HUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
WHOLE No. 198.]
TERMS
OF THE
11 . 01\TTINODON .70171%1\TAL.
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out. and charge accordingly.
To the Public.
THE public are hereby informed, that
JACOB MILLER has been appointed agent
for Huntingdon county, for the sale of Dr,
Evans' Camomile and family aperient pills,
where all those that need medicine, can be
supplied as he intends always to have a sup
ply unhand.
IFE AND HEALTH,—Persons whose
di' nerves have been injured by Calomile,
or excessive grief, great loss of blood, the sup
pression of accustomed discharges or cuta
mous, intemperate habits, or other causes
which tend to relax and enervate the ner
vous system, will find a friend to soothe and
comtort them, in EVANS' CAMOMILE
PILLS. Those afflicted with Epilepsy or
Palling Sickness, Palsy, Serious Ap_o_plexy,
and organic affections of the heart, Nausea,
Vomiting, pains in the side, breast, limbs,
head, stomach or back, will find themselves
Immediately relieved, by using
EVANS' CAMOMILE AND APERIENT
PILLS.
1)a. EVANS does not pretend to say that
his medicine will cure all diseases that flesh
and blood are heir t q but he does says that
in all Debilitated and Impaired Constitutions
to Nervous diseases of all kinds, particular
ly of the DIGESTIVE ORGANS, and in
Incipient Consumption, whether of the lungs
or liver, they will cure. That dreadful dis
ease, CONSUMPTION, might have been
checked in its commencement, and disap
pointed its prey all over the land, if the first
symptoms of Nervous Debility had been
counteracted by the CAMOMILE FLOW
ER chemically prepared; together with many
Other diseases, *here other remedies have
proved fatal.
How many persotis Ao we daily find tortu
red with that dreadful disease, SIC K
HEADACHE, If they would only make
trial of this invaluable medicine, they would
pereeive that life is a pleasure and not a
cource of misery and abhorrence. In conclu
sion I would warn nervous persons against
the abstraction of BLOOD, either by leech
es, cupping,lor the employment of the lancet.
Drastic purgatives in delicate habits are al
most equally improper. Those ,are prac-
Bees too often resorted to in such cases, but
they seldom fail to prove highly . injurious.
Certificates of cures are daily received which
add sufficient testimony of the great efficacy ,
of this invaluable medicine, in relieving af
flicted mankind. The above medicine is for
sale at Jacob Miller's store, Huntingdon.
I~R. Swayi?s . a . mpound Syrup of pro
nits of T irgonann or wild Cherry.
This syrup is highly beneficial in all pecto
ral affections; also, in diseases of the chest
in which the lungs do not perform their
proper office from want of due nervous
energy: such as asthmas, pulmonary con
sumption, recent or chronic coughs, hoarse
ness, whooping cough, wheezing and ;dif
ficulty of breathing, croup and spitting of
blood, 4.c. How many sufferers do we
daily behold approaching to an untimely
grave, wrested in the bloom of youth from'
their dear relatives and friends, afflicted
with that common and destructive rava
ger, called consumption, which soon wasts
the miserable sufferer until they become
beyond .the power of human skill; it such
sufferers would cnly make a trial of Dr.
Swayne's invaluable medicine, they would
soon find themselves benefitted; than by
gulphing the various ineffective certain
remedies of which our newspapers daily
abound. This syrup immediately begins
to heal the ulcerated lungs, stopping' pro
fuse night sweats, mititigating the distres
sing cough at the same time inducing a
healthy and natural expectoration, also re
Ilieving the shortness of breath and pain
in the chest, which harrass the sufferer on
the slightest exercise, and finally the bee
tio flash in the pallid and emaciated cheek
will soon begin to vanish, and the sufferer
will here peeeive himself snatched from a
premature grave, into the enjoyment again
of comfortable health.
For sale at Jacob Miller's store Hunt.
