varying from ten to five hundred dollars.
A portion, at least, of what has been thus
saved should in all eases be devoted with
fidelity to the prosecution of this great work.
To add the entire amount thus saved to
one's previous accumulations, or to devote
it entirely to other enterprises, excelunt
though they may be, is as impolite as it is
unjust. We must steadily pay for tho re
striction or suppression of intemperance and
its procuring causes, or expend many times
the amount in footing the bills which this
wicked, destructive system will still present
to us.
No efforts ever put forth by man have
been richer in results to all the precious in.
terests of Christian communities than those
employed by temperance reformers so flu
as those efforts have been made in a proper
spirit, and guided by practical wisdom.
The temperance cause is not a failure.
We have simply failed to sustain and use to
a Ktfricient extent appropriate agencies and
instrumentalities. The cause has had hith
erto the moral, while the liquor system has
had the money powers. Let us henceforth
mid to the moral the money power and we
will educate the community in sound views
in relation to the whole subject and all its
phases, secure respect to who:'some and
needful laws, shield our youth from contam
inating ;Mitt, ens and thus with Gearabless-
ing greatly mitigate, if we cannot utterly dr-
Ntroy, the great scourge and curse of the
civilized world.—Dn. JEwm.
JUDGE GRIFFITU, on the bench in Now
York, appointed a crier whose want of sense
was more than made up by the size of his
voice. A young barrister, with more fun
than legal lure inlthu, was fond of playing
cif jokes on him. So one day the Judge
ordered the crier to call Jahur, Logue• Thu
barrister, stepping behind the crier, whis
pered. " Epilogue," in his car.
" Epi • logue !" shouted the crier.
" Monologue I" said the lawyer.
" Mono-logue !" cried the crier.
Prologue."
And the crier still cried, " Pro-loguc
Dialogue."
And the pertinacious crier shouted "
Dia
logu!e" at the top of his voice.
Discouraged at hearing no response from
the Logue fatally, the crier turned and said
to the court, sitting in mute astonishment
at the stupid crier's calls;
" I've called all the Logucs in town, and
never one is here to speak for himself "
Ovsmats.— We take the following from
an exchange, which is worthy of a trial :
We s uppose that nine out, of ten house
keepers will contradict us point blank, in a
statement that nine out ten dog not know
how to stow a dish of oysters. By the or
dinary routine that nearly every one tbllows,
citheir the oysters are stewed and shriveled
out of semblance of themselves is shape,
size and flavor, or else the soup and "thick
cuing" has a raw taste that spoils it. Here
is the right method, Try it once, and we'll
warrant you won't need telling the second
time. Pick the oysters out of' the juice
with a fork, as dry as possible ; stew the
juice ; thickening, milk or water, of which
the soup is to be made, until thoroughly
cooked; then drop the oysters in, and just
as the cooled soup begins to show signs of
simmering, empty out altogether, and you
will have rich soup and plump oysters, lu
scious enough to make you think you never
tasted raid oysters before.
PEATFI FllOll. WANT OF SLEW. —The fol
lowing communication was recently made to
a 'British society. "A Chime merchant had
been convicted of murdering his wife, and
was sentenced to die by being deprived of
sleep. This painful mode of death was car
ried into execution under the following eir
camstlineum• The condemned was placed in
prison under the care of three of the police
guard, who relieved each other every alter
nate hour, and who prevented the prisoner
from falling asleep, night or day. lle thus
lived for nineteen days without enjoying any
sleep. At the commencement of the eighth
day his sufferings were to intense that he
implored the authorities to grant him the
bletWed oppor tunity , of being strangled, gull
li3thild, bullied to tii`t th, drowned, shot,
garroted, quartered, `loan up with gunpow
der, or put to death in any other conceivable
way which their humanity or ferocity could
invent."
NUMBER 4.
At. ToueMng Story.
