VOL. VI, No. 1.1
rmnue
OF THE
itUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
The JOURNAL" will be published every
Wednesday morning, at two dollars a year,
If paid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid with
in six months, two dollars and a half.
Every person who obtains five subscribers,
and forwards price of subscription, shall be
Burnished with a sixth copy gratuitously for
•ae year.
Nu subscription received for a less period
%u m s ix months, nor any paper discontu.ned
•ntil all arrearages are paid.
}"All communications must be addressed
to the Elkin . , POST PAID, or they will not
be attended to.
Advertisements not exceeding one square,
will be inserted three times for one dollar,
and for every subsequent insertion, twenty
five cents per square will be chsrged. lino
definite 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
Odunlinadou Journal.
Ddniel Teague, Orbisonia; David Blair,
Esq. Shade Gall; Benjamin Lease, Shirlcys
burg; Eliel Smith. Esq. Chilcottstown; Jas.
Entriken, jr. Crffee Run; Hugh Madden,
Esq. Sprineidei; Dr. S. S. Dewey, Bir
mingham; lames Morrow, Union Furnace ;
John Sister, Warrior Mark; James Davis,
Esq. West townshift ; D. H. Moore,
Esq.
Frankstown; Eph. Galbreath, Esq. HOW
dayabure.; Henry Neff, Alexandria; Aaron
Burns, Williamsburg; A. J. Stewart, Water
Street; Wm. Reed, Esq. Morris townahip;
Soloman Hamer, fif eff Mill; James Dysart,
Mouth Sftruce Creek; Wm. Murray, Esq.
Grayaville; John Crum, Manor Hill; Jas.
E. Stewart, Sinking Valley; L. C. Kessler,
ilia/ Creek.
TREATMENT'.
The principal objects to be kept In view
are Ist, to free the stomach and intestines
fom offending materials. 2d. to imptove
the tone of the digestive organs and energy
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
istatic motions of the intestines to their regu
larity of health, than by irritating them to a
laborious excitement. fliere is no medicine
better adapted to the completion of this than
Dar. 0. P. HARLICII ' S GERMAN APERIENT
FILLS. To improve the functions of the de
bilitated organs and invigorate the system
eenerally, no medicine has ever been so
prominently efficacious as Dn. Harlich'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 most 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.
Principal office for the United States, is
No. 19 North Eighth street Philat:elphia
where all communications must be addres,
sed.
Also fur sale at the store of Jacob Miller
who is agent for Huntingdon County.
LIVER COMPL ;INT .
Cured by the use of Dr Harlich's Compound
Strengthening and German Aparient 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
tions, a distention of the stomach, sick
headache, furred tongue, countenance chang
ed to a eitron color, difficulty of breathing,
dlsturbed rest, attended with a cough, great
debility, with other sy atoms indicating great
derangement of the functiens of the liver.
Mr. Richard had the advice of several phy
sicians, but received no relief, until using Dr
1 ferlicli's medicine, which terminated in ef
fecting a perfect cure.
Principal aka, 19 North Eight stree
Philadelphia. [don Pa
Far sale at Jacob Miller's store Huntin
BRANDRETH ' S PILLS.—This medicine
is acknowledged to be one of the meet 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 proparties. 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
sa d his i LA are not paralysed—no; but
instead of these distreesing symptoms, i
new life and coi:sequent animation is evi
dent in every movetoent of the body.
Brandrettes Pills sic indeed a universal
remedy; because they cleanse and purify
the blood. Five years this medicine has
.been before the public in the United States
wherever it has been introduced, it has
superseded all other remedies.
Dr. B. Brandreth, No. 8 North Bth St
Philadelphia, Pa.
Purchase them in !WAITE% GDON,
sf WM. STEP ART, aid only in the
county, of agents published In another
part of this paper. Remember every
agent has a certificate of agency, dated
within the loot twelve months. If el On
whir 4014 to um init shim,
THE J I URINAL.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1840
PAIN OR WEAKNESS.
In all cases of pain and weakness,'
whether it be chronic or recent—whetl.er
it be deafness, or pain in the side—wheth
re it arise from constitutional, or from
some immediate cause—whether it be
from internal or external injury, it will
be cured by perservering in the use of
Ilrandreth-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
Item 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.
Mien constant exercise cannot be
sed, from any cause, the occasional use
of opening medicines, such an one as
I)randreth's Vtgetablr Unicersal!! rills,
is absolutely required. Thus the con
duits of the BLOOD, the; fountair, 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 frith
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. 0. P.
Harlicli'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 had to use his
crutches for 18 months, his symptoms were
excruciating pain in all his Joints, espt:cially
n his hip, Shoulders and ancles, pain increas •
ug al ways towards eyeing 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 1)r. Harlich's pill of which he
sent to the agent in West Chester• and pro
cured som; on using the medicine the third
day the pain disappeared snd 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 ~thers
afflicted, lie wishes those lines pu 2lished
that they may be relieved, and ar,in en
joy the pleasures of a healthy life.
Principle office, 19th North 8t..1 Street,
Philadelphia.
AT,so—For• sale at the Store of J cob Mil
ler, Huntingdon, Pa.
LIVER COMPLAINT.
This disease is discovered by a fixes' ob
tuse pain and weight in the right side under
the short ribs; attended with beat, uneasi
ness about the pit of the stomach ;—there is
in the right side also a distension—the patient
loses his appetite and becomes sick and trou• '
ble with vomiting. The tongue becomes
rough and black, countenance changes to a
pale or citron color or yellow, like those ;af
flicted with jaudice—difficulty of breathing,
disturbed rest, attended with dry caugh, dif
ficulty of laying on the left side—the oody
' becomes weak, and finally , the'diseasc termi
nates into another of a more serious nature,
which in all probability is far beyond the
power of human skill. 1)r Ilarlich's cem•
pound tonic strengthening and German ape
rient 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.
Certificates of many persons may daily be
seen of the efficacy of this invaluable medi
cine, by applying at the Medical Office, No
119 North Eight street, Philadelphia.
Also, at the Ftore of Jacob Miller, wo
agent for Huntingdon county.
DYSPEPSIA! DYs'PEPSIA ! !
More proofs of the efficacy of Dr. Harlich'
Medicines,
Mr Jonas Hartman, of Sumneytown, Pa.
entirely cured of the above disease, which
he 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, luss of appetite,
giddiness and dimness of sight, extreme de
bility, flatulency, acrid eructations, some
times vomiting, and pain in the right side,
depression of spirits. disturbed re►t, feint•
'less, and not able to pursue his business
withoutcausing immediate exhaustion and
weariness.
Mr. Hartman is happy to state to the pub
lie and is willing to give any information to
the afflicted, respecting the wonderful ben
efit he received from the use of Dr. Harlich
Compound Strengthening and German ape
rient pills. Principal office No. 19 North
Eighth street Philadelphia. Also for sale
nt the store of Jacob Miller, Huntingdon.
CAUSE OF DYSPEPSIA
This disease often originates from a hab,
of overloading or distendiug the stomach by
excessive eating or drinking, or very protrac
ted periods of fasting, an indolent or seden
tary life, in which no exercise is afforded to
the muscular fibres or mental faculties, fear
grief. and deep anxiety, taken too frequent
ly strong purgingmedicines, dysentery, mis
carriages, intermittent and syasmodic affec
tions of the stomach and bowels; the mo
common of the latter causes are late hour
and the too frequent use of spiritucs liquor
A. K, CORNYN
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
;iii ILL carefully attend to all business
committed to his care in the Courts
of Huntingdon & Mifflin counties. Mr. Cot.-
nyn may be found at his office, in Market
St., opposite the Store of Mr, Morris, in the
borough of Huntingdon.
Mum. hp. 9, 1149.
"ONE COUNTRY, ORE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
A. W. BENEDICT PUBLNSIIR.R AND PROPRIETOR.
POETRY.
From Burton's Gentleman'sMagnine ,
THE SACRIFICE.
By SPENCER W. CONE, ZSQ.
They told me I'd be happy
W I became his bride,
That wealth had store of pleasure,
When all things else denied.
I said, I could not love him!
They answered to my tears,
That love was fancy's shadcw,
But friendship grew with years.
Oh Gnd! forgive my madness:—
I listened to my pride,
And he who loved so poor a wretch,
A broken reed, bath died.
I stood before,.the altar:
1 did not dare to think;
But many eyes were on me,
And none should SEE me shrink.
And when the rites were ended,
My father kissed me first,
And told me I WAS happy!—
And this—this!—did rot burst;
For he who cursed the liar,
Set her, the mark of C idn;—
And when this heart was nearest broke,
He sexed it WHOLE again.
How many months have passed me,
Each slower seems to creep;—
And he—he yet speaks kindly,
And:asks me—why I:weep?-.-
Oh, piteous heaven, mercy !
Thou once dicl'st hear the cry,
Nor spurned the bitter anguish
Of one so frail as I ;
Oh! from this hourly trial,
This curse of false hood, save,
And give to my despair, at last,
A quiet, and a grave!
And they—they still are 'round me,
They who, for paltry gold,
To worse than shame or sorrow,
My woman's weakness sold.
They bow before the idol
Thus moulded to their will,
For, at the feast and banquet,
Each now may gorge his fill.
For this they sold my none,
But I my sour for pride,
For we were poor, and he was rich,
And lu! I am his bride!
The jeweled gauds that bought me,
Have adders in their glare;
My nights are hells of memory,
My days one great despair;
For in mine ear still hisses
The mocking of the dead—
Why laugh ye not?—you're wealthy,
And perjured, too!—and wed!—
Vet—yet I still am living,
II it be HUMAN life,
To live in thought a MURDERESS,
To live, indeed, a WIFE!
MISCELLANY.
The Phantom Portrait.
THE COUNT AND THE PEASANT
GIRL,
• SYBIL'S SKUTCH,
The autumn wind swung the branches
of the old trees in the avenue to and fro,
and howled amid the battlements —now
with a shriek, like that of the sufferer
whose frame is wrenched by sudden ago
ny. It was one of those dreary gales !
which bring thoughts of shipwreck, telling)
of the tall vessel, with her brave crew, tos
sing on the midnight seas, her masts fal
len, her sails rived, her guns thrown over
board, and the sailors holding a fierce revs
el, to shut out the presence of death ri
ding the black wave around them, or of
a desolate cottage upon some lone sea
beach, a drifted boat upon the rocks, and
the betrayed widow weeping over the
dead.
Lucy Ashton turned shivering from the,
casement. She had watched the stars one
by one, sink beneath that heavy cloud,
which, pall I ike, had spread over the sky,
till it quenched even that last and lovely
•ne with which • in a moment of maiden
phantasy, she had linked her fate.
"For signs and fur seasons are they,"
said the youthful watcher, as she closed
the lattice. —"My light feet will soon be
hidden, my little hour soon passed."
She threw herself into the arm chair
beside the hearth, and the lamp light Mt
upon her beautiful but delicate face from
which the rose had lung since departed;
the blue veins were singularly distinct on ,
the clear temples. and in the eye was
that uncertain brightness which owes not
its lustre to health. Her pale golden
hair was drawn up in a knot at the top of
her small and graceful head, and the rich
mass shone as we fancy shone the bright
tresses of an angel. The room was large
lofty and comfortless, with cornices of
black carved oak, in the midst stood a
huge purple velvet bed, having a huge
bunch of hearse-like feathers at each cor
ner; the walls were old, and the tapestry
shook with every current of the pressing
air, while the motion gave a mockery of
life to its gaunt and faded group. The
suject was mythological—the sacrifice of
Niobe's children. There were the many
shapes of death, from the young warrior
to the laughing child; but all struck by the
same inexplicable fate. One figure in par
' tieular caught Lucy's eye; it was a youth
ful female, and she thought it resembled
herself; the outline of the face certainly
did, though "the gloss had dropped from
the golden hair," of the pictured sufferer.
%ud yet," murmured Lucy, "far hap
pier than I! The shaft that struck her in
youth did its work at wire; but I bear tiie
arrow in my heart that destro, - s me not
Well, well, it's time will come."
The flickering light of an enormous
chimney—whose hearth was piled with
tort and wood, now flung its long and va
riable shadows round the chamber;—and
figures on the tapestry scorned animated
with strange and ghastly life. Lucy felt
their eyes fixed upon her, and the thought
of death came cold and terrible.
Ar•; be resigned, be hopeful, be brave as'
we will, death is an awful thing. The
nailing down in that close black coffin,
the lowering into the darksome grave--
the damp mould, with its tearful dwel •
lers, the slimy worm and the loathsome
reptile, to be U•an-lpclled upon you—these
are the realities of dread and disgust!
And then to die in youth—life unknown,
unenjoyed; no time to satiate of its pleas
ures, to weary of its troubles, to learn its
wretchedness—to feel that you wish to
live a little longer, that you could be hap
"And," added the miserable girl, "to
know that he loves me—that he will
kneel in the agony of last despair by my
grave?" But no, noOliey say he i , s vow
ed to another--a tall, dark, stately beau
ty. W hat am 1, that ile should be true to
me?"
She wrung her hands, but the paroxysm
was only transitory, and fixing her eyes on
the burning i log, she sat listlessly watching
the dancing name that kept struggling
through the smoke.
"gay I come in, Miss Ashton?" said a
voice at the door, and without waiting for
answer, an old crone entered. She ap.
proached the hearth, placed in a warm
nook a tankard of mulled wine and a plate
of spiced apples, drew a low cushioned
' settee forward, seated herself, and whis
pered in a subdued, yet hissing tone, "I
thought you world be lonely; so I came
up for half an hour's chat; it is the very
night for some of your favorite stories."
Lucy started from her recumbent posi
tion, cast a glance round, and seemed for
the first time concious of her companions
presence.
"Ah, is it you dame Allston?" Sooth it
is but a dreary evening, and I am glad of
a companion—these old rooms are so gloo
my. ”
"You may well say so, for they have
many a gloomy meteor); the wife has
wept for her husband, and the mother for
• her child; and the hand of the son has
been against his father, and that of the
father against his son. Why, look at
yonder wainscot, sec you dark stains
there? In this very room —"
"Not in this room; tell me nothing of
this room," half scream:ll the girl, as she
turned from the direction in which the
nurse pointed. "I sleep here; I shall see
it every night; tell me of something far,
far,,a‘v,,caiV "
i: dear it is only to amuse
you. It shall not be of this room, nor of
this house, nor even of this country; will
that please you?"
Lucy gave n slight inclination of the
head, and again fixed her eyes steadily
on the bright and sparkling fire; means
time the old woman took a draught front
the tankard, disposed herself comfortably
in her seat, and began her story, in that
hat sh and hissing voice which rivets the
hearing whereon it grates.
"Marty, many years ago, there was a
fair peasant, so fair, that from her child
hood all her friends prophecied it could
lead to no good. When she came to six
teen, the count Ludolf thought it was a
pity such a beauty should be wasted,
and therefore took possession of it—bet
ter that the lovely should pine in a castle
than flourish in a cottage. ller mother
died brokenhearted; and her father left
the neighlmrhood, with a curse upon his
disobedient girl 'vho had brought desola
tion to his hearth and dame to his old
age. Is needs little to tell that such a
passion grew cold—it were a long tale
that accounted for the fancies of a young
rich and reckless cavalier; and after all
nothing changes as soon as love."
...Love!" murmured Lucy, in a low
voice, as if unconcious of the interrup
tion; love, which is our fate, like fate
must be immutable. How can the heart
forget its young religion?"
"Many," pursued the sybil, ..can for
get, and do and will forget. As for the
count, his heart was cruel with prosperi•
ty, and selfish with good fortune; he had
never known sickness which softens—
sorrow, which brings all to its own level
—poverty which, however, it may at last
harden the heart, at first teaches us our
helplessness.— W hat was it to him that
Bertha had left the home which could
never receive her again? What, that for
his sake she had submitted to the appear
ance of disgrace that was not in reality
hers—for the peasant girl was as proud
as the count; and when she stepped over
her father's threshold it was as his wife.
Well, well, be wearied, as men ever
weary of woman's complaining, however
bittern ay be the injury which has wrung
reproach from the unwilling lip, Many a
sad hour did she spend weeping in the
lonely tower, which had once seemed to
her like a palace—for then the radiance
of love was around it—and love, forsooth
is something like faries in our own land;
for a time it can make all that is base and
worthless seem most glittering and pre
cious. Once every night brought the ring
ing horn and eager step of the noble hun
ter; now the nights passed away too often
in dreary and unbroken splendor. Yet
the shining steel of the shield in the hall,
and theifair current of the mountain spring
showed her that her face was lovely as ev
er.
One evening he came to visit her, and
his manner was soft and his voice was low
as in the days of olu. Alas !of late she
had been accustomed to the unkind look
and the harsh word.
'../t is a lovely twilight, my Bertha,"
said ins to unmoor our little
bark, and we will sail down the river."
With a light step and still lighter heart
she descended the rocky rtairs, and reach
ed the boat before her companion. The
white sail was soon spread, they sprang
in; and the slight vessel went rapidly
through the stream. At first the waves
were crimson, as it freighted with rubies,
the last love gift of the dying sun, for they
were sailing direct to the west. which
! was one flush, like a sra of blushing
wine, Gradually the tints became paler,
shades of soft pink just tinged the far oft'
clouds, and a delicate lilach fell on the
waters. A star or two shone pure and
bright in the sky, and the only shadows
' were flung by a few wild rose trees that
sprang from the chills of the rocks. By
degrees the drooping flowers disappeared
—the stream grew narrower, and the sky
became darker; a few soft clouds soon
gathered into a storm; but Bertha heeded
them not; she was too earnestly engaged
in entreating her husband that he would
'acknowledge their secret marriage. She
spoke of the dreary solitude to which she
was condemned; of her wasted youth,
worn by the fever of continual anxiety.
'Suddenly she stopped in fear--it was so
'gloomy around; the steep banks nearly I
closed overhead; and the boughs of the
old pines which stood in the tempest
' cleft hollows, met in the air, and cast a
darkness like that of night upon the rap
id waters, which hurried on as if they dis
turbed their gloomy passage.
—At this moment Bertha's eye caught
the ghastly paleness of her husband's face i
terribly distinct; she thought that he fear
ed the rough torrent, and fo rher sake;
tenderly she leaned towards him— his
arm grasped her waist, but not in love;
he seized the wretched girl and flung her
overboard, with the name of God upon
lies lips, appealing to for his sake! Twice
her bright head--Bertha had ever gloried 1
in her sunny curls, which now fell in wild
profusion on her shoulders--twice did it I
emerge from the wave--her faint hands •
were spread abroad for help, he shrunk
from the last glance of her despairing
eyes--then a low moan; a few bubbles of
foam rose on the stream; and all was still;
but it was the stillness of death. An in
stant after, the thunder burst from above,
the peal reverberated from cliff to cliff,
the lightning slave the black depths of the
storm, the billows rose in tumultuous ed
dies; but Count Ludolf 's boat cut its
way through, and the vessel arrived at
the open river.
No trace was there of the storm; the
dewy wild flowers filled the air with
their fragrance, and the moon shone over
them pure and clear, as if she had no sym
pathy with human sot row, and shuddered
not at human crime. And why should
she? We might judge her by ourselves;
what care we fur crime in which we are
not involved, and for sulnring in which
we have no part?
The red wine cup was drained deep
rand long in Count Ludoirs castle that
[WnoLis No, 261
night. and soon after, its master travelled
afar into other lands—there was not pleas
ure enough fbr him home. He found
that bright eyes could gladden even the
ruins of Rome—and V enice became his
chosen city ft was as if revelry delight
ed in the contrast which the dark rube,
the gloomy canal, and the death black goe
dola, offered to the orgies which made
joyous her midnights.
"And did lie feel no remorse?" asked
Lucy.
"Remorse!" said the crone with a scorn
ful laugh; "remorse is the word for a
child, or for a fool—thelunpunished crime
is never regretted. We weep over the
consequences, not over the fault." Count
/Adolf soon found another lover This
time his passion was kindled by a picture
but one of a most strange and thrilling
beauty, a portrait, the only unfaded one in
a deserted palace situate in an eastern
leaune. Day after day he went to gaze on
the exquisite face and the large black
eyes till they seemed like his own. But
the festival of San Marco was no time for
idle fantasies, and the Count was among
the gayest of the revellers. Amid the ma
ny masks which he followed, was one that
finally rivetted his attention. Her light
step seemed scarcely to touch the ground
and every now and - then a dark curl oe
two of raven softness escaped the veil; at
last the mask itself slipped aside, and he
saw the countenance of his beautiful in
cognita. lie addressed her, and her an
swers, in brief, were at least encouraging
—he followed her to a gondola,which they
entered together. It stopped at the steps
of the palace he supposed deserted,
" Will you come with iner said she, in
a voice whose melancholy was as the lute
when the night wind wakes its music;
and as lie stood by the sculptured lions
which kept the entrance, the moonlight
tell on her lovely face-- lovely as if Ti
tian had painted it.
"Cauld you doubt?" said Ludolf, as he
caught the extended hand, "neither heav
en or hell should keep me from thy side!"
And here I cannot choose but law
at the exaggerated pleasures of lovers
why a stone wall or a steel chain miglt
have kept him away at that very mo
ment. Irliey passed through many a
gloomy room dimly seen in the moon
shine till they came to the picture Oleo
ry, which was splendidly illuminated--
and strange contrast to its usual desolas
tion, theme was spread a most magnificent
banquet.
The warm tapers burned in their goldea
candlesticks; the lamps were lid with
perfumed oil, and many a chrystal vase
was filled with rare flowers, till the atm°,
phere was heavy with fragrance. Piled
up in mother of pearl baskets, the pur
ple grapes had yet the morning dew upon
them; and the carved pine reared its eme
rald crest beside peaches, like topazes in
a' sunset. The count and the:lady sest
ed themselves on a crimson ottoman; one
white arm leaned negligently, contrasted
with the warm color of the velvet; but ex
tending the other towards the table, she
took a glass; at her sign the count filled
it with wine.
"Will you pledge me?" said she, teach
ing the cup with her lips, and passiug it
to him. He drank it—for wine and ai■
seemed alike freighted with the oder of
her sign.
"My beauty!" exclaimed /Adolf, de
taining the ivory hand.
"Nay count," returned the stranger, in
that soft and peculiar voice, more like
music than langnage—l know how yon
hold the lover's vow."
"I never loved till now!" exclaimed ha,
impatiently; "name, rank, jtortune, life.
soul, are your own."
"She drew a ring from her hand, and
placed it on his, leaving here in hi.; clasp."
"Mat will you give me in exchange—
this" and she took the diamond cross of art
order which he wore.
"Ay, and by my knightly faith will
and redeem it at your pleasure."
"It was her hand which now grasped
his; a change passed over her lace. I
thank you, my sister, in death for your
likeness, said she, in an altered voice,
turning to where the portrait had hung.
For the first time the count observed that
the frame was empty. Her grasp tights
end upon him; It was the bony hand of a
skeleton. 'The beuty vanished; the face
grew a familiar one—it was that of Berta!
The floor became unstable like water; ho
felt himself sinking rapidly—again he
rose to the surface; he knew the gloomy
pine trees over his head; the grasp on his
hand loosened; he saw the lair head cf
Bertha gasp in its death agony amid the
wa•ers, the blue cyesimet his; the stream
flung her towards hint; her arms closed
around his neck with a deadly weight;
down, down they sank beneath the dark
river together— and to eternity."
A blind man having a shrew for hia
wife, was told that ghe was a rose. I
doubt it not, replied he, for 1 teal the
therng.