Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, August 21, 1851, Image 1

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From the Louisville Journal.
Here is a little piece of poetry that will fill the
heart of every reader with sunshine.
Playing on the carpet near one
Is a little cherub girl;
And her presence, much I fear me,
Sets my senses in a whirl;
For a book is open lying
Full of grave philosophying,
And I own I'm vainly trying!
There my thoughts to hold.
But, in spite of my essaying,
They will evermore be straying
To that cherub near me playing,
Only two years old.
While her hair so long and flaxen,
And her sunny eyes of blue,
And her cheek so plamp and waxen,
She is charming to the view.
Then her voice to all who hear it
Breathes a sweet entrancing spirit;
Oh ! to be forever near it
Is a joy untold—
For 'tis ever sweetly telling,
To my heart with rapture swelling,
Ot affection inly dwelling—
Only two years old.
With a new delight I'm hearing,
All her sweet attempts at words,
In their melody endearing,
Sweeter far than any bird's;
And the musical mistaking,
Which her baby lips are making,
From my heart a charm is waking,
Firmer in its hold,
Than the charms so rich and glowing,
From the Roman lip o'erilowing ;
Then she gives a look so knowing;
Only two years old !
Now her ripe and honied kisses
(Honied, ripe, for me alone,)
Thrill my soul from various blissos,
Venus never yet has known.
When her twining arms are round me,
All domestic joy Lath crowned me.
Never to grow cold.
Oh ! there's not this side of Aidenn,
Aught with loveliness so laden.
As my little cherub maiden,
Only two years old.
Man is so constituted, that after enga
ging either in physical or mental labor
for a certain number of hours every day, a
feeling of fatigue is induced, and he sinks
into a state of unconsciousness for a num
ber of hours, and then awakens with as na
ture refreshed," and ready to toil for profit
or pleasure. It is a necessary part of our
existence to enjoy sleep, and the more un
interrupted the sleep, the more refreshing
it is. It is during the hours of sleep that
the electric battery of the nervous system is
replenished with invigorating power. It is
therefore a matter of no little consequence
to examine into the means which will tend
to refreshing repose. The state of the bo
dy before going to bed, the kind of bed,
blothes and ventilation must all be then ta
ken into account. A full meal before go
ing to bed, generally causes unpleasant
night visitations and broken Sleep ; there
fore it should be avoided. It is not as re
freshing for a person to lie on the back as
on the side, and the right side is the best,
although many from habit feel no uneasi
ness from lying on their backs, or on their
left sides.
In regard to the kind of beds most suita
ble for refreshing slumber, there are differ
ences of opinion ; some for hard beds. The
difference between the two is this—" the
weight of the body on a soft bed presses
on a larger surface than on a hard bed,
and consequently more comfort is enjoyed:"
Children should never be allowed to sleep
On hard beds, and parents err who suppose
that such beds contribute to health, har
dening and developing the constitution of
Children. We have read accounts of a
few quilts being good beds for children in
the summer ; others " a corn husk mat
tress," or " a pine board with a piece of
*mien laid upon it." The latter kind of
ed is a gross violation of laws for the
preservation of health. Eminent physi
cians, Dr, Darwin among the number, state
that " hard beds" have frequently proven
injurious to the shape of infants. Birds
cover their nests for their offspring with
the softest down or the most vetrety moss.
The softness of a bed is no evidence of its
being unhealthy—and they have a poor
understanding of the laws of nature who
ilwittk otherwise.
To render sleep refreshing, the body
bhould be bathed every night ; the bed
s p;;AtiL L.. 4 „,
n i n ilingb Ott
\ I ,
room should be of large dimentions ;—not
the life-destroying boxes, named bed rooms,
for which our cities are famous, owing to
the value of city property. From currant
statistics, it has been observed that the
deaths of children of poorer classes under
ten years of age, in proportion to the chil
dren of higher classes, are as ten to five.—
Poor beds are one cause of of this mortali
ty. Above all things, however, it should
never be overlooked, that cleanliness tends
more to healthful sleep than any thing
In warm weather, night clothes should
be light, and a thin blanket is perhaps the
best covering that can bo used, but many
assert that a cotton sheet is preferable,
and if the clothing products of warm cli
mates aro any data whereby we may form
a correct opinion, the latter covering must
be the best. It is all nesense to suppose
that the Arabian has a sounder constitu
tion, a stronger frame, and can bear more
than the civilized man, owing to his squalid
bed & what is called " the hardy manner
in whiCh he was reared." The civilized
man has a better constitution, if he is a
man of temperate habits, and he has al
so a stronger frame and can endure
more fatigue.
The officers of Napoleon's army, in the
retreat from Moscow, endured the fatigue
far better than the common soldiers, and
there are abundant evidences to prove that
a generous rearing tends to produce a no
bler physical and mental constitution, than
to bo reared amid poverty and stunted with
hardship. Those who point to the advan
tages of barbaric life can use no good ar
gument of the .pooter classes. It is an
old exploded doctrine, that the children of
the poor are healthier and stronger than
the children of the rich. If this were
true, poverty surely were a blessing. We
conclude by saying that good, soft and
cleanly beds for children and adults, will
tend greatly to promote health, by pro
clueing refreshing slumber, especially to the
weary workman.—Scientafic american.
Young inan ! if you have arrived at the
right point in life for it, let every other
consideration give way to that of getting
married. Don't think of doing any thing
else. Keep poking about among the rub
bish of the world till you have stirred up
a gem worth possessing, in the shape of a
wife. Never thing of delaying the matter;
for you know delays aro dangerous. A
good wife is the most constant and faithful
companion you can possibly have by your
side, while performing the journey of life
—a dog isn't a touch to her. She is of
more service, too, than you may at first
imagine. She can ""smooth your linen and
your ears" for you—mend your trousers,
and perchance your manners—sweeten
your sour moments as well as your tea and
coffee for pu—ruftle, perhaps, your shirt
bosom, but not your temper; and, instead
of sowing the, seeds of sorrow in your path,
she will sow buttons on your shirts, and
plant happiness instead of harrow teeth in
your bosom. Yes—and if you are too
confoundedly lazy or too proud to do such
work yourself, she will chop wood, and
dig potatoes for dinner; for her love for her
husband is such that she will do anything
to please him, except receive company in
her everyday clothes.
When woman loves, she loves with a
double-distilled devotedness; and when
she hates, she hates on the high pressure
principle. Her love is as deep as the ocean
and as strong as a hempen halter, and as
immutable as the rock of ages. She won't
change it except it is in a very strong fit
of jealousy; and oven then it lingers as if
loth to depart, like evening twilights at
the windows of the west. Get married by
all means. All the excuses you can fish
up against "doing the deed" ain't worth a
spoonfull of pigeon's milk. Mark this—
if blest with health and employment, you
are not able to support a wife, depend up
on it, you are not capable of supporting
yourself. Therefore, so much the more
need of annexation; for in union, as well
as in onion, there is strength. Get mar
ried, I repeat, young man! Concentrate
your affections upon one object, and not
distribute them crumb by crumb among a
host of Swans, Marys, Loranas, Olives,
Elizas, Augustas, Betsies, Peggies, and
Dorothies--allowing each scarcely enough
to nibble at. Get married, and have some
body to cheer you as you journey through
this "lowly vale of tears"—somebody to
scour up your whole life, and whatever
linen you may possess, in some sort of Sun
day-go-to-meeting order.
Young woman! I need not tell you to
look out for you a husband, for I know
that you are fixing contrivances to catch
one; are as naturally on the watch as a
cat is for a mouse. But one word in your
ear, if you please. Don't bait your hook
with an artificial fly of beauty; if you do,
the chances are ten to one that you will
catch a gudgeon—some silly fool of a fish
that isn't worth his weight in saw-dust.—
Array the inner lady with the beautiful
garments of virtue, modesty, truth, mor
ality, and unsophisticated love, and you
will dispose of yourself quicker, and to
much better advantage, than you would if
you displayed all the gew-gaws, flippejigs,
fol-de-rols; and fiddle-de-dees, in the uni
verse. Remember that it is an awful
thing to live and die a self-manufactured
Old maid.
My hearers—get married while you are
young : and then when the frosts of age
shall fall and wither the flowers of affec
tion, the leaves of connubial love will still
be green, and perchance, a joyous offspring
will surround and grace the parent tree,
like ivy twining and adorning the time
scathed oak.
Danger of Electioneering.
The picayune rejoices in the possession
of a live Yankee as a correspondent who
having wandered as far south as Louisi
ana peddling notions, has settled down
somewhere in the Caddo country, or some
other undiscovered region of the State, and
there concluded to run for Congress. The
following extract of a letter to the editor of
of the Picayune, describing one of his
electioneering tours, is a specimen of
the luck he had in this delightful bus
" Well, I put up with a first-rate, good
natured feller that I met at a billiard ta
ble. I went in, was introduced to his wife,
a fine fat woman, who looked as though
she lived on laffin her face was so
full of fun. After a while—after we'd
had talked about my gal, and about the
garden, and about the weather, and so on
in came three or four children, laffin and
akippin as merry as crickets. There
warn't no candle lit, but I started for my
saddle bags, in which I had put a lot of
sugar candy for the children, as I went
along. " Come here," said I, " you little
rogue, come along here, and tell me what
your name is•;" the oldest then came up
to me, and says he :
" My name is Peter Smith, sir."
" And what's your name, sir?" said I
" Bob Smith, sir."
The next said his name was Bill Smith,
and the fourth said his name was Tommy
Smith. Well, I gave 'cm sugar candy,
and old Mrs. Smith was so tickled that
she ltiOgli6d all the time. "Why," says
I; " Mrs. Smith I wouldn't take a good
deal for them four boys, if I had 'em,
they're so beautiful and sprightly."
" No," says she, laffin, " I sot a good
deal of store by 'cm, but we spoil 'em,
too much."
Oh no," says I, w they're ra'al well
behaved children, and by gracious, says I,
pretending to be startled by a sudden idea
of a striking resemblance 'tween them boys
and their father, and I looked at Mr.
Smith, " I never did see mithhig equal to
it," rays I—your eyes, mouth, forehead,
a perfect pioture of you, sir;" says I, rap
pin' the oldest one on the pate. I thought
Mrs. Smith would have died a laffin at
that; her arms fell down by her side, and
her head fell back, and she shook the hull
house laffin.
"Do you think so, Col. Jones r says
she, and she looked towards Mr. Smith,
and I thought she would go off in a fit.
" Yes," says I, " I do really think sp."
" Ha; ha, ha--how-w !" says Mr. Smith,
kinder half laffin, " you are too hard on.
me now, with your jokes."
" Ain't jokin' at all," says I, " they'er
handsum children, and they do look won
derfully like you."
Just then a gal brought in a light, and
I'll be darned if the little brats didn't turn
out to be mulattoes, every one of 'em, and
their hair was as curly as the blackest
niggers. Mr. and Mrs. S. never had any
children, and they sort of petted them little
niggers as play things. I never felt so
streaked as I did when I seen how things
stood. If I hadn't kissed the little nasty
things, I could a got over it : but kissing
on 'em showed that I was in airnest,
(though I was soft soapin' on 'em all the
time;) how to get out of the scrape I
didn't know. Mrs. Smith laffed so hard
when she saw how I was confused that she
almost suffocated. A little while after
wards there was a whole family of relations
arrived from the city, and turned the mat
ter off; but next morning I could see Mr.
Smith did not like the remembrance of
what I said, and I don't believe he'll vote
for me when the election comes on. I
'spot Mrs. Smith kept the old fellow un
der that joke for some time:
Behaviour in Walking the Street.
In walking the street, a gentleman should
avoid stiffness, strutting, swinging the
hands, or dragging the limbs. The hat
should be worn upright—neither too far
back, nor drawn over the eyes, nor on ono
side of the head. Keep your hand out of
your pocket. Should you meet a gentle
man of your acquaintance, raise your hat
slightly with the left hand, which will
leave your right at liberty should ho offer
to shake bands. If the gentleman be un
gloved, you should take off your glove;
otherwise it is unnecessary.
If a gentleman meet a lady in the street,
he should give her the opportunity to recog
nize him first—and should sho fail to do
so the rule is that ho should not then no-'
tice her; but if she salutes him, he should
not fail to raise his hat from his head and
make a low bow.—The gentleman should
never first offer to shako hands—that is
the lady's privilege. In walking with a
lady, a gentleman should always walkout
aide the walk, or towards the carriage
way.—Whenever you stand to converse
with a lady, take off your hat and hold it
in your hand during the conversation.—
Whether with a lady or gentleman, a
street talk should be a short one; in either
case, when you have passed the customary
compliments, if you wish to continue the
conversation, you should suggest to walk
along as you talk. Should you, while'
walking with a friend in the street, meet
an acquaintance, never introduce them un
less requested to do so by one of the parH
Should a gentleman be walking with a
lady and her shoe become unlaced, or her
dress in manner disordered, fail not to ap
prise her of it, respectfully, and offer your
assistance. A gentleman may hook a
dress or lace a shoe with propriety, and
should be able to do so gracefully. Don't
sing, hum whistle or snioko in the street.
All these things are decidedly vulgar.
.11 Lady's Behaviour in the Sired
should bo modest and dignified. She
should never stare, giggle, walk with a
wriggle, or swing from side to aide, and
above all things, she should never run.—
In the day time, it is not customary (though
not absolutely improper,) for a lady to
take the arm of any one except an inti
mate friend of the family, a relative; or
an accepted lover. In the evening, she
may accept the arm of any gentleman:—
Both lady and gentleman walking togeth
er in this manner, should keep step, other
wise they will look awkward.
freA. young man from the country, go
ing to call on sonic music el young ladies
tho other evening, he was told that he
must ask them to sing, and, if they refu
sed; he ought to press them. According
ly he commenced by requesting Miss Mary
to favor him with a song. She gently de
clined, said she had a cold, &c.' "Well
then, Miss," said our hero, "thuppose I
thqueeze you, don't you think you might
thing?' The girl fainted immediately.
"If , Time is Money,' a man ought to be
worth something pretty handsome after
serving ten yearn in the State prison.
iqlnri A (A )
The two Sexes
When a rakish youth goes astray, friends
gather around him in order to restore him
to the path of virtue. Kindness is lavish
ed upon him to win him back again to in
nocence and peace. No one would sus
pect that he had ever sinned. But when a
poor confiding girl is betrayed, she re
ceives the brand of society, and is hence
forth driven from the ways of virtue.—
The betrayer is honored, respected, esteem
ed, but his ruined, heartbroken victim
shows there is no peace for her this side the
grave.—Society has no helping hand for
her, no smile of peace, no voice of for
giveness. There arc earthly moralities,
they are unknown in heaven. There is
deep wrong in them, and fearful arc the
[Nothing truer than the foregoing was ever
written.—The facts stated aro worthy of
the consideration of the philanthropist or
ragmen On what principle is it that an
erring female is driven from home and
friends, and all society fit for human be
ings, while an equally erring male is per
mitted to retain his station in society, and
even to boast with impunity of his vices 'I
On what principle is it that woman--ay,
woman, for she is even first and foremost
and most zealous to decry and persecute
the unfortunate of her sex—on what prin
ciple is it that sho shows no mercy to an
erring sister, while her sweetest smiles are
lavished upon an equally erring male?—
One would suppose that the possibility of
her falling would teach her to extend that
kindness to another of her sex who has
strayed from the path of virtue, which she
niay one day want herself. When the er
ring of both sexes aro treated alike—
when both are forgiven and saved, or both
spurned and ruined—we may expect to see
less of licentiousness, misery and degrada
tion in the world, and not much less of the
character we refer to until than, If there
is any good reason foi: making the distinc
tion between the sexes, when both are
equally guilty, or which is often the case,
when the male is by far the guiltiest of the
two, it has never been made known to us.]
In time of Peace prepare for War."
—A young lady of wealthy, parentage, a
tiedglingTfrom one of our fashionable board
ing schools, a type of modern elegance,
was recently united by the silken tie of
Matrimony to a gem of a beau. The 'min
ims and pappas on both sides being sur
rounded by all the concomitants of luxury,
and the many agreeable little parapharna
lies bespeaking the possession of "the
dust," determined to got a fine "establish
ment" for the young couple, and, awarding
ly, they were "fixed" in a mansion out
Walnut street, on "the West End."
A few days after this, a school com
panion of our heroine called upon her, and
was surprised to find so many servants
about the house. .
"Why Mary," said she, "what, in the
name of sense, have you so many people
about yciu for V'
"Oh !" replied Madam, "we havn't any
more than we want. There is but one
cook, one chambermaid, two house girls,
one house-keeper, and—a— child's nurse
sure there aro not too many !"
"Ha! Ha !" said her friend, "what do
you want with a child's nurse ! Oh ! that
is too funny."
"Well, we havu't any immediate use for
her, but then when we were married,
Charles said that we want one, and you
know its not always best to leave things
be until the last moment."
081 knew an old man who believed
that "what was to be, would be." Ho
lived in Missouri, and was one day going
out several miles through a region infest-.
ed, in early times, by very savage indians.
He always took his gun with him, but this
time found that some of the family had it
out. As he would not go without it, some
of his friends tantalized him by saying
there was no danger of the Indians; that
he would not die until his time had come,
anyhow. “Yes," says the old fellow,
"but suppose I was to meet an Indian,
and his time had come, it wouldn't not do
to have my gun."
Secretary Corwin.
The Dayton Gazette relates the follow
ing story of Secretary Corwin. Its humor
is characteristic :
To a friend of ours who saw him the
other day at Lebanon, he gave a most
amusing, and we doubt not, truthful ac
count of the condition of the Treasury
Department, when he entered upon the
duties of Secretary. The Clerks, he esti
mates, were sick, on an average, about
half the time—but it struck him as some
what remarkable that much as they were
sick, none of them died. The fact was
apparent at a glance, that they did very
little work for the public, and the infer
ence was irresistable, that something must
be done for them. Accordingly, the Sec
retary turned physician, and began to pre
scribe for the invalids. He issued an or
der that all Clerks who were absent from
their desks a certain number of days, say
two, on account of sickness, should sub.
mit to a proportionale deduction from their
respective salaries; and that all who were
absent longer, say one week, would be re
quired to die or resign.
The prescription worked like a charm,
and in a short time there was not . a sick
clerk in the whole Department. A heal . -
thier set of men than they are now. Mr.
Corwin declares cannot be found any
PATlTETlc.—Somepoet that evidently
thinks “our wrongs is intollerable"—
probably himself the unfortunate husband
of a Bloomer—comes out in thO Carpet
Bag in a dozen stanzas of profuud grief
most eloquently done in rhyme. The fol
lowing is his description of the gradual
encroachment of wowankind on the terri
tories of pantaloons. He says:
They took our hats—at first wt hardly missed
And then they aped our dickeys and cravats:
They stole our socks—we only laughed and kiss
ed them;
Emboldened thus they wore our very hats;
Until, by slow and sure degrees, the witches
Flave taken all—our coats, huts, hoots and breetAes!
Our poet winds up with an indignant
protest against these usurpations, and the
fierce declaration that
The pants are ours, we can not, will not spare
The girls must yield, they must not, shall not
wear 'em.
a:r A fellow was doubting whether or
not ho should volunteer to fight the Mexi
cans. One of the fiagS waved before his
eyes bearing the inscription "Victory or
Death." Somewhat troubled and discour
aged him. " Victory is a very good thing,"
said he, "but why put it victory or death?
Just put it," said he, "victory or cripple,
and I'll go that."
To MAKE WATER COLD.—The follow
ing is a simple mode of rendering water al
most as cold as ice. Let the jar, pitcher
on vessel used for water, be surrounded
with ono or more folds of course cotton, to
be constantly wet. The evaporation of
the water, on the outside, will carry Off the
heat from the inside, and reduce it to a
freezing point, in India and other tropi
cal regions where ice cannot be procuied,
this is common. The vessel should be
kept covered at the top.
FIRST Lovt.---Searee one person out Of .
twenty marries his first love and scarce one
of twenty of the remainder has cause to re
joice at having done so. What we love in
those early days is generally rah.* a
ful creature of our own than a reality. We
build statues of snow, and weep when they
melt.—Sir Walter Scott.
fA gallant New England knight of
the quill, describing a country dance, says:,
"The gorgeous strings of glass beads will
now glisten on the heavy bosoms of the .
village belles, like polished rubies resting
on the delicate surface of warm apple
[(?Courting is an institution made up
of flutes and moonlight--a period that .
brings discretion to a full stop, and marks
with a stilr the morning of our hopes.
Courting converts women into angels,
mouths into honey-comb—the heart be
comes a great hive of sweets- 7 while kisses
are the bees that keep up the supply.
Again, we ask, did you ever hold th'e head
of a blue-eyed girl?