The following beautiful story was related
by Dr. Mae*, of Maryland, at a mooting
held in New York, to hear the experience
of twenty reformed drunkards :
" A drunkard who had run through his
property returned one night to Lis unfur
nished home. Ile entered his empty hall
anguish was gnawing at his heart-string. ,
and laughing was inadequato to expreso his
agony as he entered his wire's apartment,
and there beheld the vietinis of his appetite,
his loving wife and a darling child. Mo
rose and sullen, be seated himself without
saying a word; he could net speak—ho
could not look upon them. The mother
said to the little angel at her side, " Come,
my child, it is time to go to bed ;" and that
little baby, 84 she way wont, knelt by her
mother's lap, and gazing wistfully into the
face of her suffering parent, like a pe:eo of
chiselled statuary, slowly repeated her night
ly orison. When •.he had finished, the child
(but four years of age) said to her mother :
Dear mother, may I not offer up one more
prayer r Yes. yes, my sweet pet, play
and she lifted up her tiny hands, closed her
eyes, and prayed "0 Cod! spare, oh !
spare my dear papa!" That prayer
wafted with electric rapidity to the throne
of Clod. It was heard on high—it was
heard on earth. The responsive " Amen'''
burst from the rather's lips and his heart of
stone became a heart of flea h. Wit': awl
child were both clasped to his lyom, and in
penitence he said : My child ! you have
saved your father from the grave of a druuL.
ard. sign the pledge l"
DANCINO TREIR RAG! , orr.—Two um,o
phisticatml country lasses visited Nihlo's, iu
New York, during the ballet season. When
the short skirted, gossamer-cld 1.11 , 114
made their appearance nit the .1 .•• they
became restless awl fidgety.
"Oh, Annie !" exelaimcd one, rottproF,Y,
"Well, Mary?"
"It ain't nice—l don't like it."
"Hush:"
"I don't care it ain't nice ; and I wander
why aunt brought us to such a place."
"Hush, Mary, the fl as will laugh at yon:"
After one or two flings and a !genetic the
blushing Mary said :
"Oh, Annie, let's go—it ain't nice, and I
don't feel comforted
"Do hush, Mary," reel ad thr, winter,
who face was undet though it wore an ai
of determination : "it's the lint time I eve:
was at a theatre, and I kuppo.,4- it will i,e th,.
last; k) lam juit going to it out, it they
dame every rag off their Lae., I"
TILE Brsr n COI'Lll T).—An army
chaplain relates the following Pmmy story.
Seeing a dirty faced butternuturchin at the
fence in front of a house, the pr.-4v, • top
ped and said :
"Is your father at home ?"
"No, he's gone to church."
"rg your mother in?"
"No, she's gore'
"Then you are all !••,• y !zr .!f."
"No,LSam's in ilea the 1.;•.4,er
gal."
"That's bad."
"Yes, it's bad but it's 1,-st he eau
Mil
WANTED.---A bride who is wird', Y to oetm
housekeeping in the ,ante st: le in
which her parents* m•
Twenty fashionable young ladiei tvi.o
dare to be Seen wieldirm. a ling-brush. or
darning their brothers' stockings, if a ge%-
tieuran should happen to make an Lally cat!.
Ten independent young ladies of - g
families, - dare to wear their last win
ter's bonnets to (.11 urh on a fine Sunday.
Fifteen young Indies of sufficient age to
go into company,who dare confess they ever
made a loaf of bread or a pudding.
TnEnr. euriotv 'natural (11 ,- de" in
l'inehmati, the mine bvie,; a rem Ile chill,
two and one-half ye rs al, which has chau.
ged from ordinary Wane). to the full matu
rity of womanhood. Its whole body under
went the mton6hing change, with the excep
tion or its face, which rem; in.i a pretty baby
face; and in its walking, crying and eating,
6 like other children of its age.
A MINISTER in a highly elaborate sermon
which he preached, saidseveral flume, "Thu
commentators do not agree with me here."
Next morning a poor woman came to see
him with something in her vpron. tike
said that "her husband read the sermon,
and that it was a 'ery Ono one, and he said
"the common tstersdid not agree with hint,"
ho has sent some of the best kidneys."
WHY is old age like a dog's tail 'I Be
cause it is in•tirm.
THESE aro loving
4 as dear milt cau be.
WHY ie an egg overdone like one flatlet
done? Bennie it is hardly done.
A Max from the Auburn prison says, he
lost there all admiration fur Auburn leeks.
"Boy, where does this road go to?'
" Nowhere, as I know on. alkrs staid
here."
Why are most government offieials
)ostago stamps 2. Became they are poor
-ticks.
There is n 0 luck like pluck, and fortune
n 0.4, favor.' th.oe ho ale it in di tit rent
0 fortune.
A Poormt I; i..cturing around tho
country on " a I)i , t-n•e called Love." Ho
re.minnionda matrimony aa eertain owe.
Some persona who hro taken tho modidoo
find the reme.!.; ' than