......r.....
VOL. V, No. 51.]
1MP.1113
OF THE
MUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
The" JOURNAL" Will be published every
-Wednesday morning, at two dollars a year,
a paid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid with
in six months, two dollar.; and a half.
Every person who obtains five subscribers,
And forwards price of subscription, shall be
Varnished with a sixth copy gratuitously for
nue year.
No subscription received for a less period
than six months, nor any paper discontinued
until all arrearages are paid.
it7° Xll communications must be addressed
to the Editor, POST PAID, or they will not
be attended to.
Advertisements not exceeding one square,
will he inserted three times for one dollar,
and for every subsequent insertion, twenty
five cents per square will be chlrged. lino
41efinite orders are given as to the time an
advertisement is to be continued, it will be
kept in till ordered out, and charged accor
dingly.
AGENTS.
FOR
The Huntingdon Journal.
Daniel Teague, Orbisonia; David Hair,
Esq. Shade Gait; Benjamin Lease, Shirleys- .
burg; Eliel Smith. Esq. Chilcottstown; Jas.
.Entriken, jr. Ceffee Run; Hugh Madden,
Esq. Sfiringfield; Dr. S. S. Dewey, Bir
mingham; James Morrow, Union Furnace ;
John Sisler, Warrior Mark; James Davis,
F.6q. West township ; D. H. Moore, Esq.
Frankstown• Eph. Galbreath, Esq. Holli
daysburg; Henry Neff, Alexandria; Aaron
Burns, Williamsburg; A. J. Stewart, Miter
Street; Wm. Reed, Esq. Maria town , ,kin;
Solomon Hamer, Arif 's Mill; James Dys.irt,
Mouth Spruce Creek; ‘Vm. Murray, Esq.
Graysville; John Crum, Manor Hill; Jas.
E. Stewart, Sinking. Valley; L. C. Kessler,
Mill Creek.
TREATMENT.
The principal objects to be kept In view
are Ist, to free the stomach and intestines
from offending materials. 2d, to improve
the tune of the digestive organs and energy
of the system in removing noxious matters
from the stomach, and obviating costiveness.
Violent drastic purgatives should be avoided
and those aperients should be used which
act gently, and rather by soliciting the per
istalic motions of the intestines to their regu
larity of health, than by irritating them to a
laborious excitement. lettere is no medicine
better adapted to the completion of this than
I)ar. O. P. HARLICII'S GERMAN APERIENT
PILLS. To improve the functions of the de
bilitated organs and invigorate tile system
generally, no medicine has ever been so
prominently efficacious as DR. Harlidl s
Compound Tonic Strengthening Pills, whose
salutary influence in restoring the digestive
organs to a healthy action, and re-establish
ing health and vigor in enfeebled and dys
petic constitutions; have gained the implicit
confidence of the must eminent physicians,
and unprecidented public testimony. Re
member Dr. Harlich's Compound Tonic
Strengthening Pills, thay are put up in small
packets with full directions.
Pt incipal office for the United States, is
No. 19 North Eighth street Philadelphia
where all communications must be addres,
sed.
Also for sale at the store of Jacob Miller
who is agent for Huntingdon County.
LIVER COMPL
Cured by the use of Dr Harlich's Compound
Strengthening and German Aperient Pills
Mr. Win. Richard, Pittsburg, Pa. entirely
cured of the above distressing disease: His
somptoms were, pain and weight in the left
side, loss of appetite, vomiting, acrid eructa
Lions, a distention of the stomach, sick
headache, furred tongue, countenance chang
ed to a citron color, difficulty of breathing,
disturbed rest, attended with a cough, great
debility, with other symtoms indicating great
derangement of the functiens of the liver.
Mr. Richard had the advice of several pity
sicians, but received no relict, until using Dr
Harlich's medicine, which terminated in ef
fecting a perfect cure.
Principsi °Rica, 19 North Eight stree
Philadelphia. [don Pa
Far sale at Jacob Miller's store Huntin
BRANDRETIea PILLS.—This medicine
is acknowledged to be one of the most va
luable ever discovered, as a purifier of the
blood and fluids. It is superior to Sarsa
parilla whether as a sudorific or altera
tive, and stands infinitely before all the
preparations and combinations of Mercury
Its purgative properties are alone of in
calculable value, for these pills may be
taken daily for any period, and instead of
weakening by the cathartic effect, they add
strength by taking away the cause of
weakness. They have none of the miser•
able effects of that deadly specific Mercu
ry. The teeth are not injured—the bones
and limbs are not paralysed—no; but
instead of these tlistreesing symptoms,
new life and consequent animation is evi
dznt in every movement of the body.
Brandreth's Pills aae indeed a universal
remedy; because they cleanse and purify
the blood. Five years this medicine has
been before thelmblic in the United tates
wherever it has been introduced, it bas
limpetsede; , all other remedies.
No. 8 North Bth St
Dr. B. tit . .2nur ,7 ! 11 .
Philadelphia, Pa.
Purchase them in jaCTIAGDON,
of WM. STEW ART, anti un!y in the
county, of agents published In another
part of this paper. Remember every
agent has a certificate of agency, filled
Within the last twelve months. If et an
carder 11110 do not put chase.
THE JOURNAL.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2. 1840.
PAIN OR WEAKNESS•
In all cases of pain and weakness,
whether it be chronic or recent—whether
it be deafness, or pain in the side—wheth
er it arise from constitutional, or frem
softie immediate cause—whether it be
from internal or external injury, it will
be cured by perservering in the use of
llrandreih•s Vegetable Universal Pills—
because, purging with these Pills those
humors from the body, is the true cure
for all these complaints and every other
form of disease. This is no mere asser
tion, it is a demonstrable truth, and each
day it is extending itself far and wide—
it is becoming known and more and more
appreciated.
if hen constant exercise cannot be u
sed, from any cause, the occasional use
of opening medicines, such an one as
Brandreth's Vegetable Universal Pills,
is absolutely rttplired. Thus the con
duits of the BLOOD, the fountait, of life,
are kept free from those impurities which
would prevent its steady current minis
tering to health. Thus morbid humors
are prevented from becoming mixed with
it. It is nature which is thus assisted
through the means and outlets which she
has provided for herself. •
RHEUMATISM.
Entirely cured by the use of Dr. O. P.
Harlich's Compound Strengthening and Ger
man Aperient Pills.
Mr. Solomon Wilson, of Chester co. Pa.,
afflicted for two years with the above dis
tressing disease, of which he bad to use his
crutches for 18 months, his symptoms were
excruciating pain in all his Joints, especially
n his hip, Shoulders and ancles, pain increas
ng al ways towards eveing attended with
heat. Mr. Wilson, was at o. e time not able
to move his limbs on account of the pain be
ing
so great; he being advised by a Friend of
his to procure Dr. Harlich's pill of which he
sent to the agent in West Chester and pro
erred som; on using the medicine the third
day the pain disappeared sod his strength
increasing fast, and in three weeks was able
to attend to his business, which he hod not
done for 18 months; for the benefit of there
afflicted, he wishes those lines pu ,fished
that they may be relieved, and ap in en
joy the pleasures of a healthy life.
Principle office, 19th North 8t Street.
Philadelphia,
ALSO—For sale at the Store of .1 cob Mil
ler, Huntingdon, Pa.
L I VER COMPLAINT.
This disease is discovered by a fixed ob
tuse pain and weight in the right side under
the short ribs; attended with heat, uneasi
ness about the pit of the stomach;—there
in the right side also a distension—the patient
loses his appetite and becomes sick and trou
ble with vomiting. The tongue become'.
rough and black, countenance changes to a
pale or citron color or yellow, like those I af
fficted with jaudice—difficulty of breathing,
disturbed rest, attended with dry caugh, dif,
ficulty of laying on the left side—the oody
becomes weak, end finally the'disease termi
nates into another of a more serious nature,
which in all probability is far beyond the
power of human skill. Dr Harlich's com•
pound tonic strengthening and German ape
tient Pills, iF taken at the commencement of
this disease, will check it, and by continu
ing the use of the medicine a few weeks, a
perfect cure cure will be performed. Thou
sands can testify to this fact.
Certificatesot many persons may daily he
seen of the efficacy or this invaluable medi
cine by applying at the Medical Office, No
19 North Eight street, Philadelphia.
Also, at the Fiore of Jacob Miller, wo
agent for Huntingdon county.
DYSPFPSIA ! DYSPEPSIA ! !
More proofs of the efficacy of Dr. Ilarlich'
..4ledicince.
Mr Jonas Hartman, of Sumneytown, Pa.
entirely cured of the above disease, which
Ise was afflicted with for six years. His
spmptoms were a sense of distension and op
pression after eating, distressing pain in the
pit of the stomach, nausea, los. of appetite,
giddiness and dimness of sight, extreme de
bility, flatulency * acrid eructations, same
times Vomiting, and pain in the right side,
depression of spirits. disturbed rest, faint
ness, and not able to pursue his business
withoutcau sing immediate exhaustio% and
weariness.
Mr. Hartman k happy to state to the pub
lie and is willing t ,, give any information to
the afflicted, respecting the wonderful ben
efit he received from the use of Dr. Barbell
Compound Strengthening and German ape
rient pills. Principal office No. 19 North
Eighth street Philadelphia. Also for sale
nt the store ofJacob Miller, Huntingdon.
C_4l,'SE OF DYSPEPSIA
This disease often originates from a hab,
of overloading or distending the stomach by
excessive eating or drinking, or very protrac
ted periods of fasting, an indolent or seden
tary life, in which no etercise is afforded to
the muscular fibres or mental faculties, fear
grief. and deep anxiety, taken too frequent
ly str, ng purgingmedicines, dysentery,
mis
cart iages, intermittent and syasmodic affec
liens of the stomach and bowels; the mo
common of the latter causes are late hour
and the too frequent use of ,piritui.s liquor
I. Fisher & A. IC Co r nyn,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
zaILL carefully attend to all business
committed to their care in the Courts
of Huntingdon
. 8c Mi ffl in counties. Mr. Cur
nyn may he Mond at his office, in Market
St., opposite the Store of Mr. Dorris, in the
borough of Hunting.h.n.
Hunt. Sep. 9, IE4O.
"ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
A. W. BENEDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.
POETRY
From Alexander's Weekly Messenger,
W INTER
IT P. 1115. CATHARINE H. ISLING.
A sigh for the leafless trees,
A sigh for the lonely wood,
And a swift career to the passing breeze,
And its stormy breath su rude.
Thou art come like a warrior brAve,
To a battle just begun,
And for trophies thou host bro't the grave,
And a cold and chilling sun.
See the stricken leaves look down
From the topmost branch to thee,
And they wither at thy angry frown,
For it is their destiny.
Like a monarch in his might,
Ur a couquerer in the field.
Thou h ast put the conquered ranks to flight
And host made the vassals yield.
And how prcudly o'er the slain
Do thy giant footsteps tread,
But vaunt not thou, for thy tyrant reign,
Is over the feeble dead.
Away on the wings of pride,
Thou hoary, and aged king,
For thy white locks may not long abide
Where thou now art journeying.
Then sigh for the leafless trees,
And sigh for the lonely wood,
And a swift career to the passing breezes
With its stormy breath so rude.
A MOTHER
There's music in a mother's voice
More sweet than breezes sighing;
There's kindness in a mother's glance.
Too pure for ever dying.
There's love within a mother's breast,
So deep, 'tis still o'erflowing;
And care for those she calls her own,
That's ever — eser growing.
1 here's anguish in a mother's tear,
When farewell fondly taking,
That so th, heart of pity moves,
It scarcely keeps from breaking.
And when a mother kneels to Heaven,
And for her child is praying,
Oh! who can half the ferver tell,
That burns in all she's saying.
A mother! how her tender arts,
Can sooth the breath cf sadness,
Ann through the gloom of life once more
Bid shine the sun of gladness.
A mother! when, like evening's star,
Her course has ceased before us,
From brighter worldsregards us still,
And watches fondly o'er us.
From Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,
"THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR.'
Slowly from Alhambra's gate,
Vanquished King Boabdil came;
Dark and gloomy is his fate—
Dim the lustre of his name.
Spaniards fill his princely halls,
Which he fought in sin to save,
Spanish banners o'er his walls
Proudly and triumphant wave.
ty the Darro's silver tide,
There a thousand chieftains bled,
Moor and christian side by side,
Sleep in silence with the dead.
Woe is thee! Alhambra, woe!
Hasli'd thy strains of minstrelsy,
Thy chrystal fountains case to fluw,
And thy maidens Neep for thee.
Woe is thee! Granada, thou
Art fall'n from thy high estate!
Where are all thy glories now?
Where are all thy warriors great ?
King Buabdil reins his steed,
Anxious thoughts his bosom swell;
He would for his kingdom bleed,
Ere he takes his last farewell.
He gazes from the mountain's verge,
Upon the home he leaves to die;
And gentle winds with mournful dirge,
blow bear away the Moor's last sigh.
J. P. M.
Washington.
THE VIRGIN'S FOUNTAIN
• LEGEND OF HUNGARY,
BY MISS PARDO&
At a short distance from the medicinal
waters of Posteny, knor n, according to
the belief of the inhabitants of that neigh
borhood, since the time of the Romans,
rise the ruins of an ancient church said to
have formerly belonged to the Knights
Tempters, in proof of which assertion
there still exists fantastic images of some
which appear among the ruins like the
last accents of by-past wisdom, to arrest
the steps of the solitary traveller.
Near the church is a limpid spring
which gushing forth a sparkling volume,
once slaked the thirst of the Red Cross
Warriors when their strength was ex
hausted by Lattle, and at this fountain
they yet meet to wander in the moonlight
haunting with their armed and gigantic
figures the hour of night, and turning
them to terror to weep over the extinc
tion of their illustrious order, abolished
to mere worldly interests.
But it is not by phantoms such as these
alone—foul shapes "making night hide
ous," and obscuring with dark shadows
the "glimpses of the moon"—that this fair
spring is visited. It has also its sweet
oracle for loving hearts. Each year, on
the eve of the feast of St. Stephen, the ho •
ly bishop king, who with his own pious
hand laid the first stone of this now ruin
ed church, and whose blessed shadow yet
hovers about the sacred spot, the maidens
of the neighborhood walked in procession
at midnight to fill their pitchers at the
fountain, in full faith that ablution in its
waters would double their attractions.
Absorbed in fervent prayer, they kneel
upon the threshold of the church; for ac
ct. ding to ancient rumor, whoever so lion
ors the saint, in pity of heart, will meet
on the morrow upon her path the part
ner of lice future hle.
Thus, from the earliest times, this cere
many has been observed, and the fair
maidens of the hamlet have crowded to
the fountain of St. Stephen's eve, to as•
certain if the secret wishes of their hearts
• would come to pass; and we are about to
tell a loving legend to which this popular
custom owes its origin.
Boritza, the daughter of Bolko, was a
rose which opens to the sweet breath of
morning, but like that lovely flower, there
were thorns about her and around her as
it to deter the hand of love from the
bright blossom which he would have as
pired to wear.
Bolko was rich, and riches bring honor
and credit when they are rightly used;
but Bulk° was a stern man, and cold as
the ore with which he filled his cutlers.
None loved him, for his heart was closed
against his kind; and even his fair child,
young and beautiful and gentle as she
was, wept less at his severity than at his
want of tenderness. lie cared not for his
kind; his soul was his chests; and Boritza
was to him merely a something living
which he was bound to succor and support
—yet she bore even this—riot without
tears; for sAnetimes it was luxury to weep
but calmly and in silence. A sister of
her father's watched over Boritza—the
dragon of the Hesperides became the guar
ditto of the young beauty; to her the very
name of love was odious—it was a foul
blight withering the fair face of nature—
the ashes of the Dead Sea—the feast of
the Barmecide, full of promise and disap
',ointment. Her youth had passed in
coldness and neglect, and her age reven
iged the bitterness of her buried years.
Iler words were harsh and cruel; and
the gentle Boritza suffered so deeply
from her restless and jealous tyranny,
that a deep veil of sadness fell over her
you 4 beauty, which only added another
charm to those with which nature had so
profusely gifted her, as if to revenge her
upon her persecutor.
But Bmitza, had a joy which was be
yond the grasp even of her tiger aunt.,
She loved! loved with the earnest, inno
cent fervor of a heart which pours itself
out for the first time, like a rich odor
shed on a hidden shrine. None knew
how well she loved, how tenderly; and
he whom she so worshipped was worthy
of her aflection. !t was Emetic; stately
as a pine tree on the mountain crest, with
eyes black as the night, and hair which,
dark and gleaming as the raven's wing,
clustered about a brow that might have
well beseented an Apollo or an Antinons.
The love was secret— it was the dear
er, the purer, from its mystery; for no i•
dle tongue had linked their names to
gether, and blighted the sacredness of
their passion. They met in the leafy
woods, amid the sighing of the branches
and the whispers of — theivind .. that wand
ered through them, in the soft moonlight,
when the long shadows fell dark upon
the earth, and the stars spangled the man
tle of night until it shone with regal splen
dor; and their whispers were lower than
those of the summer wind, their sighs gen
tier than those that wake the summer
woods; their eyes outshone the stars,
and their young hearts were purer than
the inuonlight.
Bat sorrow came even to this Eden of
the soul, whence the foul serpent should
have been thrust out. Boritza was fond,
and beautiful and young, but Emeric was
of high and ancient race; his lather was
proud and stern; he loved his sou, but
ambition was his masterspirit, and he had
vowed to Emeric that he should lead no
bride to his paternal hearth who could
not double his possessions.
And thus Boritza passed her days in
tears, or the dear moment of Eineric'a ar
rival beneath her window, when some
times so closely guarded as to be unable
to leave her chamber, she could extend to
him through the bars of her narrow
casement the small and delicate hand,
which he cove' ed with the burning kisses
while she talked to him in the low tones
in which rassion loves to word itself.
One night they were conversing thus
painting even their fears in those sweet
shadowy form which almost robbed them
of their bitterness, and striving to hope a
gainst conviction, when the jealous guar
dian of Boritza stole upon their confi
dence. The youth was half buried among
the flowering branches of an aeaci tree
that grew against the wall of the chateau,
immediately beside the chamber of the
maiden; and the hand of the fair girl, ex
tended beyond the grating of her casement
rested lovingly among the dark curls
which fell upon his shoulders, while she
listened to his low whispers with a smile
of pensive happiness playing' about her
'ips.
Thus they stood when the storm burst
upon them. lnvoctive, threat and insult,
were heaped upon he trembling Boritza,
and her lover lingering near, unable to a
•ert from her the bitter word or the taun
ting look. Ws heart bled, not only for
her but for himself; he could not hear it
long—and rushing from the garden bold
ly and without hesitation,
: he strode into
the presence of her father Bolko.
The reception was a stern one. Bolko
was as proud as the noble who despiser!
his daughter—his pride was so tangible;
he could secure it with lucks and bolts,
or he could draw it forth and feed upon it
and then teplace it for a future scrutiny;
and what fad the lofty count to show
which outvalued his beloved gold!—Rorer
is bore up bravely against the torrent of
insult which was his welcome; he suppli
cated, lie implored, and love is eloquent
when the heart prompts the words; but
Bolko heeded not his agony, and ere they
parted he forbade the entry of his dwel
ling to the soul stricken Etneric.
I'lie youth turned to depart; there was
a struggle in his breast between his love
for Boritza and the pride in which he had
been nurtured from his youth; but ere lie
had reached the centre of the hall, he met
the maiden, pale, trembling and bowed
down by the terrors of the past hour, as
the lilly is bent by the storm which pas
ses liver it. What had he to do with pride
as he looked upon her? He forgot all
save her! And as she flung herself at the
feet of her father, lie knelt beside her, and
again lie strove to awaken feeling where
it never dwelt. The sunshine fails to
warm the adamant--the storm bursts over
it anti leaves it cold, and hard, and intact
as ever—and Bolko had become as the
rock upon which the external influences
I ave no power, and he harshly dismissed
the drooping Boritza to her chamber, and
motioned Etneric from his presence.
As she moyed away, in obedience to
the paternal mandate, the maiden passed
close beside her lover; and, and as their
. .
eyes met, he suddenly grasped her hand,
and whispered beneath his breath, "at
midnight, near the Fountain of the Tem p
lars--I will be there, Boritza." The
trembling girl answered him only by a
look, anti then, once more bowing to her
infuriated sire, she glided from the apart
ment.
It was the eve of the festival of St. Ste•
phen, and the avocations which it brought
with it to all the inhabitants of the chateau
enabled Boritza the more readily to elude
°bocci ation. The hours wore on, and, as
midnight approached, the maiden trem
bled, even amid all her love for Emetic
at the promise which she had tacitly giv
en, for there arose upon her memory eve
ry dark story that she had heard of the
spectre knights, who at that solemn hour
met beside the spring, to wail over the de.
parted glories of their order, and with
their blood stained swords bared in the
moonlight, to invoke vengeance on those
who had wrought their overthrow. Her
pulses throbbed as these tales rushed over
her brain ; she had been familiar with
them from her childhood; and she had
heard them with a perfect faith even as
they had been told.
The eleventh hour came at length, and
then the fond woman shook the idle
tremors of the girl, and thought only of
him she loved ; she forgot her terrors, and
seizing a pitcher, site waited until all was
silent throughout the chateau, and with
[WooLE No. 259
noiseless sups she stole forth, and hum
ed to the fountain.
The moon was up, and nearly at the
full ; the trees cast fantastic shadows on
her path, and the leaves whispered in the
wind like spirit•voices—but she had nei
ther eyes nor ears save for him who m she
sought; and he already waited her at the
'mystic spring. It was a sad meeting, for
they met only to part—tears were there,
hot and bitter tears, such as are rung from
young hearts when they first learn to suf
fer, which the world mocks without being
able to understand, and ends by turning
into gall. They vowed to each ether fi
delity even to the grave --a barren, profit
less fidelity, for they were never to meet
again; but it was almost happiness to be
lieve that they should at least be wretch
ed for each other's sake. They had a thou%
sand things to say—a thousand things to
ask--but they could only weep, and fold
their arms fondly each about the other,
and vow that from that hour their hearts
should never again beat with passion un.
til they were laid cold within the grave.
At length they parted. Ye who have
never loved, seek not to dream of such a
parting! 'Twere idle. vague, and empty
speculation. The enthusiast who, sick
with study, and pale with blighted hope,
withers his strength and drains his life
away in pursuit of the subtle secret by
which tie is to turn to gold the pebble on
his path, is nearer to the goal of his wild.
search, than ye to comprehend the agony
of two young hearts severed like theirs.
Smile on, and hug yourself in your cold
ignorance—ye have escaped a pang whose
memory no after-years can ever wear
away !
Eineric had pressed his lips to the lips
of his beloved, and then, maddened by
misery, he had hurried away, for he dared
not say Farewell! Mechanically forit
za plung ed her pitcher into the spring, and
when s he drew it back, rested it on the
border of the fountain, into which her
tears tell like rain. Suddenly a soft light
gleamed about her, a soft and silvery light
—it was like nothing that she had ever
seen before—day break was more shad
owy, sunrise more broad, the moon•rays
colder and less equal. Her heart beat
quickly, and glancing timidly around, she
saw beside her a form that she could nob
mistake. It was St. Stephen. The
crowned mitre was upon his brow, the cro
zier in his hund, and he was looking to
wards her with a smile. Her knees bent
under her, and her head drooped upon her
bosom.
"Fear not, fair girl," said a voice which
sounded like a summer wind when it mur
murs among flowers, "your innocence
guards you from the dangers which your
beauty might provoke. Weep no longer,
to.inorrow's sun will shine brightly to dry
your tears, and remember that the first
form which crosses y our path after that
sun has risen, will be the form of him to
whom your faith must be pledged for life.
Repine not, but nbey."
Boritza trembled, and fell prostrate to
the earth; and when she ventured once
more to raise her head and look around
her, she was alone. She murmured a
prayer and fled ; and although she dared
not hope that what she had seen was in
ldeed more than a vision of her excited
imagination, she felt happier than she had
been for many weeks. She wept, it is
true, but her tears had soothing in them ;
and when she slept she dreamed of Eme
rie and of the Saint, and awoke only to
believe that all must yet go well.
On the morrow at sunrise all the neigh
borhood was alive with pilgrims to the
shrine of St. Stephen, and among the rest
went Boritza, walking in silence between
her father and her mit. A shadow was
on the path even as the fair girl passed the
gates of Bolko's domain ; the rising sun
painted its outline in distinct and palpa
ble relief—it was Emeric!—Emeric, who
sought ouly a last look of his beloved, era
he fled forever alike his home and kis
country.
She said but one word to him as she
passed the spot where he stood, but that
word was "Hope," and then, heedless
alike of the angry tones of her father, the
shrill invectives of her hateful guardian,
and then the passionate questions of her
lover, she Ilew forward, and prostrated
herself before the shrine of the Saint.—
And the legend goes on to tell that her
faith met with its reward, for the noble
, sire of Emeric was ere long death•strick
en, and he had no child save him, and that
the avarice. of Bolko proved stroozer then
his pride, when he saw the young Count
at the feet of his daughter, and remember
ed that while his heart was full his hand
was not empty, but that broad lands sad
lair castles were coupled with his love.
And so it came to pass that lieu itza sad
Enteric were united at the altar of St.
Stephen ; and that, since that period, the
maidens of the district, on the eve of hie
solemn festival, dip their pitchers in the
water. and pray for as fair a fate as that
of Emeric's beloved, the tend, the rml,
land innocent Boritza.