The journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1839-1843, February 24, 1841, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    VoL• VI, No. 11 .]
zmnrao
OF THE
HUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
Th " JOURNAL" will be published every
We'lnzsi sy morning, at two dollars a year, i
if p Aid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid with
in six in mths, two dollars and a half.
Ev..try vrson who obtains five subscribers,
and forw Ards price of subscription, shall he
fir:ll4 l ml with a sixth copy gratuitously for
.me year.
N c sibszription received for a less period
x 'ninths, nor any paper discontmued
antil 11l arrearages are paid.
;17 - \ll commutilcitions must be addressed
to thi E lit, e, P )ST PAID, or- they will not
be attended to.
Adve , tisemr.nts not exceeding one square,
will he inserted three t i mes for one dollar,
and for every subsequent insertion, twenty
five cents per square will be charged. Hon
definite orders are given as to the time an
advertisement is to he continued, it will be
kept in till ordered out, and charged actor
- (Jingly.
AG ENTS.
FO
The lla u ?ingdon Journal.
Daniel Teague, Orbisonia; David Blair,
Esq. Shade Gap; L enj :unin Lease, Shirleys
burg.; Eliel Smith. Esq. Chiteottstown; Jas.
Ent' ilcen, jr. Ceiree Run; Hugh Madden,
Esq. Springfield; 1)r. S. S. Dewey, Bir
mingham; J ain ,s Morrow, Union Furnace ;
John bisler, Warrior Mark; James Davis,
Esq. West township ; D. H. Moore, Esq
Frankstonm; ELM. Gilbreath, Esq. Holli
daysbur4:: Henry Neff, Alexandria; Aaron
Burns, Williamsburg; A. J. Stewart, Water
Street; Wtn. Reed, Esq. Ma • ris township;
Solomon Hamer, Aeff's Mill; James Dysart,
Mouth Spruce Creek; ‘Vni. Murray, E•q.
Graysoille; John Crum, Manor Hill; Jas.
E S,ewart, Sinking Valley; L. C. Kessler,
Mill Creek.
ORPHANS' COURT SALE
N a r s c u a o cof
r t e
of anorder ,l of. the
Huntingdon
n coun ty,o, 0 ip
•
will be exposed to sale by public vendue
or outcry, on the premises, on
Monday, the Ist day of March,
next, the following described reel estate,
late the property of Abraham Vandevan
der, dec'd., to wit:—The undivided hail
part of a tract of land in the township of
Henderson, in said county, composed of
two adjoining surveys, one in the name of
Daniel Ign, the other in the name of Ste•
phen Duncan and James McAllister, ad
joining land of John McComb on the east,
other land of said dec'd. on the north and
west, and adjoining the Juniata river on
the south, containing about
135 Acres, and 18 perches,
of which about S 5 acres are cleared, hav
ing a cabin house and stable, and some
fruit trees thereon.
Terms of Sale.—One half of the pur
chase money to be paid or, the confirma
tion of the sale, and the residue in one
year thereafter with interest, to be secu•
red by the bond and mertgage of the pur
chaser.
JOIN REED, Clerk.
Attendanee will be given at the time
and place of sale, by the undersigned,
Administrator of said deceased.
PETER SM/OPE, Adm'r,
Jan. 27, 1891.
i'LwR. Compound Syrup of Pru
nus of Virginana or wild Cherry
This syrupis highly beneficial in all peels
ral affections; also, in diseases of the cheo
n 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. flow many sufferers do we
gaily behold approaching to an untimely
Brave, wrested in the bloom of youth from
heir 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; if such
sufferers would cnly make a trial of Dr.
Swayne's invaluable medicine, they would
soon find themselves benelitted; than by
gulphing the various ineffective certain
remedies of which our newspapers daily
abound. This syrup immediately begins
to heal the ulcerated lungs, stopping pre -
fuse night swtats, mititigating the distre -
sing cough at the same time inducing a
healthy and natural expectoration, also t e
lieving the shortness of breath and pa'
in the chest, which harrass the sufferer t
the slightest exercise, and finally the he
tic flash in the pallid and emaciated cheek
will soon begin to vanish, and the sufferer
will here peceive himself snatched from a
premature grave, into the enjoyment again
of comfortable health.
For sale at Jacob Miller's store 11-
Fee Bills for sale
at this Office.
, .
:: „.„4, :: ; A
, ,:,
~ ~.
..,,.
4,`
' '•
,
•
Lw.,- ••; •
POE:FRY.
The following is from the pen of one of
the most gifted poets of the day, the Louis
ville Amelia.
From the Louisville Journal.
MELODIA.
BY 'AMELIA?
I met once in my girlish hours,
A creature soft and warm—
Her cottage bonnet, filled with flowers,
Hung swinging on her arm ;
Her voice was sweet as the voice of love,
And her teeth were pure as pearls, [dove,
While her forehead lay like a snow—white
In a nest of nut-drown curls ;
She was a thing unknown to fame—
Melodia, was her strange sweet name.
I never saw an eye so bright,
And yet so soh as hers ;
It sometimes swam in liquid light,
And sometimes swam in tears;
It seemed a beauty set apart
For softness and for sighs ;
But oh! Melodies melting heart,
Was softer than her eyes ;
For they were only formed to spread
The softness tram her spirit shed.
I've gazed on many a brighter face,
But ne'er on one for years,
Where beauty lett so soft a trace.
As it had left on hers ;
Bet who can paint the spell that wove
A brightness round the whole;
'Twould take an angel from above
To paint the immortal soul—
To trace the light, the inborn grace,
The sparkling o'er the youthful face.
Her bosom was a soft retreat
For love, and love alone,
And yet her heart had never beat
I'o love's delicious tone ;
It dwelt within its circle free
From tender thoughts like these,
Waiting the little deity,
As the blossom waits the breeze,
Before it throws it leaves apart,
And trembleslik,, the love-touched heart,
She was a creature strange ma fair,
First mournful and then wild,
Now laughing on the clear bright air
As merry as a child,
Then melting down as soft as even,
Beneath some new corm of ;
She'd throw her hazel eyes to Heayen.
And s ng with all her soul,
Intones as rich as some young birds
Warbling her own delightful words.
Meloclia! oh. how soft thy darts,
How gentle and how sweet!
Thy song enchained a thousand hearts,
And drew them to thy feet ;
And as thy bright lips sang, they caught
So beautiful a ray,
That, as I gazed, I almost thought
The spirit of the lay
Had left, while melting on the air,
Its sweet expression p.inted there.
Sweet vision of that starry even!
Thy virgin beauty yet,
Next to the blessed hope of Heaven,
Is in my spirit set ;
It is a something shrined apart—
A light from memory shed,
Tolive until this tender heart
On which it lives is dead,
Remin ling me of brighter hours,
Of summer eves, and summer flowers.
A Secret worth knowing.
"Truth is strange—stranger than fiction."
Under this heading the Long Island
Star, publishes an interesting tale, for the
extended details of which, we cannot
find room. But must content ourselves
with giving the leading facts in a conden•
sed form, for the benefit of our readers.
A young grocer of good character and
correct habits, commenced business in a
good and improved neighborhood. His
stock was small, as were his means, and
his stock of customers were still smaller.
His sales hardly met his expenses, and he
was evidently going "down hill," and an
old grocer on the opposite corner predic
i ted that he would soon be at the button.
The young man had reason to regret
this opinion of the old grocer, ag will ap-
pear. The latter had a daughter who
had won the heart of the former. He of
fered himse fto her and was rejected. It
was done, howeyer, with the assurance
that he was the man of her choice, but
that she acted in obedience to her father's
sommands.
"ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONR DESTINY."
A. W. BENEDICT PIU'BIASIIER AND PROPRIETOR.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1841.
Assured of the affections of the wo
man of his choice, he set himself about
removing the only obstacle in the way of
their union—the father's objection to his
pecuniary prospects. * * *
A year had elapsed, and to ! what a
change ! The young grocer was now go
ing up hilt with the power of a steam to
coinotive--customers flocked to his store
from all quarters, and even many had left
the old established stand on the opposite
corner, for the younger favorite. There
was a mystery auout it which puzzled the
old grocer sorely, but which he could nut
unravel. He at :length became nearly
siLk with losses and aggravations, and
vain attempts to discover the secret 01
his neighbor's success.
At this juncture, A ngelica--for that
was the daughter's name—contrived to
bring ;about an, apparently, accidental in
terview between the parties. After the
old man had become, through the inter
vention of the daughter, tolerably good hu
mored, he inquired with great earnestness
of the young man, how he had contrived
to effect so much in a single year, to thus
extend his business and draw oft the cus•
turners from older stands.
'the young man evaded an answer-1
but inquired it he had further objection.
to his union with Angelica. "Nuner
replied he, "provided you reveal the se. l
cret of your success." This the young
man promised, when his happiness was
maJe complete. The old man commen
ded his prudence on this point. The af
fair was all settled and the marriage soon
took place.
The friends of the young couple were
all assembled, and among them, many of
the customers of the two stores. Angeli
ca and Thomas looked as happy as well
could be, and the old gentleman was, if
possible, happier than they. The bridal
cake was about to be cut, when the old
man called out for "THE SECRET "
"Ave, the secret," "the secret" exclai•
toed fifty others.
"It is a very simple matter," says
Thomas,"l ADVERTISE": l!
The old gentleman was very. very old
fashioned, and while he shook Thomas
heartily b) the hand, and kissed Angelica
fifty tunes over, he merely muttered,
"Why the dickens didn't I think of that."
An Amusing Specimen of
Humanity.
Whoever travels through any of the
New England States, and twigs, as he
journies, the eccentricities of some of the
NATIVES, cannot fail to be amused; and
may ;I he chooses, derive many new ideas
in respect to etymology and diversity of 1 1
character.
Some years since an acquaintance of
ours set out on horseback, from the eastern
part of Massachusetts, to the Green
Mountains of Vermont. While travel-,
ling through the town of New Salem, his
road led into a piece of woods some five
miles in length, and long before he got
out of which he began to entertain doubts
whether he should be blest with the sight
of a human habitation; but all things
must have an end, and so at last had the
woods, and the nut brown house of a far• 1
tner greeted his vision. Near the road
was a tall, raw-boned, over-grown, tan- i
tern jewel buy, probably seventeen years '
of age, digging potatoes. He was a curi
ous figure to behold. What was lacking ;
lin the length of kis low breeches, wit; am. !
(ply made up for behind ; his suspenders
appeared to be made of birch bark, grape
vine, and sheep akin; and as for his hat,
which was of dingy white felt, poor thing)
it hail once evidently seen better days, but
alas: it was only the shadow of its glory.,
Whether the tempest of time had beaten
the top in, or the lad's expanding genius
had burst it out, was difficult to tell; at
any rate it was missing—and through the
aperture red hair in abundance stood six'
ways for Sunday. In short he was one
of the roughest specimens of domestic
manufacture, that ever mortal beheld.--
Our travelling freed, feeling an itching to
scrape acquaintance with the critter, drew
up the reins of his bridle and began.
"Hallo, my good friend, can you inform
' me how far it is to the next house?"
Jonathan started up—leaned on his hoe
handle —rested one toot on the gambrel of
his sinister leg, and replied :
"Hullo yourself how'd dew? \Val,
just can. 'Taint near so fur as it used to
he 'fore they cut the woods away—then
'twas generally reckon'd four miles, but
now the sun shrivels up the road, and
don't make more'n tew. fust house
you come to tho' is a barn, and the next
is a hay-stack; but old Iloskin's house is
beyaut. You'll be sure to meet his gals
lung afore you git there; tarnal rompin'
critturs, they plague our folks more'n a
little. His sheep git into our poster eve
ry day, and his gals in our orchard. Dad
sets the dog arter the sheep, and me arter
the gals•—and the way we make the wool
and the petticoats fly is a sin to snakes."
, 'I see you are inclined to be facetious'
young man—pray tell me how it happens
that one of your legs is shorter than the
other?"
"I never 'lows any body to meddle with
my grass tanglers, mistur; but seein' its
you, I'll tell ye. I was born so at my 'tic
kler request--so when I hold a plough I
can go with one loot in the fuirer, and
'tother on land, and nut lop over ; besides
it's very convenient when ; “tow round a
side hill."
"Very good, indeed—how do your po•
tatoes come on this year?"
'They don't come o■ at all, t digs 'em
out—and there's an everlastin' snarl on
'en, in each hill."
"But they are small, I perceive."
"Yes, I know it--you see we planted
some whappin' blue noses over in that ere
patch there, and they flourished so all
tiredly that these stopt giowin' just out
o' spite, 'cause they kuow'd they could'ut
begin to keep up." . .
''You appeat:to be pretty smart, and 1
should think you could afford a better hat
than the one you wear."
"The looks ain't nothin', its all in the
behavior. Ibis ere hat was my relil,ioas
Sunday-go•to-meetin' hat, and it's jilt as
chuccull o' pity now as a dog is full u'
flees. I've gut a better one to hum, but
don't dig taters in it, no how."
"You have been in these parts some
time, 1 should guess":"
guess so tew. 1 was born',] and got
my brot'in up in that ere house: but my
native place is down in Porttunk."
"Then you say it's about three and a
half miles to the next house?"
"Yes sir; 'twas a spell a go, and I don't
believe it's grow'd much shorter since."
"Much obliged—good bye."
"Good bye to ye; that's a darn slick
mare o' yourn."
There reader—there is a Jonathan for
you of the first water. You don't find his
equal every where.
The following article, from a late En
glish paper, is amusing, and is character
istic o! the freedom with which the press
of that country speak of their sovereign
rulers. Our readers can believe just as
little of it as they please.
The Royal liaby.
We are betraying a confidential private
correspondence in making public the fol
lowing important event which took place
in the royal nursery, and very much fear
we shall lose our correspondent at the pa
lace by so doing, but, being in possession
of so interesting a fret, we cannot resist
the temptation to treat public .h curiosity
with the gossip.
It seems that young Albert had been
dining :ate, and sitting long, and as he
drained his draughts of Rhenish down,
he very innocently became slightly obvi
ous of sublunary affairs. Paternal fund
ness induced him to seek the nursery be
t Ore retiring to rest, where great conster
nation was occasioned by his unfortunate
ly upsetting the cradle and tumbling the
little heiress out upon the floor. There
was instantly a great screaming and run •
ring about of the maids of honor, and in
rushed her majesty, presenting a picture
much like the tragic heroine in the Critic,
when she enters raving mad in white sat
in! Seventeen nurses and nine of the
maids of honor were endeavoring to lift
the young husband of the Queen on to his
legs, while all the rest of the royal house
hold were stuffing towels and various
other things into the infant's mouth to stop
its squalling.
"You!" said the Queen, upon seeing
the condition of her lord and subject.
"My love!" replied the nice young
man, speaking somewhat thickly, while
twenty-three ladies were holding him up
l on his feet.
"Maul" exclaimed Victoria, casting an
indignant and withering glance at the un
fortunate Albert. By this time twenty
seven surgeons, the same number of phy
sicians, upwards of seven royal apotheca•
ries, and the whole sixty-nine nurses, all
of whom had been summoned in hut haste,
had assembled in the nursery. For a
long time a breathless and solemn silence
prevailed, contrasting awfully with the
wild uproar which preceded it, and bro
ken only by the subs of the infant, and the
hiccoughs of Prince Albert. The physi
cians and surgeons deliberated, while the
afflicted Queen stood by in anxious solici
tude. At length the chief surgeon opened
his lips and declared that the child was
nut dead, upon which the child rpened its
mouth and gave a lusty squall. Dr. La
cock then proceeded with a prolonged ex
amination of little Regina, giving it at
last as his settled opinion that no bones
were broken, and no internal injury suft
ered ; upon which the three hundred la
dies of the royal bedchamber and nursery,
lifted their eyes to die ceiling, crossed
their hands upon their breasts, and gave a
simultaneous aspiration of gratitude.—
Here was a remarkable instance of the
profound skill .1 the extraordinary Dr.
Lacock, as the child had sunk into sweet
and placid slumber, when the decision of
"no bones broken" was made.
The Queen was now leaving the apart
ment, when there was a bustle among the
thirty pule ladies who were holding up
Prince Albert. An angry spot appeared
on Victoria's cheek, which it seems the
ladies understood, lur they all scattered
instanter, and the Prince went staggering
along after his royal bride. Our inform.
ant states that the last thing heard, as the
royal chamber door closed, was Albert
in
qun•ing of the Queen, "flow is the blessed
baby?" alter which sounds followed as of
one person beating another with a shoe,
but they were so indistinct that none
could determine whether or not such an
operation did occasion the noise. The
whole alThir has been hushed up and con
fined within the palace, so that the Lon
don papers have not got hold of the story.
From the New York Express.
11 e commend the following letter of our
respected friend Nlajor Downing, to "the
croakers, and rankers," and we can only
say, if any one feels chilled by the pres
ent cold and duck aspect of things, he
may seek and find a leading cause in the
"etarnal poking" system mhich seems to
have suited the policy of certain circles,
and who have tound a ready and phaat
press to aid them in their patriotic efforts.
e commend this letter especially to
"oil Pennsylvany," and if she is willing
to have her fires poked out, be it so—she
will not say that she was not timely cau
tioned. Hut, let us not be disheartened,
the coal is unconsumed —a little kind
ling woad and a blowei will restore the
steady warmth, and then keepin the po
ker aloof, or in skilful hands alone, we
may still enjoy the comforts of a wide
circle around a genial fire.
PHILADELFT. 9th Feb A.D. 1841.
To the Ed tors of my old friend Mr
Dwight's paper. that he used to take
the lead on a spell ago.
GENTLEMIFS/-1 suppose you will be
considerable wonderated to know what
on airth lead me from the track to IPash- ,
ington with the old hero of the North !
Rend cabin, an .I biting me here,—well,
I'll tell you,
I anti the Gineral was a drifting along
down from the west, and bowing and shit
king off the everlasting crowd of folks'
all the way from the Ohio, till we struck!
along the edge of old Pentisylvany, when
we heard folks beginning to talk about
, hard money, and paper money, and res
su option, and suspension, and things of!
that natur, when says I, ' , Cinema you
may depend there is trouble brewing some
wheres along here, and if you say so,"
says jist quit you for a shell and !
take a turn down to Phil:Welly, rind look
; into the matter a little, - and jine you at
F; ashington." "Well," says he "Major,'
seeing as how folks begin to thicken a
mazingly around us, my calklation is you
won't be much mist, but see that you git
to NVa siting, on as noun as possible, and in
the mean time let me know all you meet
with worth hearing,"—and so I quit, and
so the Gineral never wants to know noth
ing more than the people know themselves
I send you this letter to print, and you
'will please send a copy on't to the Giner
al, so that lie will know as much as other
I folks do about it.
I got here last evening, jist ar'er lamp
lighting, and took a run round to all the
Banks to see if I could find any one on
'em open; but 1 lound 'eni all locked tip
and bright lamps burning afore the doors,
and good strong broad-shouldered watch.
men standing at their posts w ith clubs
and rattles jis for all the world as tho'
the Banks was as full of specie payments
as ever, and not a mite of difti.rence,
I stopt and had a leetie talk witn one
of these watchmen, and says l, "stranger.
is there no girths in here to see folks?"
"Not to-night," says he, "all the Banks I I
are shut." "Ilow you talk," says I, and
so I streaked it raund to Squire Biddle's p •
wemeses for I had a notion if I could
only git a fair talk with Squire, I would
learn pretty much all about the matter.
I found the Squire to hum, and he was
amazin glad to see me; and he and I went
right up into a room alone, where I found
a good wares Lehigh coal fire burning,
and a table kivered with papers; and he
took one chair and I another, and we went
at it strait oft. "So," says I, "Squire,
you are all suspended again, I lams." 'Yes'
says be, "Major, the folks who wanted
hard money have got all the Banks had
to give them; and as the Banks can't coin
hard money, and can only git it from the
folks who owe them, it turns out that, as
the Banks have notgut the same power
by the law to make folks pay them as fast
as the other folks want it, the pond must
run dry for a spell."
"But," says I, "Squire, how on airth is
it that things work so that one set of folks
keep drawmg out of the spiggot taster
than other talks pour into the bung-hold
[WIJou& No. 04.
Things waent so in Mr. Adams' time.
says I. "Now, how is it?" This set the
Squire scratching his head and thinking—
and to give him time to answer, I took
the poker and began poking up his Lehigh
cool fire, to see if there was any blaze us
it; and to rights says he, "Major what Ivo
I you doing that fire fo 1 Do you expvt
to make it burn brighter? If you will
take my advice," says he, "yon will let it
alone. Amt the room warm enuf ?" "Yes"
vsys I, it's warm enuf, but a little poking
wont do any harm, will it?"
"Well," says he, "you go on poking,
and you will see,"—and sure enuf, the
more I poked, the darker the fire and
coal got; and bime-by it all went out.
"Well," says I, "Squire, this is a olagy
odd kind of fire of your'n," says I. ;Yes'
says he, "it's Pennsylvany Coal; it wont
stand poking, Major,—it you let it alone,
it will burn slowly and surely, and give
out comfortable heat,—but if folks go to
poking at it, it turns and looks black at
them, and gives them a cold shiver."
" Well," says I, "Squire, / want you to
answer and explain to me now about this
Bank matter. llow is it," says I, "that
all your Banks have suspended sFecie
payments—all broke--all gone to everlas
Ong and etarbal smash? Now, how has
all this come about?" says I.
"Well," says he. "Major, I'll tell you.
In the first place, when you first entered
this room, did'nt you find it warm and
comfortable, and a good fire burning ?—
did'nt you take up that poker and begin
to poke with it?—did'nt I give you is cavil
hint to let it alone?—did'nt you continue
poking and poking, till at last the fire
went out?—and aint this room now cold
and dark, compared to what it was? Now
come here,"—and he took a candle and
went up to the fire-place: and says he.
"There is the coal yet,—it aint burnt up,
—the fire has only gone out; I can put a
little kindling under it, and clap on the
blower, and in a little while you will see
as bright and warm a fire as before,—but
where is the use of kindling up again tic.
less folks will see the folly of poking at it.
It is just so in Banking matters. 1 tried
it, and for sixteen years and over, and no
people in creation ever saw a warmer and
better fire than 1 kept up, it warmed all
kind of folks, too; the circle around it was
I wide enuf to admit every living critter in
the country, and all equally felt the
I warmth. But then began the poking sus
Item. I tried every means to prevent it,
but it was of no use—and then I quit, and
Mr. Dunlap he tried it; but the pokers
were still ready—snd no sooner was it
kindling up, when at it they went, poking
!and poking—and the result you see; and
' now the question is, shall we have a new
fire kindled, and what shall be the fuel?
Shall it be Lehigh Coal, or English Coal? .
Old Pennsylvany has a word to say in
this matter, if she chuses to speak, for
there is just this difference between her
I Coal and all other kind of Coal; it wont
stand poking, but if let alone, will burn
steadily and surely to the last— whilst
other Coal may blaze up with poking, and
the sooner go to ashes. The Coal is in
the grate yet, Major" says he "though by
puking, it has ceased burning."
"Yes" says I. "Squire, but it is plagy
( cold though." 'lt is so Major" says he;
but that comes front poking"—and with
that says he "Lets you and I take a turn
round and see some folks, and hear what
news is stirring, and by the time we get_
back, this fire will be kindled and the
blower on, and will soon give us a warm
room—and we'll have a roast potato and
a teethe cider, and can talk over matters
comfortably and cheerfully; and if you
will only let the poker alone, the evening
will close brightly." And so it did; but
1 can't tell more about it till I write you
illy next leiter—and all for the present I
[can say ii. put a black cross on all croak.
era. and especially the plers.
Your friend and tellow•citizen,
J. DOWNING, Major, ay. 4'e
Good Advice Gratis..—The Journal of
Commerce says-1f you would save your
house from being entered by burglars with
false keys, fasten your door by a plain
holt on the inside, disconnected with tha
lock. Burglars cau pick a ten dollar lock
with all the ease in the world; but they
cannot pick a two shilling bolt. It your
houses should be robbed some night, bet
sure to put a bolt on the dour immediately
afterwards.
Old .Maids—\\'e neera cou ld No it
out, %%by class of mortals was so much
abused. 11 they do not get married, it is
the fault of the other sex; and the blame
should attach where it belongs.--Atlas.
There is some truth in every philoso
phical system, hut each of them b.-c-rnes
ridiculous when that truth is procli
as the whole truth, and nothing list the
truth.
women generally consider consequm
ces in love, seldom in resentment,