tt ATI VE'V SXOHLIa3E!3FL f l , roi>rlttor.] NEW SERIES, . HflttJj %rarafi ffinutrai A weekly Democratic and Sciences A •. Pub- BY HARVEY SICKLER. Terms—l copy 1 year, (in advance) 81.50. If hot pain within six month?, $2.00 will be charged ADVERTisirra. 10 lints orl: . j i t . i less, make, three • Jour tiro ;three J six j one one square weeks'weeks'mo'th mo'th'mu'th' >jear 1 Square I,OU< 1,25 2,254 2,8(1 3,0(q 5,00 2 do. 2,00' 2.50J 3.25; 3.50 4,50 6,00 3 do. 3,00 3,751 4,73, 5.50 7,00 9,00 t Column. 4,00 4,50t 6,50' R.(>o 10,00'' 15,00 do. 6,00> 7.00; 10.00 ILOOj 17,00 25,00 do. 8,00: 9,50 14.00 18,00 25,00135,00 1 do. 10,00; 12,00.17,00 22,00 28,00 40,00 Business Cards of one square, with paper, 85. JOB WOH.K ef all kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit the times. fSusiiuss |lotirfS. BACON STAND.—Nicholson, Pa. C. L JACKSON, Proprietor. [vln49tf] GEO. S. TUTTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Tunkhannock, Pa. Office in Stark's Brick Block, Tioga street. TTTM. M.PIATT, ATTORNEY AT LAW. Of- XX fice iu Stark's Brick Block, Tioga St., Tuuk hannaek, Pa. RR.&S, W, LITTLE ATTORNEY'S AT, LAW, Office on Tioga street, Tunkhannock Pa. JV. SMITH, M. D, PHYSICIAN & SURGEON, • Office on Bridge Street, next door to the Demo crat Office, Tunkhannock, Pa. HS. COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON • Newton Centre, Luzerne County Pa. LMi7 t7c BECKER .t Co., PHYSICIANS & SURGEONS, Would respectfully announce to the citizen? of Wy ming that they have located at Tnnkhannoek wher hey will promptly attend to all calls in the line of neir profession. May be found at his Drug Staro wbew not professionally absent. JM. CAREY, M. I).— (Graduate of the 3 • M. Institute, Cincinnati) would respectfully announce to the citizens of Wyoming and Luzerne Counties, tthat he continues his regular practice in the various departments of his profession. May oe found •t ihiis.Office or residence, when not professionally ab wtti "JsfT Particular attention given to the treatment Chronic Disens. entremorciand, Wyoming Co. Pa.—v2n2 WALL'S HOTEL, LATE AMERICAN HOUSE, TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA THIS establishment has recently been refitted and furnished in the latest stylo Every attention •rill be given to th comfort aud convenience of th'*e who patronize the House. T. B. WALL, Owner anl P*oprietor. Tunkhannock, September 11, 1861. MAYNARD'S HOTEL, TUNKHANNOCK, WYO MIN G COUNT 1 , PEN XA . JOHN MAYN AR D , Proprietor. HAVING taken the Hotel, in the Borough of Tunkhannock. recently occupied by Riley Warner, tho proprietor respectfully solicits a share of public patronage. The House has been thoroughly repaired, and the comforts and accomodations of a first class Hotel, will be found by all who may favor t with their custom. September 11, 1861. NORTH BRANCH HOTEL, MESHOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA Wm. 11. CORTRIGIIT, Prop'r Having resumed the proprietorship of the above Hotel, the undersigned will spare no effort to fender the house an agreeable place of sojourn for all who may favor it with their custom. Win. II CCRTRIIIIIT. June, 3rd, 1863 ffraits TOWANBA, PA. D- B. BARTLET, (Late of the Bbraisard llocse, Elxira, N. Y.J PROPRIETOR, The MEANS HOTEL, L one of ttie LARGEST ! and BEST ARRANGED Houses in the country—lt is fitted up iu the most modern and improved style, j aud no pains are spared to make it a pleasant and agreeable stopping-place for ail, v 3. n'2l. ty ' M. GILMAN, MGILMAN, has permanently located in Tunk • banacck Borough, and respectfully tenders his professional services to the citizens of this place and uwounding country. _ ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIS FACTION. Office over Tutton's Law Office, near th e Pus Dee. 11, 1861. TO NERVOUS SUFFERERS OF BOTH SEXES. • 5?. v^ re , n l d , owtlbmah having been vJtS J° ln J * I f,,r da y*. undergoing all he usual routine and irregular expensive modes of ruatment without success, considers It his sacred d- Jto communicate to his afflicted fellow creatures emeans ofcura. Hence, on the receipt of an ad, •****, he will tend (free) a copy of K wed. Direct to Br J.u* * S£SL ca Brooklyn; New frrh v2b?Uyi THE MARRIAGE CRUCIBLE. A THRILLING TALC OK HIGH AND LOW LIFE. (Those of our readers who have ever seen acted, or have read, ihat beautiful modern drama of Sir Edward Bulwer Ly tton, '• The' Lady of Lyons," need look no farther than the following sketch lor its fonndation ] I was born in one of those little hamlets situated in the neighborhood of Montclmart in the south of France. My father had made many a fruitless effort to raise himself above indigence. His last resource in his old age arose from the exercise of a talent which he had acquired in his youth—that of bellows making. This, too, was the humble profes sion which I was destined to follow. Reing endowed by nature with quick and lively faculties, both of mind and body, I soon grew skillful in my trade, and having an am bitious spirit, set off for Lyons to prosecute my calling there. I became a great favorite with the chamber-maids, who were iny chief employers, and whom my good looks, and youth, interested in my favor. One evening, however, as I was returning home after my day's round, I was accosted (,y four well dressed young men, who threw out a few pleasantries on uiy profession-- which I auswtrsd in a style of good-humored raillery that seemed to surprise and to please them. I saw thetn look significantly at one another, and heard one -f them say, " This is our mau." The words alarmed me, but my fears were speedily dispelled. 44 Perouon, ! > said one, 4 ' you shall sup with us. We have a scheme which may do you good. If you do not agree to it we shall ii"t harm you, but only ask you to keep our secret. Do not be afraid, but come with us." Seeing all of them to be gentlemen in ap pearance, I did not hesitate to accept of the offer. They cenducted me through a nutn her of cross streets, and at last entered a handsome house, in an apartment of which we found six other young men, who appear ed to have been waiting impatiently for my conductors. A few explanatory words pass ed respecting me, aud soon afterwards we sat down to supper. Being young and thoughtless and light hearted, I gava way to the enjoyment of the hour, and vented a suc cession of pleasantries which seemed to high ly please my chance companions. But they all grew eilent and thoughtful ere long, and finally one of them addressed me thus : " The ten persons whom you see before you, are all engravers, and citizens of Lyons. We are all in good circumstances, and make a very handsome living by our occupation. We are all attached to one another, and formed a happy society, till love stepped in to disturb us. In the street of St. Dominic there lives a picture merchant, a man of re spectable station, but otherwise an ordinary personage. lie has, however, a daughter— a creature possessed of every accomplish ment. and endowed ui;h every grace; but all those amiable qualit.es are shaded by one defect—pride, insupportable pride. As an example of the way in which this feeling has led her to tieat others, 1 will own that I myself paid my addresses to her and was ap proved of by her fa*her as one iy b>rth and circumstances much their superior. But what was the answer which the insolent girl herself gave to my suit?—'Do you think, sir, that a voung woman like me was bo n f< r nothing better than to be the wife of an engraver ?" •' Her great charms and her pride have been felt by us all," continued the speaker ; " and we hold that she ha? east a slur both on us and our profession. We have, there fore, resolved to show this disdainful girl, that 6he has not indeed been born to the honor of being the wife of an engraver.— Now will you, [addressing me] venture to Income the husband of a charming woman, who, to attain perfection, needs to have her pride mortified and her vanity punished ?" " Yes," answered I, spurred on by the ex citement of the moment ; '• I comprehend what you would have me do, and I will ful fil it in such a manner that you shall have no reason to blush for your pupil.''' The three months followed this very strange scene, were wholly occupied with preparations for the part I was to perform Preserving the strictest possible secrecy, ray confederates did their best to transform me from a plain bellows mender into a fine gen tlemen, Bathing, hair-dressers, &c., bro't tny person to a fitting degree of refinement, while every day one or other of the engrav er# devoted himself to the task of teaching mo music, drawing, and other accomplish ments; and nature had furnished me with a disposition to study, and a memory so re tentive, that my friends were astunished at the progress of their disciple. Thoughtless of all else, I felt the deepest delight in ac quiring thee new rudiments of education.— But the lime came when 1 was to be made sensible, fur the first time, of the true na ture of the task I had entered upon. The confederates, at length, thought me perfect, and in the character of the rich Marouis of Kouperon, proprietor of large estates in Dau phiny, I was installed in tho first hotel of Lyons It was under this title that I pre sented mvaelf to the picture dealer in St. Dominie atreet. I made a few purchases from him, and seemed anxious to purchase wore. After a little intercourse of thia kind he 08& mowing sosl n# word that he bad - . * "TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RlGHT.*•—Thomas Jefferson. TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 1864. just receiven a superb collection ofengfav 'ngs from Rome, and begged me to call and see them. 1 did so, and was received, not by him, but by Aurora. This was the first sight I had got of the lovely girl, and, for the first time in my life, my young and pal pitating heart felt the power of beauty. A new world unfolded itself before my eyes.— I soon forgot my borrowed part; one senti ment absorbed my soul—one idea enchained tny faculties. The fair Aurora perceived her triumph, and seemed to listen with compla cency to the incohetenl expressions of pas sion which escaped my lips. That interview fixed my destiny forever ! The intoxication of enjoying her presence hurled me on, blind to everything else. For severel months I saw her every day, and enjoyed a state of happiness only damp ened by the self accusing torments of solita rr hours, and by the necessity I was under of regularly meeting my employer?, who fyr nished me with money, jewels, and every thing I could require. At length, Aurora's father gave a little fete, in the Country, of which, evidently, I was the hero. A moment occurred, in which, thought* le*s of all but my love, I threw myself a suit or at her feet. She heard me with modest dignity, while a tear of joy, which dimmed for a moment her fine eyes, convinced me that pride was not the only emotion which agitated her heart,—yes, I discovered that I was beloved ! I was an imposter ; but heaven is my wit ness, 1 deceived her not without remorse lu her presence I remembered nothing but herself; but iu the stillness of solitude, so phistry and passion disappeared, leaving a dreadful perspective before me ! When I as sociated the idea of Aurora with the misera b!e fate that was soon t. fall upon hei ; when I figured to myself her delicate hands em ployed in preparing the Coarsest nourishment I shrunk back with horror or started up with a cold p. rspiration. But self-love would come to my aid, tho't, if she truly love me— she might yet be happy. I would devote my life, I swore, to the task of strewing dowers along her path. But all my hopes— all inv fear s, cannot be told. Suffice it to say. her father believed me when I leprtsenf ed my estates as being in Daupfuny, & dis tant province. I would not allow a farihing of Aurora's portion to be settled otherwise than on herscll: so there was one baseness of which I was not guilty. We were married. At the altar a shiver ing ran through all my veins : a general trep idation seized my whole frame—and I shoul undoubtedly have sunk to the earth iu a flood of tears, had not some one come to mj re>cue. Tie silly crowd mistook the last cry of expiring virtue for an excess of sensi bility. A fortnight after the marriage—as had been arranged hy 111}' employers, at whose mercy 1 was—we started for Montelmarijiny unfortunate bride believing that we were go ing to a far different place. Several of the engravers were themselves our attendants— disguised and acting as courtiers to our magnificent equipage. The awful moment of exposure arrived; — and when it did come, proved more terrible than ever I had anticipated. The engravers made the carriage' to be drawn up before a mean and miserable cot tage, at the door of which sat my humble but venerable father. Now came the awful disclosure. The poor, deceived and surpris ed Aurora was handed out. The engravers came up ; they pulled off their disguises ; and he whom Aurora had so pointedly refus ed. exclaimed to her : 4 'No, madam, no, you have not been boru or brought up for an engraver—such a lot would have done too much honor to you.— A bellows mender is worthy of you,—and such is he whom you have made your bus band !" Trembling and boiling with rage, I would have replied ; but the engravers entered the coach, and, like the shifting scene in a theater, a'.l our grandeur disappeared wifb them. Poor Aurora scarcely heard what had been sai l. The tiuth had flashed upon her, and she sank back in a swoon. Recollect that I had now acquired a considerable share of sen sibility and delicacy from my late life. At thai cruel moment I trembled alike at the thought of losing the woman I adored, and of seeing her restored to life. I lavished on her the most tender cares, yet almost wish ed tha/ those cares might be unavailing.— She recovered at length her senses ; but the moment her frenzied eyes met mine—"Mons ter !" she exclaimed, and again became in sensible. I profited by her condition to re move her from the sight of those who had gathered around, and to place her on a straw couch. Here I remained beside her until she opened her eyes; mine shrunk from her glance The first ue she made of her speech was to interrupt the broken exclamations of love, shame, shame and remorse, which fell from my Hps, and to beg to be left alono for a time. The niece of the curate of the par ish, however, who chanced to be by, remain ed beside her, and the poor young victim of my villainy, for she was but eighteen, eeem ed very glad of her attentions. How shall I describe the horrible night which then psed 1 It wai not on my own own adcoant that 1 feared. She alooe waa in my thoughts. I dreaded above all, for my love still predominent, to tee that heart alienated whose tenderness was necessary to ray existence, to read coldness ia that eye on whose look tny peace depended. But could it be otherwise ? Had I not basely, vilely darkened all the prospects of her life, and overwhelmed her with intolerable shame and anguish ? Tnat night was a punishme nt which would have wiped out any lesser sin. Fre quently, it may be believed, I sent to know how Aurora was. She was calm, they told me ; and, indeed, to my surprise, she entered in the morning the room where I was. She was pale, but collected. I fell before her on the ground, and spoke not. "You have de ceived me." she said ; "it is on your future conduct that my forgiveness must depend.— Do not take advantage of the authority you have usurped. The niece of the curate has ofiered me an asylum. There I will remain till this matter can be thought of calmly." Alas, these were soothing but deceitful words ! Within a day or two after this event, the interval of which I spent in forming wild hopes for the future, I ieceived at once two letters. The first was from the engravers, the cause of my exultation and my fall.— They wrote to tue that my '•acquaintances had begot in them a friendship for me; that they had each originally subscribed a certain sutn of money for the execution of the plot ; that they wished not to ca r ry their revenge too far ; and that they would supply me with money and everything oeccessary for enter ing into some business, and insuring the creditable snpport of myself and Aurora " The other letter was from Aurora. "Some remains of pity," she said " which I feel for you, notwithstanding y our conduct, induce me to inform you that I am now in Lyons.— It is mv intention to enter a convent, which will rid me of your presence; but you will do well to hold yourself in readiness to ap : pear before every tribunal in France till I have found one that will do me justice and break the chain ia which you have bound your victim." This letter threw me into dispair. I hur ried to the curate's but could learn nothing of Aurora's retreat, although I became as 6ured that the curate and his niece, despis ing my condition, had been the earnest advi sers of the step Aurora had taken. I then hastened to Lyons, where the affair had now created a great sensation. I lived unknown' however, rnd obscure, and saw only the en gravers, who, nrtwitbstanding the pa?e plot which they had through me effected, were men of not ungenerous dispositions. As i hey had driven ine out of my former means ot hveliuood. 1 conceived myself at liberty to accept a sum which they offered me to enter in'o trade with. They advised me how to dispose of it at once, and I laid it out in way which speedily, and without trouble to me augmented it greatly. Meanwhile the father of Aurora had made every preparation for annulling the marriage. This could be done only by detailing the treachery which had been practiced. Never, perhaps, was court house more crowded ihan that of Lyons 011 the day on which the case was heard. Au rora herself appeared, and rivited the eyes of all present, not to speak of my own. L T n known and unseen, I shrunk into a corner like a guilty thing. The counsel for Aurora 6tated the case, and pleaded the victim's cause with 60 much eloquence as to draw tears to my eyes. No counsel arose for me ; and Aurora, who merely sought a divorce, without desiring to inflict that punishment which she might easily have brought down on the offenders, would at'onco have gained her suit had not one man risen to speak for me. It was one of the engravers, the one who had been refused, as mentioned, by Aurora. He made a brief pleading for me, he praised my character, he showed and c> n fessed how I had been tempted and how I fell. "Yes, madam," said he, "the laws tnay declare that you are not his wife, but you hove been the wife of lis bosom. The con tract may be annulled, and no stain may rest upon yon. But a stain may be cat upon another Can you, will you throw the blot of illegitamacy upon one even more inocent than yourself ?" This appeal was under stood, and was not made in vain ; the tremb ling Aurora exclaimed, —"No, no !" and the tears fell fast as she spoke. The marriage was not annulled—was no longer sought to be annulled. But while the contract (which I had signed with my own name, believed by thetn to be the famiy name of the Marquis of Rouperon) was declared void, it was also determinad that Aurora should remain unmolested by the adventurer who had so far deceived her. Every legal precaution was takeu that I should have no contiol over her or her affairs. After this event I did not remain long in Lyons where I heard my name everywhere branded with infamy. Master, by the means I have related, of a considerable snm, I went to Paris, where I assumed a foreign name— I entered into business, and, more to drown remembrance than from any other cause, pursued it with an ardor which few have evincd under like circumstances. The wild est speculations were those whioh attracted tne most, and fortune favored me in a moat remarkable way. I bcoarne the head of a flourishing commercial house, and are fire years had passed away, had amassed consid erable wealth. I dared not think neverthe less, of attempting to go near her, until it chanced that I had it in my power materially j to serve a banker in Lyons, who pressed me much to paydiira a visit. After much unea siness and anxiety I resolved to accept the invitation. Once tnure 1 entered Lyons, and 011 this occasion with an equipage which was not borrowed, though as handsome as my former one. My friend the banker, on being questioned, told me that Aurora still lived in the convent, was admired for her reserved propriety of conhuct, and for her unremit ting attention to her child—her boy ; but he also told me that her father had just died, leaving her aim >st dependent on the charity of the abbeß9. This recital excited in me the most lively emotions. I took an opportunity soon afterwards of visiting one of the engra vers; who scarcely knew me, changed as I was, hut who received me warmly. 1 re quested him to assemble the creditors of the father of Aurora, and to pay his debts, giv ing him funds for that purpose. I told also to purchase some pieces of furniure wliich I knew to be prized by Aurora. Every hour of my stay in Lyons strengt ened my desire to see my wife,and at least to fold my b.y iu my arms, he feeling at length became irresistable, and I revealed myself to the banker, beseeching him to find some way of taking me to the convent. His astonish ment to find in me the poor, much spoken of bellows-mender, wa~ beyond description.— Happily, however, he was acquainted with the abbess, and assured me that it was easy for me at least to obtain a sight of my wife.— Ere an hour passed away my friend had ta ken me there. I was introduced as a Paii merchant, and I beheld, with emotions unspeakable, my wife seated in the convent parlor, with a lovely child a sleep on her knee, in conversation with her venerable friend. Aurora, now twenty-three y ears of age, seemed to be more lovely than ever. I had purposely wrapped myself closely up, and she knew me not, though I perceived an involuntary start when she first saw me. as if my presence reminded her cf some once familiar object I could not speak ; my friend maintained all the cenversation. But But the boy awoke ; he saw strangers pres ent, and descended from bis morher's knee. Looking at me and my friend for a moment, he came forward to me. O. what were my feelings when I found myself covered with the sweet caresses, the inocent kisses, of my child ! An emotion, which I had no power to subdue, made me rise hastily, and throw myself, with my child in my arms, at the feet of my pale and trembling wife. " Aurora! Aurora!" 1 exclaimed in brok en accents, " your child claims (rom you a father! O, pardon ! pardon !" The child clasped her knees, and seemed to plead with me. Aurora seemed ready to faint. Her lips quivered, and her eyes were fixed, as if in stupor, upon me ; a flow of tears came to her belief, and she answered my appeal by throwing herself into my arms. " I know not," she sobbed, ' whether you again de ceive me ; but your child pleads too power fully—Aurora is yours !" This event closes my history. I found Aurora much improved by adversity, and I have tasted a degree of happiness with her such as no penitence for my past offences could ever make me deserving of. Only one incident in my history, after my reconciliation with Aurora, seems worthy of attention. I took my son and her with me to Piris, but at the same time, seeing it to be my wife's wish, bought a small country house near Lyons, for her - Sometimes we spent a few weeks there, and -one occasion she invited me to go down with her to be present at a fete for which she had made preparations. Who were our guests? The ten engravers who Were the original cause of all that bad passed ! Tt was indeed a day of prido to me when I heard Aurrora thaDk ihein for the happiness which under the agen cy of a wonder working Providence, they had been the means of conferring upon her. Tf."vf A> a livley village in Illinois they have a benevolet association, one of whose objects is to watch with and take care of it? sick members. Last Fall, an unmarried lady was admitted to membership. In a couple of months she was blessed wiih a bright-eyed babe, and was very sick. Some of the young lady members expressed to the chief officer of the association their indignation, and asked him if he really tl o't it their duly to visit the unfortunate one—" Well," said he, after much deliberation 44 I suppose not. You are not obliged to watch where there is a contagioas disease!" JC3T*Ladt worti-t Monatgce' the famou# wit and beauty, made nhe most sarcastic observation that was ever published about her sex. "It goes far," said my lady, 44 to reconcile mo to being a woman, when I reflect that I am thus in no danger of ever marrying one! 4 ' what if a man had said that ? But see how another lady, the unhappy rounteas of Landsfelt, inverted the sentiment and turned the satire into the most delicate and gener ous of compliments* " I never behold a beau tiful woman," said Lola Montes in one of her lectures',, but I fell in love with her myself, end wish I were a man ibat I might utarry hr! TERM a: 01.00 ran A-IMIrtJM TUB RIGHT OF WAY. The following clipped from an exchange, is as applicable to thia region, -ai the place for which it was originally written : " Can anybody explain satisfactorily why a lady meeting a gentleman on the side walk should insist upon turning him off into the gutter? It has grown to be the custom, when people thus encounter,' Dot being-ac quainted, for a lady to run a gentleman down at once, unless he gets out ol the way. She deviates not an inch from an air line, but ignores all knowledge of the existence or presence of a body approaching in the oppo site direction. There is something positive ly disgusting in this practice. Sometimes you meet three or four ladies—girls, perhaps not out ol their teens,—forming a platoon across th? whole breadth of the walk. They pay no more attention to you, than if you were a shadow, that might be passed over without any sense of contact. You scud down 10 the curbstone, and await the transit of the avalanche of orinoline. VYhy should this be submitted to ? Why should not one of these females, recognizing your bodily pres ence and right to the use of the pavement 1 , drop behind the others, and permit you to avoid the humiliating display of your insig nificance on the edge of the curbstone or down in the gutter? These examples of what we consider downright vulgarity, are of constant occurrence. It often happens that mere chits, not out of panteletta, bear square dowu upon the ogtogenariais and compel him to the oblique movement to avoid a collision." Before the opposition party run af ter abolitionism they tried frequently to make political capital by a perversion of the clause in the Constitution which gave to ne grus a two-thirds representation. They said that slaveholders had three votes for every five 1 f their negiv.es. They knew it was false, but the truth troubled them so much that they held themselves justified in the utter ance of the falsehood: Times have changed since then, and the same fellows now propose to give, in reality to every slaveholder or "any other man" in the slave States, ten votes for every negro. The one-tenth propo sition of Old Amounts to this—nothing more, nothing less. LEGAL DEFIANCE.— Two eminent members of the Irish bar, Messrs- Doyle and Yelver ton, quarreled so violently, that from words they came to blows. Doyle, the more pow erful, (with the fist at least) knocked down his adversary twice, exclaiming with vehe mence, "D n you, you scoundrel, I'll make you behave yourself like a gentleman. To which. Yelverton, rising, answerd with equal indignation, "No, Sir, never, I defy you. I defy you !" A HINT FOR LECTURERS —How to get np "a storm of enthusiasm:" If ail other resorts fail, say "Copperhead." It is the silliest ex pression in the world, to be sure, but it is a "6itre thing.", As soon as they hear it every Abolition nineopoop in the hall will prick up his ears, give his body a shake, set his heels in motion, and tender you a double round of applause, such as the wisest sentences and strongest patriotism -.night strive in vain to elict. £3TAn afibrt was made in C-.ngress the other day to obtain from the President and Secretary of war, a list of the Persons now languishing in American prisons and bastlles, fur pollLical or State reasons. The resolution was objected to by the republicans, and therefore failed. If a nigger had bten put off the cars, there would have been a terrible row and investigation. But poor " White Trash" has come to be of no account. ONLY ONE PARTY.— Wo beg leave to re mind our abolition friends that only "one party" is allowed in time of war. Let Lin coln inen and Chase men, and Fremont men 'silence their pre' ty difference in the presence "f the great rebellion, when the life of the nation is at stake." " If there are differancea opinion among them, let them wait and sat, tie them when the war is over.** A clergyman, at an afternoon service- • was asked to read a notice for a woman's rights lecture, which he dM in thia wise j ' At half past six o'clock, at the Jscbool house in the first district, a hen will attempt to Crew' THE LAST SLAVE IN PENNSYLVANIA -HANNAH Kelley, belived to be the last slave in peon-i sylvanis, died at Crots Creen township Wash-, ingtou county, on the 15th ult. at the ad*, vanoed age of 109 years. iy No man hath a thorough taste of .- prosperity to whom adveraity never hap pened. ft-y If men show their fhlth by their works, the faith of a good many would seem to he iu the devil M D<> yoq see anything ridiculous in thia wig 1" said a brother judge to ' Nothing bat the head/' hotbed' VOL. 3, NO. 34
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers