VOL. VI, No. 42.]
TE2.1. , 10
OF TIIK
HUNTINGDON JOUEINAL.
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AGENTS
FOR .
The ffimalitszilo3a Journal.
Daniel Teague, Orbiaonia; David Blair-
Esq. Shade Galt; Benjamin Lease. Warleys
burg; Elie! Smith, Esq. Chilcottstown; Jas.
Entriken. jr. CdTe e Run; Hugh Madden,
Esq. Springfield; Dr. S. S. Dewey, Bir
mingham; am es Morrow. Union Furnace;
John Sisler. Warrior Mark; James Davis,
Esq. West township ; D. H. Moore. Esq
Frankstown; Eph. Galbreath. Esq. Holli
daysbura; Henry Neff. Alexandria; Aaron
Burns, Williamsburg; A. J. Stewart, Water
Street; Wm. Reed. Esq. Morris township;
Solomon Hamer. eff"s James Dysart.
Mauch Spruce Creek; Wm. Murray. Esq.
Graysville; John Crum. Manor Hill; Jas.
E. Stewart. Sinking Valley; L. C. Kessler
Mill Creek.
r-Q 4 V4
so; .
PO E TRY.
SUMMER'S GONE.
Then art gone, Oh! glorious summer,
With thy sunshine and bright flowers;
Thou hest left the hearts that lov'd thee,
With thy merry, laughing hours;
The pleasant sounds that dwelt with thee,
Will soon be heard no inure,
And the rky wears not as bright a blue
As yesterday it wore.
Thou hast not met a lingering fate.
Like some consumptive one,
Nor seen thy beauties all decay,
Before thy race was done;
The leaves are still almost as fresh
Asin their early prime,
Yet thou hast pass'd awry from earth,
Oh glorious snmmer time.
The glossy 1 ,. .ap1e leaves begin
To wear a tint of brown,
And now and then a dying nue
Comes slowly sailing down;
But thou art fled—thou wilt not see
Thy lov'd ones all decay—
Oh! thou hast faded gloriously,
Sweet summer's latest day.
LIKE AND NOT LIKE,
William was holding in his hand
The likeness of his wife,
'Twas drawn by some enchanted hand,
It seemed ao much like life.
He almost thought it spoke—he gazed
Upon the picture still;
And was delighted and amazed
To view the painter's skill.
"This picture is just like thee, Jane,
'Tis drawn to nature true;
I've kissed it o'er and o'er again,
'Tis so very much like you."
f.Aud has it kissed thee back, my dear?"
"Ah, no! my love," said he;
"Then, William, it is very clear,
It's not at all like ME."
From the New York American.
ON A FAIR LADY.
She shone upon the bright saloon
Mid mirth and musk's sound,
Like moonlight, on the glimmering,
Of tapers dim around.
And when she walked 'twos wonderful
How all our hearts she bow-M,
And how she tamed the manliest,
And how she awed the proud.
some shapes there are, tho' dear and rare,
By grudging Nature given,
To teach us here, how beautiful
The angels are in heaven;
,And such was she, the queen of all,
The fairest tithe fair,
The lady of the gentle heart,
put soul-subduing air.
_ gr- 4 , 1 NT,m " •
A, `' l7 -tt
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sec,' . , •
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDIiESDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1841
My Aunt Elonour.
lIT AGNES STRICKLAND.
My Aunt Honour- was for eight years
the reigning beauty of her native village;
and even at the end of that period, though
the opening charms of early youth had
gradually ripened into the more dignified
graces of womanhood, and she was a girl
no longer, no one could say that the
change had caused that diminution in her
personal attractions which could Aimd
just reason for the loss of the title. It
was but the seasonable expansion of the
bud into the flower, and in the eye of ev
ery person of taste and sense my Aunt
Honour was a beauty still. How, indeed,
could she be otherwise, with her graceful
contour of form and face, her noble line of
feat urea, brilliant yet reflective ; eyes of
rich dark hazel; serene brow; coral lips;
and clear brunette complexion? Hut un•,
luckily for poor Aunt Honour, she had!
two younger sisters in their teens, who,
as soon as they were emancipated frcm,
boarding-school, began to consider the
expediency of making conquests; and
finding that very few gentlemen paid
much attention to them when their eldest
sister was present, they took the trouble
of mekiug every one acquainted with the
precise date of her baptismal register;
after which kind disclosure Aunt Honour
lost the title of beauty, and acquired that
of an old maid.
This change of style was, I should ap
prehend, rather a trial of patience, in the
' first instance, for Aunt Honour, though
she had never exhibited the slightest de
gree of vanity or presumption, on account
of the general admiration she had excited,
was nevertheless pleased with the hem
age paid to her charms--and it was hard
I to feel herself suddenly deprived elan her
'flattering privileges at once, and that
without the reasonithle warning which
the faith! ul mirror gives of the first indi-
Calif:lS of the sure, yet silent progress of
decay in those who are not so wholly
blinded by selfroneeit as to be insensitil;
to its ravages. Time had dwelt so gently
with Aunt Honour, that when the account
of his takings and leavings were reckon•
ad, it scarcely appeared that she stemd at
disceunt—l am inclined to think the bal
ance was in her favor; but tiTgit I had so
much reason to love her, that perhaps I
was not an impartial judge. How, in
deed, could I Firge her tender cherishing
care of me in my bereaved and sickly
childhood, when by the early death of my
parents, toy brother and myself being left
in a comparative state of destitution, were
thrown upon the compassion of my moth
er's family. This was regarded in the
light of a serious misfortune by my two
young stints, Cal oline and Maria, who
might have instructed gray haws in les
sons of worldly wisdom, and both pos
sessed what is vulgarly termed a sharp
eye flit the main chance. They calcula
ted with a clearness and accuracy truly
wonderful at their age—for the elder of
the twain had nut completed her eight
eenth year at the period of which I speak,
•—the expense of our board, clothes, edu•
cation, and the general diminstion of
their comforts and chances of formiug
ailvantageoue matrimonial settlements,
which would be occasiened by our resin
dence with my grandfather; and they did
not of course forget the great probability
of his providing for tie in his will, which
would, naturally, take something front
their portions of the inheritance. Under'
the influence of such feelings, they net;
only used every means in their power to
prevent our reception into their father's
house, but after we were, through the in
fluenee of Auk Honour, admitted, they
treated us with a degree of unkindness
that amounted to actual persecution. All
our little faults were repeated by them in
the most exaggerated terms to my grand
mother; and, but for the affectionate pros
tection which Aunt Honour extended to,
ward us, we should have experienced
much harshness in consequence of these
misrepresentations, but her tenderness
made up to us for all deficiencies in other
quarters. She was to us in the place of
mother, father, and every oilier tie or kin
dred ; she was by turns our nurse, pre•
ceptress, and playfellow. Our love, our
duty, our respect, were all lavished on
her; she was our kind aunt, our dear
aunt, our good aunt; and well do 1 re
member being tied to the kg el the table
for a whole morning by my grandmother,
, as a punishment for exclaiming, in the
fulness of my heart, "that she was my
pretty aunt, and aunts Maria and Caro
line were my two old, ugly, cross aunts."
The rage of the injured junior, by twelve
years, may be imagined at this rash re
proof of my devotion to their eldest sis
ter; nor could Aunt Honour, with any
degree of prudence or propriety, inter
fere to avert the castigation which ins
young aunts bestowed upon me in the
shape of boxes on the ears, too numerous
to record, in addition to the penance of
being confined to the leg of grandinama's
work-table. Considering me, however,
in the light of a martyr in her cause, she
"ONE COUNTRY, OM; COM
A. W. BENEDICT PIIBLiSTIE•
made me more than ample amends in pri
vate far all I had sacred, and liviled me
with the most endearing caresses, while
she reproved me for having said such im
proper things to aunts Caroline and Ma
ria.
Ny grandmother, who, for the misfor
tune of her husband, was married long be ,
fore she knew how to conduct a house
with auy degree of propriety, was one of
those foolish women who occasionally
boast of their own early nuptials to their
unmarried daughters, with ill-timed re
marks on their comparative tardiness in
farming suitable matrimonial alliances,
which has too often piqued and mortified
inuide a ns into contracting most unsuitable
matches, that they might avoid the re
proach of celibacy, the fruitful source
from which so many ill assorted and ca
lamitous marriages have proceeded.
My grandfather, who had formed a ve
ry just estimate of his eldest daughter's
merits, was wont to observe, in reply to
his wife's constant remark, "that Honour
would never marry now, poor girl!"—
"Those women who were most eminently
qualified to prove excellent wives, moth
ers and mistresses of families, and who
were, metaphorically speaking, the twen- "
ty thousand pound prizes in the inatti.
monial lottery, were generally left in the
wheel, while the blanks and tickets of tris
fling value were drawn over and over
again ; but, for his part, he knew so much
of men, that he would recommend all his
daughters to remain single." Notwiths
standing this declaration of the old gen
tleman, it was evident enough that he was
inwardly chagrined at the unaccountable
circumstance of his lovely Honour, his'
sensible, clever girl, the pride of his eyes,
and the darling of his lonia, being umnar•
tied at thirty years of age; or as her
younger sisters, iu the insolence of their
only attraction, youth, called her an "old
maid."
No ! that he would not allow—.thirty'
--she wad in the prime of her days still,
and, in his eves, as handsome as ever—
certain' v ‘s , ser and better than when she
seas in her teens—far more likely to be
the choice of a sensible man then either
of her younger sisters—and he would bet
a hundred guineas that she would be mar
ried now before either ofthcm.
Wert:July, papa, it wedlock goes by
turns, she ought to be,' woulcl . aunt Car
oline rejoin, 'tor you know she is twelve
years older than I.'
'She might, however, make haste if she
thinks of getting married now,' would
aunt Maria add, with a silly giggle, 'for
she is getting trite venerable; and fut.'
my part, if 1 .to not marry by the time I
ant one-and-twenty, lam sure loh con
sitter myself an old maid.'
(here will be some wisdom in amis.
turning yourself to the title betimes, since
it may very probably be your portion for
life, young lady,' retorted my grandiltther
one occasion; 'at ally rate, no man of taste
anti sense wiil be likely to prefer you to
such a woman us your sister Honour.' But
here my grandmother, who always made
a sort of party with her younger daughters
interpoeed and said, 'lt really was quite
absurd that Honour should put herself so
forward in engagiug the attent , on of gen
tlemen, who might possibly Sc their re
gards on her younger sisters, provided she
would but keep a little in the background,
and remember that her day was gone by.
Sits had, from some unaccounsable reason,
permitted several opportunities of forming
a goad establishment to slip by, and now
she ought to allow her sisters a fair
chance in their turn, and submit to her
own destiny with a good grace.'
And Aunt Honour did submit, not only
with a good grace, but with a temper per
fectly angelical, not only to a destiny of
blighted hopes and wasted feelings, but
to all the invidioes taunts with which it
was embittered by those to whom she had
been ever ready to extend her generous
kindness, whenever it was required. She
never hesitated to sacrifice her own plea
sure, if she thought it would be condu
cive to theirs. Her purse, her ornaments,
her talents, and • iedustry, were at their
service on all occasions, and though it
was far front pleasing to her to be either
artfully manoeuvred, or rudely thrust out
of her place by the juvinile pair, who had
formed an alliance offensive and defensive
against her, yet she did not attempt to
contest with them the usurped rights and
privileges of eldership, or to struggle for
the ascendancy she had hitherto enjoyed
in the family; nor did she boast of her
youthful charms, or the multiplicity of her
former conquests, in reply to the lit solence
with which she was daily annoyed. She
was too dignified to appear to regard
these things; yet doubtless she felt them
keenly, her heart knew its own bitterness,
yet sufrered it not to overflow in angry,
useles retorts. She kept the quiet even
tenor of her way, under all provocations, ,
with silent magnaohnity ; and sought in
the active performance of her duties, a
resource front vain regrets and fruitless, ,
repinings, and if a sigh did occasionally
'Win) 'ION, ON
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E DESTINY."
[Z AND PROPRIETOR.
e ldca l ile her, it was smothered ere it fully
brea hed.
ne village in which we resided was
one of those dull, stagnating sort ofplaces
in ntlich years pass away without any visi
ble 4?hinge appearing to he affected. The
inhah:tants were few, and these, for the
mos) part, beneath us in situation; the my
grandfather was a man of family, though
his fortune was inadequate to the expense
attemlant on entering into that society
with which he alone would have permitted
his wife and daughters to mix. Latterly
however, my two younger aunts contrived
to engage in a general round of expensive
visiting with the surrounding gentry with
out paying the slightest regard to his dis
approbation. Their mother upheld them
in this line of conduct, and had recourse
to many painful expedients, in order to
. .
• tarnish them with the means of appearing
like other young people, as she termed it,
and we had all - to suffer the pains and
penalties of a stinted taLle in cause
iuene. Aunt Honour was of course ex
cluded from all these gay doings, and her
allowance was very irregularly paid, and
somiiritnes wholly diverted from its prop
er chOind, to supply her younger sisters
with hail dresses, or to satisfy the milli
ner, Tim would not depart without the
payment of at least part of the bills my
grant 7 mother hail imprudently permitted
her :elfish favorites to contract, when
ready money to procure some indispensa
ble piece of finery, to be worn at places
of more than ordinary attraction, could
not be obtained.
Our house, in termer times so quiet
and respectable, was now the resort at
the thoughtless, the gay, and the extrava
gant. Our peace was broken by the domi
ciliary visits of duns, to get rid of whom,
a system of lalsehood, equivocation and
blandishment, was made use of, which
rendered our family despicable in the
eyes olservants, and mean even in our
own. Aunt Honoar reasoned, entreated,
and represented the evil and moral in
justice of these things in vain. Iler
mother told her 'site was mistress of her
own house, and would do as she thought
proper,' and her two sisters informed her,
'that they hail no ambition to become old
maids ;the her, which would Itf ilibly be
the ease if they were confined to the dull
solitude which their father preserved, and
she appeared inclined to enforce.'
Aunt ilonour represented, in r 'ply, that
they were not pursuing a course very
like
ly to lead to the desired goal of the tem
' plc orliyinen; and received, in return, a
reitort of more than usual aggtavation.
She was accused of malice, of envy, and
an unt.l4terly desire oldeptiving the youth.
lid maidens of plensitre belonging to their
time of life; and, wo..se than all, of tit.'
opportunity- of becoming happy wives anti
useful members of society. Aunt Hon
our wottiti have smiled at the fo:ly of the
Later ineendoes, had she not felt inclined
to weep at their unkindness.
In the midst of one of these scenes, of
now almost daily occurrence, the whole
party received tickets of invitation to a
bell, given by Sir Edward Urosvenor, in
honor of having been chosen after a con
tested election, as one of the representa
tives of his native county. Sir Edward
Grosvenor, who had passed his youth in
India, where he had greatly signalized
himself under the banners of the Marquis
of fiastings, had only recently returned
to England, to Luke po•ses,3ion of his
estates on the death of his elder brother
without lade heir. Nothing could ex
ceed the exultation of my grandmother
and two youngest daughters, at the pros
pect oft. flattering introduction into the
house of so distinguished a character as
their wealthy hamlet neighbor, of whom
fame reported noble things, and who was
a very handsome man in the prime of life,
not exceeding, as the date of his birth in
the baronetage of England stated, his six
and •thirtieth year.
Visions of a title equipage, and wealth,
floated over the brains of aunts Caroline
and Maria, as their delighted eyes glanced
over the tickets.—There was bat one
drawback to these felicions anticipations
—the difficulty of procuring dresses suit
able for such an occasion
They looked in eager inquiry at their
mother; she shook her head, cannot
do anything to tOrward your wishes,' she
said, 'for reasons too obvious to you bath;'
but after a pause she added, 'Your sister
honour can assist you if ~he pleases.'
They both turned to Honour with im
ploring glances. _
'ln this instance it will not be in my
power,' observed Honour, gravely.
'You have ouly just received your quar
terly allowance from your father,' said
her mother.
'1 have already appropriated part of the
sum to the purchase an few necess:iries
for my orphan nephew and niece,' replied
she, 'and the residue, which would be
quite inadequate for your purpose, will
be barely sufficient to supply me with a
simple dress of book muslin, with shoes
and gloves requisite for this occasion 1'
'For this occasioa echoed both here
sisters in a breath, 'surely yuu do not
think of going to the ball ?'
'Why not?' demanded Honour, so
'You are so--'
'Old. you would say, Caroline,' contin
ued Auht Honour, coolly, finishing the
sentence fur her; 'only as you happen to
want money of to-day you are rather
more cautious of wounding my feelings
than is usual with you,'
'Well, but really, Honour, I do not see
what good your going to a ball would
do.'
'None,' interposed her mother; 'and I
thought you had given up these sort of
things long ago.'
'ls it not your intention to accept the
ticket which Sir Edward Grosvenor has
sent fur you, u e asked Honour.
. -
'Of course it is ; your sisters could not,
with any degree of propriety, go without
111
'Then I shall do myself die pleasure of
accompanying you,' said Honour, quietly.
The elder sisters of Cinderella never
said more insulting things to that far
famed heroine of lairy lore, to prevent
her from trying her chance in fitting the
glass slipper, than were uttered by Caro
line and ilLtria to deter Aunt Honour
from going to the ball. She listened to
them with her ' , slid mildness of temper,
yet persevered in her resolution.
I ihink I never sitwherluuCso beauti
ful as on that eventful evening, when at
tired in 'widest, simple elegance, she was
led by my grandfather to tha carriage, in
spite of all opposition 11 . 0111 the adverse
parties. I, of course, was nut included
in the party; bat I can readily imagine
that the surprise and envy of the mortifi
oil sisters of Cinderella, on entering the
roost where tie hitherto despised victim
of their persecutions was dancing with
her princely partner, did not exceed that
01 my juvenile aunts, when they beheld
that of the hero of the night—the gallant
and admired Sir Edward Grosvenor—
greet old Honour, as they disparagingly
styled their elder, iiith the differential
yet tender air of a lover; and passing
over, not only themselves, but many oth
ers of the 3sung, the fair, the higlishorn
stars of the evening, and entreating to
open the WI with her—a distiuctinn -
which was modestly declined by her,'
with equal sweetness and propriety, on
the plea that there were others of high
rank present, who were, scent ding to ett- :
quette, better entitled to that honor.
'Honor !' exclaimed the gallant knight
of the shire, gently possessing himself of
her unrelw;:tant hand ; 'the Lomr, I tru. t,
is mine; I have long,' he added, in a whis
per that itas meant fur no other ear than '
hers, , siglied to possess this honor, of
which the cold considerations of rank
and etiquette can never possess sullicient
pow( r to deprive me.'
Con one believe that Aunt Honour was
fastidious enough to examine too critical
ly the merits of the pun which a faithful
lover, under such circumstances, ventur
ed on her name ?
There was nut, perhaps, one lady in
the room that would nut have been proud
of bring !he woman Edward
Grosvenor addressed tiro. whtspered com
pliment; but there was none to whom it
was so well due as to her whom he de
lighted to honor; for she was the love
of his youth, who for his sake, had faith•
fully endured years of expectation and
delay, with no other assurance of his re
membrance and constancy than that hope
which keeps alive dispair, and survives
all the fading flowers of youthful affection
—that farad reliance on his regard, which
would not suffer her to imagine that he
could be false or forgetful.—Nor was the
object ofsoch devoted love undeserving
of feelings like these. He too had had
his sullerings: he had endured paternal
wrath, expulsion from his home, years of
exile, of poverty, and of suspense.
'But it is all over now,' he whispered,
as he dashed an intrusive tear from his
sun-burned cheek. .1 suffered for Hon.
our! I fought for Honour ! and the resi
due of my days will 1 trust, be passed
with Honour
It was a proud day for my grandfather,
when he bestowed his daughter on Sir
Edward Grosvenor at the marriage altar;
and he did not fail to take due credit to
himself on the vertfication of his predic
tion. As for my aunts Caroline and Ma
ria, I think I had better say nothing of
their feelings on the occasion ; but, fin•
the warning of such of the juvenile readers
of these pages who may feel inclined, in
the thoughtless pro.sumptian of early
youth, to brand the eider--and, perchance
fatter females than themselves—with the
contemptuous epithet of old maids, I feel
myself compelled to record fity mortifying
fact, that these two luckless sisters of my
honored mother remain at this momeat
spinsters of forty nod forty two years
standing, and both have acted as brides
maids to Lady Grosvenor's youngest
daughter, without one opportunity having
offered to either of them of changing their
forlorn condition.
[ WHOLE NO. 302.
So far, however, from voluntarily as
suming the name of old maids, if unmar
ried at one and twenty, as they engaged
to do when in the !Illness of their self con •
ceit they imagined such a circumstance
out of the bounds of human possibility,
neither of them tvill acknowledge the title
of forty; in the contrary, they endeavor
to conceal the ravages of time under the
affectation and airs of excessive youthful.
ness.
SHORT PATENT SERMONS.
NEW SMiIES-NO. LXVI.
On the LoquacEty oriVoramen.
Nature, impartial in her ends,
When she made man the strorgest
In Justice, then, to make amends
Made woman's tongue the longest.
TENNARILL
MY IfitaEns.—keep your nut cracks
ers closed, and be tongue tied while I
tongue it for a few moments on the sub
ject of tongues, ifyou please. As regards
the utility of the tongue, it is needless to
say that it is one of the most important ap
pendages of the human system. It is dv
signed (Or other uses than lieknig
ses and carrying grub from one grinder to
another during the pleasant, but
. some•
times tedious process of mastification. Its
principle ufliee is to form or finish words as
they bubble up in the chaotic state, thro'
the thorax, front the well-spring of the
heart. In society the tongue is both a
useful and pleasing member—as it not
only imparts information to the unlearned
but serves in beguiling many a weary hour,
and aid:4'in digesting sorrows, that sits as
heavy upon the soul as stewed horse nails
upon a dyspeptic's stomach.—ln its oper
ation it should be guided by prudence and
moderation, else it becomes a bore in.
stead of a blessing. Some People have
naturally so much loquacious steam in
their boilers, that when they once get the
clappers to their corn mills ill operation,
they never know when to stop them.
Such folks, generally speaking, arc as
empty as egg shells and softer than soap
fat. A dam with a gate that's always
hoisted can hold but little water, and a
man who leaks at the mouth, can't have
much in him excepting that gas with
which the bladder of vauity is ever intlat,
My friends—my text implies that Na.
tore made woman with a longer tongue than
man in order to compensate her for what
she lacked in physical strength—that,
whenever the science of flstification might
fail in her purpose, she might have re•
course to the worst of all weapons—a
long tongue; and I fed bound to say,
with regard for the delicacy of the femi
nine gender, that vi omen's tongues are of
ten too extensive fur their own special
gout!, and for the benefit of the communi
ty at large. If they would only bring
them into play when necessity required, I
wouldn't say a word ; but the fact is, they ,
are too apt to keep up a continual click
clack, for the sake of the music alone;
and efien, too eften, they upset their own
teapots while leveling a kick a their neigh.
bor'a. Why, my friends, I know several
of the she sex in this city who has e knock
ed out all their front teeth and worn away
part of their gums by the continual arid
everlasting working of their scandal dis
tribetars. I knt w it is the nature of the
beautiful animal to indulge in meddlesome
aarrulity, and when she becomes so ex•
sanded with gossip as to be in danger of
bursting her apron strings, I am willing
she should let off her surplus steam, pro
vided she doesn' t blow it in the face of
innocence, and to the detriment of social
peace. I admire, respect and love a wo
man whose looks are as mild as the moon
beam, and whose winds are as gentle as
the zephyr which disdains to brush even
a dew drop from the mountain. daisy;
but I don't like to muddle with one whose
disposition contains the essence of light
ening, vitro!, cream of tartar, and harts
horn—who manufactures words by the
mile, and measures their meaning in a
thimble. 1 don't care whether their be
any meaning in them or not. I don't
like it, :tad thats enough. All talk and
no cider—as is the case with some wry
men and the locofocos—is unreasonable,
and all talk with too much cider—as with
the whias—is equally as bad. Those aro
my politics. As the rain falls the gen
tlest from the clouds when unattended by
thunder, so, give the a tongue that can
silently shake off the particles of speech
and let them drop through the car into
the heart—there to moisten and refresh
the young plants of virtue, and cause
them to, flourish, like hug weeds in a
barnyard.
My friends—TheDutch governor thought
wisely when he advised the girls to wear
short tongues and lung petticoats, but his
advice was as water spilt upon the ground.
They will persist in wearing long tongues
and short petticoats; and when i came to
take measure of the different makes in
their moral characters, I must confess that
I feel a disposition to presecu te• them
with my preuchina till I ran tat ..at a ha...
-~...t,...,. ~:
^„?..