VOL. VI, No. 13.] %inn= ob—rnE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL.I7 The" JOURNAL" will be published every Wednesday morning, at two dollars a y ear, ' d 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 gsraished with a sixth copy gratuitously for ane year. No subscription received for a less period thin sit - months, nor any pap.r disconthaied until all orrearages are paid. ...Rications must be addressed to tie Editor, POST PAID, or they will not be attended to. Advet tisements not exceeding one square, will be inserted three times for one dollar, and for every subsequent insertion, twenty eve cents per square will be charged. Hun 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. The I I ungingdon Jo urn al- Daniel Teague, Orbisonia; David Blair, Esq. Shade Gap; Benjamin Lease, Shirleys burg; Eliel Smith, Esq. Chilcottstostm; Jas. Entriken, jr. Cefiv Bun; Hugh Madden, Esq. Springfield; Dr. S. S. Dewey, Bir mingham; James Marrow, Union Furnace; John Sisler, Warrior Mark; James Davis, Esq. West township ; D. H. Moore, Esq • Frankatown; Eph. Galbreath, Esq. Holli daysburg; Henry Neff, Alexandria; Aaron Burns, Williamsburg; A. J. Stewart, Water Street; Wm. Reed, Esq. Ma 'TM township; Saimaa Hamer, heir James Dysart, Jtfauth Spruce Creek; Wm. Murray, Esq. Graysville; John Crum, Manor Hill; Jas. E. Stewart, Sinking Valley; L. C. Kessler, Mill Creek. ORPHANS' COURT SALE. N pursuance of an order of the Or. lit pilaus' Court of Huntingdon county, will be exposed to sale by public vendue or outcry, on the premises, on Monday the 29th day of March next, the following described real estate, late the property of Benjamin Cornelius, deed. to wit—A certain lot or parcel of land situate in Cromwell township, in said county, ad joining another lot of said dec'd. and the Black Log mountain; containing two acres and one quarter, more or less, with a small tannery and a two story dwelling house thereon erected. Terms of Sale:—Ole half of the pur chase money to be paid on the contirma• tion of the sale, and the residue in one year thereafter with interest, to be secu red by the bond and mortgage of the pur chaser. By the Corn t, JJI-IST REED, Clerk, Attendance will be given at the time and place of sale by the undersigned, Ad ministrators of the said decid.' JOSEPH CORNELIUS, Adm's. GEORGE CORNELIUS, February 10, 1811. NOT - ICE. THE businesi, at the Juniata Rolling Mill, Huntingdon County Pa., al ter,the lot of January 1841, will be con ducted by Samuel Hatfield, John Hat field, and Samuel Hatfield jr., under the " me o f S am u e l Hatfield 4. Sons; and they solicit the atteneulion of the public to their superior article of holler Sheet, Flue and Tank Iron. .IXLES AND BAR IRON OF ALL SIZES wade 'out of the best Juniata Blooms which will be furnished on as accommo. dating terms as heretofore, and they at the same time thankful for past patronage Samuel Hatfield, John Hatfield, Samuel Hatfield jr. Juniata Rolling Mill, Iluntingdcn County, Pa. Jan. Ist tB4l. ROCKDALE FOUNDRY, MHZ subscribers would respectfully in w m the citizens of Huntingdon and the adjoining counties, that they have repaired and newly fitted up the Rockdale Foundry, on Clover Creek, two miles from Williams burg, where they are now prepared to exe cute all orders in then• line, of the best ma terials and workmanship, and with prompt ness and despatch. They will keep constantly on hand stoves of every description, such as Cooking, Ten Plate, Parlor, Coal and Wood Stoves: Ploughs, Anvils, Hammers, Hof low-ware, and every kind of castings necessary for forges, mills, or machinery of any descrip tion: wagon boxes of all descriptions, Etc., which can be had on as good terms as they 'x• had at any otter• foundry in the eon., ty r state. Remember the Rockdale Foun. dry. STEFVENi & KENNEDY, Juwiry 1, 1841. PL'AitC: JOURNAL. ~~_ 4'y, S~.: ~; -..~ ' ~. ~` _ 1 '~ ~ ~=4ll POETRY. A POLICE SCENE, COURT...GirI, have ycli any witness to call in your defence?" PRISONER.—"No, your worship, I have not a friend upon the face of the earth." Meet epitaph for such as thou, With wasted frame and drooping brow! On whom this instant every eye Rains scorn's condensed artillery— The clown's coarse laugh—the ribald': leer; The juror's state affecting sneer— Th' official's shrug—the counsel's smile (Niobling his idle pen the while)— The judge's sly but solemn pun— HaYe all not galled thee, guilty One? Thou common mark for shafted mirth— Thou wretch, witlicut a friend on earth! What's writ is writ—thou'st heard thy doom; Depart, and give fresh felons room; Hence! thy Ellutted time to dwell With those who make their bed in hell, Beneath thy fierce taskmaster grim, To toil with trembling weary limb— The long laborious day to curse, Yet dread night's sleepless fever worse— To chafe and fret till thou attain Thy haunts of gin and guilt again; Leper! from every human hearth! Cast out, without a friend on earth! Thou'rt gone;—but yondet greedy gate, Again shall lend tLee to thy fate— Amid thy co-mutes' ruffian din, Once more to shiver and to sin; Thrcugh London's midnight streets again To splash in winter's killing rain; Stifling that dread sepulchral cough, That soon or late must cut the off— Must give thee, huddled to thy shell, From some fouLgarret's foetid cell, A home within the grave-yard's girth At last, thou friendless on the earth! No Stoic I.—of crime ant. care I've had my birthright's ample share; Yet sooner than possess his heart, Who, with a fiend's consmmate art, First lured thee from thy father's cot, (Perhaps in some green sheltered spot,) And led and left thee, till Despair Produced thee bound, a felon there,— Sooner—though bribed by jeweled Power— Than risk his deathbed's damning hour, I'd toil for bread—in misery's dearth— Thtough life, without a friend on earth! TUE CIRCASSIAN BRIDE, DV E. IVITIIERALD "She walks in beauty like the nights. Of cloudless chines and starry skies." NERINDA was the daughter of a shep herd who dwelt in one of the charming portions of Circassia. If beauty was a blessing, Nerinda was blessed beyond the ordinary lot of mortals, for the lame of her lovelme-ss had extended through the neighboring vallies, and at the early age of fourteen her hand had been sought by many, with an earnestness which show ed her parents what a treasure they pos sessed in their eldest born. But no one had been able to obtain her. Money is not so plentiful in the vales of Circassia, as in the mart of Constanti nople; and few of the neighboring youths might venture therefore to aspire to her hand. There appeared every day, less probability that the fair girl would be per mitted to pass her life amidst scenes en deared to her by a thousand childish and tender recollections. Nerinda felt this and her eye became less bright, and her step less buoyant, than when she trod the flowry turf a few months before, a hap py caeeless child, attending the flocks now abandoned to the care of younger chit. dren. She became pensive and melans choly. tier rich color• faded, and her pa rents saw with surprise. and concern that the dazzling beauty on whirls so much de pended, would be tarnished by the very means they were taken to preserve it.— W hat was to be done? She must resume her old employments, since healthful exer cise was of such consequence to her ap pearance; she. would do so in the neigh ,boring meadows without danger, accompa nied by her sister Leila. Oh! how happy was Nerinda when she received this un looked for indulgence; with what haste did she braid and arranged her beautiful hair, and fasten on the veil without which she must not be seen; then joining her sis ter, she visited every spot endeared to her by memory, and at length, seating herself on a mossy bank which separated her fa ther's possessions from those of a neighbo ring shepherd, began to arrange the many flowers she had culled into beautiful bo quets and chaplets, an occupation befit• "ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY." A. W. BENEDICT \ PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR. HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, MARCH 10, 1841 ting one so ycung and lovely;n whilst her hands were thus emplo y ,it was evident her thoughts were kr distant kr she fell into reveries 4 deep that her sister, unabled to arouse her from her ab straction, became weary of attempting it, and returned to her fleecy charge, leaving Nerinda to muse alone. Nerinda believed herself alone, but immediately after the departure of Leila, a finely formed youth had crossed the stream, and stood at the distance of a few paces, gazing on her with a passionate tenderness which betokened the strength of his attachment. Almost afraid to dis• turb her meditations, yet anxious to ob tain a single word, a single glance, he re mained motionless; waiting, hoping that she might raise her eyes, and give him permission to advance. She raised them at length, uttered an exclamation of sur prise, and in a moment the youth was at her feet. 'Nerinda!' flassian!' were the first words that escaped their lips. 'Did I indeed see thee? and dust. thou still love thy Nerinda?' said the maiden. 'Love thee?' replied the youth in an im passioned tone, 'thy image is entwined with every fibre of my heart. They may tear thee from me, they may destroy me if they will, but while life remains I can not cease to love.' 'Alas!' said Nerinda, 'weeks have pas sed since I saw thee and I feared-I—.' She stopped confused, for Hassan had seized her hand, awl was pressing it to his lips with an energy which showed how well he understood what was pas sing in her mind. 'Oh! Nerinda,' said he, 4 1 have entrea ted, I have implored thy father to bestow thee on me, but in vain, for all the money could oiler was not one tenth of the sum he requires; yet do not dispair ' he said, as the color faded from her check, 'I still may hope if thou remains constant.' 'This very morning,' continued Has san, 'I sought thy father; at first lie was unwilling to listen to me. At length I prevailed on him to hearken, even if he re fused his assent to what I proposed; but be did not refuse. Pleased with my an xiety- to obtain thee, he has promised that if in two years I can gain the required sum thou shalt be my wile; if I cannot he will wait no longer, but part with thee to .him who will pay the highest price.' The voice of the youth faltered—he was scarcely able to continue, 'in two (lays I am to take all the money my lather can spare, and join the caravan which pro ceeds to the south; fear not,' said he, re. plying to the alarm expressed in her va rying countenance, 'there is no danger, the caravan is large, and if fortunate as a trader, I shall return before two years, have passed to claim my plighted bride. Wilt thou be true? may! trust tiled!' were questions the lover asked, though he felt sure the answers would be such as he could desire, and when the assurance was given, he for the fit st time ventured to impress a kiss on those beautiful lips. Long did they thus converse, but at length they parted; Nerinda promising to come to the same spot on the next morning to bid him farewell. They parted, Hassan vainly endeavor ing to inspire Nerinda with his own hopes —She al mwt sank under the trial, and it was many days before she had strength to revisit the banks of turf, their accustomed trysting place. When she did, how changed did all appear; the flowers v ere still blooming around; the stream flowed on with its accustomed murmur; the birds carolled sweetly as of old; where then was the change? Alas! it was her own heart; joy and happiness had fled with Hassan, and melancholy had taken their place. Two years and six months had passed since the departure of the youth, and there seemed little probability of his return; e• ven his venerable father mourned lain as dead, when a company of traders enter ed the mountains. One of them was an old acquaintance in the valley. Ile re newed his solicitations to the father of Ne rinda that she might Le placed under his charge; offering the highest price, and promising that her future lot should be as brilliant and delightful as her past had been obscure. The shepherd was great ly disappointed by the uon•appearance of tassan, for he would have preferred keep• ing his daughter near Into if he could have done so with advantage to hims elf, but being poor and avaricious, and imagi ning he should be perfectly happy if pos sessed a so much wealth as the trader offered, he consented to part with her, who had ever been his chief delight and the pride of his heart. Linguage cannot paint the consterna tion of Nerinda when she learned her fa ther's determination. The delay of Has san she accounted for by supposing he had not yet acquired the full amount neces sary for his purpose, and hoped that after a while he would return to call her his. Now all hope was at an end. Hassan might still come, but she would be far dis taut, perhaps the wife of another. Her mother and sister too shared her grief, for they thought `it would be impossible to live without Nerinda; but all entreaties & lamentations were vain, the shepherd had male the bargain :and would abide by it; and she was hurried to the caravan in a state little short of insensibility. And where was Hassan? He had de termined in the first place to proceed with the caravan to Mecca, whither it was bound, add laying out the money he pos sessed in merchandize, to trade at the dif ferent towns on their route. Before they arrived at the holy city he had consequent ly so greatly increased his store, that he felt no doubt he should be able to return before the time appointed; but meeting soon afterward with a heavy loss, he was thrown back when he least expected it, and at the end of the two years had not more than half the amount required. To return without it was useless, and he set about repairing his loss with a heavy heart. Six months passed in his endea vor, at the end of which time he found himself rich enough to return, but it was necessary he should proceed to Co nstanti nople to settle some business, and join a caravan which was going toward his na tive country. His anxiety increased eve ry day: of what avail would be his wealth if she, for whose sake it had been aecumu lated was lost forever? The day before the one fixed for his de parture from Constantinople, a company of traders arrived, bringing with them Cir cassian slaves. He happened to be pas sing by the slave market, and impelled by sudden curiosity entered the room. He had scarcely done so when he was struck by the graceful figure of one of the girls, which reminded him of Nerinda. He felt almost afraid to have her veil removed, then recollecting that it would be impossi ble or her to recognize him in his pres ent tiress, and determined to suppress his emotions whatever the result, he made the request which was immediately com plied with. It was indeed Nerinda, but how changed She stood before him pale as marble, with downcast eyes, look ing as if no smile would ever again illu mine those pensive features; once only a fainCtolor tinged her check as he :Wren. ced toward her, then instantly gave place to more deathly paleness. The price was soon agreed upon, far the trader was now as anxious to get rid of his fair slave as he had been desirous to obtain her; having re signed the hope of making an immense profit in consequence of the continual de jection and grief she indulged, which had greatly impared her health and beauty. Hassan ordered the trader to send her to his apartments immediately. When he had entered the room to which she had been conducted, he gently raised her veil. She looked up and re• cognized him instantly; her joy was as unbounded as his own, bat was displayed in a different manner. She threw herself into his arms and sobbed and wept. She was, however, at length able to listen tran guilty to the account of his adventures, and to relate her own. The remembrance of hisaged parent, doubly endeared by absence, and of his joyous childhood, were still alive in the breast of Hassan; and after a few days spent at Constantinople, he proposed to return to his native valley. They sat out the health & beauty of Ne rinda improving, in spite of the fatigues of their journey. The joy with which they were greeted was unbounl b ed. All had given Hassan up for dead, and Nerin da was regarded as lost to them forever, Even her lather had repented of his ava rice, and would willingly have returned his gold, could he have once more had Ne rinda by his side. Her mother and sis ters hung around her with tears of joy; and the whole valley welcomed her re turn with glad rejoicings. The young couple took up their resi-• dence with Hassan's father; many a visit did they pay to that bank of turf, the scene of their limner meetings, and never did they look on that spot without feeling their bosom swell with the emotions of gratitude towards that kind Providence who had disposed all things for their good and had watched over and protected them even when they believed themselves de serted. What is Gentility. Every body can distinguish what they call a gentleman, from a man whom they do not consider to be one. It is true, however, that every body has not the same standing for gentility, an•d what one might consider to be genteel another might con. sitter to be very tin- from it. It is thine tore impossible to give such a definition to gentility as would accord with the ideas of every one ; or, if such a definition could be given, there would be a wide difference of opinion as to the rules that might he laid down for carrying it out. If we were to venture an opinion on the subject, we would say that gentility is that deport ment, whether at home, in society, or in the street, which is the result of a desire to avoid,doino• or saying any thing that could give Aimee to others. A strict observance of this law would undoubtedly. secure for its observer the respect of all with whom be would be brought into con tact, and in carrying it into practice, if he aims at the highest standard of gentility, he must consult the taste of the most re fined and even the most fastidious, or else he may fall short of his object, and be considere,i as genteel by one set of per sons, and vulgar by another. A man who should act,up to the following standard, could hardly fail to be considered as a gentleman by every body, although we are free to admit that he might be consid ered by many as rather too much of one: It is not genteel to swear. It is not genteel to indulge in licentious conversation. It is not genteel to talk loud in compa- ny. It is not genteel to laugh loud. It is not genteel to interrupt others in conversation. It is not genteel to be:quick and abrupt in talking. It is not genteel to advance your opine ions in a dogmatical and positive manner. It is not genteel to attempt to give force to your assertions by hammering on the table, or by ady extraordinary gesticula tions, as it you were infallible. It is not genteel at an evening party where refreshments are served, to fill a lady's plate with terrapins, or oysters, or chicken salid, as it' she had eaten no din ner. It is not genteel to put your mouth so close to the face of the person you are talkini , ° to as to incommode him with your breath, even though you may fancy it to have the odour of a nosegay. It is not genteel to slain a door in going in or out of a room where there are other persons. . It is net genteel to take the wall of a lady in the street, whether you be a white or a b lack 'gentleman.' It is not genteel to carry with you into company the fumes of cigar smoke. It is not genteel to chew tobacco in company, or to spit tobacco juice upon a carpet or into a nice fire place. tt is nut genteel to smoke cigars in the street, as some respectable looking stran gers are otten seen to do. It is not genteel for tweedledum to turn up his nose at Iweedledee in company. It is not genteel to talk at concerts or lectures so as to prevent others from hear- in itlt is not genteel to whisper in compa —., It is not genteel at a table to begin be fore'the rest of the company are helped. It is net genteel to eat fast, or to put a large . quantity into your mouth at once. It nut genteel to finish a meal until others have had time to make some pros gress with theirs. It is not genteel to eat so slow as to eat after the others are done. It is not genteel when you are invited to a party to meet a stranger, to go away befure the stranger. It is not genteel, if you be that stranger, to wait an unreasonable time before you take your leave. It is not genteel to salute a gentleman whilst walking in the street with a lady, with a nod of the head. It i 4 riot genteel to contradict others. It is not genteel to lean back in a chair in company. It is not genteel to rub your head, whilst seated on a sofa, against the newly paper ed wall of a parlor in w Inch you sic a visitor. It is not genteel to stand before a fire place and intercept the heat from others who are as cold as yourself. It is nut genteel in company to comb your hair with your fingers. It is not genteel to talk in company mature than your full share. It is not...genteel at the Institute, or any other public place, to stick your feet upon a chair or on a table. It is nut genteel to whistle or hum a tune in presence of strangers or ladies. It is not genteel to say or do any thing in presence of others, which if said or done by them would offend your feelings or sense of propriety. These are no sketches of fnncy. Thev are pictures drawn from real life, and perhaps there is hardly a man that will not find one or more of the hints that will fit his case. A Qneeikiiiy. Adonishingiy Illysterfous.--The New York Herald relates the following tale: "A most singular atliiir took place last week at a village !about ten miles this side of Newburg —l3luomburg grove, we believe. On Thursday about 11 o'clock in the morning, as a stout, hearty good looking young fellow was working in a field there close to the road, tall open car riage, drawn by two handsome horses, and driven by a negro, containing a gen tleman and a very beautiful young lady drove up, and stopped just opposite to where the young man was at work. The gentleman who was dressed in [WirotE No. 273 black, then jumped nut; and the 'young mak thinking he wanted assistance, ad. vanced towards the carriage, and met the strange gentleman, when the following conversation took place: GENTLEMAN—My young friend, arte you a married man? LABORER—No, sir. tiErrr.—Would you like to be marri ed, if you had a good chance? LAIL—WeII, I've never thought much about it. C4ENT.-But would you get married to a handsome young lady, if .he had money enough to support you and herself com fortably for the rest of your lives? Lit.— Well, I rathei think I would GEBT.—Come, then, you shall be mar- Oed at once to a lady whom I have in that carriage. LA B,—No, stop: I must go home and dress first. GENT.-Oh, no! Never mind you dress come right away. So saying they approached the carriage. when the gentleman handed out the young lady, who was most splendidly dressed. She shook hands with the far mer, asked him his name, and then enqui red where the 'Squire could be found, whilst a slight moisture stole into her eyes, notwithstanding her attempt to smile and appear cheerful. The young man replied that he would lead the way. Leaning on the arm of the gentleman, she reached the residence of the 'Squire, who soon united her fast in the bonds of wed lock to the young man. Whilst at the al tar, she was very pale, and shed tears Alter thr knot was tied, the lady 'asked for and received the marriage certificate, which she put into a silk velvet bag, and then all three went towards the carriage. When they reached it, the driver was mounted on the box, ready to start, with the horses' heads turned in the direction whence they had come; the old gentleman handed the lady in, turning sharp round to the young husband, and putting a purse in his hand, exclaimed with some energy, "Good bye—God bless yon—we may see you again,"jumped into the carriage h'cli was driven off with the speed of the wind, before the astonished husband could recover himself from the surprise of what he saw and heard. Finding all efforts to follow thorn useless, he opened the purse. and found tt contained $5OO. He ,then made his way into the village, to tell the result of this strange affair to his relatives and friends. By some he was laughed at, and by others abused, for his fully in letting the young lady slip through his fingers.", From the N. 0. Picayune. Sewing Room Chit Chat. Bachelors are doubtless often exceed ingly interested in the conversation' of young ladies over their sewing, the 'de lightful little technicalities of sewing phraseology are so profoundly and inter estingly inexplicable. A plough boy. listening to a scholastic disputation in Greek, may know just as much about what is going forward, as a bachelor in a back parlor when young ladies are plying the needle. "Cut it bias, and stitch it with herring bones, then take the gusset end fasten it up with a stomacher!" Now, what can such talk as that mean? Xhat is a gusset? ill any lady tell us what a gusset is? "liens stitch the goare!"-- , 11 hat is a hem stitch? and what is a goaret Are there any such words as these in the English language? Ought women to be allowed the use of such au unknown tongue ? Why its dangerous Who knows what conspiracies and rebellions they may contrive and arrange within reach of our ears, before our faces, under our very noses, by means of this unintel ligible and mysterious language? It se cret institutions are supposed to be dan gerous to society, what are we to think of such an occurrence as this? Gracious powers! Our wives and daughters die. coJrsing beside us in sounds that convey no meaning to our ears! A dozen female visiters chatting, and we not understand one word of the conversation! Is it not time to look into this subject and see how far onr negligence has betrayed us into danger? It ho, at this very moment, knows but the whole family race is about to rise up and revolutionize mankindt— Under the new administration we hope to see this subject investigated. They sho'd Le made to tell what they mean by "pop in," "guSsets," and "guars,'' and such outlandish and unchristian words that no honest man can comprehend. "Cutting bias" may mean cutting throats, for all we know. In the name of sense what are we to understand by "herring bone stitch es?" ti hat subtle mischief may there be at the bottom of all this? Let it be sees to! In the name of safety, let the women be °pinioned!. He who rides a borrowed horse, does sot t ide of on.—[Turktsh Proverb. True, but he generally rides fast enough and far enough to make up for the differ ence.—[Buf. Rep.
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