. . . • 1 ..," . . • tr'"!]`-- • , . . . . .. , . . . .. . , ....... . . , • ' . . '• • -%,..i . . , - , , ~-';i', Y ;.. *';' ''!c•-• ''''t '' -•-- . .. . . ``k i k j •'' 1? - ' ''' ,!'-' rf . , :.;, 3 1., , f • . . ‘r.' ''' ' .... ' ' ' I:'''' f:' '.." ' A I 1:*: A l : * , :;:ilf r ',' ~.A1 14. ... , : ..! AI ' '''..; ..J ::::,;-:,- .4 ' 4 , : I s ' . . ' .' c;:: :: ' -' 2 1 • : i . 2 ,:, E .. 7„.,:,..,, 7 ' . t. 1 •0: ~. L . . t,„ , 5:77 .; .... ,:„.,,,q,,,,,,c.,, , ..,.....„. r•` 4. -.. , ''.7• C l'. ' Y'y • . I ' ! vu ' ' , . • ..., .: r”'tt'slitirrPr r . ' ;; . •1 . . i , '., • •:; • :. . I ,S .IB3r 'VV. Stair. OLUME XXIII. (OA JUST THE THING HU ALL MUST HAVE -.......0---.. NOW is the time to economize when money is scarce. You should study your interest by supplying your wants at the first class store of C. N. BEAVER, Nottlifeast corner of the Diamond. He does business do the only successful method, viz: by buying his goods for cash. The old fogy idea of buying goods at high prices and on Ingo credits is EXPLODED. Call and examine' our fine stock and don't be RUINED by paying 20 per cent. too much for year goods else. where. We will chalenge the community to slum :forth a more complete stock of MATS, all of the very latest stylesand to suit all f at C. N. BEAVER'S. BOOTS, all kinds and prices, at C. N. BEAVER'S. SHOES, of every description for Men's, Ladles',. Misses' and Children's wear, at . C. N. BEAVER'S. CLOCKS, every one warranted anu sold • by . C. N. BEAVER. TRUNKS.of all sizes, the very best manufacture, airanted-snad-so by at C. N.I3E AVER'ST— HATS, for flines, Misses and Children, a freak -aapply received every week and sold by 'U.N. BEAVER. NOTIONS, a full line as follows, sold by C.N.BEAVEB. PAPER COLLARS, for Men and Boys wear, Abe 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, ILC C. N. BEAVER'S. SUSPENDERS, for Men and Boys wear, at C. N. BEAVER'S. --C-ANES-AND-UMBRELLAS - ,n - complete stock at C. N. BEAVER'S. BROOMS AND BRUSHEs, of the limy best ?kind, atC. N. BAEVER'S. • TOB A CCO, - toinitrth4 - teste of all, at C. N. BEAVER'S. CIGARS, which cannot be beat, for sale.* by C. N.BEAVER. SNUFF, which we chalenge any one to excel in loamy, for sale at C. N. BEAVER'S. INK and PAPER,QI every-elescrirtion. at C. N. BE A VER'S. CANDIES, always fresh too, for sale, at U.N. BEAVER'S. t SPICES, for sato CRACKERS, of every kind, at C. N. BEAVER'S INDIGO BLUE, C. N. BEAVER'S , CONCENTR %TED LYE...for sale, at C. N. BEAVER'S KE RUSENE, of the •ery Lest,—Pitts Oil, at C. N. BEAVER'S. LAMP CHIMNIES C. N. BEAVER'S. And !Billy other articles not necessary to mention. We now hope that you will give us %share of your patronage. We are indeed, thankful to you for past ,patronage, and hope a cont;nuance of th• same, and temain•Youre truly, ChARENCE N. BEATER. Waynesboro', June 2, 1870. . D.-S.SIMITH Has a complete assortment of Ladies, Gentlemen's, misses' and Children's BOOTS, SHOES BD GIITERS. Call and sae goods and get prices. TEIONSON'S "GLOVE-FITTING COR SSTS, at SMITH'S. SCHOOL BOOKS 'and SCHOOL STATIONERY kinds at SMITH'S Town Hat' Store. HATS AND CAPS, A full stock now toady, coisisting of all the latest styles, at PAPER COLLARS, Ties, Suspender'', Moves, everythinp, in that line, at SMITH'S Town Hall Store. • nov 3. MILLINERY GOODS ! TO TUE LADIES! MC. L. HOLLINBER(TER has just re ceissil a full supply of new Millinery goods ladies are invited to call and examine her stook. nov 3—tf • ' The highest cash price will , be pieta for Cast boa Serape delivered at the woks of the fartf GEISER M. Cd. 110 il while hearts with rapture spring, The youth to beauty's lip may cling ; To-morroir, and that lip of bliss May sleep unconscious of his kiss. C. N. BAEVER. • SLEET h 8 A MEnrcrwE —The cry for rest has always been louder than the cry for food, not that it is - more important, but it ie often harder to get. The beet rest comes from a eound sleep. Of two men or women, other wise equal, the ose who sleeps the best will be the most moral, healthy, and efficient.— Sleep will do mach to cure irritability of temper,peeviehness, normainess It will re• store to vigor an overworked brain; it will build up and make strong a weary body ;,it will relieve the languor and prostration felt by consumptive ; it will cure the hypochon dria; it will cure headache; it will cure the heartache ; it will cure neuralgia, it will cure a broken spirit . it will cure sorrow. Indeed, we might make a long list of nervous mala dies that sleep will ours. The cure of sleep lesnoees reguiree•a clean, geed bed, sufficient exercise to produce weariness, pleasant occu pation, good air, and not too warm a room, freedom from too much care, a clean stomach, and a clear conscience, and avoidance of stimulants and narcotics. For these who are overworked, haggard, nervous, who pass sleepless nights, we command the adoption of such habits as shall secure sleep; otherwise life will be short, and what there is of it arid ly imperfect. C. N. BEAVER'S Br.usuitto —What is there more mysteri ous than a blush, that a single word or look, or thought should send the inimitable car• nation over the cheek, like the soft tints of a summer sunset? Strange is it also that the face only—and that the human face— is capable of blushing; that the hand or foot does not turn red from modesty or shame any more than does the glove or sock that covers them. It is the fice that bears the angel's impress; it is the face that is heaves. The blush of modesty that tinted' woman's face when first she awoke in Eden'. eunny land, still lingers with her pure daughters.— They caught it from'; be rose, for all the roses were first white; but when Eve plucked one of the buds, seeing her own face, more fair. er than flowers, blushed and iast its reflex es her velvet cheek. The face is the tab let of the soul, whereon it writes its action. There may be traeed ailKbe istelleoleal phe nomenon, with a confideoee amounting to a moral certainty. If innocence .and purity look outward from withittotone the less vice, intemperance, and debauchery mike their indelible impression upon it. idiocy, iage, cowardice, passion, all leave there traces deeper even than the 'virtues of modesty, truth, chastity and hope.• Even beauty its self will grow more beautiful from the pure thoughts that arise within it. SMITH'S. A young woman -at Jeffersonville, lod., while out walking with a young man who had bees loving her unwisely but too nu merously, met a minister, when she turned to the young man', pulled out a revolver and gave him his choice to marry her right there or be perforated, adding that if the minister refused to perform the ceremony, she would shoot him. The nuptialknot was. tied. No cards. Why. ----.........---------- to 4 Why is a grain sad io the eye like a schoolmaster', cane Because it burte the pupil. WAYNESHORO',•FRANKLIN GOUNTi, PENNSYLVANIA, mason MORNING, MARCH 2,1871. TO-NORRVW. To-morrow! mortal, boast not thou' Of time and tide tit" , not now; But th ink, in ,osis tee . ng day, • • • • hl3r-things-ruay-pass-s. To-day, the blooming sponse may press Her husband in a fond caress; I'o-morrow, and the hands that pressed May wildly strike a widowed breast. To-day, the gentl babe may drain The milk•stream fr m its mother's vein ;, To-morrow, Jike afr en rill, That bosom's current be still. To-day, thy merry heart may feast On herb and fruit, on hittil and beast ; To-morrow, spite of-all thy glee, The htngry worms may feast on thee. To-morrow! mortal, boast not thou Of time and tide that ore not now ; But think, in one revolving day, Thal e'en_thyself may pass away. S'ol 110. Are - we sowing seeds of kindness? They shall blosroul bright ere long. ratrordh—exwd-? SCOLLIM They shall ripen into wrong. Are we sowing seeds of honor ? They shall bring forth golden grain. Are ws soaring seeds of falsehood We shall reap bitter pain. Whatameer our sowing be, Reaping, we Ito fruits must see. We con never - be too careful What geode our hands shall sow ; Love froni love is sure to ripen, Hate from hate is sure to grow. - Seeds - of - good or - ill - ore - scatter - --- Heedlesaly along our way ; But a - glad-or-grievous-frtritag , Waits us at the harvest-day. Whatsoe'er-our-sowing - be Bolsi ing, we its fruits must see. 11,7, leg ILZ - law) n i g d i ll d 7- 01 111 klith IMC=MIZ .A.m. Ixictorm•3r3cleitst V'eAm.ll3r WONX7o3l:o6tri (3r. OUTWITTING THE INDIANS. It was just after the close of the Revolu tionary war and the settlement. of the pio. seers were seldom doiturbed by any Periods attack of the Indians; though of course there still existed• that strong hatred between the two races whieh will always continue as long as there is an uncivilised Indian upon the face of the globe. It. was not sate .to trust yourself with them unless you were ful ly armed and always ready to resist any at tack which their treaeherous nature might *f_the_y_theraght they hadad• of you. It was thus that things stood when Daniel Boone, the great and renowned tioneer bus ter of Kentucky, settled• down in active farm ing life. His larm or plantation was at a eon eiderable distance from any other, and he bad to be constantly on the alert, lest the wily savages should catch him 'asleep,' and thus overmatch him. One of the principle pro. dnotione of his plantation was tobacco, and though he raised large quantities be never used it himself. For the drying and storing of this tobaoeo he had erected a small buil ding of two stories or rather one story and a loft, which at this time, was fall of the stalks and unsalable remains of last year's crop. Within to remove this rubbish before stor ing the now stock, he resolved to commence early one Thursday morning and finish be. fore noon, so that he could employ his time more profitably in the afternoon. When he had eaten an early breakfast be took down his rifle and seeing that it was loided and primed- be-pat-it-behind-the-door,-ready—for instantuse. As the drying house wasbut a few_steps_from_the house, he did not deem it necessary_to_take_the_rifle_with_him_as_the_ Indians had not been seen in that locality for-a-considerable-length-of-timtraad,he-had no idea that the would make their appear.- - -'llaces--for-some-weekt,--Bitt=he made-agrea mistake and barely escaped being_taken_prie. oner in consequence of hie recklessness. It was about 10 o'clock, and having shear ed all the litter from the lower apartment, he had just commenced in the loft above when voices were heard below. He glanced thro' a crack in the flooring and saw four Indiana each armed with a grin, who were evidently looking for him, Beeping very quiet, he hoped that they would'nt look in the loft for him; but the hope was vain, as he well knew. The Indians were too cunning to go away - withTiat - examinieg - tbe wieole - huilding, and after they had satisfied themselves that he -was--not in the first room, they got on some barrels which stood in one corner, and looked up into the loft, which only extended about three quarters the length of the 'building.— One glance was sufficient; and they saw that Boone was there and not armed: So the one who appeared to be leader spoke in hie bro ken English. 'Big Warrior some down; you prisoner; mast come with Seneca brava, who have traveled many days to feteh.' Boone now saw ho* foolish he bad been to leave the rifle at his house, even if it was but a leer steps ; but he was a man who was equal to an emergency, and knowing it would be folly to resist, he tried to chink of some plan of escape. He knew there was no way of getting out of the snare except by using strategy—so not wishing to bare the Indians know that he was frightened at his situation, he coolly replied : 'Now see here, I know you are all great braves, and I hope you will let me finish my work first; I've only got to take out a few more of these sticks of tobacco and then I'm perfectly willieg to go with yew' • 'No,' answered.the Red Skin, 'we in big harryi come now, or me shoot,' and they levele3 their rifles at him. There was a look on their faces which told Boone that it he was going to do anything he must do it im mediately. While he had been parlying with them he had formed a plan of outwitting even the most sunning of the Seneca braves. As he talked he had continued to gather up fragments of leaves and stalks, as if to throw them out, and at the same time bad advanced to the edge of the loft, the more readily to speak to the Indians, who were in, a group just below him. ,Suddenly he leaped from the left with his arms fall of dried tobacco, and flinging it in their faces, he made for the house at the top of his speed, where he ar rived is perfect safety, as the pungent tobac co dust had filled the eyes and mouths of the Indians, rendering them perfectly harmless for some seconds. When they recovered they looked toward the house and saw Boone quietly standing at a window with a rifle in his hand ready to repel any assails. Re membering the stories which they had heard about him and his rifle, they wisely conch", ded to let him alone, and plunging into the wood which bordered the 'plantation, they left Boone unmolested. TIMBIRDE4.-Iti a few short weeks, or a mouth or two at most, we will have the dear little birds paying us , their annual visit, and just think of it, how maey wretches stand ready, with gnu in band, to weloome them to destruction / How barbarous i There is no one. thing of so much service to. the far mer and\ horticulturist RR the little birds. ror a number of years fruit has been the ex ception instead of the rule, owing to the destructiveness of tbo insects, which little birds, whet abundant, consume almost en— tirely, and yet tbere has been very little ef fort made to stay the hands of the destroy ers, and preserve these useful and pretty little songeters, that cheer us in the hours, of sadness sad make our hearts leap for joy by their melodious songs and twitterisgs. Who Ws all the nntbrellii that overybeiy loves ? Every man we meet haw" the umbrel la he imps, but we have never met the man wbo finds them. Answer wanted before the next fell of rain. Tang ladies had better be fast asleep than fast awake: Spanish Burial Customs The 0119t063 of burying the dead in tho gown and cowl of moake has greatly passed into disuse. The mortal relies are treated with growing contempt, as the superstitions of the people gradually lose their concrete character. The soul is the important mat ter which the church now looks to. So the cold clay is carried off to the cemetery with small eeremony. Even the coffins of the rich are jammed away into receptacles too small for them and, hastily plastered out of eight. Tie poor are carried off on trestles huddled—into-their—nameless-graves,—without following or blessing. Children are buried with some regard to the old Oriental customs. The coffin is of some gay and cheerful color, 'pink, or blue, and is carried open to the.grave by' four of the dead child's companions, a fifth walking behind with the ribbened cof fin-lid. I have often seen these touching little patties moving through 'the 'bustling streets, the peacefalittle face Weep under the open sky, decked wash the fading roses and withering lilies. In all well-to-do families the house of death is deserted immediately after the fun eral. The stricken ones retire to some other habitation, and there pass eight days in strict and inviolable seclusion. On the ninth day the great masses for the repose of the soul of the departed are said in the par ish church, and all the friends of the family are expected to be present. These masses are the most important and expensive inoi dent of the funeral. They cost from two hundred to one thousand dollars, according to-thestrength—and—fervor-of—the—orisoat employed. They are repeated several years on the anniversary of the disease, and afford a-most-sure-and—flourishing—revenne—to-the church. They are founded upon those feel- ings inseparabte — frem every human heart, • nit• and affection. Our dead friends 117 p raye - d — fer — as — t Irene - of others—, and-who-knows-but-that—they==may be in deadly need of prayers 1 To shorten their fiery penalise by one hour, who would not fast for a week ? Oa these anniversaries a black bordered advertisement appears—in the newspapers. headed 'by the sign of the' arose and the Repieseatia Pace announcing that on this day twelve months Don Febrile de Tel passed from earth garnished with the holy sacraments, that all the masses this day celebrated in such and suck churches will be applied to the benefit of' his spirit!. repose, and that all Christian friends are hereby requested to commend his soul this day unto God. These united efforts at sta ted times are regarded as very - efficacious. A luxury of grief, in those who can af ford it, consists in• shutting up a house where a death has taken place and never suf fering it to be opened again. I mice saw' a beautiful house and wide garden thus aban doned in one of the most fashionable streets of Madrid. I inquired about it and found it was formerly the residenee of the Duke of —.His wife had died there , many years before, and since that day not a door nor a window was opened. The garden gates were red and rough with rust. Grass grew tall and rank in the gravelled walks. A think lush undergrowth had overrun the flower 'beds and the lawns. The blinds were rotting over the darkened windows. Luxuriant vines clambered over all the mossy doors.— The stucco was peeling from the walls is great unwholesome blotches. Wild birds sang all day in the safe solitude. There was something impressive in this spot of mould airi silence, lying there ro green and implaca ble in the very heart of a great and noisy city. The duke lived in Paris, leadidg the rattling life of a man of the world. He nev er would sell or let that Madrid haulm. Per. haps in his heart also, that hattereld thorough. fare worn by the pattering boots of Mahille and the Bois, and the Quartier Breda, there was a green spot sacred to memory and silence where no foetball should ever light, where no living voice shenNi ever be heard, shut out from the world and its cares and pleasures, where through the gloom of dead days h e could catch a glimpse of a white hand, a flash of a dark eye, the rustle, of a trailing robe, and feel sweeping over him the old magic of love's young dream, softening his fancy to tender regret and his eyes to a hap• py mist. "Like that which kept the heart of Eden green Before the useful troublo of the rale; THE KIND CONDUOTON a pleasure to say oomothiug.to the credit of an individ• usl who belongs to that inuch-abused class of our community, horse ear conductors, whom people like to believe dishonest. On the morning of the Fourth, a little girl riding to Boston tendered to a oonduotor, for fare, a tingy.looking scrip, of the denomination of twenty-five cents. He took it, looked at it, said, 'Counterfeit!' and returned it to her. Evidently judging by her apperanee that it was all she bad, he added, 'Never wind, let it go tilt next time. But the girl was mortified by the aircum- Masco, and, her eyes brimming with tears, she turned her face away. A lady standing near remarked, 'Her Fourth of July is spoil ed.' The conductor heard her, and hesitating bet a moment, said to the girl, 'Let's see that money again.' She handed it to him, and then be took from big pocket the brightest; ewest twenty. five cent scrip be could fled, and gave it to excliaage. When he saw ber cone. tenance expressing the thanks abe could cot utter, we have no doubt that she -felt amply rewarded, and we will wager quite so amount that his wearisome labors that day were very mush lightened by his little act of kik'. ness. There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.' •They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They.are the me►sengers of over• wheltniog grief, 'or deep contrition, and of nospeakable love. A Gentle Hint Old'Deacon Hopkins was a worthy. Bold and generally respected for his outward show of piety and religions teal; and I have no doubt that he felt at heart most that he pio f eased. But the Deacon had his wealtechs. In a certain direction ho was troubled with a morbid desire. Itis chief employment was the making of soap from ashes which he gathered in the neighborhood, and in making his soap he was obliged to keep two or three kettles of lye boiling to which end an abun• dance of fuel was ascot sary. Now it so happened that the Deacon's neighbor was Captain Jack Payson, whose Balling kept him upon salt water the great er part of the time. Captain. Jack was a great hand to keep hie family supplied with well seasoned wood, and as ho owned no• ex tensive forest lot, he often had a vast pile of it cut and hauled to his house, and' there worked up and stacked. It furthermore chanced that the rear door of the good , Dea con's soap house opened directly upon the rear of Capton Jack's huge wood pile. The temptation was strong. Surely, there could be no harm in taking a few of the scattering slieks ; the Captain would never miss them. But the disease grew upon the oecossity. of feeding the fires, and be fancied, kind , old soul ! that the Captain would never miss the abstracted fuel. But be was destined to rath• er an unlooked for and unpleasant enlighten ment, as we shall soon see. The queition was up before the church of introducing instrumental musie into the - choir:Ose - of - the - singerr - had - a - bare — viol; which he was willing to play if the broth. ern would permit, and both .he aid the cher -is ter - declared - thatit - would - h elp - thcrtringing„ - wonderfully. But this was before the days when fiddles were tolerated in sacred places, and several of the brothers objected. Den- - eon eop ins was en usias ic an( er in - his oppeition. At -a -fall meeting of the church he expressed himself decidedly. Captain Jaek, who chanced to be on share, was present, and' favored the introduction of the viol. 'Bring it in,' cried the Deacon, 'and 1 will go out( 1 won't be seen where that big fid dle is tolerated.' 'Will you stick to that pledge, Deaeon I' asked the Captain. 'Yes, Star replied the irate functionary. ___ l _Then,!--said—Captain—ETack, with a curious twinkle of the eye, 'you shan't be troubled with the fiddle in the church. I will buy it and bang it •pen my wood pile!' The poor Deacon shrank away behind his, enormous shirt collar, while the friends of the big fiddle darried their point. 'GO' AND 'Copse.'—lf you want business done,' says the proverb, 'go' and *IL, if you don't want it done, send some one else' An indolent gentleman had a freehold estate, producing about fire hundred a year. Be• coming involved in debt, ho sold half the e. state, and let the remainder to an industrious farmer for twenty years. About the end of the term the farmer called to pay the tent, and asked the owner if he would sell kis farm 'Will you buy it ?' mated the owner, sur prised. 'Yes, provided we can agree about the price.' 'That is exceedingly strange,' observed the gentleman ; 'pray tell me how it happens that while I could not live upon twice as much laud, for which I paid so rent, you are regularly paying me two hundred a year, and are able in a few years to purchase it ?' 'The reason is plain,' was the reply ;!you sat still and said go! I got up alai said come. Yost laid in , bed and enjoyed your e state; I rose in the morning and minded my businoes.'— Self Help. THE GENTLEMAN.—It ig no very uncom mon thing in the world to meet with men of probity ; there are, likewise, a west many men of honor to be found. Men of courage, men of sense, and men of letters are, fre quent, but a tree gentleman is what one sel dom sees. 110 is properly a compound of the various good qualities that embattle" mankind. As the great poet animates ell - the different parts of learning by the farce of his genius, and irradiates all the compass of his knowledge by the luster and brightnea■ of his imagination, so ell the great and solid per factions . of life appear in the finished gentle. man; everything he say, or does is aceem pealed with :a manner, or rather a charm, that elicits the admiration and good-will of every beholder. BRWARE OF TUE FIRST GLASS.-A few years since, one of the business men of East Boston, the head of a respectable family, took to the use of ardent spirits—at first moderately, but soon descended to the con• dition of a . miserable drunkard. His family were enable to live with him, his partner in business dissolved with him, and finally be seek so low that the colored woman what washed for hie family in his days of prosperi• ty, took pity on him and gave him food and shelter. A few days since he was removed to the care of Dr. Collis, and is now lying in the last stages of oonsumptioo, brought on by intemperance. It is the first cup that snares, it' s the last that destroys. An old nettler objects to a, proposed rail- road in his region in these words :4The pea pie is gone wild on this here railroad quesh. tine. Homes that is now wntb forty Oilers, won't be truth five dollars a bed: Wagin makers will'atarvo to death. Oats won't be wnth nothin,' and we'll hat to quit raisin on'em. Coon skins won't be mouth a ones, and the bellerin' steam wagins'll skeer all the game out of the country. sell off and git for Arkansaw it they 'don't stop this here railroad' A holm may .go blind, bat its thiYur should not. 80.00 1 3 cor , "E oar Too Poor. Brother Moore, of the Rural Kew Yorker; was sitting in his office some years ago. when. a farmer friend came in and 1 , 1 i d —Trienct , . Moore I likeyour paper s but tiwea are se hard I cannot pay tor-it.' 'la that so. friend Jones Z• I'm very /tor. ry to bear that you are ackopoor; and if you. are eo bard run I will give )ou my paper.' 'Oh, no ! I can't take it as a gilt.' 'Well, Wen let us see how we can fit it.. You raise chickens I believe.' 'Yes; a few, but they duet bring auj Wog; befdly.' `Don't they,? Neither does my paper cost anything hardly. Now I have d proposition, to make to you ; I will continue your paper- and when yen go ht Cue you may select from your lot one hen and cull her wino.. Take good ears of her, and. bring ine the proceeds, whether ie sags chickens, and we - will sail it square.' 'All right Brother Moore,' and the old feh. low chuckled at what he thought Wdß a cap ital bargain, • - He kept the eastreot strictly, and at the end of the year found that be Lad raid a. bout four prices for his paper. lie often. tells the j.oke en h'itiself and fags he never had the lace to say he was too peer to taka• a paper 'since that day. A SHORT "LEADER" North. was ouce asked by the editor of a paper with which ho wee coot:meted, to write a leading article opposiog the tetupereoce onovitoteut which was then waking a greet siir itl the - e,ity - oftNew — Y.Tifk - . --- 'W rile we a good ode, and I will give yea tweety to it,' said-the-edrtat- - dio — you -- ;wisiir et] uirecr 'Aa short as you eno make it," was the ro. Pl9._ `ort at own lime the following : 'We would rather IMO ibe wloolu w6rld drunk of their own accord than oue man so ber en compulsion' The twenty dollars were immediately hand ed over, and the paragraph published as a loader. ADAM'S ALE.— The limpid stream, the tiny Pptieg, the gurgling brook, and the mighty river, all proolains that this is the only„-drink:—ever—intentled—for man. The shipwrecked seaman, the weary traveler on the sandy desert, and the poor dying soldier of the battle field, all cry water ! water! The rink man in the scriptures offeted all of his possessions for jest one drop Man dies without it and yet for ail this we are daily destroying its purity by mixing with it vil• lainous compounds, not being satisfied with father Adam's good and wholesome drink, How strange and incomprehensible is bums° nature. 'lf you do not ales. that window, waiter I shall die from the draught,' said a lady at dinner. 'And if you do close it, I shall die from the heat in this hot weather r e=olaim• ed a atouter fair lady. Then there was a giggle among the diners at the dilemma of the waiter, when a literary gentleman present said, .bly good fellow, your duty is clear; close the window and kill one lady, and open it again and kill the tither lady.' A muddy stream flawing into one 'leer and sparkling, ter time rolls along by its. self. A little further down they unite and the whole is impure. §o youth, untouched by site, may for a short time keep its purity in foul oowpsny, but a little later and they mingle. 'Jim, I believe Sambo has get no truth in hien.' 'You don't know, dere am more mutt in that nigar data all the rest on the planta. tion.' 'Bow do you make dat out ?' Why, be neber lets any out.' Mark Twain says : 'I hat* seen slower pee• pie than I am—and more deliberate people than I tum = and oven quieter, and more list. less, and lazier people than I am. Bat they were dead.' 'Boy did you take an armful of my shin gles on Sunday?" Why, sir mother want ed some kiodliog wood and I didn't witot to split wood on a Sunday,' A novo after gazing at the•Chioese exclaim ed, l lf do whits folks is as dark us dat out der• , I wonder what's the color ob de niggers. Josh Billings says: 'When a foller gits a goin down bill, it dna seem ea tho' every. thing had been greased for the kasha's.' If four men build a stone wall in nine dart, bow loog will it take five men to build a like wall in eiz days ?' When is Bridket,kike the kitchen fire ? When Pho's gone evil and likewise when, ehe fines up. A goat is as good as a milker, but sue. (made better as a butter. Why is the letter Y like a prodigal'' Beeause it makes pa pay! When is watetk,tilbt fat Whet I. dripping. What color is a bucket ? A rather pal& (pail) color. Promisee made in the time of affliction re. quire a better memory than people 0.111 1 / 1 01 - • ly rams. A lawyer,in Indiana recently threw ait ink atand at a preeiding judge, and wae MI to jail fir 111 o mth a. oooDevil' hasari!ke:fishing—pc;im hi. • . . NIIII3EII V. itttely, and wrote
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers