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.