BAD THIS!: Da. SW AYN E'S COM
-441
POUND SYRUP of PRUNES VaR
GINIANA, or VGLDCHER - ItY7This is de
cidedly one of the beat remedies for Coughs
44 Colds now in use: it allays irritation of
,the Lungs, loosens the cough, causing the
plcgm to raise free and easy; in Asthma,
Pulmonary Consumption,
Recent or Chron
ic Coughs, Wheezing & Choking of Phlegm
Hoarseness, Difficulty of breathing, Croup,
Spitting of Blood, &c. This Syrup is war
ranted to effect a permanent cure, it taken
according to directions which accompany the
bottles. For sale only at Jacob Miller's story
*untingdon,
THE GARLAND.
-"With sweetest flowers enrich'd
From various gardens cull'd with care."
FOR THE JOURNAL.
STANZAS.
Oh where's the gem that shines so bright
As that k!en eye of thine;
The stars that light the sable night
With fainter lustre shine.
Who would not leave their trade or art,
To scrutenize that face
And graceful form—and every part
Is redolent of grace.
Thy step is that of the wild Ga zelle,
So nimble, light and free;
And beauty, like the Archangle dwells,
Most charming girl with thee.
I admire.---Oh who could ever view
Your visage and form divine;
And feel when first he knew
His heart was wholly thine.
THE OLD OAK TREE,
BY G. P. MORRIS.
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I'll protect it now.
'Twas my forefather's hand
That plac'd it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not!
That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o'er land and sea,
And would'st thou hack it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke;
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
0, spare that aged oak,
Now towering to the skies!
When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kiss'd me here;
My father press'd my hand---
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand:—
My heart-strings round thee cling,
Close as the bark, old friend;
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot;
While I've a hand to save,
The axe shall harm it not.
Into tettane ono.
From the National Intelligencer.
SKETCHES
OP THE PERSONAL AND PUBLIC CHARACTER
OF DANIEL WEBSTER.
LETTER NO. 11.
R---, MA s. JULY, 1889.
Dear Sir: I am reminded of my prom
ise to write you another letter about Mr.
Webster by an incident which took place
last evening. I have a neighbor, a black
smith, for whom I entertain a sincere re
spect, though he is a Van Buren man.
The state of society is such in our village
that we have few distinctions founded
upon vocation or style of living; so my
friend of the anvil often pays me a visit,
and, though we diner in politics, we have
a good deal of pleasant intercourse.
Well, he called last evening, and began
by asking me if I had heard the news. I
replied in the negative; and he proceeded
to say that the steam-packet Liverpool had
arrived, bringing a letter from Mr. Web
ster, withdrawing his name from the list
of Presidential candidates. I remarked
that this did not surprise me, as I had long
understood that Mr. Webster had only
permitted himself to be held up as a can
didate at the solicitation of Ins friends.
Here I attempted to turn the conversa
tion, as we are uccustometl to avoid party
topics; but my neighbor, contrary to his
wont, chose to pursue the theme.
"What do vou think they will say to
Webster in England?" said he.
"They have the Globe," I replied, "and
that being the Goverment organ, is likely
to be considered in London as the best
authority- The Globe always represents
Mr. Webster as not only a wicked but an
inconsistent man. Ile is always spoken
of as interior to Benton, Wright, Walker,
and especially John M. Niles."
"Ah. but the Globe is a party paper."
"True; but it always speaks of John
"ONE COUNTRY,, ONE CONSTITUTION,, ONE DESTINY."
A. W. BENEDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 14, 1839.
M. Niles as rowing Webster up Salt river
in debate."
"I don't cats for that. It's my idea
that Webster can clinch a nail, in argu
ment, as well as the best on 'em."
"That I shall not dispute. But let us
consider that Webster is now in England;
and, though we may say what we please,
we care n►ore about John Bull's opinion
of us than that of the world beside. A
French Mauves or a German Prince
may travel among us, and go home and
say what he pleases; be it good or ill, we
care little. But if an English writer
laughs at our follies and our• foibles, even
though it be some trollop of a widow, or
an acidulated old maid, we turn red in
the face, and get seriously angry. This
'shows how much we care for the good
opinion of mother England. And now 1
wish to know, which you would rather
have go to England as a specimen of our
Ya^.kee breed—Daniel Webster or John
M. Niles?"
"Fudge!" said the blacksmith.
"But," said I, "Niles always beats
Webster in argument—at least says the
Globe." '
"Niles is an —!"
"Well, what do you say to Benton?"
"Benton talks to much Latin; Webster
never talks any thing but English, and he
handles it just as a strong man handles a
sledge-hammer; that is, in an easy kind
of way. a, if he was playing with it; and
yet the sparks fly right and left from the
red-hot iron. 1 heard Webster myself at
Bunker Hill, when the corner stone of the
monument was laid. It was the 171 h
June 1825. 1 sat right neat to one of
the old soldiers who was in the battle.
When the speech was over, the old patri
ot pulled up the waistband of his breech
es with his right hand, and turned to me
saying, .That's a grand speech, I do de
clare. lam pretty deaf, yon know, but I
heard it all as plain as I did the British
cannon. Every word of that speech
seemed to weigh a pound. Hurrah! hur
rah! hurt ahl' "
MARY.
"And so you think, because Webstei
pleased this old patriot, and pleased you
too, that he will please the English. How
does that follow?"
"Oh, there's do gammon about him.
He's true steel—and that's the stuff',
whether you wish to point a plough-share
or edge a razor. He was brought up a
farmer, and he knows how to sit down and
think a glass of cider, and talk about fat
cattle as well as any body. And it you
were to see him, as I have, by a New
Hampshire fireside, you'd think he really
was a farmer. why, there he's as ready
to o eive a neighbor the time of day as any
body. But I went once to Washington,
and what do you think I saw? I went to
the—what do you call it?—the levee.
Well there was a great crowd of officers,
all yellow with epaulettes and gold lace;
and there was dark hairy fellows looking
as wild and foolish as Shetland ponies;
and there were ladies with amazing tall
feathers upon their heads; and right in
the midst was Daniel Webster: It did
me good to look at him, and I was just on
'the point of crying out, "Hurrah for the
Granite State:"
"W by so, pray?"
"Why? Do you think I was'nt proud
of my native State when I saw a New
Hampshire boy, a farmer of New Eng.
land, a real Yankee, in the midst of all
that splendor; and to see him, too, care so
little about it I His eye was roving 'round,
as if he thought it was all nonsense.
was jammed in between the Brazilian
Ambassaaw and the fattest woman I ever
saw. I suppose I was pretty much cover
ed up; but it seems my head was out, for
Webster saw me, and not minding who
was looking on, he came right up and got
hold of my hand and gave it a real New
Hampshire gripe. I should have known
it was a New Hampshire fist in the dark,
for:twas just like my own vice."
“Well, what has all this to do with
Webster's being in England?”
"Why, you see, tho' Webster was'nt
afraid to shake the hand of a blacksmith
at the President's levee, and in the midst
of such splendid ladies and so many shi
ning officers, he still seemed as easy and
as much at home there as he used to be in
mowing a meadow of foxtail with a sharp
scythe. And now, I say, it stands to rea
son that that's the sort of man to be look
ed up to anywhere. He'll be no mere
afraid of your . queens and dukes, and all
, that sort of thinz, than he would be of so
much gold lace and buckram. I'm told
that, after all, these big people don't par
ado about the streets with their badges,
and coronets, and ribbands, like our mili
tia corporals on a muster day. A man
told me that he once saw King William,
and he was dressed for all the world like
a common man, only that he wore a little
bit of a star on his breast. Ile also said to
me that he once heard a person sneeze
just as natural as life, and was told it was
the Marquis of Murryburrow."
My friend here had a lurking smile upon
his face, and I perceived that he had turn-
ed from the point of discussion by design.
It was evident he had been betrayed into
an expression of interest in Webster
which was at variance with his political
treed, for it is a melancholy fact that par
ty fidelity seems to demand of its vota
nes unqualified rancor and hate towards
thoxe who are not birds of its own feath
er. Enough had been said, however, to
*how that my neighbor, though a Locofo
co,was willing, nay proud that such . a
.
sp men of the true Yankee as Darnel
Webster should be in England. When I
Intimated that he might have been better
pleased it John M. Niles had been sent to
represent the country there, he had that
sort of expression about the face which is
apt to come over it when ipecac is men
tioned.
From the Public Ledger.
“WHY, I HAD A FIP ONCE!"
Walking some time ago upon one of our
wharves, my attention was attracted to
one of those table stands which so nu
merously stud the public path, for
public accommodation, generally atten
ded by females, and upon which are often
displayed a thousand luxuries, exotic and
indigenous. The one upon which I look- I
ed was elegantly and temptingly laid out
with "burnt" ground nuts, mint sticks,
cherries red and ripe, crackers with sausa
ges, cigars, (Spring Garden Cabanos, no
doubt,) together with a thousand and one
of smaller, but yet delicious and savory
notions, well calculated to tempt the ap.
petite and intently fix the gaze of many
an eppicure who might be loitering along
that way.
Before this stand was one of the very
character just hinted at, whose locomotion
had been arrested by a glance at the"deli
cacies of the season," and who, intent
upon the gratification of his appetite, had
made a demand upon the "good woman,"
for some one of the fine things under
which her table groaned. While the ev-
er-ready and complaisant caterer was
diligently engaged in selecting from her
Nast assortment the articles required, our
hero, who was as black as the ace of ;
spades, us John—would say, stood bent,
forward, inclined obliquely to the right,''
with his leg crooked and resting somewhat
on his toe, his right arm pushed its utmost
length into his pocket, his eyes wildly rol
ling over the good things before him, but
yet with an evidently strong and affecting
sympathy between them and his fingers,
which at that moment were eagerly ma
' king a circuit round the corners of his
pocket, in search of money, to be
sure, as the reader will readily perceive,
when I tell him, that at this moment this
sooty gourmand made the significant ex
clamation, "Why, I had a fip once :"
To me it seemed that his whole soul
was absorbed in the object of his search—
his peculiar posture, his every feature,
every look indicated to me that every
hope, every idea of pleasure and of joy
were-et that instant concentrated in the
little fugitive sixpence--the once lone and
solitary inmate of our hero's breeches
pocket. "Why, I had a fin once !" he ex
claimed, pushing his hand still further in
to the recesses of his pocket, with appa
rent despair, his eyes in their "fine fren
zy rolling," evidently at work with his
fingers in their wild goose chase after the
forlorn hope—whose well known mis
chievous propensities prompted it no doubt
for some sinister object to hide its "di
minished head" in some one of the nu
merous crumples of our hero's unmen
tionables.
I passed on, anti have vet to learn
whether success crowned his exertions or
not--whether he glutted his stomach with
the good things of this life, or, under cir
cumstances of deep mortification, was dri
ven disappointed, sorrowful and hungry
from a scene where things "pleasant to
the eyes and good for food" •rere sumptu
ously portrayed, inviting the most fastidi
ous to "eat, drink and be merry." Be
this as it may, in wending my way home
ward, my mind pursued a train of reflec
tion which afforded Inc a pleasant and re
galing feast. I thought, in the situation
of this son of Ham, in his exclamation,
that I saw a picture of many, very many,
of my poor and unfortunate fellow crea
tures. I fancied to myself the tender and
doting mother, who for years spent
the income of the family upon sever
al of her sons, but, by a sad reverse
of fortune, was reduced in circumstance,
and now, when applied to by one of the
younger branches of the family for a see
cial favor, she is compelled, with agoniz
ing feelings, to deny it—and with emo
tion only to be felt to be fully realized,
she thinks to herself—" Why I had a fip
once !" There was a time when I could
have granted the boon to my little boy,
but, alas alas the day of my prosperity
is gone, and I ant poor : I thought, too,
of the kind indulgent father, whose eldest
daughters were fondly brought up in the
fashions of the day—who spent a fortune
to give them what the fashionable world
calls accomplishments. I fancied, in af
ter years, the younger members of the
family at common schools, in ordinary,
though decent attire—while his neighbor's
children are engaged in various sports, or
indulged in carriage rides—while others
are enjoying all the luxuries of life, their
sons and daughters in the heyday of youth
beast with ten thousand pleasures—he,
poor old man, looks upon these things, the
tear of regret swelling his eyes, and feels
the hard iron pang take mental existence,
and with its dark impress upon his soul
haunts him with broken hopes and by gone
joys, and through his mind darting the
thought, "Why, I had these things once.
