THE PILOT pi ruin - As111:1) EVEY TUESDAY AIORNINCI BY JAMES W. M'CRORY, (North Wilt Corner of the Public Square,) prt the following rates, from which there will be no deviation : subscription, in advance if itlin six months Within twolve months No paper will be discontinued unless at the option of the Publishers, until all arrearages are paid. No subscriptions will be taken for a less period han six months. The Great ME,RICAN TEA COMPANY 51 Vesey Sired, New York; 14inee its organization, has oreated a new era in the history of Wholesaling Teas in this Country. They have introducel their selections of Teas, and are selling them at not over Two Cents (.02 Cents) per pound above Cost, never deviating from the ONE PR ICE asked. Another peculiarity of the company is that their THA TASTER not only devotes his time to the selec tion of their Teas as to quality, value, and particu lar styles for particular localities of country, but hi heilie the TEA buyer to choose out of their enormous stock such TEAS as are best adapted to .his peculiar wogs, and not only this, but points out to him the beet bargains. It is easy to see the incalculable ad. vantage a TEA BOYER has in this establishnient over ail others. If he is no judge of TEA, or the MARKET, if his time is valuable, he has all the benefits of a well organized system of doing business, of an immense capital, of the judgment of a professional Tea:Taster, end the knowledge of superior salesmen. This enables buyers-no matter if they are thousands of miles from this market—to pur chase on as good terms here as the New York mer chants Parties can, order Teas and will be served by us no well se though they came themselves, being,sure to get original packages. true weights and tares; and the Teas are warranted as represented. We Issue a Price List of the Company's Teas, which will be sent to all who order it : comprising Hyson, Young ,Ilyson, ,Imperial, Gun powder, Twankay andiSkin. , Oolong, Souchong, Orange anal Ifyson Peko, Japan Tia eve-y deseillodekeiliO; at oncrunctored This list has. each kind of Tea'divided into : FOOr Classes. namely:. CARGO, high CARGO. FINE, FINEST, that every one may understand from.,de scription and the prices annexed that. the Company are determined to undertell the whole Tea trade. We guarantee to sell all our Teas at not over TWO CENTS (.02 Cents) per. ound above coat, be.: lieving this to bp attractive to the.many who have heretofore been paying Enormous Profits. Great American Tea Company, Importers and Jobbers &opt. 15, 1868-8 m..) No. 51 Veftey N. ,Y $ 1.0 (1 RENICrARDI for -a medicine that LI. will cure Coughs, Influenza, Pickling in the Throat; , Whooping Cough,orrelieve Consumptive Cough, quick :as ; . Cq.E'S COUGH BALSAM. Over Five Thousand Bottles have beensold in its native Nowt!, add not a single instance of its failure is known." We We -hive, in odr possession, any qutintity of cer tificates, woe of them from Alf/.II7ENF PHYMCI AS. who have used it in their practice, end given it the preeminence over any other compound. It does not :Dry up a Cough, ut loosens it, so as to enable the patient to cipeit• orate freely. Two or three doses will invnriably ure Tickling in the Throat. A half .bottle has of. en completely cured the most sTonnenN cotton. and set, though it is so sure and afteediin its operation, itis perfictly harmless, being purely vegetable.. It lottery agreeable to the taste,.and may bendminis toed to children of any age. In cases of C . RO (IP we will guarantee a cure. if taken in season. No family should be without It. It is within the reach of all, the price being only 25 Cents. And if an investment and thorough trial does not"bask up" the above statement, the money will be refunded. We say this knowing its merits, and feel confident that one trial will secure for it a home in every household. Do not. waste away with Coughing, when so an investment will cure you. • It may be hod 'of any respectable Droggist in town, who will furnish you with a circular of genuine certificates . of cures it has made. C. G. CLARK St.CO., Proprietors, .:New.Haven, Ct. At Wholesale, by Johnston►, Holloway & Cowden, 28 North Sixth Street. Philadelphia, Pa. For sale by. Druggists in city, county, and every where [Sept. 29, 1863.-6 m. BARR'S, VamniothStoye, . . and Tinware Store Room, • few /loon South of .the Diamond, .61rteneastlei Pa. 4 .111111 undersigned having purchased. Mx. Need's l• entire interest in the Tinning business, * wishes to inform the public at large, that he has on hand, at his extensive Stove store, COOK, PARLOR AND NINE-PLATE Stoves. Among them are the Continental, Noble 'Jock. Commonwealth and Chartnewhich he will sell cheap for cash. The very best quality of Tin, Japaned and Sheet Iron Ware, la great variety. SPOUTING of the best material, for houses, &c., manufactured and put up at. the shortest notice. All are invited to call at this establishment; a s the nroprietor is confident in rendering satisfaction, i , oth in price and quality, of his wares. My price jutll be low! .low i!, /ow 1!! , Save money by purchasing at headquarters. _ • per, All work warranted. August 2d, 1868. .. a J. W. BARR. TICE GREAT.CAUSE OF HUMAN MISERY. Just Published in a Sealed Envelope. Price six cents A Lecture on the 'Natures Treatment and Radical Cure of Seminal Weakness; or Sper matorrimea, induced .from Self-Abuse ; Involuntary Emissions, Impotency, Nervous Debility, and Im pediments to Marriage generally ; Consumption, Epilepsy and Fits ; Mental and Physical Incapacity, &c.-11y 1 Itbtrr. ' CoLvnawat.t., 'M. D.;`Author of 0 4 The Greemßook," &c.. • The world-ronewned author, in this admirable Lecture. clearly froM his ()Wu experience that ;he awful consequericei•of Self-abuse may tie erec tion), removed without.medicine, and without dan gerous surgical operations,• bungles, instruments,' rings, or corclials,,poluting out a ode of cure .at once certain and' 6ffealtisl; by - whie m h every sufferer, no matter what his condition.may be, may ours him self cheaply, privately and rntliaally: ,This lecture will proven boon to thounands, and thousands, Sent under seal, in a plain envelope, to any ad dress, en receipt of six cents, or two postage stamps, by addressing the publishers,' . 3 CHAS; C. KLINE kCO., 127 Bowery, New York, POet Office' Box, 4586. Jan:27, 1864.-sep22ly. . $1.50 1.76 2.00 VOL-V dlr. Editor :—I herewith transmit a poetical effort of mints for publication. It was suggested by and written after the reading of J. G. SAle's favorite— " The Snake in the Glass." Though the versifica tion be awkward end the rhyme imperfect, the author modestly thinks there are some sentiments contained in it which will merit a perusal and jus tify the 'Editor in publishing it:— THE FIRST GLASS. I wish to tell you a dream, my friends, A dream'that - I had last night. Oh then terrible dream; How fearful yoU seem ; And I cannot drive you from sight . Not quite . Though I endeavor with all . my might. A man all tattered and torn, my friends, A man all tattered and torn, Before me stood- In prime manhbod. And his race was rough and unshorn Much better thou hud'st never been born ! " I once was ealthy, respected and great, iv „ And friends," he said, "in numbers had Qh days lituiLSyne Which once,were mine, , Come bask, comeback, you'll drive me mad! Egad! My case is terribly , bad ! "'Twee ruinous whisk/ that brought me low, An instrument the devil•thes: - • - Oh 1 curse the houtr - ' • • • I yieltlid te his lieWer And joined the drinking oldie ! I owe it all to my first glass!" In a hovel filthy and mean, my friends, lu a hovel filthy'lstood, 'With wretches filled * Whose , wailints.thrilled The soul as they cried for foodi What miseries distillers brood But whet% was the head of this hungry flock Oh where could the father be In.a neigh'bring Those hells of. sin, All unconscious with drink was be. The fruits.of the first glass, you , see! I saw a , tnan , oi the gallows, my friends, A tuan to'be-hung for crime Did you ever behold, Such te`siglit A man of health and just hi hill prime, Sublime ! Ushered to hell in a nick of time`? A tear trickled down his cheek, my friends, And as he wiped it away he said . " On the briuk of the grave, .. And no hand to save!,. Oh the thought , is terribly dread ! Soon dead! Then whither will my soul be led! " I wish to tender a tvarning, my friends, In drinking be cautiously spare • The goblet, friend, is hell, Touch not'that viper fell, Degiadation, calms, and DEATH lint there, `Lat its wily tegniita,tions ensnare! "Could I but, recall the past, my friends, And stand ethers I stood long ago, I would never touch the sup, Never take the first sup, But tatotal would be—that's so. But to . The past will never come back, no! !" This dream's a warning to us, my friends, A warnineto us all en nuisse. Let ue cease to drink, But begin to think, And the evils of the cup Mai. Alas ! If we'd only never taken one glass ! Very, respeatfully, The door between us and Heaven cannot be opened if that between us and our fellow men is shut. The faces of soldiers coming out of an en gagement and those,of young women going intoone are generally powdered. They say "the early bird eateheipthe worm." The early fish catches the worm too, and, in doing it,*ofteri gets caught himself. A boy loves to learn from a traveling tutor. He likes best,to be fed, like the young of the house-swallow, only on•the wing. Lavoisire made an instrument of ice into , a measurer of heat; thus fire is often measured by ice—the boy by the gray-headed man. The lead tears of a thankful heart are , more valued, and shine more brightly than worldly crowns 'wet around with petrified tears of sor7 row • lir . AY • f _ A i X ll l64l m 4i4TAI .1 all 10141 it siF o Ayaeifi Weik v„., -•••_:•• -•.--• (1-REENCASTLE, PA., TUESDAY, JU Original portrn, Forlorn, Alas! Oh God! Ah me! Beware, = 4' o°o6 15torn. MAGGIE LEE. How well I remember when she first came to us. It was seven years ago, although the time seems twice as long, so many tears have I shed since then. I was in the yard one charm ing day in 'the last of May. I remember how full of gladness the earth seemed, and my own light heart beat high with May-time hope; which the summer of my' life has failed' to re-. Elite I was standing in the shadow of a great lilac tree, playfully shaking its purple pinnies at , motlier,.Who sat before the open -, window, when I heard the gate click, and, looking round; saw a'little odd figure coming up the path. The child was probably ten years old, with a slight graceful form,though clad in tattered garinents. Her straight hair, neither long nor short, hung in uncombed mats about her face—the little thin .sallow lace, with the great eyes looking eagerly forth. She . bad no greeting—only a look - halt entreaty, half defiance—and seated herself upon the • broad step . oft the piazza, looking hungrily upon the great lilac blossoms. tossed her a spray, and , ' shall never forget the brightness that flashed' into her little . sad face. I knew from that minima that:whoever, whatever she was - , there was ..st spot in her soul, pure-and beautiful, where;the angels had writ ten—"Helinesito the Lord2'. "Whit is your name ?" I asked, seeing she Was not disposed to break' the silence. "With !" that's 'what granny called me; but my real name's Maggie—Maggie Lee' "Where 'do you live - then, little one ?"' I queried:' ' "Sometimes . with granny, and sometimes under the stars." "But where have you come from ?" "l've come from Granny Grey's. I've runn'd away—rumed away for good," she add ed with emphasis. • ' Mother then coming out upon the piazza, said gently, "You have walked front the city I presume, and are tired; come in and you shun have some breakfast." Mother had touched the right chord, as she always' . knows how to do, and she gently drew from the child, her sad history—which was a half-flown memory of a tender mother, that mother's dying good-bye, and 'then years of suffering under Granny Grey's discipline. "And you never want to go back to Granny Grey ?" queried mother. "No, no, no." The words were repeated with emphasis, and the little brown fist gestured almostfiercely. "Then," said mother, "be a good girl' and you shall stay with us until we can find a home or you." Dear - mother ; it was just like 'her. Her heart - was filled with "charity that suffereth long and is kind," thinking lovingly of every person ; and besides, said she, "who knows but this child was sent to our door to be cared for; and shall we turn her away ?" And so it was that Maggie Lee dropped into the-quiet and beauty of our home. We found no place in the neighborhood for the 'little wanderer, and so suffered - her to remain with us. 'lt would have been cruel to haie torn her away from a life she lived so loving with a peerless passion the floifers, birds, and - all things glad and free. It was Impossible to restrain her. Mother found herself too feeble to curb the fetterless spirit, and so, beyond the little read ing lesson each day, Maggie roamed' at her I • own free will. ITUDIDRAS. r might have done much for Maggie had I I chosen, but I, too, was a thoughtless child, too much absorbed in . my own happiness to care much for others. But as the summer wore away, Maggie displayed a passion so marvel ous in its intensity that ` I always became inter ested in her. Whenever I would play or sing I would hear steps under the open window, the roses would be parted, and if I looked quick enough 'I would see a Jittle eager face looking through the parted curtains, One day she grew'bolder, and coming in stood by the piano while I played I shall ever remember the brightness, the earnestness, in her little face. "Oh, sing that again," she cried, as I finished singing a touching little ballad, and the tears stood in her great eyes. "Would you:like to learn to play, Maggie ?" I asked "Oh wouldn't I, Miss Maude ? oh wouldn't I?" "And . you will be a very good girl `if I teach you ?" I queried. The promise was earnestly) tearfully-giveni so that bright after'. BY WINI BORLAND E 'l, 1864 . noon Maggie took her first lesson in music.— It was an era in her life—a turning point.— From that hour she was a ehanged . child. She seemed to feel that she, too, had. something to live fur—something to do. She studied her reading lessons uuweariedly, became particular in her personal appearance; but in music her progress was wonderful. Her little fingers seemed almost a part of the instrument, so well did they do their part, while her voice—l nev- er beard its like before, nor since—was deep, rich, passionate, yet clear as the voice of a bird. I was proud of my pupil, and mother of her studene—we began to tile "Witchie." It was October, and harry Gordon was with me—Harry, my betrothed. - Oh how I loved =how I worshipped that man, jest as he vror . shiped everything good and true. It was his love, the anticipation of his visit, that had gladdened the long days of the summer. We were walking together among the late flowers one gorgeous afternoon, Harry and I, when Maggie's voice came floating out to us through the open door. She was singing a wild hunt ing chorus, particularly adapted to her voice. Harry stood like one entranced then, with out a word, drew me to the parlor. Maggie did not notice our entrance, but as she finished the last words'of her sow= her little hand ran over the keys of the piano making such wild, sweet mnsic---nOw so passionate, now so plain tive—that the tears came to my eyes. "Bravo, bravo !" Harry exclaimed as he caught the child in his arms. "Sing something else for us, little one,"—but she dartect away. I told Harry her strange history, and smiled when be predicted for her a brilliant future. It was wonderful the friendship that sprang up bet Ween my betrothed and Maggie. He loved everything true to nature, found in her a fresh page unwritten by the hand of, art—a true, warm lieart, an` untaught will, a free, glad spirit. Ha helped her with her lessons, taught her the names of• many flowers and plants, even I gave her lessons in one geology astron omy, of which I think she never forgot a word. They took long walks together, while I was busy. Maggie reverend him above all men. I think, indeed, she would have followed him to the ends of the earth if he had so desired. I should have been jealous, had she not been so young, so plain, so without family, fortune, station. , October trailed its brightness, away. And November came—dark and stormy. Harry left me, with the promise of a visit the next year. That promise I bad to ,cheer me, to charm away all dreariness of the winter—that, and.his letters, so frequent, so fervent, so ,true. I was only sixteen,then, and in two years Harry and I were to be married. Maggie improved, very rapidly during the winter. She seemed determined to atone for her early neglect. ,Mother began to love her. I, too, felt an interest in which was growing akin sisterly feeling. She was evidently, as Harry had said, "a genius, and would be a star one of these days." , . A year—it seemed long to• me, but it passed away, and brought to me my Harry. October brought to me it gorgeous .beauty, its autumn . , splendor but, above all, it brought to me my darling—my betrothed.. He spoke to:me cheer fully, tenderly, yet sadly, for reasons he ex plained to me, and which should have satisfied any woman : he told me our marriage must be deferred for three or four years. "It will not be long, dear Maude, only a lit. tie while--three years will seem like a dream. You will only be twenty-three, only three times twelve short months." for then, forever," I answered proudly I did not really mean to seal my destiny then. I was piqued, disappointed, I had looked for ward to an early bridal, to a beautiful home. I felt for the moment that he was careless of my wishes. I thought, , too, he would com promise with me ;Ibut he only put me from him saying: "And this is the end of all our love and joy, Maude?, I have laid my plans wisely. Your judgment must say they are for the best. If your in , earnest, say good-bye, and all is over." "Good•bye then," I replied, and he turned away. I never knew until that moment how much he loved me.; but as he turned me his face of- the dead, and yet sternly immovable. I threw myself down on the soft tarf, tearless, but with a full heart of sorrow. It was late when I went to my own room— there to greive in silence. I heard voices be- low until late in the evening—my mother's and Harry's. My mother already' loveil him like a son, and I knew her partiality for me would not prevent her from Naming me for ' what I bad AI YVE RTISLNG RATES. Llvertisments will he inserted in THE ritoT at the following rates 1 column, one year of a column, one year of a column, one year 1 square, twelve mouths.. 1 square, six months - 1 square, three months - 1 square, (ten lines or less) 3 insertions Each subsequent insertion Professional cards, ono year NO IG. Early in the morning she entered my room softly, and sitting besides me passed her hand carressingly over my hair. M aude," said she; "this is a cruel thing; can not you be recon ciled ? Harry leaves in an hour. A word spoken now may save you both years of misery ? "Did he bid you speak to me about it?" I asked, eagerly hoping a compromise could be effected between my love and my pride. "No, darling. Harry did not request me to act as a peace-maker. My own heart promp ted to . nthke this effort in behalf or: your in terest, my child." In that moment my good angel whispered to me of peace and love; but the angry pas sions of my,own heart surged up and drowned the gentle accents. Pride had begun the work —would finish it. "No, mother, it is all over. I have nothing to say to him—words echo yet in my . heart—those Words that blackened my destiny. "At least, come down and say good-bye to Maggie. She goes with Harry. It seems he has told his uncle about her, as he has no children ,of his own. I like Maggie, and shall miss her; yet.we are not able to give her a finished education. And, as in her new situa- tion' ihe will enjoy every advantage of society and education the city affords, I think we should not stand in her way. So with my con sent she goes this morning. Harry's will ac company her to his uncle's, where she will re main a few days before he sails for Europe." All this surprised me. Ah! it was as he had said—"there was a brilliant future for Maggie',—the witch of other days. And then, for the first time, a dark pang of jealousy shot through my heart. What if, after all he should love her! No, I wronged him—l banished the thought. There was a faint knock at the door, and in answer to mother's "come!" Maggie came softly in. She kissed me, and thanked me very sweetly for what I had done for her, bade me good-bye, and then she and mother went out. An hour after Wards I heard the carriage roll away. That was five years ago. We have heard often from Maggie—of her progress in her studies, her charming home. Twice' she visit= ed us, but, both times, I was away from home and did not see her. To•day we received a letter from Harry Gordon saying that he will be at our house May the twentieth—to-morrow —with,his bride, Maggie Lee It, was my own, pride sealed my fate. Yet as I look back upon the little tattered wanderer that came to our door seven years ago, it is hard to think that she may wear upon her heart the only love for which I ever cared.— I have changed in those seven years. My girlish face is saddened, my girlish grace is gone, but I know to-morrow's evening star will look upon me a yet older, sadder woman than I now am. It , will be hard. to welcome my once,:betrothed to my home, and know that I am. nothing to, him pow. It will be hard to greet as a sister, his girl-wife—wishing them both . , all joy--yet, God helping me, I will do "It may be from the morrow's gloom and fear, Shall rise the promise of immortal cheer.!" it is strange that men should hate each oth er for the love of God. Most men do just as little for posterity as posterity has done for them. It is often with' the human race ai . with bees; 'the male bee.makes no honey. Editors ought to be able to live cheap; they get bored for nothipg. The poetry that's all gas is a pour kind of gas.metre . . . Loving friends, like a pair of lips, are often severed by a breath. When they are so many human wolves about, a man is a great fool to be sheepish. Talk is a greater' bore than a book. It is easier` to shut a fool's book than a Molts month . - It, is said Abat.the:language an Arabian child speaks before it cuts its teeth is gum•Arabio. It way be very well to go your own'way, but you had better first see that you have a way to go. Growing freedom and powerful manysided ness arui the child against all-the two and thirty,winds and : storms of life. Every. railroad train has a smoke-car. I , might save the feeding of the ladies and gentle uien if each cue had a swearing-ear. tittle-or-Notbings. $70.00 3rt.00 20.00 8.00 5.00 4.00 1.00 25 5.00-