Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, November 08, 1843, Image 1
. U -., , i !? . - :-. ) . ::- '.- ',/. - t I -v- -..-• . 11 , 4 4 t Ilk .4 „, T I . ' A , c - '-.,.,.. a .z: 1 ~,. El • ` 4 ! - .. .0 al 1 .., i 1 ti 1) . ~..: •, c p n Itt t * I _\,::. '_rte k, 4_ -6_ A t I Debotar to etinvat itterifgettee , ffitberttotna, jioltt(co,Etteratttre, Rioratttg, Arfencto, 3firtruiture, Zottittericitt, ae., scc. `QYsa3=Z2, eaeD,;. THEODORE H. CREMER, Cda l CiSio la. Ma 03 Q The "JoanytAL" will be published every Wed me slay morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance, and if not paid within six months, $2 50. . _ No subscription received for a shorter period than six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar rearages are paid. Advertisements not exceeding, one square, will ho inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse •guout insertion 25 conto. If no definite orders are given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac cordingly. POMTRT. Dark nom. TIT MUG. A. B. IT. JOIIB. Oh, there are some dark hours in life, When the heart seems charged to breaking The quickening pulse, with fever rife, Marks the slumbering passion!, waking. When the rapt soul in burning chains, Seems writhing in its sadness; Yet scorns the show of mortal pains, And SMILES in reckless madness. So lightning mocks the storm cloud's power To dim its vivid flashing; And revels most when Tempests lower, With its echoing thunder crashing; Or the wild laugh of maniac fears, That rings from Passion's struggle ; Thus fills the soul with grief and tears, Its vaunted strength—a bubble ! Yes, there are times we love to feel A loneliness in sorrow ; When from the world's bright charms we steal, And shades from memory borrow. 'Tie then we feel that keen remorse— The bliss we've madly blighted; For Time, whilst on his ceaseless course, Gives back no moments slighted. hope strews our path with sunny flowers, And lures us with bright securing; Yet thorns will spring in fairest bowers, And wake the sours sweet dreaming. Life gives no joy without a pain, Twin-brother with every pleasure ; Once loot, we ne'er may hope again To clamp the vanish'] treasure. The more we love—the more our (care Aro mingled with its sweetness; Its evanescing bliss appears To mock us with its fleetness. Yea,liere are hours, when haggard thought 'Will crowd our troubled cool ; •"`'"' When joys of life seem dearly bought, Beneath its dark control. Autumn. On woodland and on mountain side Rich varied tints appear; By ITT stone and wandering wave Pale leaves are falling sere. The garden flowers all scattered lie, In sorrowful decay, And the greenness of the valley slope Is fading fast away. And are the verdure and the bloom In their fresh prime eo dear, That thus the spirit mourned' o'er The ruin of the year! No! 'tie because true types are they Of lovelier, dearer things; Hopes, joy. and transports, unto which The heart so fondly ding. There is a moral in each leaf That Iroppeth from the tree; In each lone, barren bough that points To heaven so mournfully ; Mute nature in her silent way A mystic lesson tells, And they who watch the Sybil well May profit by her spells. (Knickerbocker.) MittICY:ILLA.II'=O7O. From Graham's Magasine for October. LIZZIE LINCOLN, A TALE OF THE LAST CENTURY. CHAPTGR Oh! I see the oh! and formal, fitted to thy petty part, With a little hoard of maxims, preaching down a daughter's heart. Tennytion. FORM ♦ND FEELING, They were twin slating, and so alike in form and feature that at a first glance you could not tell them apart; but you had only to watch them for five min utes to be quite sure that Lizzie was Lizzie and no body but her own sweet self, and that Priscilla was Priscilla—for in mind, in heart, in expression, they were as different assunshine and moonlight or a sta tue and painting, and with the same sort of differ ence too; both beautiful—but the one cold, calm, pale and still—the other glowing with life, full of spirit, genius and sensibility; Priscilla stately, for mal, reserved, apathetic—Lizzie wild, loving, trust. ful, playful and frank ; and as soon as you detected this difference in their natures, you would begin also to perceive that in person, too, they differed slightly ; Lizzie had a fuller, richer lip, a deeper, darker eye, a cheek more warmly tinged, and ever changing with her changing mood, a lighter and inure yielding form, a step of more aerial grace, a softer, yet a merrier laugh; even her hair had an ex , prise;✓.t about it that did not belong to PriceilLq's ; z. -- ,:::raDziazw.-1 - 13L - .43 , -,...e cat. zaw...aE:Ls. both were deep brown in hue ; but Lizzie's had a natural wave that caught the light and changed with it to gold. Avery body loved Lizzie and petted her: that is, Avery body whose love was worth having. She was welcome and refresing to their hearts as a sunbeam, or a flower, or a singing bird, or a balmy breeze, or a shower at noon in midsummer, .d Liz zie loved her friends warmly and faithfully, without stopping to ask herself why. She did not blind her self to their faults, but she loved them faults and all- She was a rare, sweet child at heart, though fifteen summers had somewhat subdued and softened her too impetuous temperament. They lived with their mother—a widow of mode rate means—in a picturesque village of England, and at the time my story commences were in hourly expectation of a visit from an uncle, by the father's side, supposed to be rich, and known to be cross, gouty and disagreeable. 'Elizabeth,' said Mm. Lincoln, seating herself at a window to watch for his arrival, must once more enjoin upon you, that policy, as well as duty, requires of us to humor your uncle in every whim, to agree with him in all things.' But, mother!' said Lizzie, with a pleading look, I never can act from policy, and as to pretending to agree with him when I don't, that would be an absolute impossibility to me. I will promise to do all that is right to please him.' 'I do not choose to argue the matter, Miss. Re- member that I insist upon your obedience. I only wish you were as precise in other matters as youaro in your absurd notions of right and wrong. You, my dear Priscilla, will, I am sure, obey me without a question. ' Certainly, mamma!' replied the demure young lady in a placid voice. The tears sprung to Lizzy's lovely eyes; but she smiled them away, and going to the piano-forte, be gan to play and sing in a soft, soothing vole°, her mother's favorite song— , Though storms may gather o'er us, The sun will smile again; Though dark the way before We're led by Love's true chain. 'Though sadly heaves the bosom, Joy always follows care; There's many a summer blossom In winter's tangled hair!' Two young and distinguished-looking men, pas sing at the time, involuntarily glanced in through the open window, and as Lizzie raised her head at in going by, she encountered from a pair of dark grey eyes a momentary glance of earnest admiration which she never afterward forgot. For almost the first time in her life, Lizzie Lincoln fell into a deep reverie ; but it was soon broken by the arrival of a carriage, from which alighted a bundle of shawls, flannel, ugliness, gout and grumbling, which was introduced by Mrs. Lincoln to her daughters as their invalid uncle. Lizzie, before Ile entered, had silently placed the easiest chair, with a stool before it, in the pleasantest corner of the room ; but she allowed her mother and sister to assist him into it without offering her aid. My dear sir,' said Mrs. Lincoln, you are look ing ten years younger than when I last saw you, and so like my poor, dear husband l'—her husband by the way had been considered a remarkably hand some man— , Doesn't he, Priscilla ? Doesn't he, Lizzie?' . Very much,' said Priscilla, And nothing said Lizzie; but walked quietly out of the room. . That is a singular young person—that daughter of yours, ma'am'—grumbled the old gentleman, , don't think she take much pains to please her rich uncle,' Oh ! my dear sir, you must forgive her; she is timid to a fault. Is she not, 'Priscilla?' Yes, mamma,' said echo. And where did Lizzie go? My youthful readers, if you have not kind and warm hearts like hers, you will never guess, but I dare say you have, and that you would have done the same thing. She went straight to the spare chamber appropriated to her uncle, to see that every thing was arranged for his comfort, then into the garden, whence she brought fresh flowers to adorn the room, then to her own lit tle chamber, from which she took a bible to lay on the table by his bed and then into the kitchen to oversee the preparations for his supper. Meanwhile, the two young men pursued their walk and their conversation. Yes, my dear Howard,' said he who had attrac ted Lizzie's notice, 'I tell you the simple truth; I am weary of my rank, my wealth, and the insuffer able attentions which they bring upon me front am bitious daughters and manmuvering mommas. How delicious it would be to settle quietly down in this charming village with such a wife as that bright, beautiful, artless-looking girl whom we saw just now through the window ! Hut I fear I shall never mar ry, for I shall always be haunted by the idea that my wealth is the object of attraction. Unless—Ho ward! I have it! Glorious!'—and, with his fine, manly face kindling and glowing with enthusiasm, the young earl passed on in earnest conversation with his friend. Perhaps he will reappear ere the close of the story, but in the mean time we must introduce our readers to a new chapter and a new schoolmaster. CHAPTER 11. ~ Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand." At twenty-two years of ago Charles Welford came to the village of 8-, poor and unknown, but his mild dignity of manner, his prepossessing appear ance, his yoothful and handsome countenance, gain- ed him a host of friends, and the small number of pupils to which he had limited himself was soon made up. Mrs. Lincoln sent Lizzie and Priscilla to be perfected in French and Italian—mid the former made wonderfully rapid progress—if not in the lan guages, at least in the affections of her teacher. Miss Lincoln,' the master would say, endeavor ing, but in vain, to look stern, 'I shall be obliged to detain you after school hours, if you persist in talk ing and laughing;' and Lizzie would blush and maintain a demure composure for the neztthree min utes and a half—then he would hear the little gipsy buzzing away again, for the least sound of her sweet voice always attracted his notice, and calling her to him with a grave face, but inward delight he would point silently to a little chair at his side. Poor Lizzie half pouting, half pleased, with a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye,' would qui etly obey. I rather think Lizzie liked the punish ment upon the whole; for his dark eyes had talked to her soul a language more pleasant than French or Italian—and after looking earnestly up to them for a moment to discover if he were really offended —reassured by the glance of affectionate interest which he returned to her inquiring gaze, she would study for hours by his side, happy and tranquil, and silent as a dove in its woodland nest. Now and then, when she had been more than usually wild and uncontrollable, Mr. Wolfer.] would feel it his duty to detain her after the other pupils had left, in order to give her a serious lecture upon the lightness of her conduct; but the serious lecture generally ended in a long ramble through the woods after flowers to assist their botanical studies. Arid during these rambles would confide to each other's sympathizing hearts their memories, their hopes, their tastes and preferences. Lizzie with all the simple trustful tenderness of a child, and Charles with the frankness natural to a spirit still fresh, pure and untrammeled. ,Do you know, Mr. WeWord,' said Lizzie ono day, 'I would give a great deal that my uncle was poor 1' Poor! Lizzie—what a strange wish! Why!' Oh, because—he is so ill, and cross, and unhap py that I pity him from my heart, and I would be so very, very kind to him if he were not rich ; but as it is, mother makes me treat him coldly.' 'Howl Ido not understand you. Ithought she was all attention to him and wished you to be so too.' KeeWaiga t wa tilh.q mi,v,awan Lint:SA.s. indulge his whims and agree with hint in his queer opinions—and so I make it a rule to be inattentive to him, except in his absence, and then I do all I can for his comfort; but that is not much. I should so like to soothe his pain by reading to him, or sing ing, or caressing him. lam afraid he wont live long, and he seems to suffer a great deal at times— oh ! don't you wish ho were poor?' Lizzie was right ! 11l in mind and body, the un happy old man, was daily wasting away. Of all his relations, of all the world, Lizzie Lincoln was the only one he loved, and she alone of all (Trap rently neglected him. Yes! in spite of her neglect he loved her. Ho struggled against the preference, but in vain ; he could not help it—she was so frank, so sweet, so frolicsome, and, above all, so like his favorite brother. Importuned, beset, followed, fawn ed upon for his wealth alone, he had become disgus ted with life, and his naturally kind heart embittered by suspicion. CHAPTER M. mrrriNs AND MTSTIFICATION. Mrs. Lincoln, don't you prefer cold muffling to hot ones V asked the uncle at breakfast ono day, with a look of dogged determination that rather mystified his auditors. Mrs. Lincoln changed an involuntary wry face into an acquiescent one—if there was any thing she preferred hot rather than cold it was a muffin—and replied, Oh! decidedly my dear sir! They are infinitely more palatable cold, I only ordered hot ones to please you. Wo will have some cold ones immediately. John, bring some cold muffins.' A sardonic smile flickered on the old gentleman's furrowed face as he turned to Priscilla— . And which do you prefer V Priscilla, as usual, glanced at her mother and then replied— 'Cold ones, sir, of course.' Of course,' ho replied sarcastically— ,, And you Miss Lizzie 1' Lizzie looked up frankly in his face—. Uncle,you know I like hot ones best, and I think your taste a very singular one if you prefer them cold.' Who said I preferred them cold I Not I. Come, Lizzie, we will share this nice one together, and here comes John with the cold for your mother and Pris cilla. Hand them to your mistress, John. lam sorry, ladies, you have been eating hot mutliins merely on my account.' And he glanced at Lizzie so comically while her mother reluctantly helped herself to the unpalatable bread, that she could scarcely restrain a smile. CHAPTER IV. DEATH ♦ND DISAPPOINTNIENT. A few weeks after the conversation alluded to in the last chapter, the old man sent for the fatuity to his bedside, which ho had not left for several days, and with a half repressed chuckle of satisfaction, informed them that he had an important secret to reveal. Mrs. Lincoln bent eagerly over hint, Pris cilla seated herself with her usual quiet composure, and Lizrie half drew back. You have repeatedly told me, madam, that it WO3 for my own sake, you valued me so highly—for my own superior qualities of mind and heart, for my striking resemblance to your deceased husband, not for my wealth—that wealth was nothing in the eyes of affection, etc. t thank you as you deserve for this assurance. I will not insult you by a moment's doubt of its sincerity.' Mrs. Lincoln smiled benign ly, and Lizzie turned impatienly to the window.— , I have taken you at, your word, and fully trusting to its truth, have made my will accordingly. It is in the hands of my solicitor. I have left the whole of my vast property, in specie and landed estate— with the exception of a trilling gift to one who is very dear to me—to a distant relative, the only one who has never troubled me with Isis company, his attentions, or his flattery, a poor apprentice at a dry goods store in America." Unable to conceal her disappointment and vexa tion, Mr. Lincoln hurried from the room, Priscilla followed with a still statelier step than usual, and Lizzie, springing from the window, clasped her un cle's hand, exclaiming, lam so glad ! lum so glad ! Now I can nurse you with pleasure, and love you as I choose!" The old man was speechless at first with surprise and joy, at length he exclaimed— , N it possible you really care for me 1' Dear, dear uncle, were you not kind to my poor father in trouble? Did you not assist him with your purse and your influence? and do you think I can ever forget it l' The invalid sunk back on his pillow with closed eyes, through which tears, the first lie had shed for long years, stole over his withered cheeks and mur muring, thank rod fell into a tranquil sleep, still holdipg Lizzie's hand fast locked in his. From that time until his death, which happened in a few days she nursed him with the tenderness and attention of an affectionate daughter. Mrs. Lincoln was agreeably surprised to find on the opening of the will, that the trifling gift to one very dear to him,' was no less than a sum of £2OOO bequeathed to her daughter Elizabeth. The latter generously, or as she said justly, sha red this sum with her mother and sister, and affairs wen: on riiibefore, excepting however the rambles after (lavers in the woods grew lorger and more frequent. We are trying to find the little blue Forget-me not' which Mr. Werfoed is sure grows in these woods somewhere,' said poor Lizzie, blushing and !roiling when one dny a friend questioned her rather CHAPTER V. LIZZIE AND A LOVEII. Autumn had come, with its cheerful firm, its pic nic fetes and evening dances, and with it came to the village of S- a young and wealthy nobleman who fell desperately in love with Lizzie at a party, and one afternoon when she eame into her mother's little parlor looking particularly bewitching in her little straw bonnet and graceful mantilla; and found him there alone, he suddenly offered her his hand and heart. But Lizzie laughed the matter off, by telling hint she could not possibly stop to accept it, as she was in a great hurry to go into the woods, in search of a certain little blue flower called the Forget-me not: Away she tripped, and when she returned en hour after sunset the youth had vanished, and the village that knew him, knew hint no more.' CHAPTER VL Trust me, cousin, nil the current of my being sots to thee. Tennyson, A flood of warm golden light from the setting sun poured in through a vista of the woods, and lighted up a picture there well worthy of such an nomi nation. A young and graceful girl was leaning against the trunk of a noble tree. Her straw bonnet lay on the mossy rock beside her. Her soft curls fell show ering round her face, as she bent over a flower which she held in her hand. It was the little blue , For get-me-not,' from whose mystic petals many a ro mantic village maid had learned her destiny. Leaf after leaf the blushing girl pulled off, murmuring as ' the did so, in a low and trembling tone, half spor tive, half in earnest, , He loves me—he loves me not —he loves me—he loves me not'—only one leaf remained— , lie loves'—the flower was gently with drawn, and the hand that held it pressed passionate ly to the lips of a noble looking youth who had stolen unperceived around the tree. Let me speak for the last loaf, Lizzie,' he whispered, 'lle loves thee more than life! Dear one, may he believe his love returned?' Lizzie smiled through her tears— he drew her to his heart ! For a moment the lingering sunshine rested softly on the fair tableau, then passed and left it to the holier light of love. CHAPTER VII. You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride, How meekly she blest her humble lot, When the stranger William had mark her his bride, And love was the light of their lowly cot.' Have you found the blue Forget-me-not' yet said the good old rector of S—, with a meaning smile, to a fair and white-robed maiden at his side, as they sat with others at the bridal feast about a year after the performance of the forest-tableau.— Lithe Welford looked up in her husband's eyes, which were bent fondly upon her, and smiled, but did not reply. Pleasant and comfortable, but simply furnished, was the cottage in which the schookrater and his beautiful end happy wife passed the first few months of their marriage. Dut Charles grew restless then, and persuaded Lizzie—v.l:o never could sexist his persuasions—to take a little journey with him. Gn their own humble chaise, they travelled through the delightful and richly cultivated country, and Lizzie was enchanted with almost all she saw.— There was but one draw back on her happiness: and that had always been her chief trouble from child hood—her sympathies were too powerful to allow her to behold poverty or misery in uny shape with out a pang of pity and an ardent wish to relieve it; and this her humble means would riot always allow her to do. As shepassed some beggars on the road to whom she had thrown some silver, she turned to her husband with tears in her eyes and said— . Oh, Charles ! I never care for wealth for my own sake, but would it not be a divine happiness to possess the power of relieving others V Charles smiled, rather too gaily she thought, but be pressed her hand so tenderly that she could not chide him. At the close of the second day's jour ney, they came to a beautiful and extensive park, and then a glimpse of a magnificent ntansion. Liz zie thought it must be a palace. Ilea eyes flashed with delight, and then filled with tears. film was excited and nervous she knew not why. She had read of such places, but she had never seen one, and she begged Charles to stop the chaise fur a few mo ments, that she might gaze her fill. .We will drive through the park,' said her husband, I know the ewer well.' She thought his voice trembled, and looking up in his face she SAW that it was lighted up with a glow of lofty exultation, which so well be came his refined and aristocratic beauty that she involtarily raised his hand to her lips and kissed it fondly, yet with a vague fear for which she could not account. They drove through the park to the principal enjeance of the house; as they approached it was flung wide open, and from a train of liveried servants stepped forth an old man, who smiled an earnest welcome as he respectfully assisted Charles to alight. Lizzie was dumb with wonder. 4 Come,' said her husband, holding out his hand, Where are you taking me, Charles 7' !To my home! dear Lizzie,' he exclaimed, pres sing her fondly to his bosom, as he bore her half fainting into the library, where a pleasant fire was kindled. • Welcome to my home—to the home of my father! my own, my precious wife!' And who then are you, husband'!' asked the bewildered and half frightened Lizzie, tinting on a sofa by his side. My dear Howard,' said he laughing, to a 1 oung Doors you-maxima me nurouuut roc to soy The Earl of E—, dear madam,' said his friend, coming forward with a smile. The Earl of E—, cweet countess, e Awed Charles, think you that dear foiehCad will ache beneath this toy ?' And taking from a casket a coronet of diamonds, he placed it on her hood and kissed her tearful eyes. ' And what did the youth ful countess do? Forgive her Etiquette! Forgive her Mr. Howard!. Site was weary—ahnost ex hausted with excitement and fatigue—and closing her lashes still wet with tears, upon her husband's shoulder, she murmured a blessing upon his name, and fell fast asleep like a tired child, as she was ! Courteous reader ! if you have not already followed her example you may do so now—for my story is ended. INISTAIVS EZlEfiArii D el! lIEld fl , For Consumption of the Lungs. Cr7 - 3-aNcE , MV.t. ` I ,..Q.cEa , T. - v\cm)cri 2 Affections ado. Liver, Asthma, Bronchitis, Pains or Weakness of thy Breast or Lungs, Chronic Coughs, Pleurisy, Hemorrhage of the Lungs, ;and all atkctious of the Pulmonary Organs Nature's own P'escrip'ion. A compound Balsamic preparation of the Pruntta Virginiana of V. ild Cherry Bark,' combined with the Extract of Thr, prepa• red by a chemical process, approved and recommended by the most distinguished physicians, and universally acknowledged the lust valuable medicine ever discovered. No Quackery ! ! No Deception In setting forth the virtues of this truly great medicine, we have no desire to tieceive those who are aboring under the affliction, nor do we wish to eulogize it more than it deserves. Yet we look around and see the vast anteont of suffering and disiTess occa sioned by many of the diseases in which this medicine has proved so highly successful, we feel that we cannot urge its claims Lou strongly, or say too much in its favor. Various remedies it is true have been of fel ed and putted into notice for the cure ot diseases of the Lungs, and some hive no doubt beets found very useful. hat all that have yet been discovered, it is admitted by physicians and all others who have witness ed its effects, that none have proved as suc cessful as this. Such, indeed, are the Surpming Virtues Of this Balsam, that even in the advanced stases at Consumption, after all the most esteemed temu dies of physicians have failed to effect any change, the one of this medi cine has been productive of the most aston ishing relief, and actually effected cares atter all hopes of recovery had been dis paired of, In the first stage of the disease, termed Catarrhal Consumption, orie,itriting from neglected COLDS, it has beau ward with no ; den iating success, nod hundreds acknowl edge they owe the restnrati , on of their health to this invaluable medicine alone, in that form of consumption se prevalent amongst delicate young females, dog:manly torstita debility, or Zflc " G3ing into a Decline," A complaint with which thousands are lin gering, it has also proved highly successful, and not only possesses the power of checking the progress of this alarming complaint, but also strengthens and invigorates the system more efllt tually than any medicines we have ever possessed. . . _ 4ides its suprising efficacy in consumpz firm, it is cqually efficacious in Liver Gun plaint, Asthma, Bronchitis, and all aft,c , tions of the Lungs, and has cured many of the mist obstinate cases, after every abet' remedy had failed. t ry- Fur particulars see Dr. Mi istor's treaties on consumption, to be had of the agents. WHILE LIFE REMAINS WE STILL HAVE SOM X FICPE A SURPRISING Conm.---Among the many singular cures which this medicine has ef fected, there is perhaps none in which its powers are so Wily shown as in the case of Mrs. Austin. This lady has been Consumptive for seve ral years, and during the greater part of this time had received the best medical attention, and tried all the most valuable remedies, yet nothing could be found to arrest its progress. She b-came subject to violent fits of cough ing, expectorated large quantities of Matter occasionally tinged with blood, and . step by step this fearful disease continued its course, until all hopes of a recovery was des paired of. While in this distressing situa tion, lingering upon the very verge of the grave; she commenced the fuse of this Bal sam, which, to use her own expression, op perated almost like a charm. In a few days she expectorated freely, the cough Nas gra dually suppressed, and every day appeared to add fresh vigor to her looks, and now, in the place of that emaciated form withering to decay, she is seen mingling in society, in better health ti t an she has enjoyed for years. DISINTERESTED TEsvisioNv.----Having witnessed the sot prising efficacy of Dr: Wistaes Balsam of Wild Cherry, in the case of Mrs. Austin, I cheerfully acknowl edge the above statement to be ti ne and cur root. J. C. ‘VALTERS; M. D. LIVER COMPLAINT.---MrS. Eligl Thomp son was afflicted with this complaint for nearly live years, during which time she sVaS under the most skilful physicians—had tried Mercury, Botanic and Itomcepathic rem . , dies, and every thing that offered her any hopes of relief. She had dull, wandering pains in her side, sometimes in the shoulder and small of the back, a hacking cough, fre quent pains in the breast, and had been him- • hie to sleep on her right side for three years. By the use of this Balsam she was cured in a few weeks, and remains well to this dar. ELIZA THOMPSON. cute IldS at, r , a,Wriswkitqw.v.“Fetnt,4,,l44:l-.... advocates, it still may be gratifying toyod to receive a communication from any one that has been relieved by It. Such. sir is truly my case. Ibr ire been a victim of that terri ble disease consumption, for many months, and have suffered so much, that I had come almost weary of my life. fleAring your Balsam SO highly praised, I began ta king a few weeks back, and can assure you that it has relieved me more than any thing I have ever used before, and 1 con fi dently believe it will cure me e ' ff..ctually. Please give the bearer the worth of the enclosed, and oblige.. Yotirs Respectfully, JOHN PEARSON. Chester county, Sept 6, 1841. Film! Wistart—lt gives me much plea , . st;re to inform thee that my wife's health has improved very much since she has been using thy Rilsam of \Vild Cherry, mid we think there is no doubt it will cure her. She has taken the two bottles 1 purchased from thee a short time since, mid her cough is much better, she also ski ps well at night, and says she has found nothing to give her so much relief. Thee will please give the bearer two bottles more for Toy Friend, ED WAR D Hormts, Q 7" Read the following from Di% Jacob Hoffman, a physician of extensive practice in Huntingdon count" : Dean• Sit procured one bottle of Dr. Wistar's Masao, of Wild Cherry, from Thomas Read, Esq. of this place, and tried it in a case of obstinate Asthma on a child of Paul Schweble, in which many other rem e dies had been tried without any relief. The Balsam gave Sudden relief, and in my opin ion the child is effectuelly cured by its use. Yours. a tc. JACOB HOFFMAN, M. D. Dec. 23, IR4I. Dean• Sir:—Your Balsam of Wild Cherry has t Mcted some astonishing cures here.— One of which i e au Old lady, Mrs. Russe!, who has been suffering for a lung time with shortness of breathing, and general Weak ness, until she was finally (bilged to keep her bed. Mtn various other remedies had Fir en resorted to in vain, she commenced using your Balsam, and after taking two bot tles was so Inr recovered an to be able to at tend to all the duties of her house, and on taking twu lucks more was entirely cured. Respectfully &c., JOHN S. C. MARTIN, Pottsville, Pa, CA tyr lON.—As there is n spurious mix• turn called Syrup of Wild Cherry, purcha sers should be particular to ask for Dr. 11 haw Balsam, and Lbserve his Signature on the bottle. Prepared for the pi oprietor, and sold at wholesale by Williams & Co., ehelnists, No. 21 Minor street, Philadelphia, Anld also in almost every town in i he United States. Price one dollar per bout, . . l'or sale by 7'hoinas krud, Huntingdon, and James Orr, Hollidaysburg. November 30, 1342. A. K. CORNYN, ATTOII3III7 14177 a UNTING DON, PA. OAT in Main a'reel, guy, doors Zvi at Mrs. MCCOA3 , ( 7 . 3 Torperance Hozioe.