ll•btp.tub..tnt Vtunsilrattia afoarnal gl,tbot6 to Volitio, Yittraturt, p . ritalturt, Ras, lijo pg,, 'fora! afntitlignut,
Z".. I_,_ BAKER, Editor and Proprietor_
VOL. NINE.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY •
AT ONE DOLLAR A Y
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ter County, Pennsylvania.
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Jon PRINTING of every description neatly
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suit the times. '
TEE On PRINTER.
A Fancy Sketch, but too near the Truth to
make fun of.
I see him at his case,
With his anxious, cheerless face,
Worn and brown;
And the types' unceasing click,
As they drop within his stick,
Seems of life's old clock the tick,
Running down
I've known him many a year,
That old typo, beht and queer
Boy and man
Tune was when step elate
Distinguished his gait,
And his Sorm was tall and straight,
We now scan.
I've marked him, Bay by day,
As he passed along the way
To his toil;
He's labored might and main,
A living slant to gain,
And some interest small attain
In the soil.
And hope was bright at first, '
And the golden cheat he nursed,
Till he found
That hope was but a glare
In a cold and frosty air,
And the promise pictured fair,
Barren ground.
Ile ne'er was reckoned bad,
But I've seen him smile right glad
At "leaded" woes ;
While a dark and lowering frown
Would spread his features round,
Where virtue's praise did sound,
If 'twere "close."
Long years he's labored on,
And the rosy hues are gone
From his sky ;
For others are his hours,
For others are his powers—
Ills days, uncheered by flowers,
Flitting by.
You may see him, night by night,
the lamp's dull, dreamy light,
Standing there ;
With cobweb curtains spread
In festoons oe'r his bead,
That sooty showers shed
In his hair,
And when the waning moon
Proclaims of night the noon,
If you roam,
You may see him, weak, and frail,
In motio,, like the snail,
Wending home.
Ins form by years is bent,
To his hair a tinge is lent
Sadly gray ;
And his teeth have long decayed,-
And his eyes, their trust betrayed—
Great havoc time has made
With his clay!
..But soon Will come the day
When his Jima, will page away
From our view.
And the spot shall know no more
The sorrows that he bore,
Or the disappointments sore
That he knew.
MY MOTHER,
Ali ! well do I remember me,
In childhood's happy days,
Of a meek-eyed. gentle 'mother,
Who taught my lips to praise ;
Who told me tales of years gone by,
And sung me oft to rest,
In plaintive strains of melody,
When pillowq on her broast.
Ali I well do I remember me,
When riper years had come,
Of that mother's tender counsels
b my own early home
And when 1 left, thro' love of change,
•The scenes of joyous youth,
It was her voice that whisper'd low
The words of love end truth.
Ah ! well do I remember me,
When thr - O , the lapse of years
I hanieward turn'd my weary steps
Thro' guilt, and wo, and tears; [eye,
'Twits the same sweet tone and melting
To me a welcome gave. * *
Those sparkling-eyes, those weleonie tones
Are now but of the grave.
-`'''.; • --...::.. ..., '.... + •
A
.•
A tit :.,.......rittlx-..ct-It+
■
TEE .STOIAN DRESS; g Tale of Truth,
In a city, which shall be nameless,
there lived, long .ago, a young girl the
only daughter of a widow. She came
from the country, and was as ignbrant
of the dangers of the city as the squir
rils of her native fields. She had glossy
black hair, gentle-beaming eyes, and
"lips like wet coral." Of course, she
knew that she was beautiful ; for when
she was a child, strangers often stopped
as she passed, and exclaimed, "How
handsome she is I 9 And as she grew
older, the young men gazed upon her
with admiration. She was poor,'and re
moved to the city to earn her living by
covering umbrellas. She was just at
that susceptible age, when youth is pass
ing into womanhood ; when the soul be
gins to be pervaded with that restless
principle, which impels poor humans to
seek perfection in union.
At the hotel opposite, Lord Henry
Stuart, an English nobleman, had at
that time taken lodgings. His visit to
this country is doubtless recollected by
many, for it made a great sensation at
the time. He was a peer of the realm,
descended from the royal line, and was,
moreover, a strikingly handsome man,
of right princely carriage. He was sub
sequently a member of the British Par
liament, and is now dead.
As this distinguished stranger passed
k, and from his hotel; he encountered
We umbrella-girl, and was impressed by
her uncommon beauty. He easily traced
her to the opposite store, where he soon
after went to purchase an umbrella.—
This was followed up 'by presents of
flowers, chats by the way -side, and in
vitations to walk or ride; all of which
were gratefully accepted by the unsus
pecting rustic. He was, playing a game
for temporary excitement ; she with a
head full of romance, wad a heart melt
ing under the influence of love, was un
conciouily endangering the happiness of
her whole life.
Lord Henry invited her to visit the
public gardens, on the 4th of July. In
the simplicity of her heart, she believed
all his flattering professions, and consid
ered herself his bride elect ; she there
fore accepted his invitations with inno
cent frankness. But she bad no dress
dt to appear on such a public occasion,
with a gentleman of high rank—whom
she verily supposed to be her destined
husband. While these thoughts involv
ed in her mind, her eye was unfortunate
ly attracted by a beautiful piece of silk
belonging to her employer. Ah, could
she not take it without being seen, pay
for it secretly when she had earned mo
ney enough ? The temptation con
quered her in a moment of weakness.—
She concealed the silk and conveyed it
to her lodgings. It was the first thing
she had ever stolen, and her remorse
was painful. She would have carried it
back, but she dreaded a discovery. She
was not sure that her repentance would
be met in a spirit of forgiveness.
On the eventful 4th of July, she came
out in her new dress. Lord Henry com
plimented her on her elegant appear
ance, but she was not happy. On their
way to the gardens, he talked to her in
a manner she did not comprehend.—
Perceiving this, he spoke more explicit
ly. The guileless young creature stop
ped, looked into his face with mournful
reproach, and burst into - tears. The-no
bleman took her hand kindly and said,
"My dear, are you an innocent girl ?"
"I am, I am," cried site with,convulsive
sobs. "Oh, what have I ever done or
said, that you should ask me that?"—
Her words stirred the deep fountains of
his better nature. "If you are inno
cent," said he, "God forbid that I should
make you otherwise. But you accepted
my invitations and presents so readily,
that I supposed you understood me."—
"What could I understand," said she,
-'except that you, intended to make me
your wife;?" Though reared among the
proudest distinctions of rank, he felt no
inclination to smile. He blushed' and
was silent. The heartless convention
alities of life stood rebuked in the pres
ence of affectionate simplicity. He
conveyed her to her bumble home, and
bade her farewell, with a thankful con
sciousness that he had done no irretrie
vable injury to her future prospects.—
The reMembrance of her to him would
soon be as the recollection of last year's
butterflies. With her the wound was
deeper. In her solitary chamber she
wept, in bitterness of heart, over her
ruined air castles. And that dress which
she had stolen to make- an appearance
befitting his bride I Oh, what if she
should he discovered 1 Would not the
heart of her poor widowed mother break,
if she should ever 'know that her child
MARIETTA, PA., SATURDAY, JANUARY 17; 1863.
was a thief? Alas, her wretched fore
bodings were too true. The silk was
traced to her—she was arrested on her
way to the store, and dragged to,pyison.
There she iefesed all nourishment, and
wept incessantly.
On the fourth day the keeper.thlled
upon Isaac T. Hopper, and informed
him that there was a young girl in pris
on who appeared to be utterly friend
less, and determined to die by starva
tion. The kind-hearted gentleman im
mediately went to her assistance. He
found her lying on the floor• of •her cell,
with her face buried in her hands, sob
bing as if -her heart would break. He
tried to comfort her, but he could ob.
tain no answer.
"Leave us alone," said he to the keep
er. "Perhaps she will speak to me if
there is none to hear." ' When they
were alone together, he put back the
hair from her temples; laid his hand
kindly on her beautiful head, and said
in soothing tones, "My child, consider
me as thy father. Teltme all thou hest,
done. If thou hest taken this silk, let
me know all about it. I will do for thee
as I would do for a daughter, and I
doubt not that I can help thee out of
this difficulty.
After a long time spent in affection
ate entreaty. she leaned her young head
on his friendly shoulder, and sobbed
out, "Oh, I wish I was dead—what will
my poor mother say, when she knows of
my disgrace ?"
"Perhaps'we can manage that she,
never shall know it," replied he ; and,
allUring her by this hope, he gradually
obtained from her the whole story of her
acquaintance with the nobleman. He
bade her be comforted, and take nour
ishment; for he would see'that the silk
was paid for, and the prosecution-with
drawn. He went immediately to her
employer, and told him the story.
"This is her first offence," said he,
"the girl is young, and the only child of
a poor widow. Give her a chance to
retrieve this one false step, and she May
be restored to society, a useful and hon
ored woman—l will see that thou art
paid for the silk." The man readily
agreed to withdraw the prosecution, and
said he would have dealt otherwise with
the girl, had be knoWn all the circum
stances. "Thou shouldst have inquired
into the merits of the ease, my friend,"
replied Isaac. "By this kind of tho't
lessness, many a young creature is driv
en into the downward path, who might
easily have been saved."
The good old man then went to the
hotel, , ,and inquired for Henry Stuart,—
The servant said his lordship bad not
yet risen. "Tell him my business is of
importance,"-said Friend Hopper. The
servant goon returned and conducted
him to the chamber. The nobleman ap
peared surprised that a plain old Qua
ker should thus intrude upon his luxuri
ous privacy ; but when he heard his er
rand, he blushed deeply, and frankly ad
mitted the truth of the girl's statement.
His benevolent visitor took the oppor
tunity : to: "bear a testimony," as the
Friends say, against the sin and selfish.
ness of profligacy. He did it in such a
kind and fatherly manner, that the young
man's heart was touched. He ex
wised himself, by saying that he would
not have tampered with'the girl, if le
had known her to be virtuous, "I have
done many wrong things," said lie, "but
thank God, no betrayal of confiding in
nocence rests on my conscience. I have
always esteemed it the basest act of
which man is capable." The imprison
ment of the poor girl, and the forlorn
situation in which she had been found
distressed him greatly. And when
Isaac represented that the silk had been
'stolen for his sake, that the girl had
'thereby lost profitable employment, and
was obliged to return to her distant
home, to avoid the danger of exposure,
he took out a fifty dollar note, and of
fered to pay her expenses. "Nay," said
Isaac, "thou art a very rich man; I see
in thy hand a large roll of such notes.—
She is the daughter of a poor widow,
and thou has been the means of doing
her - great injury. Give me another."
Lord Henry handed him another fifty
dollar note, and smiled as he'said, "You
understand your business well, But you
have acted nobly and I revere you for
it. If you ever visit England, come to
see me. I will'give you er cordial wel
come, and treat you like a nobleman." ,
" Farewell, friend," replied Isaac,
"thou much to blame in this affair, then
too hest behaved nobly. Mayest thou
be blesed in domestic life; and Wile no
more with the feelings of poor girls ;
not even with those whom others have
betrayed and deserted."
Luckily, the girl had sufficient Ares-
ence of mind to assume a. false name
when arrested; by which means her
name was kept out of the newspapers.
"I did this," said -she, "for-my poor-mo
ther's sake." With the money given by
Lord H - enryAhe silk was paid for, and
she was.sent.home to her mother,,, well
ifi t oi , lcred with clothing,. Her name and•
place of residence remain to this day a
agent in the breast of her benefactor.
;Several years after the incidents I
lave related, a lady called at Friend
hopper's house, and asked to see him.
When he entered the room, he found a
handsomely dressed young matron, with
a'blooming boy of five or six years old.
she rose to meet him, and her voice
d r hoked as she said, "Friend Hopper, do
you know me ?" He
- replied that HO did
not. She fixed her fearful eyes earnest
ly upon him, and said, "Yon once help
ed me, when in great distress." But the
good missionary
• of humanity had helped
too many in distress to be able to recol
lect her, without more precise informa
tion. With a tremulous voice, she
made her son go into• the next room for
a few minutes; then, drooping on her
knees, she hid:her face in hi s lap, and
sobbed out, "I am the girl that stole the
silk. Oh I where should I now be, if it
had not been for ydu ?"
When her emotion was somewhat
calmed, she told him: that she had mar
ried- a highly respectable man, a Senator,
of his native State. Having .a call to
visit the city, she had again and again
passed Friend Hopper's house,looking
wishfully at the windows to catch a
sight of him; but when she attempted
to enter, her courage failed.
"But I go away to-morrow," said she,
"and I could not leave the city without
seeing and thanking him who saved mo
rpm ruin." She recalled her little boy,
and, said to him, "look at - that, old gen
tleman, and remember him well; for he
was the - best friend your mother ever
had." With an earnest invitation that
he would visit her happy home, and a
fervent "God bless you," she bate her
benefactor farewell.
My venerable'friend is noVaware that
I have written this'story. I have not
published it from any wish to glorify
him, but to exert a genial influence on
the hearts of others ;' tot() my mite to
ward teaching society how to cast out
the Dernon Penalty, by the voice of the
Angel of Love.
'CURING MEATS.—An exchange, says
a , French chemist, has lately asserted
that scurvy will never arise from the
use of salt provisions, unless saltpetre
be used in curing - ; the salt alone_an
ewers all the purposes, provided the ani
mal heat be all out before salting:
He claime_thlt the insertion of pork in
pickle alorie is not* sufficient, but that it
should be rubbed thoroughly with dry
salt after it has entirely parted with its
animal heat, and - that then the fluid run
ning from the meat should be poured
off before packing the pork in the bar
rel: This should be done sufficiently
lose to admit no unnecessary quantity
of air, and some dry salt should occupy
the space between the pieces, and then
pickle, and not water should be added.
Great care must be taken to fill the bar
rel entirely full, so that no portion of
the meat , can at any point project,above
the surface of the fluid ; for, if this oc
curs, a change of flavor ensues such as
is known with rusty pork. The pick
le, of course, must be a saturated solu
tion of salt and water, that is, so strong
that it is incapable of dissolving more
salt. it must be remembered that bold
water is capable lof dissolving more salt
than hot water.'
Ur The following- X R tation is ad
dressed 2 N E I—Cold Winter is at
Cr, V G tation has D K'd ; the beau
ties of the landscape have faded, & R th
now appears in sad It A. Old Boreas
comes'-whistling a mournful L E- , G
over,
the graves of the flowers, and *******
seems 2 glislo from a frosty firmament.
The freezing blast pierces like at- in 2
the 3- clad bosom of want, while T R's
of P T Y con G L D at their respect-
I V fountains. All U who R of E Z
circumstances, arid do not have M T
pockets, 0 2 X M N into the K N D
tion of those R ound 11, & for
ward with N R G 2 mitigB the distr S
SS of the nee D. U should not w 8 for
NYXPDN C of your . disposition
by the R liest opportuni T
2 B stow upon the poor, who are to be
found in every of the country.
go' Why is a young lady; just from a
boarding school like a buildiag com
mittee`? Becaus she is ready to -re
ceive-Rroposals
Established April 11, 1854_
Fattening of. Poultry,
In the hands, of many persons the
fattening of Poultry has, almost become
a science. They, know how to take a
lean turkey, for example, and so feed it
as to doable its weight in tv, few days,
and at the same time they render its
flesh savory and agreeable. These are
two modes of feeding poultry for fatten
ing ; namely, the natural and artificial
methods. The former is that most gen
erally pursued in England and America;
the latter is the French method. The.
natural mode consists in allowing the'
fowls a degree'ofliberty in the barn yard
and supplying as much nourishing, food
as may, satisfy their appetite. This
method is generally preferred in Ameri
ca, and many experienced poulterers
affirm that they can obtain as good.fowls
in this way as by any description of
forced feeding.
,The artificial method consists in forc
ing food at regular intervals down 'the
gullets of the fowls. This food consists
of a mixture of torn meal, milk and wa
ter; or, as in France; barley, which is
fed by, means, of filler and funnel, the
latter being made of tin with india-rnh
,ber ring, on the bottom to-.prevent injury .
to the throats of the birds; 'Some per
sons instead of using a filler, employ the
finger far staffing down the food, which
is prepared in a more solid form, and
consists 'of abash made of boiled pota
toes, corn meal, sweet niillr, and 'finally
chopped. suet. During the period of
artificial feAding, the the fowls are kept
in boxes, which are well littered and
placed in a moderately warm situation:
They are :usually fed three times.h day
and the period, of fattening -is from fif.
teen to twenty days.' In *applying, the
food with funnel, the fowl is seized by
the wings - near the sfioulder, the head is
held forward between the knees and
grasped by the left hand,;, the beak is
.opened, the funnel inserted, and the
proper quantity of the mixture poured
doWn.,. Two persons tan feed quite a
large number of fowls 'in' this manner
in a very short puled.
Some persons who make a business of
fattening poultry are exceedingly care
ful of the food which they apply, and
they kept their mixtures somewhat se
cret, ascribing a mysterious influence to
their particular modes. A mixture of
boiled Indian meal, mashed potatoes and
sweet milk, with a little finely chopped
suet, is as good food for turkeys as
can well be 'provided. Fowls 'should
always have access to gravel during the
period of fattening, as they swallow
small stones, these being found neces
sary to promote digestioi.
Snipe feeders of poultry assert they
can give the flesh of fowls any particu
lar flavor they desire by the kind of
food which they give them: This is
prObabli true, as the flesh of wild game
acquires flavor of the berries and arom
atic buds upon which the birds feed.
LouisTillo Jourualisms.
In the Charleston Convention Gen.
B. F. Butler voted for Jeff. Davis thirty
odd times for the Presidency. And
now Gen. 8.. is to be hung if Jeff can
catch - him. We are not surd that he
dosen't deserve it. a 0.,
Gen. Hindman, who, under the false
assumption of authority from a superior
officer, compelled an Arkansas bank to
give him a million of dollars; forbids
his troops to plunder on penalty of
death. The Scoundrel wants to do all
MM=
Infampl3rey Marshall were preserved
in a hogshead of whisky, and some tal
low were to tap the hogshead andlake
a drink, he would probably conclude that
the liquor had a- g ood deal - of - holy in't.
The. Richmond Despatch charges* a
Virginia politician With bleeding the
Confederate Treasury." Probably he
will try his hand at bleeding an Egypt
ian mummy.
.....
The U. S. man•of- war Sanctions is to
be launched at PrOtsmouth, N. EL, to
day. We hoim the Saucy Cass will have
a prosperous career. • •
Cotton, paper-mill rags, and dra.fted
soldiers, are, three things :that it iather
hard-to' find substitute's for.
Stonewall 'Jackson and Stuart didn't
make anything in thelilast raid; except
their escape. . .
Why isn't a milkman like Pharoah's
daughter? Because he finds not a little
profit in the water.
It is an important part of a good edu
cation to be able to bear , politely with
the want of it in others.
NO. 25. •
"When Site Will, • She Wi ; I ."
The London Lancet
truth of the following
one evening a. person came is 0,4;
and asked to see the editor. And
being introduced to our sanctum, h:;
placed' a 'bundle 'upon the table, from
which he preceeded to extract a very
fair and symmetrical lower extremity,
which had evidently belonged to a wo
man. "There," said he, "is there any
thing the matter with that leg ? 1).3
you ever see a handsomer ? , What
ought to be done with the man who cut
it off? OD having the mear iag of these
interrogatories put before us, we found
that it was the log of the wife of our
evening visitor. He had been accu
torned to admire the lady's leg and foot,
of the perfection of which she vas, it
appears, perfectly conscious.
A few'days before, he had excited. 1...2r
anger, and they had quarreled violent'; .
open which she left the house, deciali! :-
that she would be revenged; on him. ay.',
that he should never see the object of
his admiration again. The next thily;
he heard of her was that she was apa
tientin--Lhospital, and her leg ampu
tated. -She declared to the surgeon;
that she suffered intolerable pain in '1:
knee, and begged to have the Jima
moved—a, petition that the surgeor
complied with . , and thus Lecat,,n ,
instrument of her absurd and self-k :-
taring revenge up.p.t. her husband.
A Goon ONE.-. 1 physician was once
called upon to tolider his
. prefessio-i
aid to the wife of a recently marriril
Countryman, who by the ray ;vas little
versed it the technical terms which ar
nsedby
having felt
medical faculty. The Doc
tor felt the pulse and viewed the
tcingue of the patient, together with
sundry other. wise tricks, prepared a
plaster, which he ordered the husband,
to lay upon the chest of his better half . ,
proMising to call again on the following.
day, He'came, and after making - tho
usual inquiries respecting his charge,
asked, if the plaster had been applied
agreeably to his instructions.
"Sir," said the husband, with the ut
most gravity conceivable, "my wife. s• id
she had no chest, and thinking it would
answer just as well, I laid it cc h.e
trunk !
• About this time we might have betrn
seen making tracks down the road in a
roar of laughter.
oir A . gentleman was riding with .1
lady in.an open carriage, all of a ell -
mer's "day, and
. accidently—men's ern!-,
awkward things, are ever in-the way--
dropped an arm around her waist.
objection was made for a while, and 1'
arm gradually relieved the side of tha
carriage of the presure upon. Bat of
a sudden (wether from a-late recognition
of tho impropriety of the thing, or the
sight of another beau coming, never c. , a3
known) the lady started with volcar; •
energy, and with a flashing eyt
ed. Mr-,frown, I can support myself!
Capital was the instant reply, you are
just the gal I've teen locking for these
last five years---will you marry in::
40. Let every man avoid all serf
gambling as he would poison.. A
man or boy should not allow
even to toss up a half penny, for thi.
often the beginning of a bahit og game
ling, and this ruinous crime comes on
slow degrees.. Whilst a man mit".s his
work be is ,playing the best game, and
be is sure to win. A gambler novel .
:makes a good use of his money, evca if
he should win.
tar An old lady walked into the °Mice
of a Judge of Probate of Massaclinset
and asked, "are you the Judge of Repr
bate ?"
I am the Judge of Probate.
that is it I expect, quoth the old LI
you see my father died detestr,d, anri 1
left several infidel's, and I want to
their executioner.
Cr An Irishman just from the
was eating some old cheese, v. - hp't
found, to his dismay, that it cont.:,
living inhabitants. "Be jabers
he, "does your chaze in this eon%
have childer ?"
or A. poor soldier in a hospit::
Nashville Tenn., with both logs s,
away, had .a tradt given him by - in ese.
Pay, colportenr, upon the "Evil El'A.r .
of Modern Dancing." Doubtless he w
mind it.
-11 - There are two classes or dio
pointed lovers; those who are di3
pointed before marriage, and the unIL
py who are dins rpointed after it.
a