Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, January 11, 1848, Image 1
4 1 . t • 1 1 'IA - • A • BY JAMES CLARK VOT,, XTIT, NO. 2. TERMS The " HUNTINGDON JOURNAL" will be pupliehed hereafter at the following rates, viz 1111.75 a year, if paid in advance; $2.00 if paid during the year,and $2.50 if not paid un til after the expiration of the year. The above terma to he adhered to in all case.. No subscription taken for less than six months, end no paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher. ci:j . To Clubs of six, or more, who pay in ad vance, the Journal will be sent at *1.50 per copy for one year; and any one who will send us that number of names accompanied with the money. shall receive the Journal one year for his trouble. CHEERING NEWS. DAROER & MORROW having purchased tho stock of goods lately owned by Joule Power' & Co.and rented their old and well known stand, respectfully beg leave to inform those who desire to purchase CHEAP GOODS, that they are now receiving a splendid addition to their present Leavy supply, which enables them to say, without boasting. that their establishment 'eunnot be surpassed in Lewistown, either in the excellence anal variety of their assortment of all kind. of goods, or the Lowness of their Prices. As seeing is Ire'ieving. they most cordially invite all to come and examine for themselves. Their goods will be exhibited by polite and attentive salesmen. whose pleasure it wall ever be to wait cheerfully upon those who may favor them with a call, and endeavor to gain their confidence by fait• dealing. Here Cloths, Cassimeres, Satinelts 4. Vesting, of every hue and shade may be found, to please the most fastidious taste. Ladies' Dress Goods in endless variety; con sisting in part of silks, satins, plain and figured; cashmeres, mous de !wines, ('aledmria, Lama, Cal ifornia, Jenny Lind and Opera plaids; English and French inerinoes; alpacas, striped and plain; lustres, and a splendid assortment of calicoes at unusually low prices. Ladies' and Getilleniens . Scarfs Terkeri, cashmere, blanket, and home-made shawls; rib bons, fringes, gimps, and trimmings of all kinds, together with a beautiful assortment of fancy goods. A fine stock of Boots and Shoes, lace boots and slippers, metallic and gui shoes. Hate and eaps:and any quantity of Ready:illude Clothing, at ouch prices as cannot fail to please the moat care• fat purchnocr, and cause even the Jews to be amn• zed!!! _ _ Groceries of all kinds; Hardware, Cedar-ware, Queensware, Nails and Spikes, Iron of all sizes, and every variety of Steel. Also, Plaster, Salt and Fish constantly on hand. In short, everything useful and ornamental may he found at this establishment that W usually wen ted by the community. and at such prices as only require comparison with the prices of similar Atli des elsewhere. to enable the purchaser to decide that he has lost nothing in buying of 13.titaztt & Nlouttow. TO F.ARIVIERS The highrst price will be paid in CASH for Wheat, live, Corn, Cloverseed, Oats, &c. All kinds of marketing taken in exchange for Goods. PURCHASERS may confidently rely that all articles sold here will prove to be as represented, if not, they con be returned and the money will be refunded. BARGER & MORROW. Lewistown, January 4, 1848. MORE NEW GOODS! At the Cheap Corner ! THE subscriber has just received another large and well selected stock of WINTER GOODS, among which may be found all kinds of ladies Dress Goods. ALL KINDS Of STAPLE DRY-GOODS A splendid assortment of Calicoes at low er prices than ever was known. Boots and Slioes—Caps and Bonnets : .MUFFS and MITTENS; also, liewdware, fineensware and Grticeries. Persons wishing to purchase CHE.RP GOODS, will find that they will be ac commodated at the Cheap Corner. Goods shown with pleasure at all times; they shall be thrown down on the counter end therefore save you the trouble of pointing them out with the yard stick. Thankful for past favors, I still hope to receive a liberal share of public patron age. JNO. N. PROWELL. "CHEAP Comm'," Huntingdon, Dec. 21, 1847.5 di OTIC THE stockholders of the Juniata Bridge com• pany in Huntingdon county, are hereby no tified that an election will be held at the house of C. Couts, in the borough of Huntingdon, on Tuesday the eleventh day of January next, for the purpose of electing one President, six mana ger. and one Secretary and Treasurer, to manage the concerns of said company for the ensuing year, d2l-te.l JAMES GWIN, Sec'y. siiamrs. SOME time inNovember last there came to the residence of the sub scriber living in Franklin township, Huntingdon county, one red and white steer, about three years old, and one red and white and one brindled heifer, about three years old. The owners thereof are hereby requested to come forward, prove property, pay charges and take them away, or otherwise they will be disposed of according to law. d2l-3t.] JONA. M'\VILLIAMS. PRIVATE SALE. THE subscriber offers for sale a tract of land situated in Tyrone township, Blair county, three miles from Tyrone Forges, containing One hundred and ten acres, the principal part Limestone Land, in a high state of cultivation, with wa ter in all the fields except one ' • a Foun tain Pump at the barn, and running water at the house. The improvements are—Two Dwelling Houses, a .. good Bank Barn and Stable, a iii Cabinet Makers' Shop, Wagon House, Carriage House, Cider Mill, and other out-buildings, all sub stantial and in good repair. Also, a new Draw Kiln for burning Lime. There is also on this farm an : t sv Orchard of Two Hundeed apple 4 54.4% Trees nearly all of the very best j grafted fruit. ri _ _ r, The Central Railroad will pass within three miles of the above property. JAMES E. STEWART. • Nov. 30, 1847-tim. THE GREAT CENTRAL L.r—C HAT AND CAP STORE, Wholesale and Itched, No. 284 Market Street, Ninth door above Eighth Street, South side, PHILADELPHIA, Comprises onebf the largest and most beautiful as• sortmeut of HATS, CAPS and MUFFS in the Union, and of the latest and most approved styles, manufactured under the immediate superintendence of the Subscriber, i.t the beat manner, of prima materials, and will be sold at the lowest possible prices for cash. The assortment embraces a splendid variety of Silk, Moleskin, Beaver, Brush, Russia, Nutria, and other HATS of beautiful finish, and a complete stock of all kinds of Cloth, Glazed, Fur and Plush CAPS, of the most desirable patterns, together with a supply of Muff's, Furs, Buffalo Robes, &c. Country Merchants and others are respectfully invited to examine the stock, which they will find it their advantage to do before purchasing, as it is his determination, having adopted the cash system. to sell for Cash only, and at the lowest prices. dec7•6m.] JOHN FAREIRA, Jr. A n toU I. CA lAA V! A GREA'r number of valuable lives were very _A nearly sacrificed in the rush to H. K. Noir & B1111':4 WATCH & JEWELRY STORE in Markel Square. There you will see Cold and Silver Levers of every style, quality and price. Also, gold fob, chains, guard chains and keys of every descriptlon.4 Breast Pins and finger rings in great variety; gold and silver pencils, silver thimbles, tooth and nail blushes, steel beads, clasps for bogs end purses, purse silk. spectacles, accordions, gold pens of su perior quality, pen holders, a fine assortment of Caney stationery. motto wafers, fancy boxes, perfu mery, Diarie s for 1848, envelopes, &c. &c. . . Call and examine, before it is too late. Clock and Watch repairing done as usurd,llllti warranted. ELLWOOD SHANNON, Dealer iss Teas, Warehouses 63 Chesnut above Second and Elev. emit and Chesnut Streets, Philadelphia, AS constantly in Store, a ehoich as. H sortment of Fresh Imported, GREEN AND BLACR. TEAS. Country Merchants are invited to call at 63 Chesnut street, and examine his stock, which ho (Airs nt the lowest wholesale prices, for Cash. and where ho attends personally. (d7.6m, .11DOLLAISTR.1TORS' NOTICE. Estate of Richard Bradley, late of Cass township, deceased. L . • ETTERS of administration having been granted to the undersigned on said estate, all persons having claims against the same are requested to present them for settlement, and those indebted are requested to make immediate pay tnent to them. GEO. HUDSON, JONA. MILLER, dec2B-6t.] SADDLE, HARNESS AND TRUNK JILIATIF.ICTOIR ffrcbctick Breit, R"PEGI FULLY returns thanks t.) his friends and the public for past favors, and takes this °ppm (unity to inform them that ho still continues at the old stand, one door east of Car moues Tavern, and nearly opposite the Post Of fice, where he is at all times prepared to manufac ture All kinds of Harness, Saddle:, Trunks, Mat tresses, Sofas, Cushions, etc. etc., at the shortest notice and most reasonable pricer. _ . All kinds of hides and skins, and country pro. duce, for which the highest market prices will he allowed, taken in exchange. Huntingdon, Aug. 31, 1347. Full all Mastery Goods. UWIM a 7- 11/glia o OCYII@o Importers and Dealers in Silks, Ribbons and Mil Unary Goods, .No. 45 South Second Street, Philadelphia, ARE now opening for the Fall Trade a very rich assortment of Mil Unary Goods, a largo proportion of which are of their own importation, viz:—Bonnet Silk., figured and plain. Bonnet Satins, of all colors and gualties. • Fancy Bonnet and Cap Ribbons, a very hand some assortment. Silk Plush.. Silk Velvets, black and colored, of all qualities French and American Arrificiol Flower.. Riney Laces, Cap Stuffs, Lace Trimmings. Bonnet Crowns, Tips, Buckram., Willows, Pre. They have also received by the late arrivals a very beautiful assortment of Fancy Feathers, direct from the manufacturers in Paris. Phila. sept. 7, '47. [CORRECT PRINCIPLES-817PPORTE0 BY Tit/TIT.] HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, JANUARY 11, 1848. THE STORY OF THE BELL. BY CLARA CUSHMAN The village was small, and the church was not a cathedral, but a quiet, unos tentatious, stone chapel, half covered by climbing plants, and a forest of dark trees round it. They shaded the inte rior so completely in the summer after noons, that the figure of the altar piece —painted, the villagers averred, by Al brecht Durer—could scarcely be distin guished, and rested upon the broad can vass a mass of shadowy outlines. A quaint carved belfry rose above the trees, and in the bright dawn of the Sabbath a chime sweet and holy floated from it, calling the villagers to their de votions ; but the bell whose iron tongue gave forth that chime was not the hell that my story speaks of—there was an other, long before that was cast, that had hung for years, perhaps a century, in the same place. But now it is no lon ger elevated ; its tongue is mute, for it lies upon the ground at the foot of the church tower, broken and bruised. It is half buried in the rich mould, and there are green stains creeping over it, eating into its iron heart : no one needs it now, for those who had brought it there are sleeping coldly and silently all around in the church-yard. The shadow of these dark trees rests on many graves. How came the old bell to be dins ne glected? A new generation arose— " See," they said, 44 the church where our parents worshipped fall to decay.— Its towers crumble to dust. The hell has lost its silver tone; it is cracked, it is broken. We will have a new tower, and another bell shall call us to our wor ship." So the old belfry was destroyed, and the old bell lay at the foundation. It was grieved at the cruel sentence, but it scorned to complain; it was voiceless. They came weeks after to remove it ; the remains would still be of use ; but strive as they would, no strength was able to raise the bell. It had grown pon derous ; it defied them ; rooted to the earth as it seemed. "They cannot make me leave my post," thought the bell. "[ will still watch over this holy spot; it has been my care for years." Time passed, and they strove no lon ger to remove the relic. Its successor rang clearly from 'the tower above its head, and the old bell slumbered on, in the warm sunshine and the dreary storm, unmolested and almost forgotten. The afternoon was calm - but the sun's rays were most powerful. A brieht, no ble boy had been walking listlessly un der the whispering trees; he was in high health, and was resting from eager exercise, for there was a flush upon his open brow, and as he walked he wiped the beaded drops from his forehead. Ah, here is the place," he said : " I will lie down in this cool shade, and read this pleasant volume." So the youth stretched his wearied limbs upon the velvet grass, and his head rested near the old bell ; but lie did not know it, for there was a low shrub with thick serrated leaves and fragrant blossoms spreading over it, and the youth did not care to look beyond. Presently the letters in his book be gan to grow indistinct; there was a mist creeping over the page, and while he wondered at the marvel, a low, clear voice spoke to him. Yes it called his name, "Novalis." "I am here," said the lad, though he could see no one. He glanced upward and around, yet there was no living crea ture in sight. "Listen," said the voice. "I have not spoken to mortal for many years.— Illy voice was hushed nt thy birth.— Come, I will tell thee of it." Tho youth. listened, though he was sadly amazed. He felt bound to the spot, and he could not close his ears. "Time has passed swiftly," said the voice, "since I watched the children who are now 'men and women, at their sports in the neighboring forest. I look ed out from my station in the old tower, and morning and evening beheld with joy those innocent faces, as they ran and bounded in wild delight, fearless of the future, and careless of the present hour. They were all my children, for I had rejoiced at their birth; and if it was ordained thut the Good Shepherd early called one of the lambs to His bosom, I tolled not mournfully, but solemnly at the departure. I knew it was far better for those who slept thus peacefully, and I could not sorrow for them. I marked one, a fair, delicategirl, who often separated herself from her merry companions. She would leave their noi sy play, and stealing with her book and work through the dark old trees, would sit for hours in the shadow of the tow er. Though she never came without a volume, such an one as just now you were reading, the book was often neg lected ; and leaning her head upon her hand, she would remain until the twi light tenderly veiled her beautiful form, wrapt in a deep, still musing. I knew that her thoughts were holy and pure— often of heaven, for she would raise her eyes to the bending sky, jewelled as it was in the evening hour, and seem in prayer, though her lips moved not, and the listening breezes could not catch a murmured word. But the girl grew up innocent as in her childhood, yet with a rosier flush upon her cheeks, and a brighter lustre in her dreamy eye. I did not sec her so often, but when my voice on the bright Sabbath morning called those who love the good Father to come and thank him for his wondrous mercy and goodness, she was the first to obey the summons; 1 and I watched the snowy drapery which she always wore, as it fluttered by the dark foliage, or gleamed in the glad sunshine. She did not come alone, for • her grandsire ever leaned upon her arm, ' and she guided his uncertain steps and listened earnestly to the words of wis dom which he spoke. Then I marked that often another joined the group—a youth who had been her companion years ago, when she was a very child. Now they did not stray as then, with arms entwined, and hand linked in hand ; but the youth supported the grandsire, and she walked beside him, looking tim idly upon the ground, and if by chance he spoke to her, a bright glow would arise to her lips and forehead. Never did my voice ring out for a merrier bridal than on the morn when ' they were united, before the altar of this very church.—All the village rejoiced with them, for the gentle girl was as a sister and a daughter; all said that the youth towhoin she had plighted her troth was well worthy of the jewel he had gained. The old praised, and the young admired, as the bridal party turned to wards their home, a simple, vin e-shaded . cottage, not a stone's throw front where thou art lying. They did not forget the God who bestowed so much happiness on them, even in the midst of pleasure; and often they would come in the hush of twilight, and kneeling by the altar, give -thanks for all the mercies they had received. Two years—long as the period may seem to youth—glide swiftly past when , the heart is not at rest. Then once more n chime floated from the belfry. It was at early dawn, when the mist was lying on the mountain's side, and the dew hid trembling in the hare bells, frighted by the first beams of the rising day. A son had been given them, a bright, health- Gil babe, with eyes blue as the mother's , who elapsed him to her breast, and ded icated him with his first breath to the Parent who had watched over her or phaned youth, and had given this tress ore to her keeping. That bright day faded, and even came sadly upon the face of nature. Deep and mournful was the tone which I flung ; upon the passing wind and the fir trees of the forest sent back a moan from their swaying branches, heavily swaying as if for syntpathy. Life wns that day given, but another hnd been recalled.— The young mother's sleep wns not bro ken even by the wailing voice of her first born, for it was the repose of death. They laid her beside the very spot where she had passed so many hours; and then 1 knew it wns the grave of her parents which she so loved to visit. The son lived and the father's grief abated when lie saw the boy growing into the image of his mother ; and when the child, with uncertain footsteps, had dared to tread upon the velvet grass, the father brought him to the church-yard, and clasping his little hands as he knelt beside him, taught the babe that lie had also a Father in lleaven. I have lain since that time nlmost by her side, for my pride was humbled when they removed me from the station I hnd so long occupied. My voice has been hushed from that sorrowful night even till now, but I am compelled to speak to thee. Boy ! Boy ! it is thy mother of whom I have told thee! Two lives were given for thine ! thy mother, who brought thee into the world—thy saviour, who would give thee a second birth—they have died that thou mightest live : and for so great a sacrifice how much will be required of thee ! See to it that thou art not found wanting when a reckoning is required of thee." Suddenly as it had been borne to his ears the voice became silent. The boy started as from a deep sleep and put his hand to his brow. The dew lay damp upon it—the shades of evening had crept over the church-yard ; and he could scarce discern the white slab that mark ed the resting-place of his mother. It may have been a dream—but when he searched about him for the old bell, it was lying with its lip very near to the fragrant pillow on which he had reposed. Thoughtfully and slowly the boy went towards his home, but though he told no one, not even his father, what had be fallen hini, the story of the old bell was never forgotten, and his future life was influenced by its remembrance. THE CASTLE OF UHAVUTEPEC The following description of the Cas tle of Chapoltepec; near the city of Mex ico, is contained in a letter from Lieut. A. G. Sutton, of the 15th infantry, who, with his two sons, fought and greatly distinguished theinselveS in the battles of the 2,oth of August and 13th of Sep telpher. The letter was written to a gentleman in this city, without any idea of its publication. It is dated Colegia Minter, City of Mexico, October 30, 184.7. He says : Not having seen any attempt at a de scription of the castle we now garrison, I will try to give you a brief sketch of it, though, from the limited time I have to write, it will undoubtedly be very imperfect. The great Castle of Chnpol tepee—the COLEGIO MILITAR, or West Point, of Mexico—is situated about two miles westwardly from the capital, on the summit of an abrupt bluff, which suddenly lifts itself from the valley to the altitude of 150 feet perpendicularly. The bluff is steep and rocky, and cover ed with small stumps of trees and a low undergrowth of brambles and shoots ; the large trees having been cut away, to be out of the range of their artillery. The whole fortress, or work of defence, is about 300 yards in length, and the terreplein and main buildings about 600 feet. The castle is about 40 feet high, and the whole structure,including the wings, bastions, parapets, redoubts, and batter ies, Is very strongly built, and of the most splendid architecture. A splendid dome decorates the top, rising in great majesty about '2O feet above the whole ' truly grand and magnificent pile, and near which is the front centre, support ed by a stone arch, upon which is paint ed the coat-of-arms of the republic, where once floated the tri-colored ban. ner, but is now decorated by the gluri ous stars and stripes of our own happy land. Two very strongly-built stone walls surround the whole; and at the west end, where we stormed the works, the outer walls arc some ten feet apart, and twelve or fifteen feet high, over which we charged by the help of fas eines. It was defended by heavy artil lery, manned by the most learned and skilful gunners of their army, including some French artillerists of distinction. The infantry force consisted of the offi cers and students of the institution, and the national guards, and chosen men of war of the republic—the whole under the command of General Bravo, whom see mate prisoner. The whole hill is spotted with forts and outposts, and stone and mud walls, which were filled with their picket or castle guard. A huge high stonewall extends around the whole frowning craggy mount, and an other along the southeast base, midway from the former nod the castle. A wall ed paved road leads up in a triangular form to the main gate entering the south terreplein ; and the whole works are in geniously and beautifully ornamented I with Spanish fastidiousness and skill. A view of Chapoltepec, the residence of the once powerful prince Montezuma, as you come down the sunny valley of Anahuac, is a sight the most enchant- ing in the open volume of natures de lightful scenery. A mountain range en circles this lovely valley, the uneven rugged peaks of whose bluffs, like the gems of India, are ever and anon lit up by the freaks of sun-shine, that drive the dark shades from their gorges, and play in sportive majesty on their proud summits Popocataptl is in full view southeastwardly from us. This was formerly a volcano; but for a long time has been slumbering. She will, doubt less, again vomit up her fiery bowels up on the pleasant valleys that lie like car pets at her rugged base. She is cover ed with perpetual snows, upon which the rays of the sun fall with a lustre that dazzles brighter than the jewels of Golconda. Two calm glassy lakes, Tescuco (salt) and Chalco (fresh water) ornament the scenery, closing the capital in a womb of waters, like the ancient city of Tyre. Ornamental shrubbery, splendid acque ducts, arches, cisterns, and sculptured stone statuary decorate the avenues and main entrances to the city. Three cost ly and ingeniously made acqueducts convey the water from the highlands to the grand plaza, and the whole land scape is dotted with haciendas and mod est little churches, whose spires glitter through the green trees with a silver sheen quite ravishing. But nothing ex cept convents, nunneries, cathedrals and churches, has any prominence in the view towards the city. Upon the whole EDITOR AND i'RatlETOlt - WHOLE NO. 624 a view from Chapultepec is like a View from Etna—you fOl abote the world, enraptured with the delightful Scenery that fills your vision. We had a grand revel in the halls of the Montezumas on the eVening of the 28th October, and intend having anOth Cr soon. POT ER OF AVARICE, The following narrative refers to the Senior partner in the great New York house, which lately became a bankrupt: In early life, Mr. Prime was an ostler, and was quite famous for the cleverness with which he handled the curry-comb. He married a Miss —, the offspring of some successful worshipper of the golden idol, and began to curry men in stead of horses. When he had got un it'aY,' and scraped together a few thousand, he actually got an invitation to a dinner party, where there were, perhaps, two or three gentlemen ;though as the dinner was given by a New York financier, of course the conversation was occupied with the all-absorbing topic of money making. He eagerly entered in to the conversation, and closed some very shrewd remarks, observing—ii if could borrow 435,000, I would double it in six months, and return the principal with seven per cent interest." NN hat security can you givel" ask ed one of the party, a planter from Charleston. The security of the word of an hon est man," said the adventurer. "I have none other to offer at present." " You shall have the money," said the planter. Mr. P. realized as he expected, and returned the loan. Years passed on, and the "financial genieus ' earned his tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands. He served his master faithfully, and verily he did not go without his reward. But the planter in the meantime, had met with sad reverses. He was a poor man. He was on the verge of ruin, in a worldly point of view. To save the remnant or his estate, he came to New York, in order to make an effort to raise some money. He thought of Mr. P.— He waited on the great New York bank er. He asked a loan of $3,000;, it would save him from utter destruction. What security 1" demanded the Christian Shylocli, " Really, 11r. P., I must answer as you answered me. I have nothing to give but the word of an honest man!" " Oh ! that be d-d l" said the most righteous banker. " That won't go cur rent in Wall street." The rich man retires] from business with a million, and " died as the fool dieth," committing suicide under the delusion that he was a poor man. Amid all his wealth, horrid images of want and famine, haunted the man of gold. The Toil of a Newspaper. Newspaper literature is a link in the great chain of miracles which proves the greatness of England and every support should be givin to newspapers. The editors of these papers must have a most enormous tusk. It is not the writing of the leading part itself, but the obliga tion to write that article every week whether included or not, in sickness or in health, in affliction, disease of mind, winter and summer, year after year,. tied down to the task, remaining in one spot. It is something like the walking of a thousand miles in a thousand hours. I have a fellow-feeling, for I know how a periodical will wear down ones exis tence. In itself, it appears nothing.— The labor is not manifest, nor is it the labor, it is the continual attention which it requires. Your life becomes, as it were, the publication. One week is no sooner corrected, and printed, than on conies another. It is the stone of Slay phus, an endless repetition of toil, a constant weight upon the mind, a con tinual wearing upon the intellect and spirit, demanding nll the exertion of your faculties, at the same time that you are compelled to do the severest drud gery. To write for a paper is very well, but to edit one is to condemns yourself to slavery.—Maryatt. A PR ETTYD r. P , who is attached to the Parisan theatre in qual ity of a physician, expressed his aston ishment that man and women were not created nt the same time, instead of the latter springing from the rib of our first parent. A young actress standing by, remarkable for the graceful turn which she gives to the expression of her ideas, immediately said—" Was it not natural, sir, for the flower to come after the stem'!" An Irish orator, speaking of an oppo nent's love of praise, described him as so vain in that respect, that he would be con tent to give up the ghost, if it were but to look up and read the stone-cutters puff on his grave.