The pilot. (Greencastle, Pa.) 1860-1866, June 21, 1864, Image 1

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(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
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
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 ; .
Over Five Thousand Bottles have beensold in its
native Nowt!, add not a single instance of its failure
is known."
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.,
.: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.
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,
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.
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.
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
127 Bowery, New York, POet Office' Box, 4586.
Jan:27, 1864.-sep22ly.
. $1.50
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:—
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!
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
lir .
AY •
f _
A i X ll l64l
m 4i4TAI
.1 all
10141 it siF o
Ayaeifi Weik v„.,
-•••_:•• -•.--•
Original portrn,
Oh God!
Ah me!
o°o6 15torn.
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-.
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 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.
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
"And . you will be a very good girl `if I
teach you ?" I queried. The promise was
earnestly) tearfully-giveni so that bright after'.
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
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
"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
"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
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
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
"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
. . .
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
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.