Why, once I was happy too ; alas poor
me 1."
I thought also that I saw the once haugh
ty, proud and self-willed young girl, but
now the married lady, weeping over her
tender and helpless children—whose fath
er, unfortunate in ti ade, disheartened and
griefworn, unnaturally leaves them to the
tenderness of a broken hearted mother,
and the chary kindness of a cold and un.
feeling world. I thought I saw her, while
weeping scalding tears, caress her little
babe, and fancied that I heard the gushing
sigh burst forth in melancholic and articu
late strains, "Oh I was happy once. I
once had plenty and to spare." 1 con-'
templated the refactory and stubborn son,
whose father had twice set him up in bu
siness, but whose waywardness—to give
it no harsher name—had brought him in
to discredit, with the entire loss of all lie
had--who, stung with mortification and
under u sense of shame, flies from his
kindred and home—among strangers and
sick, without money—without resources,
he looks homewards and weeps with the
bitter exclamation, "I had friends once
I once had a home with kind and soothing
friends !" I saw the gambler, penniless
and desponding—evaded by his colleague
--despised by all good citizens who knew
him--without hope--and in the wildness
of frenzy crying "I had honor once, I
once had money, and a friend !"
I saw too, the drunkard, the loafer, in
the morning after a night's debauch—his
visage bloated—his whole appearance for
lorn, wretched and miserable—with nerv
ous trembling, and unsteady gait—burn
ing with thirst he seeks the tavern—with
eager haste demands a baneful glass—the
deathly liquid is poured forth, and • the
wretch in human form earnestly raises the
poisoned chalice to his lips, when the land
' lord demands his pay in advance, which
falls like a thunder clap upon his car.
With reluctance he desists, yet sternly
compelled, with feat ful forebodings he
commences au apparent diligent search in
the tattered remnants of his pockets—in
utter dismay he finds that all arc empty—
penniless— penniless—and in the poignan
cy of his grief, with horror and death de
picted in his face, he exclaims "I had a
fip once—l had a fip once."
Dear reader, if one thought has been
suggested of benefit to you or any one
else, I shall be repaid for my few motnents'
reflections, and the time occupied in put
ting them upon paper. I hope that all
who read them may be profited, and not
at any time be compelled, under any cir
cumstances, to look back on past time,
and with grief exclaim, "Why, I had a
fip once."
APPARITION
Notwithstanding ou rotten declar'd skep
ticism regarding any visitation to earth by
the disembodied spirit, the following et.-
lotion, cooling to us from a source truly
respectable, and so enlightened by , liber
al education as to defy all suspicions of
her being the slave of nursery tales or
popular superstitions, we insert it without
further comment. —Montreal Trans.
Last Tuesday fortnight, as Mrs-,
[a lady of literary taste and rather studi
ous habits,] sat reading in her drawing
room, the clock on the mantle struck
twelve; as the last stroke reviberated
through the apartment, its doors were sud
denly flung open. In the act of raising
her head to reprove the intrusion (unrung
for) of her servant, her eye rested on the
torm of her late husband; she screamed &
fell senseless on the carpet. This brought
up such members of the family as had not
yet retired to rest; restoratives were ad.
ministered, and when Mrs-, had re
gained possession of her suspended fac
ulties, and being a woman of strong mind
and highly cultivated intellect, she felt
disposed to consider the whole of the dis
tress she had undergone as the result of
certain associations between the melan
choly tale she had been perusing, and her
late loss, operating on a partially derang
ed nervous system. She, however, con
sidered it advisable that her female ser
vant should repose in her chamber, least
any harm of what she had determined to
consider a nervous affection should dis
tress herself and alarm the family.
last Tuesday night, feeling stronger 66
better spirits that she had enjoyed for sev
leral months past, Mrs— -dispensed with
[VOL. IV, No. 42.
the service of her attendant, retiring a
lone to her chamber, and went to bed a
little before 10 o'clock. Exactly as the
clock struck 12 she was awakened from
sleep, and distinctly beheld the appari
tion she had before seen, advancing from
the table (on which stood herinight lamp)
till it stood opposite to and , drew aside
the curtains of her bed. A seaoe of suf
focating oppression deprived her of all
power to scream aloud. She describes
her very blood retreating will icy chill
ness to her heart from every , vein. The
countenance of her beloved in life wore
not its benevolent aspect, the eyes once
beaming with affection, were now fixed in
stern regard on the trembling half dissol
ved being who with the courage of desper
ation thus adjured him. 'Charles! dear
Charles! why are you come again?' les
see' slowly and solemnly aspirated the
shadowy form, waving in its hand a small
roll of written paper, "Jessee, pay my
newspaper account 4- let me rest in pence!'
IRISH PATHOS,
There are many melancholy aids in the
country that give Pathos birth, which na
turally increase its effixt ; but it does not
need them in the same proportion that
Irish humor does, it goes straight to the
heart, while its opposite works on the im
agination ; it follows or precedes the jest
with extraordinary rapidity—the smiles
bursts forth before the tear is dry, but its
sadness is certainly augmeLted by witnes
sing the causes that produce it. There is
a depth of pure and holy po:try in Irish
pathos which cannot be surpassed ; its
metaphors are appropriate, and attack
our reason by the force of their beautiful
simplicity. We remember once passing
by an Irish cottage on the estate of an ab
sentee landlord, wlins;.l agent had distrain:
!;r: rent; the family were of the very
poor. A mother, whose husband was re
covering from the "sickness," as typhus
fever is always called, staggered from be
heath the door-way, not from any weak
ness of her own, but from her efforts to
support the wreck of what had been, three
years before, the finest young man in the
parish. She was followed by two little
children, the small remnant of her family
—three had been cam vied to the grave by
the disease from which the father was re
covering; it was beautiful to see how that
pale, thin, deep-eyed woman suffocated
her own feelings with the affection she bore
her husband.
"Don't cry afther the poor place, chil
i
dre dear; sure th' Almighty is above
us ale—and this last trouble has been sent
in good time, whin there's not so many of
us to bear it. The could earth is heavy
enough on Kathleen and Matty and Mich
ael,but the throuble of this day would be
heavier—for they were made of feeling.
Sure, my darlings, if there's power given
to the landlord now, he'll not be our land
lord
in world above ! The Lord be prais
ed for that same ! Don't cry afther the
pig, Ellen, avourneen, what signifies it?
May the little boy take the cat itself, sir?"
addressing the halt tipsy man who had
taken the inventory of the contents of
their miserable cabin. "Never heed it,
my darlint, though to be sure it's only na
tural to like the dawshy cat that lay in his
bosom all the the time of his sickness.
Keep up, Michael," she whispered to her
husband, who overpowered by illness and
mental suffering, resisted her efforts to
drag him into the high road ; he glared
upon the bailiff with the glare of a famish
ed tiger, so famished that it has not the
power to spring upon its foe, impotent in
all but the fierce and racking thirst for
blood. "What signifies it? sure we'll be
happier than ever-by'n bye," she added,
while the haggard smile upon her lips was
the bitter mockery of hope. "Come as
way, Michael, I wonder that you wouldn't
be above letting the likes of them, without
a heart, see that you care about them or
their goings on. Oh ! where's your pride
gone . I—that, and the silence together, put
many a throuble over us that's known on
ly to ourselves and the Almighty—bless
ed He is ! He knows the throubles of the
poor, and keeps their secrets, Come away
Michael ! and don't let them tame Na
gurs see that it's the WOMAN that puts
courage in ye !"
But the peasant heeded her not—the
home affections were tugging at his heart.
lie kept his eyes fixed upon the remnants
of the furniture of his once comfortable
cottage, that were dragged out previous to
being carried away : he pointed to the po
tatoe kish which was placed upon the table
--that indispensable article in which the
potatoes arc thrown when boiled, and
which frequently, in the wilder and leis
civilized parts of Ireland, is used as a cra
dle for the "babby." "God bless you !"
he exclaimed to the man ! "God bless
you, and don't take that—it's nothing but
a kish! it's not worth half a farthing to
ye, it's fulling to pieces; but it's more to
me, homeless and houseless as I am, than
thousand's—it's nothing but a hash, but
my eldest boy--he, thank God, that's not
to the fore to see his father's poverty this