• • • • - : • . • • • .141 • • & e't % NI. • ••• . , . • f•-• ' • •• .• •,, • . 11:1111.5.11111.11 • . x •••- -r .7! . ••;;:. •• -- '•%‘ . ii-iStek sb t . 4.. • ; or •• 4 ;4 • . • • • , • ~ • • X3 - yr "%717..38Led.r. VOLUME XXIII. JUST• THE THING nal ALL IUUST iIAvE! • ,ow is the time to economize when money is JA - startez ---- Yotr - shoutd-study- your - interest—by supplying your wants at the first class store of C. BEA V-DR, North-east corner of the Diamond. He does business on the only successful method, viz: by buying his goods for matt. The old fogy , idea of buying goods at high prices ana on long EXPLODED. Call and examine our fine stock and don't be RUINED <by poying p . per, cent. too much for your goods elsr ,where. We will,chalengo the community to show comp forth a morelite stock of , HATS, all of thevqry,latest styles and to suit all, at " C. N. BEAVER'S.. BOOTS, all kinds and i inices, at , C . N. BEAVER'S. SHOES, of every description for Men's, Ladies; Misses' and Children's wear, at___ C. pr. BEAVER'S. , CLOCKS, every one warrantiAl.ano sold by C. N• BE VER. TRUNKS.of all sizes, the very hest xnanufacture, also warranted and soil by - C. N. BEAVER. VALISES, of every kind, also very cheap, at C. N. BEAVER'S. HATS, for Ladies, Misses and Children, a (rob pitly_re.cei s yed rvery_week,and-sold by C. N. BEAVER. _ wa._soLd lONS a full lin by - C. N. B EAVER. . P A PER COLLARS, fot Men and Boys wear, the most complete and ,finest assortment in town, by- C. N. BEAV ER. HOSIERY, of every kind, for sale, by - C. N. BEAVER. GLOVES, for Men and Boys wear, ac SUsPF.NDERS, for Men end Boys wear, at C. N. BEAVER'S. CANES AND UMBREI # VAS, a complete stock at -' C. N. BEAVER'S. BROOMS AND BRUSHES, of the "verybest ,kind, at C. BEAVER'S. 'l'o !SACCO, to suit the taste of al/, at C. N. BEAVER'S. CIGARS, which cannot be beat, for sale. --- by SNUFF, which we ettalenge any one to excel in ,(uoiity, for sale_ntC. N. BEAVER'S. INK and PAPER, of every d4scription, at C. N. BEAVER'S. CANDIES, tilwaye free); too, for sale, at C, N. BEAVER'S. SPICES, for sale CRACKERS, of every rind, at C. N. BEAVER'S lIDIGO BLUE, at . C. N. BEAVER'S. ,CO!.!iCENTEATED LYE, foasale, at O. N. BEAVER'S. KEROSENE, of the very bent,—Pitts. 01), at • C. N. BEAVER'S. LAMP CHLVINIES also, . at C. N. BEAVER'S, And many other articles not necessary to mention. We now hope that you will giye us a share of your patronage. We are indeed, thankful to you for past patronage, and hope a continuance of the same, and remain yours truly, CL'A RENCE N. BEAY,ER. Waynebboro, June 2, 1870. GROVER & BIKER FIRST PREMIUM ELASTIC STITCH FAMILY SEWING MACHINES, ' 495 Broadway, New York. 730 Chestnut street, Philadelphia. POINTS OF EX.CELLENOg. Beauty and Elasticity of stitch. Perfection and simplicity• of Machinery. Using bath threads directly from the spools, No fastening of seams by hand and no waste 0 hrentl. Wide range of application without change of adr 'lament, • The seam retains its beauty and firmness after • totting and ironing. Besides dotng all kinds of work done by other fachines, these Machines execute the most beauti. ill and permanent Embroidery and ornamental ork. . Mr The Highest Premiums at nil the fairs and • xhibitione of the United Btates and Europc,,have )oen awarded the Grover & Baker Bowing Ma hines, and the work done by them, wherever ex bi competition. if . ilk The very highest prize, Tun Ono or viz or HONOR, web conferred on the represents ‘,„.l the Grover & Baker sewing Machines, at he Exposition Universe's, Paris, 1869, thus attest ng their great superiority over all other tiewiug Ma :trines. For sal3 by D. W r ROBISON, Wayneaboro'. NOTICED The nodetsigaed having had 17 years' ;cperieree es a practical operator on Sapring trines wvuld recommend the Lirover.& Daher Pam: y Machin as the.cheapest and best machine for imily use. The siniplipity of construction awl lasticity of stitch made by these machines are tyro cry. important, points in their favor. 2AiO r oQq of iese niachices,are to•day bearing itritn'esif to the uth of our assertions and the. demand is ,ateadify. • 'creasing. We have also shuttle machines on hand for Tail s and Coach trimmer? bse. Caltand see us. 1). W. ROBIiiON, • Waynesboro', Pa. Cr. O. MOLABBo3.—The'subscrihers have just received a prime lot of Now Orleans Molasses tue hohdays PlfICE4r. HOE, FLIOLf. We do not remember to have seen the following in print before, though it is similar to many other touching accounts of the 'Martyr President's' kindness which• the world will not willingly forget. • A lady of Maine who tells the story in the Portland Advertiser, interested• herself in behalf of the doomed deserter, for whose reprieve they had toiled three weeks in vain, and she thus describes her visit to the Executive man sion , •,..ng a female servant crossing the hall, Lasked : 'will you carry a_card to Mrs. Lin coln ?' 'You can not see her, she is sick.' 'I do not wish to sae her. IVilryou car ry her a card T' The servant assenting, I penoiled a few words upon a card, the purport of which may be guessed. At length Secretaries, Chase, Seward, and Stanton, came out, so that I knew the Cabinet meeting was over. And now, is it possible, the usher approaches us, C. N. BEAVER'S. I banded him one—the letter of a little child, the daughter of the condemned. It was the child's own thought, as she had mitten it without proinpting or aid, and while the President is reading it you may do the same. To Ilis Excellency the President of the United States 'Most honored and excellent sir: How shall a child make the attempt to write to you on such a business as' this concerning my father, J. W. C., who is sentenced— Oh ! how can I write it ?—to be shot'?-- Spare his poor life, I °beseech you, and many thanks shall be given you. it his life js ta ken, my mother • cannot stand this heavy blow, and will soon go also. lam the oldest of five children, I have three sisters under eight years. Do not leave us fatherless, 1 beseech yott. I would freely give my life to save his. 'VIRGINIA C.' The usher soon returns, the door that has seemed of adamant opens before us, and with a bewildering feeling we enter. The President is sitting near a table, nearly facing the door, and as he greets us politely, I no. Lice traces of tears upon his face. His voice, too, betrays emotion. President,' I. said, with what steadi ness 1 could command, 'the husband of this lady, J. W. C., Tweuty•Seventh Regiment, —Volunteers, is sentenced to be shot, as we have learned from the letter, and we are come to ask you to spare his life. Men's lives are getting to be pre roue.' know it, but I must o something to keep those fellows, or half them would run away.' After some ooveraation, whic can not exactly recall, he said at last : 'Now you women may go home comforted, I have telegraphed fur him not to be exe cuted until I send an order,'and I don't in tend to send that order.' The poor woman at my side could poly weep her thanks, but I recollect saying, more than once, 'We thank yip a thousand times, air.' The President rose and dismissed as in a pleasant and cheerful way, but yet with such kindly sympathy in word and manner as I remember. And so •we went out; and that good tape never looked so good to meet any other time, except when I looked upon it lying amid Um lamentation and heart• breaking of a great people,• so placid and graceful, as if. death, to Oa great martyr, were .only another name for• immortality. I will only add that I subsequently knew something of the -soldier, and never had any cause to regret the interest I had felt in his behalf. • 'Please give the 'devil his due,' as the printer's apprentice said to hie employer on Saturday night.' WAYASBORO ) , FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, THURSDAY MORNING, JULY 2S, iB7O. POIEITIO.AL.L. NT CREED. BY JOHN G. WHITTIER . . I bold that Christian grace abounds Where charity is seen that when We climb to Heaven, Nis on the rounds. 01 love to men. I hold all else named piety A selfish scheme, a vain pretense ; Where centre is not, can there , be Circumference? This I moreover frog, and dare Affirm where'er my rhyme may go * . Whatever things be sweet or fair, Love makes them so. Whether it be the lullabies. That charm to rest the nestling bird, On that sweet confidence of sighs, And blushes without word ; Whether-the dazzling and the flush Of softly sumptuous garden bowers, Or by some cabin door or btish Ot ragged flowers. not the wide phylactery, • Nor stubborn fast, or stated prayers, To make us saints ; we judge the tree By what it bears. And when a man can live apart From work on rheologic trust.. 1 know the blood about his heart Is dry as dust. 1 1 7-1 1 0_ , LitA STORY OF MR. LINCOLN 'Have you any letters for the President ?' ....333....tiacter)033clemat rietriall3r INTevErsgroaveme. Will He Succeed ? In nine cases out of ten, no man's life will be a success if he does not bear burdens in his-elaildheoci.----l;-the-fontiness-or-the=varti ty of - father or mother kept him from contact with hard work; if another always helped him-, out-at-the-end-of-his row -r if T instead-o taking hie turn at pitching off, he moved a• way all the time—in short if what was light, always fell to him, and what was heavy a. bout the same work to some one else; if he has been permitted to' shirk till 'shirking has become a habit—unless a.miraele is wrought,. his life will be a - failure, and the blame will be a failure, and the blame will not be half as much his as that of weak, foolish parents. — oiFt has - Rien bro't up to da his 'part ; never allowed to shirk any legitimate responsibility- o r permitted , t o dodge work, whether or not it made his back ache or soiled his band. until • t • g burdens became a matter of pride, the heavy end of the wood his from choice—parents, as they bid him good-bye, may dismiss their fears. Ills life will not be a business failure. The elements of success are his, and at some time and in some way the world will recog nize his capacity. Take another point. Money is the object of the world's pursuit. It is a legitimate ob ject. It gives bread, and clothing, and•howes and comfort. The world has not judged wholly unwisely when it has made the posi tion a man occupies to hinge more or less on his ability to earn money, and somewhat up. on the amount of his possessions. If he is miserably poor, it either argues some defect in his busy recklessness in his expend. of funiss to cope with men in the great battle for gold. When a country-bred boy leaves home it is generally to enter upon some business the end of which is- to acquire property and he will succeed just in proportion as he has been made to earn and save in his childhood. If all the money he has has some of planting a little patch in the spring, and se!. ling its produce_after_weary_moriths-of watch ing and toil, io the fall, or from killing wood chucks at six cents a head, or from trapping muskrats, and selling their skins for a shil ling ; 'setting snares in the fall for game, and walking miles to see them in the morning be. fore the'oldliTtlks.wetTs up; husking corn for -a-neighbor,—moonlight-evenings: at two cents a bushel; working out an occasional day that hard work at home has made possible—he is good to make his pile in the world. On the contrary, if the boy never earned a dollar; if parents and friends always kept him is spending money—pennies to buy can dy and fish-hooks, and 'satisfy his imagined wants—and he has grown up to manhood in the expectation that the world will generally treat him with similar consideration, he will always be a make-shift; and the fault is not so much his as that of those about him, who never made the boy depend on himself—did not make him wait .six 'months to get money to replace a lost ,jack-knife. Everybody has to rough it at one time or another. If the 'roughing comes io boy. hood, it does good, if later, when habits are formed, it is equally tough, •but not being educational, is generally useless. And the question as to whether a young man will sue coed in making money or not depends not upon where he goes or what he does, but up on his willingness to do 'his part,' and upon his having earned money, and so gained a knowledge of its wealth. Not a little of this valuabk experience and knowledge the coun try boy gets on the old farm, under the ta• telage of parents shrewd enough to see, the end from the beginning, and make the labor and grief of children attribute to the success of subsequent life.—Hearth and Home. What is Heaven As the Indian draws near the river of death, he looks forward to the time when, in some disigiat region, ho may again call his faithful dog to his side, take up once more his bow and quiver, and roam over nobler hunting grounds than those of his native for est. The heathen poet in hie hour of dissoln. tion dreams of happy isle, filled with beauti. ful meadows, enameled with brilliant flowers, and fanned by fragrant zephyrs where the souls of the good shall dwell with congenial spirits forever. . The Christian, as his eyes close upon the joys and sorrows of earth, seems to hear a voice saying, 'Eye hath not seen nor ear hath heard, neither bath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things that God bath prepared for those that love him.' Hearing this sweet voice, the dying Chris tian, with a smile on his lips and a radiance in his eyes, murmurs, 'Jesus my all,' and breathes no more. Ah ! who would exchange the imaginary hunting grounds of the Indian, or the flow ing meadOws of the heathen poet, for the heaven where Jesus is ?—Sundull School Times. A STRAW.ENGINE —Any one who has ,ever felt like questioning the fact that a loco motive engine is among the marvellous area tioos of human skill, should study the mam moth machines-Which propel the immense ocean steamers like the Scotia and the Persia. There is something awful io this ponderous iron auaton*', as it throbs and sobs in the bosom of these huge leviathans, Yon have only to know that the engine of the Persia works up to . three thousand horse powers, consumes one hundred tons of coal daily and employs sixty-two engineers, firemen and laborers, to form some idea of its ettortnous dimensions and capacities. All this mass of metal and of men, with seventeen hundred tons of coal (at the starting,) is hidden away from the passengers, who rarely descend into the Plutonian caves to see and study the' stupendous triumphs of human genius which is driving a ship of three: thousand four hun dred tonnage, through theetermy . end treach erous sea. A Weary Life. A man died in Kansas City, several weel ago whose life had been a weary one—any ~arherhaidertirair-ire— e nrti those who knew him there were a few bin of a brief death struggle that was not nab_ - ralT — George — R—, was born in Kentucky, A week or two einette was called and went to Cooper county, Missouri, at the visit a patient who was kthoring under a age of sixteen. This was in 1848 Soon his severe attack of cheap whisky., parents died, and he was left alone and pen. 'Well, doctor, I'm down you see— com nilese. In 1856 he went to California, en• pletely floored. I've got the tremendous tered the mines with the zest of a boy, worked delirium, you know l' hard, was successful, bought land near Sae. 'Tiemens, you fool!. Where'd you get ramento City, and soon became a rich and your rum ?' prosperous man. In 1858 he met the wo. 'All over-in spots; broke out promiscuous man who, through no fault of his, was to ex- ly, doctor !' ert such i'eid influence upon all his after 'served you right.' life. This woman was said to be, beautiful, 'Father died of the same disease; h took accomplished, pure aid lovable. R— met him under the short ribs and carried him off her, was fascinated, proposed , and as a result bodily!. been suggested, if it had not been de - elided upon, and for one brief month the sun of happiness shone out eolacingly before the clouds passed over it forever. Preceeding the wedding, it became necessary for R— to return to the mines to arrange some bug nese there claiming his immediate attention. Ile went, became involved in a quarrel with a man be had never seen, was attacked, and, to save his own life, killed his antagonist.— The dead man was his intended's brother.— Ile did not•know it then, nor until his trial was over, nor until after be went again to Sacramento to see all that be bad ever known and loved. It is not necessary to interview—the terrible remorse on one side, frenzied reproach and regrets on the other. - R—'s grief was no leas bitter than that of the stricken sister, and so when she said to him, I will love you till I die, but I will nav er marry you on this earth, because my bro ther's blood is on your hands, he sold out ev= erything he owned in California, and came back to Missouri, the two first pledgieg 'them selves to each othe_r_to conespond_as_regular as the condition of the mails then permitted, She wrote once only and no more. _ln -a, month following her first letter, she, too, had gone to join her brother in the eternal world. This second blow fell heavier than the first; for the poor man had some hope while the woman lived. Now he was alone forever.— Presently the war came and R— enlisted in-the - Confederate - army. In the hot charge made upon the Graveyard Fort, at Helena, -Arkansas, a minnie ball passed through both of 11—'8 cheeks, and out his tongue even. Toff about midway iu its length. After that he an intelligible word again.— Indeed he eared very little to speak, In sub sequent battles he tried hard to throw his life away, and was note - d - irchis - commandlOn - h - e most reckless audacity. At Jenkins Ferry it seemed as if he would get what he most desired, for ho was badly shot in the head, the skull being fractured and the brain ex posed. He recovered so much that the wound healed, bnt the poor man had convulsions un til he died. .It is supposed these convulsions impaired his mind to a certain extent, for he frequently declared he saw the face of the woman whom he once loved,—the face of the woman whose memory had never left him during all the long bitter and sorrowful years. Holes in the Pocket Book Farmers, mind well that you keep no holes in your.pocket•book. If you do, be sure all 'tin will slip 'through and be lost.' Let us see how some men make holes in their pocket books : if you plough shallow, plant inferior seeds; and then suffer what comes up to run to grass or fall a prey to insects, you make a hole in your pocket bock. If you keep bad fences or bad gates, and your neighbor's stock break in upon your growing crops, and you then -worry or injure them with dogs, and by so doing turn a friend into an enemy, you make a sad rent in your pocket, book. If you spend your time, and money at elections or stores, drinking and carousing, when you ought to be at work, be assured there is a big hole way down deep in your pocketbook. If you leave your tools to be thrown about here and there, exposed to all sorts of weath er, be sure they will rot and rust and make holes in your pocket-book. Land undraioed and unmanured, stook poorly fed or neglected, orchards left to grow at will or be pruned by cattle, idleness, sloth, tobacco, whiskey, worthless ogs, fine clothes all these make sad boles in the pocket-books, the memory of which will not be ple a sant when the evening shadows come and you have done nothing for a rainy day. The Tragedy of Life• Life is a monstrous disappointment, and death the only portal to peace. There i 3 not a day passes in which virtue'does not sell it eels for bread, in whicill some poor, harrassed or frezied creature does not rush madly upon death, in which the good are not persecuted and the weak trampled upon. Tragedies as red as any history or fiction ever painted, are being played, and faces you admire mask with smiles an inward torture worse than the agony of the rack. Who has realized the ft}.lfilloaent of his early hopes? Whose life has not its mortification,, its bitter conceal meats, its studied evasions, poignant humili ations, its wild uneasiness, its wrestlings and defeat? But we do not represent life. We represent the fairest portions and the high est level of it. Beneath us is the great mass of liumanity, and they writhe andsioan and weep, they toil and starve and curse and fight and die. The world goes .rolling on as heedless of those who fall amhe gale in an. tumn is beedlese of the strips from the trees or the branches it wrenches away.— W. V. .Murray. 1. 7 1 1 say, Bill, Jim' of tea years penal Ger• vitt* for stealing orae. (Served bim rigbi ; wby didn't be buy one and pot pay fur r!, like aoy gentlemau A Hard Story. A Philade!phia paper saps: There is a octor in the north western pa rt if this con • 0 I w 1) - iir—eTfiiiicia or being, as the women term it s 'short and rusty.' 'You're a trump, Doe. Here, wife, I'll take a sip of old rye.' 'Lie still, you blockhead ! Mrs, 13., if your ,husband should get worse before I return, which will be in an hour, give him a dose of that trunk strap; maybe that will bring him to a sense of his folly. The doctor Sailed out grandly, and•within an hour sailed in again, and found his friend of the ‘fremenduous.delirtum' in a terrible condition, writhing and struggling with pain. His wile, a female of the kind but ignorant school, came up and laying her hand on the doctor'o - - - . ioctor's - arm,,sal 'Doctor, I gave him the strap, as you directed.' 'Did you thrash him well ?' 'Thrash him ?' exclaimed the astonished woman, 'no I cut the strap into hash and made him swallow it !' 'O, Lord, doctor,' roared the victim, swallowed the leather, but—but—' 'But what ?' - • 'I swallowed the whole strar darned if I could go the buckle . The do_oto_r administered two b_r_ea an - &evaporated An old English gentleman, a school teach ' er; who some years ago resided in one of the emall_towns in Ohio, was an agreeable teller of stories, but deemed it beneath his reputa tion as a yaconteur to tell one that did not siffass any that bad proceeded it. A farm er having come to the village remarked, in the presence of his friends, that he had been plowing all the week with tour horses, break ing up now ground, and dwelt upon it as be. ing a 'big thing.' 'Papaw 1' said the old Englishman, that's nothing. I have seen in England fifty yoke of oxen bitched to one plow I'. The remark et - Wined to occasion general surprise. 'And,' continued he, 'the funniest part of the whole thin.. was that while the plaow was on the top of one hill, the leading yoke of oxen was on the top of another hill, and the forty-nine between the plow and the leaders were suspended between the two hills! And there was another matter connected with it rather strange. In the course of the day the plowman, becoming rather careless about. driving the team, ran into and split a big oak stump I The plow passed safely through the spilt, bat before the plowman got entirely through it closed up and caught him by the coat-tail • 'Did it tear his coat ?' asked a person of inquiring turn. 'Not a bit of it I' replied our voracious nar- rater 'be hung on the plow-handles and pulled out the stump I' A country girl once went into the city to pay a visit to one of her old and best friends; this friend was married to a rich city mer chant, and a leader of fashion. In city etiquette, of course, the visitor was verdant, and made numerous mistakes. Her friend wished to initiate her into the `mysteries; and as they were going to a large ball, gave her the following instructions, viz: 'Eat only one small cake and one saucer of ice cream, and when your attendant presses you to take more, answer that you have masti cated a sufficiency, and more would be a superfluity' Things went on very smoothly until her attendant asked her to partake of more refreshments, when, to the horror of her friend, and amusement of the company, she answered, in a loud voice : leave evap orated insufficiently—any more would go flippity.floppity. MAKING THE BEST OP IT.—Alwaya make the best of what happens to you. A little self-control and right feeling will help you to this. To fret and scold over accidents and disappointments is wrong, and sure to make one miserable. The example of a child, as told in the following incident, is worth laying to heart : She was only three years old. To amuse a homesick cousin she brought out her choicest playthings. Among these was is tiny trunk, with bands of gilt paper tor straps—a very pretty toy—but Freddy bent the lid too tar baok, and broke it off: Be did not mean to do this, and when be saw what be had done, be was frightened and began to cry. Then dear little Minnie with her eyes full of tears, said: 'Never mind, Freddy just see what a ounningattle oradlo the top will make.'.. Wasn't that sweet and thoughtful ? A geoid story is told of the late H. de Bal zao. One night, while lying awake in bed, he saw a man enter his room cautiously, and attempt to pick the ]ock of hie writing desk. The rogue was not a little disooopoood at hearing a loud laugh from the 000ft,p, tit of the apartment,•whom he supposed*tecip.;-- 'Why do you laugh?' asked the thief. am laughing, my good fellow,' said X. de Balza° ' 'to think what pains you ara taking, and what risk you run, in hope of finding money night in a desk where the lawful owner tiatFlot find any by day.' • 'Mud, with the juioa equeszed out,' is whAt a little girl calls dust.. An exchange nays: A judge in Balti more went into the river to bathe the other morn n „ nud while he wassvriniruirii , about seine abandoned scoundrel stole all MS clothes sage din.. his hi h hat and an wri_hrella.=- 3 v — reniar We won't undertake to explain how mad the judge wag, because, although the English language is copious, its must efficient and vigorous adjectives are entirely unequal to the expressions of certain degrees of emotion. But ho stayed in the water about four hours experiinetaing with the different kinds of imprecations and endeavoring to seleet two or three of the sturdiest ohjurations for ap. plication to the thief At last he mime out, and alter mounting the high. hat, he open. ed the umbrella and tried to cover his retreat up the street toward his house. , It • appear. ed to the Judge that al/ the female pupils of Dorcas societies. and the VVOLFlati'fi rights eon. vention were out promenading that day, and the judge had an awful time going •through the Zouave drill with that umbrella. When he reached home he heard that the thief had been captured. The judge is now en• gaged in writing out his charge to the jury, in advanceof the trial. Those who have seen the rough drafts say it -is the most picturesque law paper ever sectiou of the country. 'A Strong Hint• A little boy, who bad been_lold that hol roust never ask. for any thing to eat away from home, went into a neighbor's - ito — uip, when the lady chanced to be frying dough nuts. 'Oh,' said he, 'you are cooking.' Aware that he had been well trained, and anxious to see whether his appetite would get the better of his manners, the -Ixtly - did not give him any of the doughnuts. 'Well,' said he, returning to the lobate, 'our cakes look nice.' - ''said the lady; 'they are but I'm 'On, very nice,' said I' the best I ever cooked.' After playing with the eat a few minutes, •be remarked : 'And they smell very niee.' 'Oh, yes, they smell very nice,' was the lady's tantalizing answer. 'Well,' said the boy, suppose if any little child was hungry and should come in here when you are cooking, you would give him something to eat. , WeII, yek I think I should.' iThen; said he after another turn with the oat, guess I must•go home, for lam very hungry.' It is needless to add that he got a dough nu, Some years ago, in the New Hampshire legislature, a new member, eothewhat noted tor. 'pumping thunder,' made a speech—it was upon a bill for taxing bank dividends— in which be attempted to be very 'pathetic in favor of widows who owned bank stock. 'Yes, Mr. Speaker,' he exclaimed, with in dignant energy,' the gentleman from Dover who introduced this bill, deaf to the cries of ber orphan ehildren, would strip the widow —' But before he could,,conelnde the sent once, ho was interrupted by a laugh. As tonished, he exclaimed with a profound feel ing : 'Gentlemen, it is not the subject of derison. I appeal to you in ail candor to say if it is not worse than stripping. Put on this tax and you will drive the "Widow to her last shift Shouts of laughter here petri fied him in his place, and he spoke no more during the session. A teacher one day endeavored to make pupil understand the nature and application of a passive verb, and said : 'A passive verb is expressive of the nature of receiving an action, as Peter is beaten.- - Now what did Peter do ?' The boy, pausing a moment, with the gravest countenance imaginable, replied : 'Well. I don't know, unless he punched the chap what hit him— that's what I'd have done. PRICELESS DIADIOND.—There is DO gen nor jewel nor richest pearl in all the uni verse, of such priceless value as the soul.— Suppose this world were a globe of gold, and each star in yonder firmament a jewel of the first order, and the moon a diamond, and the sun literally a crown of all created glory ) one soul in value would out-weigh them all.. As Pat Hogan, a_recently 'arrived emigrant, sat etjoyiog his equnubial bliss upon the banks of a Southern creek, he espied a turtle emerging from the stream. 'Och, honey r be exclaimed; 'that bier I should come to Ameriky to see a snuff box walk 11 An Tristan°, being a little fuddled was asked what was his religirius belief, 'ls ma belafe ye'd be asking about ? It's the Same as the Widdy Brady..--Lowe her twelve shillings for whiskey, and she Waves never pay her—andlaiib that's me beide too.' A little boy, five years old, was found by his mother smearing himself with dirt, and when asked by ber w he was , doiog, rep plied : you t ime God made woof dirt, and I'm fillitigo the holes he left. .• Our devil sap it is a good sign. to see the eolor of bealtfts in.a man's face, but not to bee it all coneentrated in bia nose. 'l'm a victim to an artificial state of aooie• ty,' se the monkey said when they put trea son on him. . Mrs. Partingtoe, bearing 4a.pedestiiae's 'great feat,' wondered if Oitly were krouPled with corns. • • 744 .1 `Virtat word is that io yow trice the first letter all will stil maial Ba3l Whepasa bultolity like Idea t Whim it "alights, on ttkitie QIN 4r.). - 02.00 I'O3Z" 72 owl* NUMBER 3 Laughable Adventure• raven up in that
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers