, . • .. - 114 0 c.- , l4.4Mirta • - A ,• . . • , • f , • 1, ‘4' .- • .1 A • - ,•• ••••••••+ 1 $ .. • 1111111 1 11111 6 1 .0 1 • , •0„ • _ • ••_ . • , • • ••• -- 4. . r• •, 3139 . NAT. VOLUME XXIII. g Wa g JUST THE THING RICO ALL MUST HAVE ........0- Now is the time to economize when monej is scarce. You should study your interest by supplying your wants at the first class store of C. K. BEAVER. North-east corner, of the Diamond. He does business on the only successful method, eta: by buying his goods for cash. The old fogy idea of buying , goods at high prices and on long credits is EXPLODED. Call end examine our fine stock and don't be RUINED 'by paying 20 per cent. too much for your goods else where. We will chalet - 4e the community to show forth a more complete stock of HATS, all of the very latest styles and to suit all, at ' C. N. BEAVER'S. BOOTS, all kinds and prices, at - C. N. BEAVER'S. SHOES, of every description for Men's, Ladies', isßas an ritairares - wca - r; at C. N. BEAVER'S. - CLO - CKS, every one warranted eau sold by C. N. BEAVER. TRUNKS.of all sizes. the very beet manufactre; also warranted and soli by , • C. N. BA EVER. — V - A - LlSESTolevery - kinil also very cheap. at C. N . BEAVETI HATS, for Ladies, Misses and,Children, a fresh supply received every week and sold - by C, N. BE AV - E - R NOTIONS, a full line as follows, sold by C. N. BE A VER. PAPER COLLARS, for Men and Boys wear, the most complete and finest assortment in town, by C. N, BEAVER. HOSIERY, of every kind, for sale, by C. N. BEAVER. GLOVES, for Men and Boys wear, as C. N. BEAVER'S. SUSPENDERS, for Men and Bova wear, ae C. N. BEA VER'S. - CANES AND. UMBRELLAS, a complete stock at C. N. BEA V ER'S. BROOM§ AND S BRUSIIES, of the very best kind, at C. N. BAE VER'S. TOBACCO, to suit the taste of all; at C. N. BEAVER'S. CIGARS, which cannot be beet, for sale. by C. N.BEA VER. SNUFF, which we chalenge any one to excel in quality, for sale at C. N. BEAVER'S. INK and PAPER, of every description, at C. N. BEAVER'S. CANDIES, always fresh leo, for sale, at C. N. BEAVER'S. SPICES, for sale at C. N. BEAVER'S. CRACKERS, of every kind, at C. N. BEAVER'S INDIGO BLUE, at C. N. BEAVER'S. CONCENTRATED LYE, for sale, at. U. N. BEAVER'S. KEROSENE, of the very beet,—Pitts. Od, at C. N. BEAVER'S. LAMP CHIMNIES also, at C. N. BEAVER'S.• Ana many other articles not neceesary;to mention. We now hope that you will give us a share of your patronage. We are indeed, thankful ta you for past 11 , tronage, and hope a continuance cf the MIMI", and remain yours truly. CLARENCE IV. BEATER. Waynesboro', Jane 2,187 P, The World Renowned MEDICINE Drs. D. Fahrney 81. Son's CELEBRATED PREPARATION CLEANSING, THE BLOOD. WILL CURE SCROFULA, CUTANEOUS DISEASES, ERY SIPELAS, BOILS, SORE EYES, SCALD HEAD, PIMPLES, and BLOTCHES ON THE FACE, TETTER AFFECTIONS, old and STUBBORN ULCERS, RHEU MATIC AFFECTIONS. DYSPEP SIA, COSTIVENESS, SICK HEADACHE, SALT RHEUM, J A UNDICE, GENERAL DE BILITY, CHILLS AND FEVER, FOUL. STOMACH, TOGETHER with ALL OTH ER DISEASES ARISING FROM IMPURE BLOOD AND DISORDERED - LIVER. TRY ONE BOTTLE OR PAACKAGE And be convinced that this Indians is no hug:thug Buld by all Druggists. CIALIETT'ICON. Drs. D. Fahrney & Son's Preparation for Cleans ing the Blood is COUNTERFEITED. The pen ult.° has the name "D. FA HItNEY & SON" on the front. of the outside wrapper of each bottle, and the name of Drs . D. t: shrug & Sou's Preparation for Cleansing the Blood, Boonshoro, Md., blown in each bottle. All others are COUNTERFEIT. Rec.; oiled that it is Drs. D. Foluney &.-Sou's Celebrated Preparation for Cleansing the Blood that is ao uni versally used,and so highly recommended; and do not allow the Druggist to induce you to take any thing else that they may tray is just the same or • as good, because they make a large praftt on PREPARED - BY f • Drs. I). VA 1 RNEI & .SON, • . BOONSBORO, MD., • • . And Dr. P. D. Fahrney,Kedysville, Md . 'Be sure to get the genuine,. 11Tene 'genuine ini me signed ,1). nl.lllllißir & SON. Sold by, Dr. .1. B.' Animism', Waynesboro' ; Dr. J. DIIIIVIOLDIR, F B Mien, Quincy; Fuson - . les Ssrreix, Shady Gime. • • ,iune .110- figicrli • .: , • .IPC).IEITXCI.ELIA. THE CARRIER'S AD Haas to the gay and gladsome sounds , Proclaiming joy throughout the earth! But, strangely mingling, other tones Would hush the merry voice of mirth. As peals the midnight hour of twelve, There comes a stranger al the door, To take the place of one:grown old, Who now departs forevermore. For him that on the threshold Mande These joyous notes and peals ascend, And say to every list'ning ear, • "Come, gladly greet the new-born friend." Al bile we the New YEAR hail with joy, Brought to us on the wings of time, There comes a sad and solemn sound, The knell of the dying year—SEVeNTY. To see his pale and wasted form— - Twelve months since so hale and strong To hear the winds his requiem sing. As plaintively they sweep along— Check tawny in their revelry, That he. struck down by Winter's blast, Now, "with the years beyond the tbod," Should be in the eternal past. Hut while the olden year we mourn, With favors and with blessings fraught, We'll cease to wish that he had lived, . And think about the good be brought. All through the land, from East to West, - E'en from the day when ushered in, Inspiring ope and quelling fear, His guardian angel, - Peacei hay been. To make the Nation still more fr'e, To heal the wounds of civil strife, To see our Country's flag unstained In her career of new-born light,— Her leaders brave and fearless stand Determined to maintain the Right, And; battling with the foes of Truth, Push onward in the glorious fight. And• thus the much goes bravely on, Until, from every mountain height, Throughout the Continent, does glow The flame of Freedom's beacon light. Who then shall say, that they, whose hones Now whiten many a Southern plain, Or moulder in their kindred Just, Have sacrificed their lives in vain. _ The cheerful hum of industry, As men the peaceful arts pureue, Proves, that at work, as on the field, A Freeman's to his Country true. The Earth the husbanman hoe blest And given more than •wonted With plenty crowding house and barn Brought from the richly-laden'd field. While sow, wi i th quiet life content, In unobtrusive teeksengage, Bold hearts, absorbed in grander schemes, Help work the wonders of the age. For prosperity in Seventy-me, Implore the years' and seasons' God, And nothing wrong or sinful do, To call for His avenging roJ. "Old Maids and Widders" we promised a visit— Just one year ago, so now we cannot Consistent y slight them I know; I wonder, and wonder, if they all have a beau? Bonie of them ho've and some of them have not, MI germ to do well as far as th• y've got. I'll lake a small walk as last year I did, Ant it by misfortune I pass by a Wid., I'll go very s'ow and tread very light, ' For fear that their corns are in a sad Wight; That is, tender I moan and sensitive too, For I know its their nature to not want a bean; But some how it seems, and its strange too, to say, No matter which way I look they're both smiling and day. Up and down street two fine ones I see, Flirting along Fut they ne'cr look at . roe; Now they stop at the window, and take a sly glance, At a Bachelor inside, (without a chance) Oh ! no its the dry goods so pretty and nice, Bounding in at the door they ask for the price. l'il bid them goon-bye—up Church street's my way. On each side I see them all festive and gay— On the first alley I halt to be on my guard,' For 'tie said the way of transgressors is hard. Oh wonder of wonders ! can it be so • Widders we find wherever we go, Two in one house—two in two others— Also, Maids without number inhabit the corners— Mixed up in this nest two Bachelors we've got, One lists to the song of widow Bedot. The other lives at his ease is jolty and clever,. But to marry a wilder I dare eay he'll never. Atid uom, bind friande, I hid adieu; May you another year enjoy For all desiring good, I am, Sincerely yours. ~•, ~~~-tom ~ A young woman io Chicago, who lost her speech by a severe °Old, had twenty offers rriage-in one week, . • •""'"- What is " —der am? Kissing your own wife= -4 T"' A °libber's wife E is an'illegal tender ATNESBORC&FRANKLIN CO k rt. ; • Ut ; I k EB5 THE GABBIER BOY. .44LrL XrLdleps;•ers clerat .1V" erwisiroars THE CHRISTMAS GIFT. heavily, heavily fell the snow.• covering the dark brown earth already hardened by the frost, with a pure white covering. As the rain falls' alike upon the just and the un just, eh too the snow, God's messenger, knows no distinction of persons, visiting all alike, and passing none. In one of the principal streets of New York stood a boy of some twelve years. Ilia clothing was poor, and too scanty to afford a sufficient protection against the inclemency of the setups. Through the visor of his cap, which had become detached in the middle, having a conneetion only at the two ettremi tier, might be seen his rich brown hair.-- Notwithstanding his coarse and ill.fitted at tire, it was evident that be possessed a more than ordinary share of boyish beauty. But just at present his brow is otercset with a shade of enziety, and his frame trembles with the cold, from which he is so insufficiently shielded. It is a handsome street, that in 'which he is' 'standing. On either he beholds the reel dences'et those on whom Fortune has show ered her lavers" Bright lights gleam from the parlor windows, and shout's of mirth and laughter ring out upon the night. All is joy and brightness and festivity with in those palace.homes. The snow-flakes fall idly against the window panes. They can• not chill the hearts within, not place a bar upon their enjoyment, for this is Christmas eve, long awaited, at length arrived Christ. was eve. around which so many youthful an ticipations cluster, has enjoyments peculiarly its own, over which the elements, however -boieteroue u have-no-control—Yet-ta-some,_ Christmas even brings more sorrow than en. joymenti serving only heighten the-con trast between present,poverty and discomfort -and-past-influence. Ilut.-all-this-tin3e-we-h a vo-lef tie-he ro shivering in the cold Cold and uncomfortable as he was, as well as anxious in mind, for he had lost his way, -and knew -not - how - to -- find - it - rgainTh - e - coltht, not help forgetting his situation for the time in witnessing the scene which met his eye, as for a moment he stood in front of a band• some residence on the south side of the street The curtains were drawn aside, so that by supporting himself on the railing he bad an unobstructed view of the scone with in. It was a spacious parlor, furnished in a style elegant but ostentatious. In the centre of the apartment was a Christmas tree, bril liant with tapers, which were gleaming from every branch and twig. Gifts of various kinds were hung upon the tree, atoned which were gathered a group of three children, ro• epectively of eight, six and four years. The eldest was a winsome fairy, with sparkling eyes and dancing feet. The others were•boys; who were making the most of this - rare op• portunity of sitting up after nine o'clock At a little distance stood Mr. Dinsmoor and his wife, gazing with unalloyed enjoyment at the happiness of their children. While Lissie was Indulging in expressions of delight at the superb wax doll which St. Nicholas bad so generously provided, her at tention was for a moment drawn to the win dew, through which she distinctly saw the figure of our hero, who, as we have said, had in his eagerness, raised himself upon the rail ing outside, in order to obtain abetter view. She uttered an exclamation of surprise. 'Why, mother, there's a boy looking in at the window. Just look at him. Mrs. Dinsmoor looked is the direction in dicated, and saw the little boy, without his perceiving that attention bad been drawn to ward him. 'Some poor boy,' she remarked to her hes. band, in a compassionate tone. 'who losses for a moment the sensation of his own discern. fort in witoeaiing our happiness. See how eagerly he looks at the tree, which no doubt appears like something marvellous to him.' 'Why can't you let him come in ?' asked Lizzie, eagerly. one ff.ust be very cold out there, with the snow flakes falling upon him. Perhaps he would like to see our tree near too.' 'Very• -•4 well and kindly thought of, my lit. tle girl,' said Mr. Diosmoor, placing his hand for a moment upon her chaste:log locks. will follow your suggestion, but I must do it carefully, or he may be frightened. and run away before he knows what are our inten. tioos.' - So speaking, Mr. Dinsrsoor moved cau tiously to the front door and opened it sud denly. The boy, startled by the sound, turn ed towards Mr. Dinamoor with a frightened air, as if fearing that he would be suspected of' some improper motive. 'lndeed sir,' said he, earnestly, 'I .didn't mean any harm, but it looked so bright and cheerful inside that I couldn't help looking is.' 'You have done nothing wren, my boy,' maid Mr. Dinemeor, kindly. 'But you must be cold here; come in, and you will have a chance to _ace moro comfortably than you now. do.' The boy looked a little doubtful, for to him, neglected as ho had been by the rich and prosperous all his life, it was very diffi cult to imagine that ho was actually invited to enter the imposing mantion before him as a guest. Perhaps Mr. Diusmoo ivined his doubts, for ho continued : (Come, you must not refuse the i tation. There are some little people inside w would be' very much disappointed if you should, since it was they who commissioned me to in. vite you' am sure, sir, I am very much obliged both to them . and to you,' said the boy, grate. fully, advancing towards Mr. Diusmoor, •in whom he•bad lost whatever little distrust.he at first felt. - • A moment aftdrwards and the. bay step; pad wain the spacious' parlor. To him, whoa" home offered no attractions and few comforts, the scene which spread before him might well seem a scene of eochantment. iLizzie,' : said Mr. Dinamoof:.emne forward and welcome your guest. I would introduce him to you, but unluckily I do notloow his name ' '3ly name is Willie—Willie Grant; was the boy's reply. _ 'Then, erur, eoo Willie Grant, this is Miss Lizzie Di who is, I not sure, glad to soe you, since it was at her reteset that 1 invited you to enter.' • Willie raised his eyes timidly, and bent them for a moment od the singularly beauti ful child, who had come forward and frankly placed her band in his. There is something irresistible in the witch ery of beauty, and Willie felt a warm glow crimsoning his cheeks, as, for a moment, for getful of everything else ho bent his eyes earnestly upon Lizzie. Then another feel. ing came over him, and with elook of shame at his scanty and ill-fitting garments, he drop ped her band, and involuntarily shrank back, as if seeking to screen them-from-sight. Perceiving the movement, and guessing its cause, Mr. Dinsmoor, with a view to dissipate these feelibgs, led •forward Harry and Char lie, the younger boys, and told them to make acquaintance with Willie. With land shouts of delight they displayed the various gifts which St. Nicholas had brought them, and challenged his admiration. Everything was new to Willie. Ilia child. hood had sot been smiled upon by fortune, and the costly toys which"the boys exhibited elicited quite as much admiration as they could desire. Occupied in this way, his constraint grad• ually wore off to such a degree that he as _sisted_Charlie_andliarry_in trying_their_new toys. Soon, however, the recollection that it wee - growing - late, and that - he - had - yet to find his way home, came to him, an& taking his old list, he said to - Mr . Dinsmoor, in an ew. -barrassed-manner : 'My mother will be expecting me home, and I aboald already have been there, but that I lost my way, and happened to look in -- a - tiretywi - iidOw, aid you were so kind as to let me come in—' 'Where does - your mother live, my little fellow ?' asked Mr. Dioamoor. 'On street' 'O, that is not far off. I will myself show you Am way, if you remain a few minutes longer.' Mr. Diesmoor rang the bell, and ordered a plate of cake and apples, atr he conjectured they would not be unacceptable to his little visitor. _ _ Meanwhile Lizzie crept to her mother's aide and whispered : 'Willie is poor, isn't he ?' 'Yes. What makes you ask 1' 'I thoeght he must be, because hit clothes look so thin and palohed. --Don't you think ho would like a Christmas present, mother ?' 'Yea, my darling.. Have you anything to give him ?' 11 - thought, mother, perhaps you would let me give him my hvo.dollar gold•ploce. I think that would' be better than playthings. May I give it ?' 'Yes, my child, if you are really willing.— But are you quite sure that you will not re gret it afterwards ?' ''Yes, mother,' and Lizzie ran lightly .to the little box where she kept her treasury sod brought it forth and placed it in willies hand. 'That is your Christmas present,' said she, gaily. Willie looked in surprise. 'Do you..mean it for me ?' ho asked, in a ball-bewildered tone. • 'Yes, if you like.' '1 thank you very mueb for your kind._ nese,' said willie, earnestly, 'and I will always remember it.' There was something in the boy's earnest tone which Lizzie felt was as ample recom pense for the little sacrifice she had made.— Mr. Dinsmoor fulfilled his promise, and walk ed with Willie as far as the street io which be lived, when, feeling sure that he could no longer mistake his way, he left him. Mr. Dinsmoor, whom we have introduced to our readers, was a prosperous merchant, and counted hie wealth by hundreds and thousands. Fortunately his dispoeition was liberal, and he made the poor sharers with him in the gifts which fortune had so liber• ally showered upon him. Notwithstanding the good use which he made of his wealth, be was fated to experi ence reverses—reaulting sot from hie own mismanagement, but from age e econ• tn ereial panic which all at one volved in *al ruin many whose fortunes were large and whose credit was long established. In a word Mr. Dinsmoor failed.' Eleven years bad rolled by since the Christ mas night on which our story opens Lizzie had not belied the promise of her girlhood, I but load developed into a, radiantly beauti ful girl. Already her band had been sought in marriage, but ns yet she bad seen no one on whom she could look with that affection without which marriage would be a mozk• cry. - Charlie and Harry, too. Eleven years had changed them not a little. The boys of four and six had become fine manly youths of fifteen and seventeen. The elitist had enter ed college., harry, however, who was by no means studious, had entered his father's eountiog•room. _ That was a sorrowful night on which 'Mr. Dinsmoor made known to his afflicted wife the bankruptcy which was inevitable. '.Still sadder, if possible, was the sale which it en forced of the house which they bad so,long -occupied; the furniture which bad become endeared to them by mediarrand association 'and the harsh interruption which loss of fortune put to all their reasurednehemes.. ' gely poor boy,' said Mts. Dinemoor,, sot rolfully, as she placed her hand circuiting ty On the brown, lecke of Charlie, the eldest of the two boys. 'lt will be I har interifiee fir you to leave the studies to which- you NG, JANUARY 6,1571. are so'n•noh attarihed, and' enter settirei • as you will pe obliged to do.' 'Ah, I had-not thought of that,' murmur. ed Charlie. 'lt will indeed be a , ramifies, but, mother, I would not care fur that jf yeti could only, be spared the trials to which you will be exposed from poverty.' 'Thank -you for your consideratiun my child; but do not fear that I shall not necion modate myself to it. It is-a heatiy trial, but we unlit try to think that it will ultimately eventuate in our good.' " At the auction of Mr. Dinstnoor,a house and furniture, the whole property, without exception, was knocked cif to a young man, who teemed apparently of twenty•two ro three years of age. lie was able to: scents it at a pries much beaea'b its value, for times wets bard and money scerdo, scrthat he had but few competitors. Mr: Disgmoor did not hear Lie name, and the pressure of sad thoughts prevented his making the qulry. Possession was to be given in one week. Meanwhile Mr. Dinsmoor sought out 'a small house in an obscure part of the town, which in point of elegance and convenience formed a complete oonttast to the one: he bad • for. merly occupied. Ile felt however, that it would be all his scanty salary as clerk (for he had eeeuted a situation in that capacity) would enable hum to afford. Lizzie looke.l with rueful face at the piano, as a dear friend, from whom she'must hence forth be separated, it being quite too costly a piece of furniture to be retained in their reduced circumstances. Iler proficiency in music, for which she had groat taste, made her regret it doubly, since she might with it _havq_added_te_the_reeources_of_the—family music lessons, -- On - the - fait - eaening in which — they were to remain in the old house, their sad thot's were broken by a riog at the bell. Cu o-t hoy -ao t-even—let —us—to—ey joy—the last evening in quiet?' said Mules, half petulantly, Immediately afterwards there entered a young nine, io whom Mr. Dinsinoor meg- Diced the purchaser of the house. •I nerd not bid yon welcome,' said be, smilipg faintly, 'since you have ,a better right here now than myself. Had I been told three months since that this would be, I would not have believed it, but we cannot always foresee. I shall Le prepared to leave to-morrow' shall be better satisfied if you will re- main,' said the young man, bowing. 'flow do you mean!' 'Simply that as this house and furniture are 001,i/tine to,do with as I like; 1 °boon to restore you the latter, and coffer you the use of the farmer, rent free, as long as you choose to occupy it.' 'Who then are you,' isked Mr. Dinsmoor, in:inereaaing surprise, 'who can be so kind to utter straegore with no claim upon you?' 'You are mistaken. You have a elaim upon me. Shall I tell you what it is T Eleven years ago to morrow, for to-marrow is Christ. was day, a poor boy who had known none of the luxuries and bat few of the coo:Aril of life, stood in this street. His mind wee- ill at ease, for he had lost his way. Bat as he walked on, he beheld a blase of light issuing from a window, from your window, and s. roused by curiosity he looked in. Around a Christmas tree, brilliant with light, a happy group were assembled. As he stood gazing in, ho heard the front door open, and a gentie• man came out and kindly Invited him to enter. He did so, and the words of kindness and the Christmas gift with which he depar ted have not left his, remembrance. Seven years passed, and the boy's fortune changed. An unolo, long supposed to be dead, found him, and when be actually died, felt him the heir of a large amount of wealth. Need I say that I am that boy, and my name is Willie Grant?' The reader's imagination can easily supply the rest. Provided with capital by big young friend, Mr. Dinemoor again embarked in business, and this time nothieg occurred to check his prosperity. Charlie did not leave college, nor did Lizzie lest herpiano. She gained a husband, however, and had no yea son to regret the train of events, which iirtued from her Christmas Gift. A MATHEMATICAL PsODI4Y•--At Or near Warreneburg, Johnson couety, Missouri resides a poor wido* woman-, who has a son, Reuben Field, a mere boy, untutored sod seemingly almost incapable of literary culture, who possesses most remarkable powers of mental calculation. -As evidences of this, among other evidences that might be cited, a gentleman of St. Louis, who heard of his possessing this faculty, sent him the follow lag -figures, viz: 145,145, 145,145, asking him, to square this number mentally, that ie, to. multiply the:member by itself, and send him the result, with the time taken to per. form it, scarcely believing, however, not, withstanding the extraordinary accounts re lated of him, that he would be capable of the task.. In this, however, he was mistaken, as were others to ''whom the propbsition had blgo•named. A letter has been received by tfilY! gentleman named from a highly respect able and reliable citizen of Warrensbur,g who stated that - in three minutes' time the boy Field mentally and accurately pronoun ced the result, 24067,113,159,163,117,071, u 25, or in written werdri, twonty-one eittU lions sixty-seven quintillions one' hundred and thirteen quadrillions one hundred and fifty-nine trillions one hundred and, sixty three billions, one • hundred seventeen mil. lions, seventy one thousand and twentyfive: —Dee Valley Echo-. _ , Old lady to's hat an—'llnt these hacks are deny .us. Yo ever hem who rides in them. " • • get ~ .the, tonallpoz. Coachee—'lto o CM* tp bs third of my coach; m ai, fo ' I'v bed"the bind wheel wacoinat-' , A ea it took ' beautiful. 6111.00 Xaceir :Tomei! Sainuni Sold. During the reoeut trip of P. T..Barouni to California, he , with a few other gentlemen, were scouting around the Country in" the Mariposa District, and• while quietly enjoy leg thuinselves a company' of backwoodsmen learning of his presence gathered around the party : to get a look at the 'great ahownuto.', Presently one numb up to Barnum. and. the, following dialogue ensued : 'YoUr name ie Barnum. I believer Baroum—'yes sir.' 'You used to keep a museum, didn't you 7', Barnum—'Yea air; I did ' 'Are you in the - same business now I" Barnum—'Well, no sir; but I am. still ae food of curiosities, &c., as 1 ever was." - ' You ate, eh ? I thought so, and L know: of a great curiosity up here a little way ausll I thought you might want to get it.' Barnum—'What is it, sir; and where tat it? I should like mneh to see it.' 'Yei, I 'epos.) you would, but I want to make a little myself on . the speculation. I have heard awfUl big stOries.abuut your .great ourioaitiee,' but 1 know of one which is still more wonderful than any of all you ever had .in your museum.' By this time curiosity had been excited in the minas of the hatenieg companions of Barnum, and he was by them trged to secure the curiosity—whatever it was ; Barnum—'Name your price and produce it at once.' Vendor—Follow me, then, and you shall see it (and then speaking in a very loud whisper near Barnum's ear, so all could bear) said : only an editor with money to laud!' 'He lives close by; come along and—' t hu oder - r - s h - oartedli - tro - a - nc - a mid the roars of lau:bter of time entire coo an while the tourists continued their. purvey through the forest. Munnura wyer — in Milwaukee, was defending a handsome youog woman, accused of stealing from a largo un occupied dwelling in the night time ;_ani_ thus he spoke in conclusion : 'Gentlemen of the jury, lam done. When I gaze with ea. raptured eyes on the matchless beauty of this peerless virgin, on whose resplendent charms suspicion never dared to breathe— when I behold her ral'a t io this glorious bloom of lustrous loveliness, which angelic sweetness might envy, but could not eclipse —before which the star of night grows pal*, and the diamonds of Brazil are dim—and then reflect open the utter madness and fol. -- 1y of supposing that so much beauty would expose itself to the terrors of an empty build ing in the tool, damp, dead of night, when isnot:nee like hers is hiding itself amid the snowy pillow of repose; -Gentlemen of the jury, my feelings are too overpowering for expression, and I throw her into your bands for protection against this foul charge which the outrages of a disappointed scoundrel has invented, to blast the fair name of this love. ly maiden, whose smiles shall be the reward of the verdict which I know you will give!' The' jury acquitte4 her without leaving their seats. SALT FOR SWUM—While all the ether domestic animals are supplied with salt, the hog is generally neglected. He requires, however, to be as constantly supplied as the ox, the horse, or the sheep, sad suffers as much for privation as either of the above named animals do. His food is almost in• variably - given to him in a fresh and unsea soned state, and to this feet we may doubt• less attribute many of the violent and fatal diseases to which ho is subject, and which stagger all remedies, however promptly and skillfully administered. If the food be not regularly seasoned, there should be a trough or box in every sty, in which salt may be de- Sosited regularly for the use of the'aiiimale. easoning the food judiciously would .be much the best way. As seasoning the food of the bog is mentioned above, let i 4 be eo.- deratood that salt only is here alludefttir, for if any person should try seasoning : with pep per ,they will make a great mistake; for as much pepper as will sulfide for a man's ner'will kill a hog. Tee GARDEN OF EDEN.— A traveler •in the East writes that the site of the Garden of Eden, is, according to tradition, foisted at the junction of the Euphrates and Tigress at an Arab village called Kornch. Scattered along the banks are about two hundred houses. made of reed and thatch, while on the extreme point, where the rivers meet,: a< shanty has been built for a telegraph era dorsi It is—says the Churchman—somewhat curious to think of telegraph dispatched; be ing acne to the Garden of Eden—and it ur moves a certain halo with which oar imak ination has surrounded the spot. Bat mod ern progress has penetrated those , countries of the East which have been ia decay sad they aro doubtless destined to audergo •, wonderful resurrection. A Massachusetts paper tells of a colored woman who had been lately eonveited _but was so unfortunate as to fly into a ,paasioa over the misdoioge of one of her neighbor's youngsters. Her mistress remarked upom the impropriety of such conduct in the miss of one about to join the church, and received. this frank response: 'sperienced 'ligion, an' I'se gm' , to line de Church, but Miss ses., dat.nigger bast.' - • A witness io a court speaking is a wiry harsh and loud voice, the lawyer on the other -side eaelaimed, Fellow, why do you bark ao furionaly7'. , Beeause; said the rind; think I sees thief. Alen ire like potatoes—they do ad know bow-aeon,they may be in hot eater. .ThIPAIITOIII siseeiates : Thaw who sr "111.' • . Nrhi !: 9
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers