m. T_t/ HI V "Proprietr NEW SERIES, Aweekljr Democratic ppr, devoted to Poll ie, New., the Arts j pmj, at Tuakhannock " HfWoSU ¥ HARVEY SICKLERa Terns—l copy 1 year, (in advance) *2.00 'et paid within six months, <2.50 will be charged If paper will be DISCONTINGFD, until all ar- | *>er*fes are paid; unlaw at the option of publisher. ADVERTIfIUNTG. IS lint* *r . . le*t, make three]four two three six • one n*square weeks weeks mo'th mo'th mo'th , year I Too 1.25 2,25 2,87 3,00) 5,00 t do 2,00 2,50 6,50 3.50 4 50. 6,00 1 do 3,00 3,75 00,otf 5,50 7.00 i 9ioo ft Column 400 *.5 8,00 10-00| 15,00 ft do 600 6 154,7112,00; H'WJ 25,00 ft do 800 750 }4|60, ! 18,00: 25.00 35,00 1 do. 10,Oo! 120 22,00:28,00 40,00 " EXECUTORS, ADMINISTRATORS and AUDI TOR'S NOTICES, of the usual length, 52.50 OBITUARIES,- exceeding ten lin fice in Stark's Brick Block Tioga St., Tunk kanneck, Pa. s &{jf SU£[)Ut §NUS£, HARRISBURGf PKNNA. The endersigned baring lately purchased the ••ffiUKHLER HOUSE " property, has already coui ■Meed such alterations ond improvements as will render this old and popular House equal, if not supe rior, to any Hotel in the City of Harrisburg. A*continuance of the public patronage is refpect fnlly solicited. 7 GEO. J. BOLTON WALL'S HOTEL, LATE AMERICAN HOUSE, TUNKHANNOCK. WYOMING CO., PA TUIS establishment has recently been refitted an furnished in the latest style Every attention will he given to the comfort and convenience ol those" the petronice the House. . T. B W ALL, Owner and Proprietor . Tuakhanneck, September 11, 1661. NORTH BRANCH HOTEL, MESUOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, I*A Win. H. CORTRIGHT, Prop'r HAVING resumed the proprietorship of the abov. Hotel, the undersigned will spare no effort to feeder the houae an agreeable pluce ol sojourn f all who may favor it with their custom. Win H CORTRIGHT. Jane, 3rd, 1863 stos Until, TOWANDA, PA. D- B- BARTLET, (Late eft. "BRAINARD HOUSE, ELMIRA, N Y. PROPRIETOR. The MEANS HOTEL, i- one of tbe LARGEST aad BEST ARRANGED House, in the country—lt ie Itted up in the most modern and improved style, aad ao pains are spared to make it a pleasant and agreeable stopping-place for all, v 3, nil, \y. CLARKE, KEENEY AAATRXCTURXAS AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IN LADIES', MISSES' & BENTS' fjHuiMasshiurf flats AND JOBBERS IN HATS. CAPS, FURS, STRAW GOODS, {PARASOLS AND UMBRELLAS, BUFFALO AND FANCY ROBES, H49 PROADWAY, CORNER OF LEONARD STREET, a. r. CLABX, > a. • KSSSST, [ A. IXKBSBT. J M. GILMAiN, iff OILMAN, ha. permanently located in Tank I*la hannoek Borough, and respectfully tenderhi profeisiooal service, to the cltixene of this placeand ■errounding country. ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIT HON. Office over Tutton's Law Offi e near the Post ffiffioe NEW TAILORING SHOP The Subscriber having had a sixteen years prac lieal experience ip cutting end making clothing- BSW emtrt Wr eerviee. in tlda line to the citizen, o- VlcaobßON and vicinity. AIM* wishing to get Fiu will find kia shop tbe ytaee to get them. W-UMvm. JHT'S ©OWN 1 . '•ASHES OP LIFE," I have all I could uish for, darling, yea, this i. a beauti ul room, Heavy silken hangings shut out the brooding gloom, Velvet carpet, and rosewood, picture and music here, And Looks, aye, many a volume of author. I hold most dear. And 'tis only about a twelvemonth since I became a wife, And yet I am tired, so tired weary almost of life; A dumb, sick longing for something—what it is I hardly know— Think ng and blindly wondeiing why the dear God male us so, Why the world counts heart-throbs by what they weigh in gold, And lips smile gay and cheery when the heart is dank and cold. I am tired of all this splendor, sated with empty show, Hating myself for wishing and haviDg nowhere to K° John is always so busy he has never a moment to spare In a foolish caress, or even to praise my eyes and hair As he used to , well when one's married we must not think of these, Yet 'tis hard tAel ao - all alone" when ona tries ao much to please. I think sometimes I was happier in my old home by the mill ; 1 can see the golden sunlight and fresh June rosea still! The river winding in and out, through the valley's grassy woof, And the elm tree's drooping pranches bending o'er the mossy roof ; Daisy, and Bet, and Brindle, down in the clover lot, An t a dreamy sweetness hanging o'er each dear [emeuibered spot; And .there in the little arbor, where I used to read to Koy- You remember him, d.n't you, Anderson's oldest boy 1 Browning and Longfellow he loved, but, oh well, it . was idle paly ; Yet he's getting a f itn lawyer, down in Ilamp stead nsw, thry My : I used to thisk that 1 loved him—perhaps it was but a whim— But there's always a flutter at my heart e'en yet when I think of him. • And that is very seldom, for I kDew it is a sin, But one cannot always stay the fire that femes so wild within ; And it seems somehow that destinies get strangely jumbled up. Some of ue sip from pleasure's and some from sor row's cup. Now I've told you uiora, my darling, tbn I've ever told betorc. And I'll shut my heart this moment, and open it never more. Tbe dear God's love and mercy is underlying it all, And he knows what is best for us who " noteth the sparrow'e fall " We muet learn to be patient— ch, sweet Chiist t make us so, And guide our weary footsteps where Thou would.! hate us go. Jlclcct Jstorg. lIOQ,EET OF ROSES. Walking in my garden the other day, I stopped bi f 'r< a tree covered with yellow rose*, and looking at them reminded rae of a tale, which 1 will relate. Two years since, I dropped iu to spend my evening with an old lady who resides near my house. She is a most charming person—amiable, clever, witty, and charit able in all things. She is passionately fond of flowers; and yon will scarcely credit the coquetry and gallantry I expend in making boquets for her, nor how much I rejoice at her surprise when i bring her a flower of the name of which she is ignor ant, or which is very uncommon in our part of the country. One evening, when I arrived at her house, I found her seated with an old gen tleman w ho had been residing on his prop erty more than a year, —a handsome es tate in the vicinity, which had been left bun by a distant relative, on condition of his taking tiie name cl his hi nefactor; con sequently he was called Monsieur Di-seoud* raies. lie had obtained an introduction to mv old lady, and I had every reason to be jealous of bis assiduities. They became warm friends, and passed almost every eve ning together, playing backgammon. I bowed silently, on the evening in ques tion, as I entered, not to interrupt the game, When it was finished, I presented Madame de Lorgerel a bouquet of yellow roses which I had brought for her. My roses were very Beautiful, and singu larly so because the continued lains of ihe season had blighted most of those of the neighboring gardens ; butlhul taken the precaution of sheltering mine by a shed: and they were, perhaps, the on.y ones to be met with in perfection. Madame deL<>r gerel uttered an exclamation of d'-light • hen she saw she beautiful l.oquet. Mon sieur Deseoudries said nothing, but seemed preoccupied. I looked at him with sur prise, not well able to comprehend the mys tenons influence of my yellow roses. Mad. de Lorgerel shortly afterwards spoke of ' something else; and 1 thought 1 ha i been j mistaken. A minute or two subsequently Monsieur Descoudraies suddenly burst out laughing, and said, " (Tould you believe that this bou- "TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERT FREEMAN'S RIGHT. M -Thi TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCT. 10, 1866 quet has evoked a9 by magic, an entire ep och of my youthful days? For five min utes 1 was only, in imagination, twenty years of age, —for five minutes I became again in love with a woman, who, if she ex ists, must be at least sixty years of age. I must tell you this history ; It is one which has had an immense influence on my life, and of which the memory, even now,moves me in an extraordinary manner, —even now, when my blood has only just warmth enough to keep rae alive, ann't at all disapprove of the object of your aff cti >n." "Alt, Uncle, did yon know her soul?" "I know, —I understand alll about it.— And does she return your affection, as we u*ed to say ? Is that still what ycu young ones call it ?" "I don't know, uncle " "How! You don't know, nephew, un worthy of an uncle like myself? How ? You are every day in her house, and don't know yet whether you are loved." "She does not even know that I love her." "Oh, in that idea you are not mistaken, mv handsome nephew, an 1 comprehend nothing of woman's nature! She knew it at least a quarter of an hour before you did so yourself." "All 1 know uncle, is, that I shall kill myselt unless she marries me !" "O, oh ! (Tell, then, I can tell you that there exists many chances against your union. Y'our father is tnqoh richer than her 9; and will not give his consent" " (Tell, t ten, I know the ouly thing that is left rae to do." "C'o.ue, come, li-ten to me. Let us see, don't go and commit any act of folly. Let us look into the business." "I am all attention, uncle." "In the first place, then, you cannot marry at twenty years of age." " (Thy not, for goodness sake I" "Because I don't choose yon should do so. And, without me, this marriage can not take place." "O, my good, dear uncle !" "If she loves you, and you will promise to wait three years—" "Three years?" "Don't argue with me, or I will say four. If she will promise to wail three years, you shall join your regiment, but not at Clermont, I will get you an ex cha'.ge into one a few leagues from Paris ; and you shall come here once every three months until the expiration of the given time." "But how am I to know whether she loves me ?" "How are you lo find it out? By ask ing it, to be sure !" "Ah, dear uncle, I never dare do so !" "Then obey pour father, and pack up your portmanteau." "But you do not know tbe girl. A hun dred times I wished to tell her I loved her. I have bitterly blamed myself for my tim idity. I tried everything to gain courage to speak ; I learned my speeches by heart; I wrote piles ofletters; out, when the mo ment arrived, the first word I endeavored to utter choked me, and I began speaking of something else. She had so sw eta look, and yet so stern, that it seemed to me she could not love. As for the letters, it was far worse At the moment I attempt to give them, I found them so stupid that nothing appear ed diminutive enough to tear them into, lest a word should appear against rae." " Well, but, my boy, you must decide at last, and for this reason—your father has not confided all to you. If he sends you to deimont it is because the colonel of your regun-'nt is a friend of his, ..ml has a daughter, and this daughter is destined for you, because it will be a good and rich mar riage. But don't answer me ; I know all this is nothing when we love. 'Tis a very stupid thing to think thus, and love disin terestedly ; but I should be sorry not to have been guilty of so doing. Only men of biassed minds are incapable of tbe like I know the old call these delusions; but who knows whether it is not they who are self-deceived? The glass which diminish es objects is not more true than the one which enlarges them. If she loves you, you should sacrifice everything for her. It will be very foolish to do so, but quite right ; and you must do it ; but first find out whether she loves you. and you have an excellent opportunity of doing so. Thev wish to make Iter marry, nepew,—you turn pale at this idea ! You would like to have, this odious rival at sword's length Well, then try and gain a little of this not able courage in the presence of vour fair Noemi They want her to marrv; you are richer tl*an she, hut the man they pro pose to give her is richer than yourself, besides being titled and quite ready (the wedding clothes and presents arc also;) whereas they would he obliged to wait for you. Now go and seek Noemi, tell her you love her, —she knows if, but it is, nev ertheless, a thing always told. Ask her if she returns your affection; and tell her— for she must love yon, I am sure—you are young, handsome and witty. Ask her to promise solemnly to wait three years for you, but to write to me, and I will keep the hitter. I will then break off your marriage with the colonel's daughter. I will get your exchange ; and despite your father, in three years you shall marry Noemi!" "Uncle, I've an idea." "Let's hear it." "I'll write to her." "Just as you please, my boy ; only act at once. "1 quitted mv uncle, and went to write my epistle. This was not the most diffi cult task. I had written fiftv letters to her before, though I had never fo-warded them The most embarrassing circumstance was to ser.d or give it. Nevertheless, as there was no time to be lost. I made tip my mind, and, purchasing a bouquet of yellow roses, placed the note in the centre of them It is very silly, hut I seemed even now to live over the time again in memory. After the avowal of my love, I besought her to love me, make nie happy, and wait three years for me. I implored her, if she consented, that evening to wear one of the yellow roses in her bosom. "I shall then dare to speak to you," I said, and tell what you must do to securs my happiness. 1 dare not say our*." "And you put the note in the bouquet?" asked Madam tie Lorgerel. "Yes, madam," "And then ?" "Well, then , in the evening Noemi had no rose in her bosom ! I wanted to kill mvself, but my uncle carried me off to Clermont. He remained two months with me, mixed with the young officers, and ended by calming my sorrow and disap pointment, by proving to me that Noemi had never loved me. "But, uncle," I said, "she was—she appeared happy when I ar rived, and reproaohed me gently for com ing late." "Women," continued Monsieur Des— couiraies, "love the devotion of all the world ; but there are those th y never love In short, I ended by almost forgetting her. Then I married the colonel's daughter,who died eight years after our marriage ; and now lam quite alone, for my uncle has bee.i dead a long .irae, - would you believe I often think of Noemi ? and—that which is more serious and absurd—l always tee her in imagination as a youn<* girl of sev enteen, with her dark brown hair, and, aa my uncle said, her eyes like black velvet! JFhereas, if living, she must be now an old woman." Yon don't know what has become of her?"asked Madame de Lorgerel. " Not" " Your name then i not Des coudraies?" she hastily inquired. "No ; that is the name of the property left me by my uncle. My name ia Ed tu ond d'Altbiem." "So it is 1" "How do you kuow ?" "I will tell you," ahe added, without re plying to his question, "what has become of Noemi." "Can you ?" "Yes : she loved you !" "But the yellow rose ? "fShe did not see the uote. Your hasty departure caused her many tears ; then, afterwards, she married Monsieur de Lor gerel." "Monsieur de Lorgerel ?" "Yes, Monsieur de Lorgerel, whose wid ow I am to-day." T Fhat! you Noemi Amelot ?" "Alas ! yes, as truly as you arc, aud are not like, Edmond d'Altbiem !" "Good gracious ! who would ever have thought that a day could arrive in which we should not recognize each other ? "Yes, it is 6trange, is it not ? And only reunited to play backgammon !" "But the bouquet ?" "The bouquet is here. I always preserv ed it." And Madame de Lorgerel went to a cup board, and, opening a box in ebony, took out a faded bouquet. She trembled as •he did so. "Untie it ! untie it!"' said Monsieur De - coudraies. She untied the bouquet, and found the note which had been hidden there forty-two years ! Both of them remained silent. I wished to go, but Monsieur Discoudraies rose. Madame de Lorgerel took his hand, and said : "You are right. We must not let this memory of youth in our hearts pass be fore two old face* like ours. Let us avoid anything so ridiculous which would de grade the noble sentiment which will, per haps, make us happy the remainder of our lives. Do not return for some days." Since that evening, Descoudraies and Madame de Lorgerel scarcely ever quitted each others society. There exists between them a sentiment such as I never before beheld. They go over together all the minute details of that one which -was never explained or express ed. They have a thousand things to tell each oilier. They love iu retrospection.— They would much like to be married; but they dare not, so much does ridicule often mar out the purest wishes. N. B. —Young ladies, always untie and well examine any anonymous bouquet you may receive; for a lover is more agreeable at twenty than at sixty; and foity years of expectation is really no joke! A FATAL DRINKING IFAGER— A fool ish wager was made at a wine shop which resulted in death. At a breakfast, where the conversation turned on the quantity of drink which a person could take, a Brick layer, named Florentine, made a bet that he would drink twelve glasses of wine when the clock of the Tuileries was stri king twelve. He drank thrae glasses be fore the clock had struck three times. At the next glass he stopped to breathe. At the seventh he began to driuk more slowly but, making an effort he drank of the eighth glass. He then turned very pale, and breath'd with difficulty. His friends wished to stop the wager, but he said he would go on, come what miebt, and SWAI lowed the ninth glass. lie had hardly emptied the glass when he fell down .senseless. A surgeon was sent for; but in spite of all his efforts, the foolish man died in three hours. WHAT THE HEART IS. — The heart is like a plant in the tropics, which all the year round is bearing flowers, and ripening seeds, and letting them fly. It is shaking off memories and dropping associations. The joy l of last year are ripe seeds that will come up in joy again next year. Thus the heart is planting seeds in every nook and corner ; and as a wind which serves to prostrate a plant is only a sower coming forth to sow its leeds, planting some of them in rocky crevices, some by river courses, some among mossy stones, some by warm hedges, and some in garden and open field, so it is with our experience of life that sway and bow us either with joy and Forrow. They plant everything round aoout us with heart seeds. Thus a house becomes sacred. Every room hath a memory, and a thousand of them; every door and window is clustered with associa tions. — POWER OF GENTLENESS. — No bad man is ever brought to repentance bv angry word*—by bitter, scornful reproaches.— He fortifies himself against reproof, and hurls back foul charges in the face of his accuser. Yet, guilty and hardened as he seems, he has a heart in bis bosom, and may be melted to tears by a gentle voioe, (Those, therefore, can restrain his disposi tion to blame and find fault, and can bring himself down to a fal'en brother, will soon find away to better feelings within. Pity | and Patience are the two keys which tm i lock the human heart. They who hare been most successful laborers among the poor and vicious, have been the moet for bearing. "Belles" call a giaat many people to tfcarefc- TJDZtMSv Sfi.OO JPUHL AimT3M VOL. 6 NO. 10 A WORD TO WIVES. Little wives ! if ever a half suppressed sigh finds place with you, or a half-unlov ing word escapes you to the husband whom you love, let your heart go back to some tender word in those first love-days; re member how you loved him then, how ten derly he wooed you, how timidly you re sponded ; and if you can feel that you have not grown ur.worlhy, trust him for the same fond love now. If you do feel that through many cares and trials of life you have become less lovable and attaactive than you then were, turn—by all that you love on earth, or hope for in heaven— turn back, and be the pattern of loveliness that won him ; be the "deai one" your attrac tions made you then. Be the gentle, lov ing, winning maiden still, and doubt not the lover you admired will live forever in your husband. Nestle by his side, cling to his love, and let his confidence in you never fail; and my word for it, the husband will be dearer than the lover ever was. Above all things, do not forget the love he gave you first. Do not see kto "emancipate." A LAW JOKE—A lawyer of fluid ten dencies was discussing some nice point of law, and getting out of patience at the ina bility of the court to take his own view of it, said the intellect of the court was so dark a flash of lightning could not penetrate it. The judge, being a new-comer, and not knowing tbe peculiarities and failings of the man, imposed a severe punnishment on him for contempt of court. Some of tbe lawyer's friends stated the case to his hon or, and the punishment was remitted on the condition that he should publicly apolo gize to the court. lie was accordingly brought up the following morning, and made amends by sayinor.— 4t l regret very much that I said, in the heat of the moment, that the intellect of the court was so dark lightning could not pen etrate it. I guess it could ; it is a very penetrating thing." |jg" Music is one of the fairest and most glorious gifts of God, to which Satan is a bitter enemy, for it removes from the heart the weight of sorrow and the fascination of evil thoughts Music is a kind and gen tle sort of discipline; it refines the passion and improves the understanding. Those who love music are gentle and honest in their tempers. I always loved music, and would not for a great matter be without this littie skill which I possess iu the heavenly art. MODESTY AND PRESUMPTION*. —The modest deportment of those who are truly wise, when contrasted with the assuming air ot the young and ignorant, may be com pared to the different appearance of wheat, which, while its ear is empty, holds up its head proudly, but as soon as it is filled with grain, bends modestly down, and withdraws from observation. A SENSIBLE MAN. —A Jerseyman was very sick, and was uot expected to recov er. His friends got around his bed, and one of tbem says, "John, do you feel wil ling to die !" John made an effort to give his views on tbe subject, and auswered witu hisfcebe voice, "I—think—l'd rither staj —where I'm better acquainted." A little girl,after having been to chnrch was very fond of preaching to her dolls.— Her mother overheard her one day reprov ing one for being so wicked. "Oh, you naughty sinful child," she said, shaking its waxen limbs. "You'll just go to that place of brimstone and molasses, and you won't burn up—you'll just sizzle." t3T "Did tbe rainisler put a stamp on you when you was married, Mary ?" "A stamp, Charlie! What for, pray ?" "Why, matehes ain't legal without A stamp, yon know !" CONSOLING A WIDOW.—A clergyman consoling a widow on the death of her hus band, remarked that she could not find his. equal. "I don't know about that," remarked the sobbing fair one," but I'll try." A Coquette treats a lover like a bo qut —carries him about a certain time tor % amusement or show, and then quietly picks him to pieces. tW A young lady of this town, a short time ago, in a fit of desperation, hung her self to a limb—of the law. Black men are not always proud. On®, of them presided at a radical meeting in Oberlin, Ohio. |g* Mrs. Veal, who had lately given birth to a son, was offended at a neighbor's inquiry for the health of her young calf. An eminent German musician says there are better judges of ransic in the United States, better critics and better performers than can be found in Europe. The Chicago papers tell of a dog ( that was taken from that vicinity across the plains to California, but did'nt like the country and footed it back to his old home. tar An old mdid is like an odd boot— of no use without a fellow.