VOLUME XVII. TERM OF PUBLICATION: Tun "HUNTINGDON dolman'," is published at the following rates, viz: If paid in advance, per annum, $1,50 If paid during the year, 1,25 If paid after the expiration of the year,• 2,50 To Clubs of five or more, in advance, • • 1,25 Tim above Terms will be adlieredlo in all cases. No subscription will be taken fora less period than six months, and no paper will be discontinued un til all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher. Vottical. WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. Woodman, spare that tree, Touch not a single bough, In youth it shelter'd mc, And I'll protect it now ; 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, And wouldst thou hack it down '1 Woodman, forbear thy stroke ! Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh spare that aged oak Now towering to the skies ! When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy, Here, too, my sisters play'd. My mother kissed me here ; My tither press'd my hand Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand, My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend ! Here shall the wild birds sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree ! the storms still brave ! And woodman, leave the spot; While I' en a hand to save, Thy axe shall harm it not. 'mutt!? Circle: Economy in a Family There is nothing which goes so far to wards placing young people beyond the reach of poverty, as economy in the' man agement of their domestic affairs. `•lt mat ters not whether a man furnish little or much for his family, if there is a continual leakage hi his kitchen or in his parlor. It runs away lie knows not how, and that de mon, Waste, cries 'snore!' like the horse leech's daughter, until ho that provided has no more to give. It is the husband's duty to bring into the house, and it is the duty of the wife to see that none goes wrongfully out of it—not the least article, however unimportant in itself, for it estab lishes a precedent—nor under any pre tence, for it opens the door for ruin to stalk in, and he seldom leaves an opportu nity unimproved. A man gets a wife to look after his affairs, and assist him in his journey through life—to educate and pre pare his children for a proper station in life, and not to dissipate his property.— The husband's interest should be the wife's care, and her greatest ambition carry her no further than his welfare and happiness, together with that of her children. This should be her sole aim, and the theatre of exploits in the bosons of her family, where she may do as much towards making a for tune as ho can in the counting-room or the work-shop. It is not the money earned that makes a man wealthy; it is what he saves from his earnings. A good and pru dent husband makes a deposit of the fruits of his labor with his best friend, and if that friend be not true to hini, what has ho to hope? If he dare not place confidence in the companion of his bosom, where is he to place it? A wife acts not for herself on ly, but she is bound to act for their good, and not for her own gratification. Her husband's good is the end to which she should aim; his approbation is her reward. Self-gratification in dress, or indulgence in appetite, or snore company than his purse can well entertain, are equally per nicious. The first adds vanity to extrava gance; the second fastens doctor's bill to a long butcher's account; and the latter brings intemperance, the worst of evils, in its train. Politeness at Howe. Always speak with the utmost polite ness and deference to your parents and friends. Some children are polite every where else except at home; but there they are coarse and rude enough. Shameful! Nothing sits as gracefully upon children, and nothing makes them so lovely as ha bitual respect and dutiful deportment to wards their parents and superiors. It makes the plainest face beautiful, and gives to every common action a nameless but peculiar charm. 'My son, hear the instructions of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother, for they shall be au ornament of grace unto thy head, and . beautiful pearls Allitino bolt The Smooth Shilling. 'That piece won't go, sir!' observed the man behind the counter, handing me back again a shilling so worn that nothing could be seen on either side of it but a dull, silver lustre, and no perceptible figure. I took it and replaced it in my purse. But as I rode home my meditations were on the shilling. It won't go, lie said; but why not? It is no doubt a genuine coin. For ten, twenty, and even fifty years, it has been in constant circulation. The hands of some thousands of persons have held it. It has sparkled as a pretty toy in the tiny fingers of some sweet child; it has been clutched by the ferruginous hand of a mi ser. It has been laid upon the glazed eye-ball of a youth in his shroud; clinked in the till of the liquor-dealer; been tossed to the street musician as an inducement to him to cut short the agony of his "organ.— It has traveled through the States—pass ing current from seaboard, to the remo test interior, and never at a discount. It has been exchanged in its time for commo dities enough to make any beggar a Cree sus. To multitudes it has brought, over and over again in some shape, the worth of a shilling. Others have possessed and lost it, but obtained no equivalent. It was their fault, however, and not the shil ling's. But now tho tide is turned. The faithful piece of money would seem to be delinquent. 'lt won't go' But why not? I again ask. Because it is smooth. Its surface tells no tale that we can credit.— It beers not the impress of .the mint, or the government insignia. No head, pil lars or date does it show. A coin must have impressions, or it is only a plaything a medal, or a silver button-mould. Smooth pieces of silver 'won't go' any better than if they were bits of my grand-mother's spoons, or those fatuous old knee buckles that figured on my grandfather's small clothes. The genuine current coin must have the genuine stamp. here, thought I, is a lesson for us. Our minds, hearts, and lives, must bear the right impressions, or we cannot pass current in good society. Of little worth is he in life, of whom the , smooth shilling' is a type. The man on whom you can see no head, or date, or stars, or pillar, or eagle—nothing by which it could be guessed that he was 'E pluri bus ununi,' his expression only the dull resemblance of tarnished silver, his eyes of pewter, in which there is 'no specula tion,' his soul unmarked with any trace or bound of moral obligation, of generous sym pathy, of Christain fervor, every body is ready to say of him, 'lt won't go sir.' It ought not to go. It has been loosely drifting about long enough. It is time it was re turned to the mint as bullion, to be reis sued, to receive the stamp of man. Ah! there is the fault with him. It was the original sin of his education, that no deep, strong, correct impression was made upon his nature. He had no pious mother to furrow his soul with her tears; no godly father to drive landmarks deep into the substance of his spiritual existence. The pulpit did not rise along the margin of his affections, the breastwork of faith and hope, and fear of God. The sanctions of the Bible wore either unknown or unheeded, so that no 'image and superscription' of di vine truth was ever inscribed upon him when in the mint of his years—his plastic infancy. The world, the flesh and Satan, have made him rough enough, but no trace of the divine government is on him—no stamp of the powers above. He is smooth for all such impressions, and, therefore, he cannot pass current. Reader, are you a parent, a teacher, a pastor, a Christian, a lover of your race? Put your stamp up on the young. Prepare the die with great est care. Improve your opportunity.— Make your mark. Let it be deep and in delible. Lot each immortal coin, each living soul, be charged with the image— not of an earthly queen or emperor, but with the features of our Heavenly King, with the radiant lines of the Redeemer's face, and then shall it be legal tender in the Church below, and at the gates of the New J erusalem. When one secs a family of children going to school in clean and well mended clothing, it tells a great deal in favor of their mother, ono might vouch that those children learn some valuable lessons at home, whatever they may be taught at school. [r' lie that would pass the latter part of life with honor and decency, must, when he is young, consider that ho shall one day be old, and lay up knowledge for his support, when his powers of acting shall forsake him, and remember when he is old that he has once boon young, and forbear to animadvert with unnecessary vigor on faults which experience only can correct. A WISE THOUGHT.—As life is a day's journey, and we are all travellers, and bound to "put up" somewhere, it would be well for us to look out beforehand that comfortable lodgings are secured when our trip shall be cut short by the night of HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 1852. fflititicellantoug. Taking a Newspaper. A PRACTICAL STORY, PLEASANTLY TOLD. 'Pleasant day this, neighbor Gaskill,' said one farmer to another, coining into the barn of the latter, who was engaged in sep arating the chaff from the wheat crop, by the means of a fan. 'Very fine (lay, friend Alton—any news?' returned the individual addressed. 'Nothing of importance ; I have called over to see if you wouldn't join Carpenter and myself in taking the paper this year. The price is only two dollars.' 'Nothing cheap that you don't want,' re turned Gaskill, in a positive tone; don't believe in newspapers; I never heard of one doing any good: and nothing can be got out of them until it's read through,— They would not be good for a cent if a pa-. per came every week; and, besides, dollars ain't picked up in every corn-hill.' 'But think, neighbor Gaskill, how much information your gals would get if they had a fresh newspaper every week, filled with all the latest intelligence. Tho time they would spend in reading, would be nothing to what they would gain.' 'And what would they gain, I wonder? get their heads filled with nonsensical sto ries. Look at Sally Black; is'nt she a fine specimen of your newspaper reading gals? Not worth to her father three puni kin seeds. I remember well enough when she was one of the most promising bodies about here. But her father was fool enough to take a newspaper. Any one could see a change in Sally! She began to spruce up and look smart. First came a' bow on her Sunday bonnet, and then gloves to go to meeting. After that, she must be sent to school again, and that at the very time when she began to be worth something about home. And now she has got a forty piano, and a fellow comes every week to teach her music.' 'Then you won't join us neighbor Mr. Alton said, avoiding a useless reply to Gas kill. 'Oh no ! that I will not. Money thrown away on newspapers is worse than wasted. I never heard of their doing any good.— The time spent in reading a newspaper ev ery week would be enough to raise a hun dred bushels of potatoes. Your newspa per, in my opinion, is a dear bargain at any price.' Mr. Alton changed the subject, and soon left neighbor Gaskill to his fancies. About three months afterwards, howev er, they again met, as they had frequently done during the intermediate time. 'Have you sold your wheat yet ?' asked Mr. Alton. 'Yes, I sold it day before yesterday.' 'How much did you get for it ?' 'Eighty-five cents.' '.No - inOre Why I thought every one knew that the price had aeanced to nine ty-five cents. To whom did you sell? , 'To Wakeful, the store-keeper in He met me day before yesterday, and ask ed me if I had sold my crop yet. I said I had not. Ho then offered to take it at eighty-five cents, the market price; and I said he might as well have it, as there was no chance of its rising. Yesterday he sent over his wagon and took it away.' 'This was hardly fair in Wakeful. He came to ice also, and offered to buy my crop at eighty-five. But I had just re ' ceived my newspaper, in which I saw that in consequence of accounts from Europe of a short crop, grain had gone up. 1 asked him ninety-five, which, after some haggling, he consented to give.' 'Did he pay you ninety-five ?, exclaimed Gaskill, in surprise and chagrin. 'He certainly did.' quo bad ! too bad ! No better than down-right cheating, to take such a shame ful advantage of a man's ignorance.' 'Certainly, Wakeful can not be justified in his conduct,' replied Mr. Alton. 'lt is nut right for one man to take advantage of another man's ignorance, and got his goods for less than they aro worth. But does not any man deserve to suffer who remains wilfully ignorant, in a world where ho knows there aro always enough ready to avail themselves of his ignorance t llad you been willing to expend two dollars for the use of a newspaper a whole year, you would have saved in the single item of your wheat crop alone, fourteen dollars ! just thing of that. Mr. Wakeful takes the newspapers, and, by watching them closely is prepared to make good bargains with Soule half dozen others around here, who have net wit enough to provide themselves with the only sure avenue of information on all subjects—the newspapers.' 'Have you sold your potatoes?' asked Gaskill, with seine concern in his voice. '0 no, not yet. Wakeful has been lea king me oilers for the last ten days. But front the prices they are bringing in Phila delphia, 1 ant well satisfied they are about thirty cents there.' 'About thirty ! Why, I sold to Wakeful for about twenty-six cents.'.. A ornat dunan vnu wore. if 1 must. speak so plainly; he offered me twenty-nine cents for four hundred bushels. But I declined —aud was I right. I hey are worth thirty to-day, and at that price I am going to sell.' 'lsn't it too bad ?' ejaculated the morti fied farmer, walking backwards and for wards, impatiently. 'There are $25 liter ally sunk in the sea. That Wakeful has cheated me most outrageously.' 'And all because you were too close to take a newspaper. I should call that sa ving at the spigot, and letting out at the bung-hole, neighbor Gaskill.' should think it was indeed. This ve ry day I'll send off money for a newspaper; and if any one gets ahead of me again he'll have to be wide awake, I can tell him.' 'Have you hear of Sally Black ?' asked Mr. Alton, after rbrief silence. 'No. What of herd' 'She leaves home to-morrow, and goes to 'lndeed ! What for V 'Her father takes the newspaper, you know.' 'Yes.' 'And has given her a good education.' 'So they say; but I could never see that it has done any good for her, except to make her good for nothing.' 'Not quite so bad as that, friend Gas kill. But to proceed; two weeks ago, Mr. Black saw an advertisement in the paper, for a young lady to teach music and some other branches in the seminary at R--. He showed it to Sally, and she asked him to ride over and see about it. He did so, and then returned for Sally, and went back again. The trustees of the seminary liked her very much, and engaged her at the sal ary of $4OO a year. To-morrow she goes to take charge of her respective classes.' 'You cannot, surely be in earnest 1' far mer Gaskill said, with a look of profound astonishment. 'lt's every word true,' replied Mr. Al ton. 'And now you will hardly say that a 'newspaper is dear at any price,' or that the reading of them has spoiled Sally Gaskill looked upon the ground for ma ny minutes. Then raising his head, he half ejaculated with a sigh: , If I haven't been a great fool, I came plaguey near it But I will be a fool no longer. I'll subscribe for a newspaper to morrow—see if I don't P The Man with one Garment. There was once ,a man, wise in his own eyes, and deemed by his neighbors 'a little strange,' who, upon rising from his bed one morning, paused and considered, be fore ho dressed. He was a waking drea mer, and thus he dreamed: 'Pantaloons arc essential. No other garment lei so ab solutely essential as pantaloons. In fact no other garment is essential but panta loons ; therefore I go in fur pantaloons and nothing but pantaloons. Any man who goes' in for any thing else is a hypocrite, and the truth is not in him.' IVell, this man went out into the world with nothing but pantaloons on. He met men in coat, hat and boots, and clad as men usually are. 'My friends,' said the dreamer, 'you are wrong. You must take off your coat, pull off your boots, and lay aside your hat, fur these are all non-essen tials.' 'But we have just as good panta loons as yourself,' answered the man. know, but they are partly covered with your coat tails, and aro not the prominent object of your dress. Look at me !I am nothing but pantaloons.' Thus the man went up and down the country, and though he found litany who admitted that pantaloons wore essential, he could find but few who did not consider other articles of dress iu the same cate gory. He was wroth at this, and brawled, and in process of time gathered to him seine wise and more simple, who lifted up their voices and cried 'pantaloons forever.' The world jogged on as usual, but as is usual with a curious world, it would like to know what the party in pantaloons and nothing else, propose to do. Let us have the programme. A NEw ARMOR.—Two Mexicans were recently arrested at Brownsville, Texas, suspected of being highway robbers and murderers. Among their effects were found two curiously constructed coats of armor, made not of steel, but of cowhide and wool, and supposed to bo used by them while engaged in marauding purposes.— The Rio Bravo thus describes these ar ticles : ...These armors are made in the shape of corsets, composed of an outer and inner coat of cowhide, filled with wool, about an inch and a quarter in thickness, and neatly and elaborately stitched through with cowhide thongs. They aro in two parts, and do closely back and front with leather strings. When worn, they form a complete panoply for the body, and are impervious to a pistol shot, if not to a rifle." Ho who oppressed honesty never had any himself, _,A\O ‘' 0 / 01 , nati7 l _e4oo Country Schools. "First class in philosophy, step out— close your books. John Jones how many kingdoms arc their in nature ?" "Four—the animal, vegetable, mineral and kingdom come." "Good—go up head." "Hobbs, what is meant by the animal kingdom ?" "Lions, tigers, elephants, rhinoceroses, hippopotamuses, alligators, monkeys, jack asses, hack-drivers and school-masters." "Very well—but you'll take a lickin for your last remark." "Giles, what's the mineral kingdom l" "The hull of Californy." "Walk straight up head." "Johnson, what is the vegetable king dom ?" "Garden sarce, potatoes, carrots, ing yons and all kind of greens that's for cook ing." - "And what are pines, and hemlocks, and elnis•—aint they vegetables I" "No, sir'ee ! you can't cook cm--them's saw logs and fraim timber." "Boys, give me a piece of apple, and you can have an hour's intermission—ex cept Hobbs." Energy—what it Dues. We love your upright energetic men— Pull them this way and that way and they only band, but never break. Trip them down and in a trice they are on their feet. Bury them in the mud, and in an hoar they will be out and bright. They eve not ever yawning away existenee, nor wells— ing about the world as if they had come into it with only half their soul; you can not keep them down—you can not des troy them. But for these the world would soon degenerate. They are the salt of the earth. Who but they start any noble project? they build our cities our churches, and rear our manufactories. They whiten the ocean with sails, and they blacken the heavens with the smoke of their steam* vessels and furnace fires. They draw their treasures from the mine. They plough the earth. Blessings on them! Look to them, young men and take courage : imitate their example : catch the spirit of their ener gy. IVithout life, what are you good for, if it is passed idly away? We should never measure thus life's employment. The - Man and the Vine. A FABLE In one of the early years of the crea tion of the world, man began to plant a vine, and Satan saw it, and drew near. ' "What plantest thou, son of the earth?" said the prince of demons. "A vine," replied the man. "What are the properties of this tree?" "Oh, its fruit is pleasant to look at, and delicious to the taste; from it is producyl a liquid which fills the heart with joy." • "Well, since wino makes glad the heart of man, I will help thee plant this tree." So saying, the demon brought a lamb and slew it, then a lion, then an ape, and last of tell, a pig, killed each in succession, and moistening the roots of the vine with the blood, Thence it has happened over since, that when a man drinks a small portion of wine, ho becomes gentle and caressing as a lamb; after a little more, strong end 'bold as a lion, when he takes still more, lie resembles an ape in his mischievious actions; but when he has swallowed the liquid to excess, he is like a pig wallowing iu the mire. A Fact full of Meaning, In a late religious excitement in Boston, a person wet a Christian neighbor, who took him by the hand and besought him to go to one of these meetings and become a Christian. "I have done so," said he. "and have got religion. I am at last a Christian." "You aro a Christian, then, all ut once," said the other; "you profess to act strictly on Christian principles. lam glad of it. I congratulate you. Suppose we now have a settlement of our little accounts between us. Pay me what thou owest." said the new-born child of grace, turning on his heel, "religion is religion, and business is business." POWEA OF DRAFT. —The 11ev. Ephrim Judson, a clergyman settled in Norwich (Conn.,) in 1871, was an exceedingly quaint and original preacher. Remarking in one of his sermons upon the excuses made by the guests invited to the wedding feast, he observed that ono who had bought five yoke of oxen simply entreated to be excu sed, whilst the one who married a wife ab solutely declared be could not come.— “llence learn,” sail the preacher that one woman ran pull harder than five yoke of oxen." On the contrary, there are some that have no draft. fl Strange that the mouths of rivers are larger than their heads. NUMBER 25, Eravietteo. lt?''How musk pain those evils cost us that never happen. FOND OF SOWETY.—Persons who buy second-hand bedsteads. IVholesome sentiment is rain, which makes the fields of daily life fresh and odor•' ous. FREE MASON.-A young bricklayer, just out of his apprenticeship. Land warrants of 160 acres are not , plesty in. New York, and are Belling at $123 a 128. Usc not evasions•when called upon to do a good thing, nor excuses when you , are- reproached for doing a bad one. tr' Intellect is not the moral power; conscience is. Honor,•not talent, makes the gentleman. re Pride destroys all symmetry and grace, and affectation is a more terrible. enemy to• fine faces than the small por.- Self-love is at once the most deli cate and the most tenacious of our senti ments; a mere nothing on earth will kill' Real grief is never clamorous. It shuns every eye, and breathes in solitude' and silence the sigh that rises from the heart. G'3'' The young lady who saw a baby without kissing it, has acknowledged that her friend's bonnet is handsomer than her own.• You cannot fathom your mind:— There is a well of thought there that has no bottom. The more you draw from it the• more clear and plentiful it will be. People seek for• what they call wit,. on all subjects and at ail plat:test not con sidering that nature loves. trwth so well that it hardly ever adasita of flourishing. Conceit kt, to nature what paint is to beau ty; it is not envy needless, Ir.ut impairs-who* it would improve. [g"" A curious mistake lately occurred. in a puffing periodical. 3t was fire number, yet, in its "Notices. to Correspon dents," appeared the following:—"The letter of 6.41 constant Reader•' shall appear in our next," Knowledge may slumber in the , memory, but it never dies; it is like the dormouse iu the ivied tower, that sleeps• while winter lasts, but awakes with the warm breath ei spring. The best thing to resist vice with, is love. The man who worships a virtuous• woman; is as impregnable to the allure. , wants of a wanton, as Gibraltar is to apple• dumplings. llEnE!—There is a young lady up town who says that if a cart-wheel has nine fel lows, it's a pity that a woman like her can't have one. Our devil says "she can have a fellow by calling at our office." ff. - A negro slave belonging to Cot. Ilroward, of Florida, lately ran away, and was pursued by Braward and his two sons. The negro turned, slaughtered bin two sons, and was shot dead by the Colonel. A pleasant little incident this. t ry A good toast is this.—Women-- The morning star of infancy, the day star of manhood, the evening star of age.— Bless such stars; may we bask in their in fluence until we are sky high. [E The best "forget me not" a man can leave his wife is a baby. It beats wed ding rings all-hollow. People about leav ing for California will please notice. trr A newspaper is a law book for the indolent, a sermon for the thoughtless, a library for the poor. It may stimulate the most indifferent, it may instruct the most profound. re- Mrs. Grim must have been born ugly. When she buried her first husband she had him planted fourteen feet below the sod; not to keep him from the resur rectionist, but just to give the devil the more trouble to "get his dues." [ll,-' "I am very thankful that my mouth has been opened to preach without learn ing," said an illiterate preacher in speak ing against educating ministers to preach the gospel. A gentleman present replied, "Sir, a similar event took place in Balsam's time." (J' A gentleman presented a lace collar to the object of his adoration, and in a joc uldr way, said : "Do not let any ono else rumple it." "No, dear," said the lady, "I will take it off." The young man who "once saw the day" when he wouldn't associate with me chanics, is now acting as book keeper to a manure wagon. Queer reverse of for tune, that. UP- To all men, and at all times, tho best friend is virtue; and the best compan ions are high endeavors and honorable hen- timeuts.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers