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|0urMl atjHTIlfODOir S^mmrati. NASU & WUITTAKER, 'EXOELSIOR." C4ll(ara and Proprletora. OLD SERIES, VOL, 28. HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1860. NEW SERIES, VOL. 1, NO. 47. TERMS: Ter annum in advance, $S1,50 " " if not paid in adranoe, Q'OO No paper discontinued until all arrearages »re paid. A failuro to notify a discontinuance at the •spiration of the term subscribed for will be •onsldered a new engagement. Terma of Advertiaing: 1 ina. 2 ins. 3 ins. fature he shoald oall me Mra. Haynes— little Mrs. Haynes, and ahould bo very an¬ gry if everybody in the house did not fol- thonpfat it very bad taate in me to grow at I suoh a rapid rata. He was afraid I'd grow out of uy engagement; be sbould haro to ' Dx lines or less, 1 aqnare, 1 S I aqnare. J 1. S " 4 " e " 12 lines. H tuo. (8 00 5 00 7 50 9 00 15 00 25 S'i 50 76 00 I 50 60 2 25 0 mo. $5 OO 8 00 10 00 14 00 40 00 50 1 00 2 00 3 00 12 IUO. $8 00 12 00 15 00 2.1 00 SO 00 J <>Mi,m^_ 25 OO 10 00 SO OC Professional and Buainess Cards not exceed¬ ing six Unes, one year, roua dollars. US' All bills for adverlisiug due after th Grat insertion, -ea low hia example. I must not ever have put a loaf of hot bread upon my head to any little beaux ainong the school boya now keep mo within bounds. We had been en-1 that my name was obanged ; but I must be ' gaged two years; I was twelve ydars old, ; prim aod proper like any niarried woman I and a hoad taller than I was at ton. He j who was faithful to her huaband. i was going to Kuropa to stay three or four ' "Would I agree to this?" he aaknd. ! years ; what would I be when he return- ! I glanced up froiu tho hem of my whito \ ed 1 Ho did not dare to think. Be be-! muslin apron, which I had been twisting i licved I would be as tull aa he was by that • about my fingers, to meet my mother's eye timo. Wouldn't IT ; fixed laughingly upon my faco. In a mo- ; "I hoped so," I answered, tartly, tbink- ment my lips wero olosed resolutely, while ' ing tbe while of the story of his engage- . hc seeing at onoe thc cause of my silence, monl. reached out of tho window and plucked a "Whew ! You are taking on airs of a i rose from a running vine that orept nearly fine young lady, alrendy, my littlo Phebe," j to tu6 ¦tt'fOD, viivvo. iio uiiBwercu, inugiiiug iieariiiy. *-Vou j "Little Mra. Haynes must wear tho rose." wouldn't give mo one of your brown curls j hc said. "It would never do. for hcr to toss today, if my heart shoald break for it; j her bead and throw his gifta earelcssly by. would you ?" "QUAKERS ARE OUT." At a Republican nieeting in Georgetown, Masa., tho following song, entitled "The <)ua- kers aro Out," written by John Q. Wbitticr, inu read: Not vainly wo wailed and counted the hour, The buds ofour hopo have burst out Into Ilowers, No room for misgiving—noloop-hulo of doubt— We've henrd from the Kcyatoue ! The Quakers aro out ! The plot has ex|)lodcd-wo've found out the triok; The bribe goes a begging; tho fuaion won't stick. When the Wide-Awake lanterns are ahining about The roguea stay at homo, and tho true men oomo ont! Tho good State haa broken the cords for her spun; Her oil apringa and water won't fuse into one ; The Dutchman has seaaoncd with Freedom hia krout; And slow, late but certain, the Quakera arc out! Qive the (lags to the wind! set the liilla nll n^nme Make way for thc mnn wilh the pnlriarch'a nnme! Away wilh misgivings—away with all doubt. For Lineoln gnca in whon tlic Quakera come out! All married women woro flowers which their husbands gavo tbem. Would I wear the roso?" I glanced abont the room again. My mother wns nowhere to bo seen, nnd so I said thnt I would wear it if ho wanted me (S LITTLE MRS. UAYNES."; It was an eventful era in my young life when my fnthor announced his intention of renting thelight, airy southern chamber of our old brown house to a young portrait painter, who was about becominga resident of our village, during a fow weeks of tbo summer. Never before had an event so stirring and exciting in its tendenoy broken over the monotony ofmyexistence. Never before had my childish imagination been furnished with so wide a field of action, or my liltle heart throbbed and palpitated with auch a strange mixturo of wonder and de¬ light. A portrait painter under onr own 1i>rown roof, within the walls of our own bome !—what ararc chance formy inquisi¬ tive eves to drw in a new fund of knowl- «dgc . What an object of envy I should be to my little mates, and how daintily would 1 mete out to them whnt I learned from day ti> day of tbe wondrous man of ths 7osdrc',u. ssi'^lcmc:!!! I had heard of portrait painters before, it ia true, but only as I had heard and road of fairies in my little story-books, or lis¬ tened to my father as he talked of kings and courtiers in the great world far off. Fpon parlorwalls, from iiiy earliestreinem- 'brance, bad hung portraila of uiy grnnd- fathers and gmndmothera, but I had no idea how their ftces came stamped upon tho dnrk canvas, or when or by whom their shadows had been fixed within tho henvy frames. Like the trees that waved by the door, and tho lilacs that blossomed every joar by the old gate, thnt had to me alwnys been so. But now my eyes were to rest upon tho face of one whose existence had been liko a myth,—a fable ! What a wonderful per- aonagc he would be ! What a durk visage he would boast, and what a monstrous, ^giantlike form! How entirely unlike overy porson that I had evor seen or known, would DC this portrait painter. Wbilc these speculations wero at their fteight in my busy brain, the hero mado hii appearance, scattering tbem mcroi- le«ly to the four winda. There waa noth¬ ing giant-like in the lithe, graceful figure thnt sprang from the village coach, or dark in tho pleasant, boyish face, shaded by soft masses of brown hair, and lit up a merry pair of blue ayes running over with mirth and miachief. His name, too, quite like the generality of names, had nothing won- 'derfnl or striking by which to characterize it He waa simply Frank Haynes, noth- (Dg more or lesa, and wheo, with a pleas¬ ant, easy grace he sought to win my child¬ ish favor, I shoald have been quite at home Iwd not the stunning knowledge of bis art overpowered me'. It was a strange freak for a child of t^n summers, but somehow it crept into my baby-brain that I must not lixe him, althongh the white, in spite of jnyself, a preference for bis opinions, wass and looKSr.grew up strong witbin me. If ke spoke to me when any one was ob¬ serving him, I was ailent and shrank away from him timidly, but when we were alooe I ftuitted andoiuruped like ayoung robin. I think he must have noticed tbu, and from it taken itito hia head tbc boyish idea f-iii«.--*v-mm, ««••*«, i-w»»»ii- bj^ester no longer, now that ha •hi cnrpd for him. For Iba No, I havo nono to spare." Not ono?" I No." Why?" " : I Cause—" Cause what ?" to. I "Because, she bas heard strange reports "And would I consent to bc called little of you, Frank," broke in my mother, mis- Mrs. Haynes?" chievously. "She hasn't aay idoa of letting "Yea, I would consent." . you rob hcr of her curls while she doubls "Then it wos all right. Ho would never your sincere allegiance to hcr. Sho is a look about for a wifo, nor I should nevor lady of spirit, you see." look about for a husbnnd. Wo wore Mr. "On my faith, sho is !" ho exclaimed and Mrs. Haynes. Did that auit liini ?" gaily, fixing bis blue eyes on my fnco. "Oh, yes, that suited me ! I liked that!'' , "And I trow I'm in love with her face for "Well, then, ho should havo to buy nie it. Nover mind reports my littlo lady." a littlo gum iiug iu Wear UpuU my third I auswcied unly by n curi uf uiy lips, finger, to let the folks know that somo one while he reached out bis band to draw me owned mo." . to a seat upon bis knee. "No, I didn't want a ring !" "No, I won't sit there!" I cried, pushing "Tut, tut, tut! That would never do. away his hand, whilo the tears, which had People who were engnged to bo married nl- been crowding tbeir way into my eyes, gave waya gave snch pledges. Ho should spoak a sadden dash down my burning cheeks.— to father nbout it, so that I would be all "I'll never sit tbere again, never!" right. If ho was willing, would I wear tho ; "My dear little Phobo 1" ring ?" i Thore wos real pathos in hia rioh, manly "Nn, I didn't like rings !" ; voice, a quick, penctrntinj^psurprisod look "Wouldn't I like a ring that he would in his clear blue eyes as he uttered these buy 1" words, followed by a rapid, wondering ex- "No, I wouldn't like nring at nny rate." : pression of tenderness, as he repeated During his stay, which was protracted them, to monlhs instead of weeks, ho strove in j "My dear little Phebe I May God bless every way to change my determination you !" about the engagement ring, as ho termed I I stole quietly away from him ont oftho it. I wns inexorable. A ring I would not house, with that fervent benediction lying wear. Not even when he mado ready for fresh and deep upon my childish heart, hia departure, and told nie that in a fow i and threw myself down in thoshode ofthe weeks he should be thousands of miles away old orchard trees, and sobbed out thohonv- from me, nor when he piled up beforo mo ¦ iness that pressed upon my spirits. For pictures that he had drawn at his leizure, hours I lay thero in the mellow Soptember during the long summer houra that hung ' sunshine, brooding ovor the little romonce heavily upon his hands, would I revoke my that had so silently ond strangely grown decision. I would tako the finely execu- ^ into the woof of my almost baby life. I ted drawings, tho prettily framed portraits , wept before my time for tbo delicious griefs ' of himself, but I would bavc no rings. ; that foreverclmg to a sweet, conscious wo- At last he went away from us. I thall manhood. • nevor forget the morning, or bow cold, '¦ Wben I returned to the house Frank dull, and cheerless it seemed to me. How had taken his leave, but in my little work- dreary and desolate everything looked bo- basket he left a small pearl box, whioh »suse ho w«.i "ois" •w<>'<'. It was no ever" I ccntaised s nl^is "old nn" ! Did I we:r day grief that bore down upon my young it ? Are you a woman, reader, and ask it ? heart, no childish promise that assured I — him, as he kissed my quivering lips, that | "Phebe, Phebe, mothor says, comedown I would nerer forget hira, and that I would stairs ! Thero is a gentleman in the parlor alwnys bo his little Mrs. Haynes. ; who wishes to seo you." "Would I writo to him and sign that' The words broke harshly into my picas- name ?" ant dreams, which I had been weaving all "Yes, I would." tho long golden July nfternoon, in the un- ' "I was a good girl, then, nnd he would broken stillness of my little chambcr. At ' never forget roo. Oood-bye !" ' my feet, npon the ohrpet, with it* loaves : "Good-bye I" My voice trembled and rumpled and crushed, lay my neglected \ fluttered upon the words. In my short life Virgil in oloao proximity to a huge Latin ; they were the hardest 1 had found to apeak. | dictionary, whilo upon my lap, in a wrink- During the next two years no ladylove \ led oondition, my sowing was lying, with ' could have beon more faithful to hcr absent tbe needle banging by a long line of thread, \ knight than I was to Frank Haynes. The \ nearly to the floor, aa if escaped luckily : brightest moments of my lifo circled about from a round of monotonous hemming, the reception of his latters, the greatest joy I which, as yet, boasted hot two or three of lifo was in answering them. Among my ' stitches at its commencement, schoolmates I had no childish love, no juve- "Who oan it ba that wishes to see me?" : niles to wait npon me to sleigh-rides and I I exclaimed, risiughastily and calling after ' parties, that the children in the neighbor- ' my little six-year-old brother. "Who is I hood delighted in. If I could not go and it, Charlie ?" j come alone, I would remain at home—what- "Don't know ; it's somebody. Mother ; ever might be the induoements offored to soys, come down." i tempt mo from my unswerving course. I "Who can it bo ?" An hour since I i was little Mrs. ifsynes, and littlo Mrs. ' had seen a gentlomon with a heavily-beord Haynes I was bent upon remaining. But while I was in thc very midst of my heroic devotion, a terrible rumor reoched iny cars, a rumor that Frank Haynes, my self- appointed iofd and master, woa engaged to a young aud beautiful lady in the uity. It waa a dreadful blow to my precocious hopes and plans, though for a long while I battled against crediting the report. Hadn't Frank told me that he would never look about for a wife 1 that I was the only lady who should bear his name ? Didn't ho write me regu¬ lnrly every fortnight, commencing his let¬ ters "Dear little Mrs. Haynes," and telling me to be faithfnl to him ? And—and— would he do this if ho waa engaged to her? —Not a bit of it I Some ono had mali¬ ciously lied about him, had manufaolured the liea from their own wicked imagination. I would not believe it, though the whole world stood up before me and testified to iu truth. At If to reward me for roy faith, and set my pregndioed little mind to rights, th« next ooaoh aet Frank down at oar door. Ilu luuuff ufc o« suasi, uuuiis auu wv Mi« lit¬ tle wife«o«aiDgfer^ a^i^i s* ^ *<>'>' i'") rju-* »-¦*» "-' ¦'¦ . !.!_ .1 U k. idljr ed face comc np the walk, bnt I was too busy with my dreams to notice him very particularly. Still, as I recalled his face and figure, and his quick springing step, there seemed something strangely familiar in them. Who could it be ? My beart beat rapidly. Sorely I had that faoo and form before, and a name that waa singnlarly dear to me trembled npon my lips—"Frank Hi|ynes 1" But I could not go down to meet him, though I was aummoned a thouaand times. I did not wiah to see him ; why ahould I? Tbere was no ocoasion for it. I was oot the foolish little girl of twelve summera that he had left five yoars ago in short frocks and curls, but a full-grown woman instead. No, I was not tbe samo. I would not go duwn. Besides, a sudden headache was nearly blinding me. Mother couldnot ask it of mo when I waa hardly able to ait up. But what would ho think ? Would he care ? Would he still remember, ten¬ derly, the little Mrs. Haynes of five yeara ^%\..s . , . . ..,, s.-r -.-.-, jjiUiVi J. rv|Nmlvu tuw wO.** •«» s. nmwu before the long mitror, whiob gs>e baok ; slender, passable form; a dark, clear com¬ plexion; large gray eyes; a mouth whose redness seemed to havo robbed my cheoks of their color; white toeth ; a forehead brond, but not high ; Inrgo braids of chest¬ nut brown hnir, was the likeness framed befora my eyes. I turned away with a sigh, and glanced dowu to my hand. Upun the third finger of thc left wns a plain gold cir¬ clet. The hot blood rushed up into my oheeka ns I looked at it. I would wenr it no longer. He shonld never know that I had worn it nt all. Just then my brother ' came again to tho door of roy room, crying out a new messngo. "Mothor soys liltle Mrs. Hoynoa is won¬ ted down slairs." ¦¦I liBvo ¦ iurriuio headache, Chnriio.— • Plense tell mother so;" and I sank down upon a chair close by tho window, and leaned my hand upon a ohair handle. "Denr, denr! ifthoy would but forget me I" I murmured to myself, as thc hum of tbcir convoraation came clearly to my ears. An hour passed away, and I heard a sound of voices in tho hall, thc stops in tho walk below. I did not glanco eagerly from the window, or peep cnrefully from the holf closed shutters, but clasped my hands lightly over my eyes till the sound : of footsteps died away in the distance, then I crept stcallhfully down stairs and step-' fied softly into tho silent parlor, whcro so ately be hnd been. I wns hnlf across the room beforo I noticed I wns not alone, and then, bcforo I could make a hasty retreat, a glad, merry voico', rioh with its golden UiUsio exoluiiuuu," ''My owu dear iiiilo Mrs. Haynes, as I live! How hnppy I nm to see you !" and n hand clasped mine tightly, while a pair of bearded lips woro down to mine. I drew my hcoti bock haughtily. I was a child no longer. I would not accept, even from him, the caresses that ho had bestowed upon me flve yoars before. "Ab, Mr. Haynes," I said, bowing in a dignified woy, "I am pleased to see you." My manner chilled at onco his warm, genial nature. Stepping backward from and rclenaing my hand, bo snid with a curl on his finely cut lips, "Your pardon. Miss Lester, I had quile forgotton that you had grown to be a fine Indy!" I bowed him back a reply, flashing n quiok, impetuous glance upon hiin,os I did so. But there wus no pleasantry attempted on his part, and wben my mother entered the room a few moments nfter, and re¬ ferred, laughingly, to our old engngemcnt, he answered her in a few evasive words, as \ thoagh the subjoot was not an agrceablo one to bim. Affuirs had taken an unhappy turn, but it was too lato to remedy tbem, and Jny after day pnssed away, leaving Mr. Haynes as cold and distant as he hod been from the moment I first repulsed him. I would have given worlds to have recalled my unlucky words, yet, since they wcro spoken, I would ' nnt nnhend a mnmAnt. frnm my oalm, cool dignity, though I was so miaorable and ! wretched as Icould well be, and know that ' Mr. Haynes shared my wretcheduesa. I All the time that I oould spend iu my I chomber, withoat being absolutely rude, ; waa passed there, till roy strange, unusual ' appearance was noticed by my father and ' mother, and my mood commented freely upon before our guest. "You appear su strangely, Phebe," said roy mother onc morning, "I really do not know how lo understand you. I'm afraid that Mr. Iluynea will think that yoa aro not pleased to see him. Kvery ohanoe that I occurs you resolutely avoid him, as though he was thc veriest monster, instead of a ' dear friend. What is the matter ?" I "Nothing. Tho strangeness of my ap- : pearancc ia but a refleotion. I cannot help It. Mr. Haynes hates and despises nie ! now," I said, burying roy tearful eyes in ' my hands. I "Phebe!" My mother's voice was atom and re- proaohful, but I did not hood it. I "Ho does hate me. Mother ! hates me with—" ¦ "Your pardon, little Phebe—Miss Lo- ' st«r, but he does not I" broke in Ihe clear, \ rich voico of Mr. Haynes. "Of all persons \ in the world—" Ho paused, and in a roo- ; ment more I heard my mother step lightly I from the room. "I am not cold, haughty, and proud," II said excitedly, looking up into his faco, I "and I do liko you jast as well—aswell—" j "What, littlo Phebo ?" he aaked eager¬ ly, a quick expression of joy lighting up j his bias eyes. "As well aa I ever did !" I faltered. "And now well ia that ?" So well thtt dnripg all theae weary years you have not ohcriahod a dream of the future tbat did not enoirole me f So well tbatevcry stroog, passionate hopo of your womanly nature has reaohed out oonttaotly to me ? As well as I havo liked, aye, loved you—till every pulse of your heart beats for mo f As woll as tbis,*Phebe f" I oovered my faoe that ho might not read the whole expression pf my lave ip my telltale eyea, aqd be shpokad that it in earneat, Phebe ?" ho asked, drawing me TWO SWALLOWS AT SAORAMEMTO. to my old seat upon his knee. Two swallows, in looking fur a place tu "Yes !" build their nests, discovered a coxy littlo "And will at least wear the ring ?" nook in the rear part of the oabin of tha I held up my flngcr bofore his eyo. I steamer Young America, which waa laying "My own darling little wifo ! at laat my ! moored to tbe old bulk at the foot of K little Mrs. Haynes, in gnod faith I" he ox- i atreet, and forthwith commeneod thair la- olaiuicd, covering my lipa wilh kisses. j bors ; the female flying to nnd fro, carry- That night thero wore ily looks and | ing straw, and aliuks, aud fuathors, and glances cast towards me at evory lurn, and | tho male bird standing like a roastor-work- at the supper table my father quito forgot mon overseeing tbo job, and lending hia himself, and called me "little Mrs. Haynes" aid in placing and oompleting tho tinj: again. homestead. "The flrst day aaw thefoHfli'ii Reader, I have bocn a happy wifo for dation of their home well laid, and tha' some three blessed, sunshiny years, and, bappy birds rested from tbeir labors that as you may hove olready conjectured, "m^ I night, and flniahed it, perhaps, in their name is itaynet," ] dreams. Thencxt morning, bright aod . ——. ,..»¦ . j enrly, tlioy wcro ngain ot work, an busy aa OAREBE OF A RIOH MAN. nnilurs; but, alas! thehourof lOTeii oamo, We have soen it stated lately, upon what the stenmer whistle sounded, and away appears to be reiiablo authority that tho wont the steamer, nest and all, cn route wealth of William B. Aator, of New York, ; for Morysvilje. The frightonod birds ohirp- omounts to ot Ico.Ht forty millions of dol-¦ ed, chnttercd, nnd flow back and forth, lars. It is curious to trnco thia brond, yol- , but Captain Littlnton nover heeded their \ low strenm to ita first beginnings in tho I ory. On went tha boat, opi^ away Wfllti early career of John Jacob Astor, father I their ncw made homo, of the present millionaire. | It was a cloar case of sqaatterism, b|>|{ From a sketoh of thia remarkable man, I thoj wero sensible birds, and knew tha/' whieh nppenrs in a work entitled. "Fifty j would be "plucked" if thoy wont to low, Yoars in both Hemispheres," by 'Vincent , so thoy quietly submitted to their fato,aa4j Nolle, wa Icorn that John Jacob Astor ; after following the steamer as far sa Sad*! ' was born ot Ueidclburg, whero tho origi- I ranicnto bridge, they returned to thc old! nol pomo of his fnmily is said to hnve been hulk. Tbnt was a sad day for tho little Aschlcr, and thai he CSKC 10 New York ' couplo, and whot thoughts crowded on thoir na a furrier's opprentioc. Ho wns" at dmt ¦ UH'" hearts. Uo only knowa who "holdsj time 08 poor as any other apprentice boy, ; tho BirorrC',ri"J,'?." Thejioxt day corao, and then, or now in Ncw York. Tho wages ! with it they saw tho steuiilflr 5£ini9 bao^j hc got at the peltry warehouse lor boating to the landing, and the nest Ihcy hod {tarf-j out nnd preparing various skins, ho inves- ' ly built still undiiturbcd. With mcrryi tcd in tho purcbnso of nll kinds of peltry, chirpinga of delight tlioy began thuir task^; bear, mink and rabbit skins, which he got | ouly to bo again anguished on tho morroWi from tho Indians, who, nt that time, wan- ' by tho departure oftho stoamor, nndglad« derod about tho streols of New York, and doncj on tho succeeding day by ita rpti^n^^j OS soon as he had collected a ccrtnin quan- , Thua it hns continued with th«m for neattj tity, he sent them to the Leipsic fair, Eu- ly a fortnight, nnd tho nest is notcomple-| ; rope. Thore it is stnted, ho traded thcin ted. Tlicy are kept in a constanl fluttori off for Nuroniburg wares, cheap knives, ¦ of hopo and fonr, aud labor and losa; bat] glass beads, and other ortieles adopted to : they do not despair, nor havo they songk^' traffic with tho Indinns on tho Canadian 1 another and moro secure place for tbolr frontiers, nnd took thom himself to tho lat- ' domicile. But strange to sny thoy hara ter points, whcro hc ngnin exchanged thom actually Icorned to rccognizo the stenmer, for furs of vnrious kinds. Ilo often told and watch for hor coming ond meet her ai Mr. Nolle thnt he enrried on this work un- ' the bridge obovo the city, to welcome hei: tiringly, for twelve long yenrs, going in bnck to hor moorings. How it will be when person alternately, to tbo Canadian fron- ; the nest is finished and tho egga arc laid, tiers and then to tho Loipsic fair, nnd liv- ' and thc lime coines for the regulor tripa ed all the while, as hc had been accus-;—whether tho mother will cling to thai tomed to do, humbly nnd sparingly. Aftor homestood and take tho voyage to Marj^L he had thua managed to bring together a ; ville, and tho fother accompany hor, trav- considerable capital, ho gradually become oiling boc'xward ond forwnrd as doatlheads a freighter of ships, and fitted out expedi- j or whether theirs will be "broken op" by tions to thfl north-west coast to trode with the "irreprcsgiblo divorce and desertipp,' the Indians of Nootka Sound for furs. An- as hundreds of other fiiniilics htve beeo in other and very considerable round up tho Colifornin, we shall'wait to seo. The nbove ladder of forluno was taken by Astor in ja a true story. Thoso who can't swallow land speculation. Snme of hie country- ' ..... .-. men owned lnnd in Ncw York by virtue of being relations nnd heirs of German sol¬ diers who had fought in tbo Amerioan ar¬ my in thc Revolntion, and to whom Con- it, may "matoh it and tako it."- mento Bee. ¦Sacra- Curbstone Politics.—On Cbaoge, two or threo days sinoe, one of our noisy Bell- Evoretts wta blowinit lustily for hia can- ^'lyYanrof"Vires7soldi^rrZd'"'''wilhout ^'^'^T' i^^ ^fn^f^^i '<="»('''» 8""" luuiiy u. '".•¦'¦«' =""' '¦ = "'<;>• wiiiiuuj „)„ch in his estimation were snro to go converting tncir properUinto nioney, nnd . ihem \ Astor, after a visit to fteidolberg, mndo | ,.„,,,,,' „„ ^^ „ i„i„, ,,j , r, ,^^, an arrangement with the heirs which was ^^ „ „^ ^^^.^^^ ^^,^^ ^^ £j^ mutually agreeable ; they thinking it bet- ^„,„ ^^^^^^ ^^^ candidatea." ter to have a little rendy cash than to own , ..y^„^ ^.^^J^^ ^^^^^ , j^j^^^,^ ^^^.^ get hnlf n dozen States altogether," return¬ ed the Bcll-Kverett man. 'Look here," toaumed the Republioan, ¦I will bet you a huodred dollart that I a good deal of Innd, the vnlue of which | was very slow in increasing, and ho hav¬ iog tho foresight to onticipote, and tbo i patience to owait results. So tho hoirs i got thoir money, and Astor obtained their j „^„ „,„,„ gfj^^„ g ^^^^ ^ .„ land; some of which is tiow among J" j ,„d then I will bel you five hundred doll^ most valuablo aod most important in tho ; ,.„ „„,„ „,„j j „/ „„„,„ ^^^ .dditional' oity of New York. In this way a fortune | g^„,^ ,h,^ ^j,, ^ f„ U„coIn." I'll Uko those b«U," aaid Bell Bvaratt of twelve millions of dollars was accuuiu lated. The vast interest under the mon- Bgonientof hisson, William B. Astor, Esri. shows that ha inherits the energy nnd busi¬ ness habita of fail father, but affords no such deniunitration of roouey-making ge¬ nius as tho career of John Jacub. Indeed, the latter is reported to have said that it cost him more troublo to make tbo first promptly ; "nuw oame your States." "It will bo timo enough to dn that whw the money is up," replied the Ropublieap.' The money wos pat up. The Republli^< can then named Ihe fifteen alave Statea aa those upon wbioh ho proposed to risk tha hundred dollara, and Alaine, Maasaohn- , , „ ,. „ ,, • J ; 'o'tai New Uampabiro, Vermont and Wit- thousand dollars, than all the remainder k,„„,j,j^,g^^,jjiiip„^, g^tet upon of his fortune. which ho proposed to riak tho Bva haa- "¦ „ «».» - - drtd Bell Everett opened his eyea, gaaa a Tuk MuBi)MH> MrrHODiar ^Mii.J.8- , ^^j,,,, ,„j j,,^>„ „,^,j ',^;fi„ok. MB.-Rev. Mr. Bewly, who was huog in ; '^bout as amiable as a boar before break- Texas by a pro-s avery mob a short tiino , j^^^ ,„j ^^^^ ^.^^jf^ „j,j ,,;„ „ j,,. since, on suspicion of abol.tiomam, tho „„ j^^^ j h„, ,,, ,h ^^ Peno.ylva- Albany Journal tnya will be remembered i ^-^^ ^„„,j ^ ^, ,<,|j ber. toappiahly, that by many who attended the Goneral Cou-, ^^ ,„, ji„„ugted wilh politics, and would ferenee at Buffalo last May. He ropro- i f,,,„i ,,„ „<,, t^ introduce tho subject at sented the Arkansas Conferonco, and was ^^^ diooer table agnin. recognized aa a peaceful, hamble, and de¬ voted evangelist. His views of SInvery woro of the niildeat oharacter, aod ho would be deemed the last man to tbnut bis views offensively—mild and conseijva- tive tho' thoy wore—iipon any community. I Oo hia removal to 'Texas a few mooths leet him, thongh he to me an accurato piotura idoltti^. ¦"¦"ill joabecQiDa Mw. An Impobtamt Quutt—^Tbara ara now more spots on the suo than bavo been teen for many years; some of those are visible thrnugh a smoked glass to tho na¬ ked oye. Sovera! stars—some of them of l-i graat biillianoy, whioh, from their atear* sinoe, ho oarried with bim tattimoniala of j tained distaocr, mutt have been at larga hit humility tud doyolioa fo hit work.— ^ „ qu,. ^q—Jmyj totallr disappeared from But bo was a Methoditt. "Thaf, in Texas, i the aky; and tho question has been raised is deemed tho equivalent of Abolitionism; i »mong astronomem, whether the ligbt and and tho dovoted mroisler of Chiist, pyilty heat of the sun aro gradually fading away, of BO crime, and on the merest suspicion ! At thit would be aeeompanied by tho M- thtl be eheritfaed offentiva opinions, wts | struotion of all tho plants and animalt on hung up like a mwderar 1 | the earth, it is rathor an interesting quea- -r"~ , , '-• ••' ¦ Ition. The sun's light and heat are dimin- Mr A lady wsnt to a oirout not long | j.^.^ ^y tbe dark tpoU at tha present tima ".'""L'^^-7-'."7..""lV'"'?"'!!f*^-l!*- I about one per cent. there. Her oiasslcader waa vei ' embarrasted in findia'ghi mttoH ; Mr Piety and wi«|:«(l)[i>ta 4WHm4^ tngathtr.
Object Description
Title | Journal American |
Masthead | Huntingdon Journal and American |
Volume | 1 |
Issue | 47 |
Subject | Huntingdon County (Pa.); Anti-Masonic; whig; Huntingdon County genealogy; Juniata River valley; early newspapers; advertising; politics; literature; morality; arts; sciences; agriculture; amusements; Standing Stone; primary sources. |
Description | The Anti-Masonic Huntingdon Journal was first published on the 25th of September, 1835. Under the direction of several owners and editors, the paper became the Huntingdon Journal and American in 1855 and then restored to the Huntingdon Journal in 1870. |
Publisher | A.W. Benedict, T.H. Cremer, J. Clark, J.S. Stewart, S.L. Glasgow, W. Brewster, S.G. Whittaker, J.A. Nash, R. McDivitt, and J.R. Durborrow |
Date | 1860-10-31 |
Location Covered | Huntingdon County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Source | Microfilm |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | To submit an inquiry about or request a viewing of Archives or Special Collections materials complete the Archives and Special Collections Request Form here: https://libguides.juniata.edu/ASC |
Contributing Institution | Juniata College |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
LCCN number | sn86071455, sn86053559, sn86071456, sn86081969 |
Month | 10 |
Day | 31 |
Year | 1860 |
Description
Title | Journal American |
Masthead | Huntingdon Journal and American |
Volume | 1 |
Issue | 47 |
Subject | Huntingdon County (Pa.); Anti-Masonic; whig; Huntingdon County genealogy; Juniata River valley; early newspapers; advertising; politics; literature; morality; arts; sciences; agriculture; amusements; Standing Stone; primary sources. |
Description | The Anti-Masonic Huntingdon Journal was first published on the 25th of September, 1835. Under the direction of several owners and editors, the paper became the Huntingdon Journal and American in 1855 and then restored to the Huntingdon Journal in 1870. |
Publisher | A.W. Benedict, T.H. Cremer, J. Clark, J.S. Stewart, S.L. Glasgow, W. Brewster, S.G. Whittaker, J.A. Nash, R. McDivitt, and J.R. Durborrow |
Date | 1860-10-31 |
Date Digitized | 2007-06-07 |
Location Covered | Huntingdon County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Digital Specifications | Image was scanned by OCLC at the Preservation Service Center in Bethlehem, PA. Archival Image is an 8-bit grayscale tiff that was scanned from microfilm at 400 dpi. The original file size was 21077 kilobytes. |
Source | Microfilm |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | To submit an inquiry about or request a viewing of Archives or Special Collections materials complete the Archives and Special Collections Request Form here: https://libguides.juniata.edu/ASC |
Contributing Institution | Juniata College |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Full Text | |0urMl atjHTIlfODOir S^mmrati. NASU & WUITTAKER, 'EXOELSIOR." C4ll(ara and Proprletora. OLD SERIES, VOL, 28. HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1860. NEW SERIES, VOL. 1, NO. 47. TERMS: Ter annum in advance, $S1,50 " " if not paid in adranoe, Q'OO No paper discontinued until all arrearages »re paid. A failuro to notify a discontinuance at the •spiration of the term subscribed for will be •onsldered a new engagement. Terma of Advertiaing: 1 ina. 2 ins. 3 ins. fature he shoald oall me Mra. Haynes— little Mrs. Haynes, and ahould bo very an¬ gry if everybody in the house did not fol- thonpfat it very bad taate in me to grow at I suoh a rapid rata. He was afraid I'd grow out of uy engagement; be sbould haro to ' Dx lines or less, 1 aqnare, 1 S I aqnare. J 1. S " 4 " e " 12 lines. H tuo. (8 00 5 00 7 50 9 00 15 00 25 S'i 50 76 00 I 50 60 2 25 0 mo. $5 OO 8 00 10 00 14 00 40 00 50 1 00 2 00 3 00 12 IUO. $8 00 12 00 15 00 2.1 00 SO 00 J <>Mi,m^_ 25 OO 10 00 SO OC Professional and Buainess Cards not exceed¬ ing six Unes, one year, roua dollars. US' All bills for adverlisiug due after th Grat insertion, -ea low hia example. I must not ever have put a loaf of hot bread upon my head to any little beaux ainong the school boya now keep mo within bounds. We had been en-1 that my name was obanged ; but I must be ' gaged two years; I was twelve ydars old, ; prim aod proper like any niarried woman I and a hoad taller than I was at ton. He j who was faithful to her huaband. i was going to Kuropa to stay three or four ' "Would I agree to this?" he aaknd. ! years ; what would I be when he return- ! I glanced up froiu tho hem of my whito \ ed 1 Ho did not dare to think. Be be-! muslin apron, which I had been twisting i licved I would be as tull aa he was by that • about my fingers, to meet my mother's eye timo. Wouldn't IT ; fixed laughingly upon my faco. In a mo- ; "I hoped so," I answered, tartly, tbink- ment my lips wero olosed resolutely, while ' ing tbe while of the story of his engage- . hc seeing at onoe thc cause of my silence, monl. reached out of tho window and plucked a "Whew ! You are taking on airs of a i rose from a running vine that orept nearly fine young lady, alrendy, my littlo Phebe," j to tu6 ¦tt'fOD, viivvo. iio uiiBwercu, inugiiiug iieariiiy. *-Vou j "Little Mra. Haynes must wear tho rose." wouldn't give mo one of your brown curls j hc said. "It would never do. for hcr to toss today, if my heart shoald break for it; j her bead and throw his gifta earelcssly by. would you ?" "QUAKERS ARE OUT." At a Republican nieeting in Georgetown, Masa., tho following song, entitled "The <)ua- kers aro Out," written by John Q. Wbitticr, inu read: Not vainly wo wailed and counted the hour, The buds ofour hopo have burst out Into Ilowers, No room for misgiving—noloop-hulo of doubt— We've henrd from the Kcyatoue ! The Quakers aro out ! The plot has ex|)lodcd-wo've found out the triok; The bribe goes a begging; tho fuaion won't stick. When the Wide-Awake lanterns are ahining about The roguea stay at homo, and tho true men oomo ont! Tho good State haa broken the cords for her spun; Her oil apringa and water won't fuse into one ; The Dutchman has seaaoncd with Freedom hia krout; And slow, late but certain, the Quakera arc out! Qive the (lags to the wind! set the liilla nll n^nme Make way for thc mnn wilh the pnlriarch'a nnme! Away wilh misgivings—away with all doubt. For Lineoln gnca in whon tlic Quakera come out! All married women woro flowers which their husbands gavo tbem. Would I wear the roso?" I glanced abont the room again. My mother wns nowhere to bo seen, nnd so I said thnt I would wear it if ho wanted me (S LITTLE MRS. UAYNES."; It was an eventful era in my young life when my fnthor announced his intention of renting thelight, airy southern chamber of our old brown house to a young portrait painter, who was about becominga resident of our village, during a fow weeks of tbo summer. Never before had an event so stirring and exciting in its tendenoy broken over the monotony ofmyexistence. Never before had my childish imagination been furnished with so wide a field of action, or my liltle heart throbbed and palpitated with auch a strange mixturo of wonder and de¬ light. A portrait painter under onr own 1i>rown roof, within the walls of our own bome !—what ararc chance formy inquisi¬ tive eves to drw in a new fund of knowl- «dgc . What an object of envy I should be to my little mates, and how daintily would 1 mete out to them whnt I learned from day ti> day of tbe wondrous man of ths 7osdrc',u. ssi'^lcmc:!!! I had heard of portrait painters before, it ia true, but only as I had heard and road of fairies in my little story-books, or lis¬ tened to my father as he talked of kings and courtiers in the great world far off. Fpon parlorwalls, from iiiy earliestreinem- 'brance, bad hung portraila of uiy grnnd- fathers and gmndmothera, but I had no idea how their ftces came stamped upon tho dnrk canvas, or when or by whom their shadows had been fixed within tho henvy frames. Like the trees that waved by the door, and tho lilacs that blossomed every joar by the old gate, thnt had to me alwnys been so. But now my eyes were to rest upon tho face of one whose existence had been liko a myth,—a fable ! What a wonderful per- aonagc he would be ! What a durk visage he would boast, and what a monstrous, ^giantlike form! How entirely unlike overy porson that I had evor seen or known, would DC this portrait painter. Wbilc these speculations wero at their fteight in my busy brain, the hero mado hii appearance, scattering tbem mcroi- le«ly to the four winda. There waa noth¬ ing giant-like in the lithe, graceful figure thnt sprang from the village coach, or dark in tho pleasant, boyish face, shaded by soft masses of brown hair, and lit up a merry pair of blue ayes running over with mirth and miachief. His name, too, quite like the generality of names, had nothing won- 'derfnl or striking by which to characterize it He waa simply Frank Haynes, noth- (Dg more or lesa, and wheo, with a pleas¬ ant, easy grace he sought to win my child¬ ish favor, I shoald have been quite at home Iwd not the stunning knowledge of bis art overpowered me'. It was a strange freak for a child of t^n summers, but somehow it crept into my baby-brain that I must not lixe him, althongh the white, in spite of jnyself, a preference for bis opinions, wass and looKSr.grew up strong witbin me. If ke spoke to me when any one was ob¬ serving him, I was ailent and shrank away from him timidly, but when we were alooe I ftuitted andoiuruped like ayoung robin. I think he must have noticed tbu, and from it taken itito hia head tbc boyish idea f-iii«.--*v-mm, ««••*«, i-w»»»ii- bj^ester no longer, now that ha •hi cnrpd for him. For Iba No, I havo nono to spare." Not ono?" I No." Why?" " : I Cause—" Cause what ?" to. I "Because, she bas heard strange reports "And would I consent to bc called little of you, Frank," broke in my mother, mis- Mrs. Haynes?" chievously. "She hasn't aay idoa of letting "Yea, I would consent." . you rob hcr of her curls while she doubls "Then it wos all right. Ho would never your sincere allegiance to hcr. Sho is a look about for a wifo, nor I should nevor lady of spirit, you see." look about for a husbnnd. Wo wore Mr. "On my faith, sho is !" ho exclaimed and Mrs. Haynes. Did that auit liini ?" gaily, fixing bis blue eyes on my fnco. "Oh, yes, that suited me ! I liked that!'' , "And I trow I'm in love with her face for "Well, then, ho should havo to buy nie it. Nover mind reports my littlo lady." a littlo gum iiug iu Wear UpuU my third I auswcied unly by n curi uf uiy lips, finger, to let the folks know that somo one while he reached out bis band to draw me owned mo." . to a seat upon bis knee. "No, I didn't want a ring !" "No, I won't sit there!" I cried, pushing "Tut, tut, tut! That would never do. away his hand, whilo the tears, which had People who were engnged to bo married nl- been crowding tbeir way into my eyes, gave waya gave snch pledges. Ho should spoak a sadden dash down my burning cheeks.— to father nbout it, so that I would be all "I'll never sit tbere again, never!" right. If ho was willing, would I wear tho ; "My dear little Phobo 1" ring ?" i Thore wos real pathos in hia rioh, manly "Nn, I didn't like rings !" ; voice, a quick, penctrntinj^psurprisod look "Wouldn't I like a ring that he would in his clear blue eyes as he uttered these buy 1" words, followed by a rapid, wondering ex- "No, I wouldn't like nring at nny rate." : pression of tenderness, as he repeated During his stay, which was protracted them, to monlhs instead of weeks, ho strove in j "My dear little Phebe I May God bless every way to change my determination you !" about the engagement ring, as ho termed I I stole quietly away from him ont oftho it. I wns inexorable. A ring I would not house, with that fervent benediction lying wear. Not even when he mado ready for fresh and deep upon my childish heart, hia departure, and told nie that in a fow i and threw myself down in thoshode ofthe weeks he should be thousands of miles away old orchard trees, and sobbed out thohonv- from me, nor when he piled up beforo mo ¦ iness that pressed upon my spirits. For pictures that he had drawn at his leizure, hours I lay thero in the mellow Soptember during the long summer houra that hung ' sunshine, brooding ovor the little romonce heavily upon his hands, would I revoke my that had so silently ond strangely grown decision. I would tako the finely execu- ^ into the woof of my almost baby life. I ted drawings, tho prettily framed portraits , wept before my time for tbo delicious griefs ' of himself, but I would bavc no rings. ; that foreverclmg to a sweet, conscious wo- At last he went away from us. I thall manhood. • nevor forget the morning, or bow cold, '¦ Wben I returned to the house Frank dull, and cheerless it seemed to me. How had taken his leave, but in my little work- dreary and desolate everything looked bo- basket he left a small pearl box, whioh »suse ho w«.i "ois" •w<>'<'. It was no ever" I ccntaised s nl^is "old nn" ! Did I we:r day grief that bore down upon my young it ? Are you a woman, reader, and ask it ? heart, no childish promise that assured I — him, as he kissed my quivering lips, that | "Phebe, Phebe, mothor says, comedown I would nerer forget hira, and that I would stairs ! Thero is a gentleman in the parlor alwnys bo his little Mrs. Haynes. ; who wishes to seo you." "Would I writo to him and sign that' The words broke harshly into my picas- name ?" ant dreams, which I had been weaving all "Yes, I would." tho long golden July nfternoon, in the un- ' "I was a good girl, then, nnd he would broken stillness of my little chambcr. At ' never forget roo. Oood-bye !" ' my feet, npon the ohrpet, with it* loaves : "Good-bye I" My voice trembled and rumpled and crushed, lay my neglected \ fluttered upon the words. In my short life Virgil in oloao proximity to a huge Latin ; they were the hardest 1 had found to apeak. | dictionary, whilo upon my lap, in a wrink- During the next two years no ladylove \ led oondition, my sowing was lying, with ' could have beon more faithful to hcr absent tbe needle banging by a long line of thread, \ knight than I was to Frank Haynes. The \ nearly to the floor, aa if escaped luckily : brightest moments of my lifo circled about from a round of monotonous hemming, the reception of his latters, the greatest joy I which, as yet, boasted hot two or three of lifo was in answering them. Among my ' stitches at its commencement, schoolmates I had no childish love, no juve- "Who oan it ba that wishes to see me?" : niles to wait npon me to sleigh-rides and I I exclaimed, risiughastily and calling after ' parties, that the children in the neighbor- ' my little six-year-old brother. "Who is I hood delighted in. If I could not go and it, Charlie ?" j come alone, I would remain at home—what- "Don't know ; it's somebody. Mother ; ever might be the induoements offored to soys, come down." i tempt mo from my unswerving course. I "Who can it bo ?" An hour since I i was little Mrs. ifsynes, and littlo Mrs. ' had seen a gentlomon with a heavily-beord Haynes I was bent upon remaining. But while I was in thc very midst of my heroic devotion, a terrible rumor reoched iny cars, a rumor that Frank Haynes, my self- appointed iofd and master, woa engaged to a young aud beautiful lady in the uity. It waa a dreadful blow to my precocious hopes and plans, though for a long while I battled against crediting the report. Hadn't Frank told me that he would never look about for a wife 1 that I was the only lady who should bear his name ? Didn't ho write me regu¬ lnrly every fortnight, commencing his let¬ ters "Dear little Mrs. Haynes," and telling me to be faithfnl to him ? And—and— would he do this if ho waa engaged to her? —Not a bit of it I Some ono had mali¬ ciously lied about him, had manufaolured the liea from their own wicked imagination. I would not believe it, though the whole world stood up before me and testified to iu truth. At If to reward me for roy faith, and set my pregndioed little mind to rights, th« next ooaoh aet Frank down at oar door. Ilu luuuff ufc o« suasi, uuuiis auu wv Mi« lit¬ tle wife«o«aiDgfer^ a^i^i s* ^ *<>'>' i'") rju-* »-¦*» "-' ¦'¦ . !.!_ .1 U k. idljr ed face comc np the walk, bnt I was too busy with my dreams to notice him very particularly. Still, as I recalled his face and figure, and his quick springing step, there seemed something strangely familiar in them. Who could it be ? My beart beat rapidly. Sorely I had that faoo and form before, and a name that waa singnlarly dear to me trembled npon my lips—"Frank Hi|ynes 1" But I could not go down to meet him, though I was aummoned a thouaand times. I did not wiah to see him ; why ahould I? Tbere was no ocoasion for it. I was oot the foolish little girl of twelve summera that he had left five yoars ago in short frocks and curls, but a full-grown woman instead. No, I was not tbe samo. I would not go duwn. Besides, a sudden headache was nearly blinding me. Mother couldnot ask it of mo when I waa hardly able to ait up. But what would ho think ? Would he care ? Would he still remember, ten¬ derly, the little Mrs. Haynes of five yeara ^%\..s . , . . ..,, s.-r -.-.-, jjiUiVi J. rv|Nmlvu tuw wO.** •«» s. nmwu before the long mitror, whiob gs>e baok ; slender, passable form; a dark, clear com¬ plexion; large gray eyes; a mouth whose redness seemed to havo robbed my cheoks of their color; white toeth ; a forehead brond, but not high ; Inrgo braids of chest¬ nut brown hnir, was the likeness framed befora my eyes. I turned away with a sigh, and glanced dowu to my hand. Upun the third finger of thc left wns a plain gold cir¬ clet. The hot blood rushed up into my oheeka ns I looked at it. I would wenr it no longer. He shonld never know that I had worn it nt all. Just then my brother ' came again to tho door of roy room, crying out a new messngo. "Mothor soys liltle Mrs. Hoynoa is won¬ ted down slairs." ¦¦I liBvo ¦ iurriuio headache, Chnriio.— • Plense tell mother so;" and I sank down upon a chair close by tho window, and leaned my hand upon a ohair handle. "Denr, denr! ifthoy would but forget me I" I murmured to myself, as thc hum of tbcir convoraation came clearly to my ears. An hour passed away, and I heard a sound of voices in tho hall, thc stops in tho walk below. I did not glanco eagerly from the window, or peep cnrefully from the holf closed shutters, but clasped my hands lightly over my eyes till the sound : of footsteps died away in the distance, then I crept stcallhfully down stairs and step-' fied softly into tho silent parlor, whcro so ately be hnd been. I wns hnlf across the room beforo I noticed I wns not alone, and then, bcforo I could make a hasty retreat, a glad, merry voico', rioh with its golden UiUsio exoluiiuuu," ''My owu dear iiiilo Mrs. Haynes, as I live! How hnppy I nm to see you !" and n hand clasped mine tightly, while a pair of bearded lips woro down to mine. I drew my hcoti bock haughtily. I was a child no longer. I would not accept, even from him, the caresses that ho had bestowed upon me flve yoars before. "Ab, Mr. Haynes," I said, bowing in a dignified woy, "I am pleased to see you." My manner chilled at onco his warm, genial nature. Stepping backward from and rclenaing my hand, bo snid with a curl on his finely cut lips, "Your pardon. Miss Lester, I had quile forgotton that you had grown to be a fine Indy!" I bowed him back a reply, flashing n quiok, impetuous glance upon hiin,os I did so. But there wus no pleasantry attempted on his part, and wben my mother entered the room a few moments nfter, and re¬ ferred, laughingly, to our old engngemcnt, he answered her in a few evasive words, as \ thoagh the subjoot was not an agrceablo one to bim. Affuirs had taken an unhappy turn, but it was too lato to remedy tbem, and Jny after day pnssed away, leaving Mr. Haynes as cold and distant as he hod been from the moment I first repulsed him. I would have given worlds to have recalled my unlucky words, yet, since they wcro spoken, I would ' nnt nnhend a mnmAnt. frnm my oalm, cool dignity, though I was so miaorable and ! wretched as Icould well be, and know that ' Mr. Haynes shared my wretcheduesa. I All the time that I oould spend iu my I chomber, withoat being absolutely rude, ; waa passed there, till roy strange, unusual ' appearance was noticed by my father and ' mother, and my mood commented freely upon before our guest. "You appear su strangely, Phebe," said roy mother onc morning, "I really do not know how lo understand you. I'm afraid that Mr. Iluynea will think that yoa aro not pleased to see him. Kvery ohanoe that I occurs you resolutely avoid him, as though he was thc veriest monster, instead of a ' dear friend. What is the matter ?" I "Nothing. Tho strangeness of my ap- : pearancc ia but a refleotion. I cannot help It. Mr. Haynes hates and despises nie ! now," I said, burying roy tearful eyes in ' my hands. I "Phebe!" My mother's voice was atom and re- proaohful, but I did not hood it. I "Ho does hate me. Mother ! hates me with—" ¦ "Your pardon, little Phebe—Miss Lo- ' st«r, but he does not I" broke in Ihe clear, \ rich voico of Mr. Haynes. "Of all persons \ in the world—" Ho paused, and in a roo- ; ment more I heard my mother step lightly I from the room. "I am not cold, haughty, and proud," II said excitedly, looking up into his faco, I "and I do liko you jast as well—aswell—" j "What, littlo Phebo ?" he aaked eager¬ ly, a quick expression of joy lighting up j his bias eyes. "As well aa I ever did !" I faltered. "And now well ia that ?" So well thtt dnripg all theae weary years you have not ohcriahod a dream of the future tbat did not enoirole me f So well tbatevcry stroog, passionate hopo of your womanly nature has reaohed out oonttaotly to me ? As well as I havo liked, aye, loved you—till every pulse of your heart beats for mo f As woll as tbis,*Phebe f" I oovered my faoe that ho might not read the whole expression pf my lave ip my telltale eyea, aqd be shpokad that it in earneat, Phebe ?" ho asked, drawing me TWO SWALLOWS AT SAORAMEMTO. to my old seat upon his knee. Two swallows, in looking fur a place tu "Yes !" build their nests, discovered a coxy littlo "And will at least wear the ring ?" nook in the rear part of the oabin of tha I held up my flngcr bofore his eyo. I steamer Young America, which waa laying "My own darling little wifo ! at laat my ! moored to tbe old bulk at the foot of K little Mrs. Haynes, in gnod faith I" he ox- i atreet, and forthwith commeneod thair la- olaiuicd, covering my lipa wilh kisses. j bors ; the female flying to nnd fro, carry- That night thero wore ily looks and | ing straw, and aliuks, aud fuathors, and glances cast towards me at evory lurn, and | tho male bird standing like a roastor-work- at the supper table my father quito forgot mon overseeing tbo job, and lending hia himself, and called me "little Mrs. Haynes" aid in placing and oompleting tho tinj: again. homestead. "The flrst day aaw thefoHfli'ii Reader, I have bocn a happy wifo for dation of their home well laid, and tha' some three blessed, sunshiny years, and, bappy birds rested from tbeir labors that as you may hove olready conjectured, "m^ I night, and flniahed it, perhaps, in their name is itaynet," ] dreams. Thencxt morning, bright aod . ——. ,..»¦ . j enrly, tlioy wcro ngain ot work, an busy aa OAREBE OF A RIOH MAN. nnilurs; but, alas! thehourof lOTeii oamo, We have soen it stated lately, upon what the stenmer whistle sounded, and away appears to be reiiablo authority that tho wont the steamer, nest and all, cn route wealth of William B. Aator, of New York, ; for Morysvilje. The frightonod birds ohirp- omounts to ot Ico.Ht forty millions of dol-¦ ed, chnttercd, nnd flow back and forth, lars. It is curious to trnco thia brond, yol- , but Captain Littlnton nover heeded their \ low strenm to ita first beginnings in tho I ory. On went tha boat, opi^ away Wfllti early career of John Jacob Astor, father I their ncw made homo, of the present millionaire. | It was a cloar case of sqaatterism, b|>|{ From a sketoh of thia remarkable man, I thoj wero sensible birds, and knew tha/' whieh nppenrs in a work entitled. "Fifty j would be "plucked" if thoy wont to low, Yoars in both Hemispheres," by 'Vincent , so thoy quietly submitted to their fato,aa4j Nolle, wa Icorn that John Jacob Astor ; after following the steamer as far sa Sad*! ' was born ot Ueidclburg, whero tho origi- I ranicnto bridge, they returned to thc old! nol pomo of his fnmily is said to hnve been hulk. Tbnt was a sad day for tho little Aschlcr, and thai he CSKC 10 New York ' couplo, and whot thoughts crowded on thoir na a furrier's opprentioc. Ho wns" at dmt ¦ UH'" hearts. Uo only knowa who "holdsj time 08 poor as any other apprentice boy, ; tho BirorrC',ri"J,'?." Thejioxt day corao, and then, or now in Ncw York. Tho wages ! with it they saw tho steuiilflr 5£ini9 bao^j hc got at the peltry warehouse lor boating to the landing, and the nest Ihcy hod {tarf-j out nnd preparing various skins, ho inves- ' ly built still undiiturbcd. With mcrryi tcd in tho purcbnso of nll kinds of peltry, chirpinga of delight tlioy began thuir task^; bear, mink and rabbit skins, which he got | ouly to bo again anguished on tho morroWi from tho Indians, who, nt that time, wan- ' by tho departure oftho stoamor, nndglad« derod about tho streols of New York, and doncj on tho succeeding day by ita rpti^n^^j OS soon as he had collected a ccrtnin quan- , Thua it hns continued with th«m for neattj tity, he sent them to the Leipsic fair, Eu- ly a fortnight, nnd tho nest is notcomple-| ; rope. Thore it is stnted, ho traded thcin ted. Tlicy are kept in a constanl fluttori off for Nuroniburg wares, cheap knives, ¦ of hopo and fonr, aud labor and losa; bat] glass beads, and other ortieles adopted to : they do not despair, nor havo they songk^' traffic with tho Indinns on tho Canadian 1 another and moro secure place for tbolr frontiers, nnd took thom himself to tho lat- ' domicile. But strange to sny thoy hara ter points, whcro hc ngnin exchanged thom actually Icorned to rccognizo the stenmer, for furs of vnrious kinds. Ilo often told and watch for hor coming ond meet her ai Mr. Nolle thnt he enrried on this work un- ' the bridge obovo the city, to welcome hei: tiringly, for twelve long yenrs, going in bnck to hor moorings. How it will be when person alternately, to tbo Canadian fron- ; the nest is finished and tho egga arc laid, tiers and then to tho Loipsic fair, nnd liv- ' and thc lime coines for the regulor tripa ed all the while, as hc had been accus-;—whether tho mother will cling to thai tomed to do, humbly nnd sparingly. Aftor homestood and take tho voyage to Marj^L he had thua managed to bring together a ; ville, and tho fother accompany hor, trav- considerable capital, ho gradually become oiling boc'xward ond forwnrd as doatlheads a freighter of ships, and fitted out expedi- j or whether theirs will be "broken op" by tions to thfl north-west coast to trode with the "irreprcsgiblo divorce and desertipp,' the Indians of Nootka Sound for furs. An- as hundreds of other fiiniilics htve beeo in other and very considerable round up tho Colifornin, we shall'wait to seo. The nbove ladder of forluno was taken by Astor in ja a true story. Thoso who can't swallow land speculation. Snme of hie country- ' ..... .-. men owned lnnd in Ncw York by virtue of being relations nnd heirs of German sol¬ diers who had fought in tbo Amerioan ar¬ my in thc Revolntion, and to whom Con- it, may "matoh it and tako it."- mento Bee. ¦Sacra- Curbstone Politics.—On Cbaoge, two or threo days sinoe, one of our noisy Bell- Evoretts wta blowinit lustily for hia can- ^'lyYanrof"Vires7soldi^rrZd'"'''wilhout ^'^'^T' i^^ ^fn^f^^i '<="»('''» 8""" luuiiy u. '".•¦'¦«' =""' '¦ = "'<;>• wiiiiuuj „)„ch in his estimation were snro to go converting tncir properUinto nioney, nnd . ihem \ Astor, after a visit to fteidolberg, mndo | ,.„,,,,,' „„ ^^ „ i„i„, ,,j , r, ,^^, an arrangement with the heirs which was ^^ „ „^ ^^^.^^^ ^^,^^ ^^ £j^ mutually agreeable ; they thinking it bet- ^„,„ ^^^^^^ ^^^ candidatea." ter to have a little rendy cash than to own , ..y^„^ ^.^^J^^ ^^^^^ , j^j^^^,^ ^^^.^ get hnlf n dozen States altogether," return¬ ed the Bcll-Kverett man. 'Look here," toaumed the Republioan, ¦I will bet you a huodred dollart that I a good deal of Innd, the vnlue of which | was very slow in increasing, and ho hav¬ iog tho foresight to onticipote, and tbo i patience to owait results. So tho hoirs i got thoir money, and Astor obtained their j „^„ „,„,„ gfj^^„ g ^^^^ ^ .„ land; some of which is tiow among J" j ,„d then I will bel you five hundred doll^ most valuablo aod most important in tho ; ,.„ „„,„ „,„j j „/ „„„,„ ^^^ .dditional' oity of New York. In this way a fortune | g^„,^ ,h,^ ^j,, ^ f„ U„coIn." I'll Uko those b«U," aaid Bell Bvaratt of twelve millions of dollars was accuuiu lated. The vast interest under the mon- Bgonientof hisson, William B. Astor, Esri. shows that ha inherits the energy nnd busi¬ ness habita of fail father, but affords no such deniunitration of roouey-making ge¬ nius as tho career of John Jacub. Indeed, the latter is reported to have said that it cost him more troublo to make tbo first promptly ; "nuw oame your States." "It will bo timo enough to dn that whw the money is up," replied the Ropublieap.' The money wos pat up. The Republli^< can then named Ihe fifteen alave Statea aa those upon wbioh ho proposed to risk tha hundred dollara, and Alaine, Maasaohn- , , „ ,. „ ,, • J ; 'o'tai New Uampabiro, Vermont and Wit- thousand dollars, than all the remainder k,„„,j,j^,g^^,jjiiip„^, g^tet upon of his fortune. which ho proposed to riak tho Bva haa- "¦ „ «».» - - drtd Bell Everett opened his eyea, gaaa a Tuk MuBi)MH> MrrHODiar ^Mii.J.8- , ^^j,,,, ,„j j,,^>„ „,^,j ',^;fi„ok. MB.-Rev. Mr. Bewly, who was huog in ; '^bout as amiable as a boar before break- Texas by a pro-s avery mob a short tiino , j^^^ ,„j ^^^^ ^.^^jf^ „j,j ,,;„ „ j,,. since, on suspicion of abol.tiomam, tho „„ j^^^ j h„, ,,, ,h ^^ Peno.ylva- Albany Journal tnya will be remembered i ^-^^ ^„„,j ^ ^, ,<,|j ber. toappiahly, that by many who attended the Goneral Cou-, ^^ ,„, ji„„ugted wilh politics, and would ferenee at Buffalo last May. He ropro- i f,,,„i ,,„ „<,, t^ introduce tho subject at sented the Arkansas Conferonco, and was ^^^ diooer table agnin. recognized aa a peaceful, hamble, and de¬ voted evangelist. His views of SInvery woro of the niildeat oharacter, aod ho would be deemed the last man to tbnut bis views offensively—mild and conseijva- tive tho' thoy wore—iipon any community. I Oo hia removal to 'Texas a few mooths leet him, thongh he to me an accurato piotura idoltti^. ¦"¦"ill joabecQiDa Mw. An Impobtamt Quutt—^Tbara ara now more spots on the suo than bavo been teen for many years; some of those are visible thrnugh a smoked glass to tho na¬ ked oye. Sovera! stars—some of them of l-i graat biillianoy, whioh, from their atear* sinoe, ho oarried with bim tattimoniala of j tained distaocr, mutt have been at larga hit humility tud doyolioa fo hit work.— ^ „ qu,. ^q—Jmyj totallr disappeared from But bo was a Methoditt. "Thaf, in Texas, i the aky; and tho question has been raised is deemed tho equivalent of Abolitionism; i »mong astronomem, whether the ligbt and and tho dovoted mroisler of Chiist, pyilty heat of the sun aro gradually fading away, of BO crime, and on the merest suspicion ! At thit would be aeeompanied by tho M- thtl be eheritfaed offentiva opinions, wts | struotion of all tho plants and animalt on hung up like a mwderar 1 | the earth, it is rathor an interesting quea- -r"~ , , '-• ••' ¦ Ition. The sun's light and heat are dimin- Mr A lady wsnt to a oirout not long | j.^.^ ^y tbe dark tpoU at tha present tima ".'""L'^^-7-'."7..""lV'"'?"'!!f*^-l!*- I about one per cent. there. Her oiasslcader waa vei ' embarrasted in findia'ghi mttoH ; Mr Piety and wi«|:«(l)[i>ta 4WHm4^ tngathtr. |
LCCN number | sn86071455, sn86053559, sn86071456, sn86081969 |
FileName | 18601031_001.tif |
Month | 10 |
Day | 31 |
Year | 1860 |
Sequence | 1 |
Page | 1 |
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