Huntingdon Journal

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i he  xluntinffdon   J ournal.
V^OL. 46.
HUNTINGDON, PA., NO VEMBER 22, 1871.
NO. 46.
e Huntingdon Journal.
. DUUBORROW,       -       -       J. A. NASU,
I'LIILISHERS AMI I-UOPIIIETOR.'!.
e on (Ae Corner of Rath and Washington streets.
¦ R HuxTixGDOM .loURSAl. is published cvorv acsday, by J. H. DirnBORROw and J. A. Nasii, r thc lirm name of J. R. Ditrborrow & Co., at per annum, ix AnvAxcE, or $2,50 if not paid i six months from date of subscription, and not paid within thc ycur.
' paper discontinued, unless nt thc option (-f .ubiishers, until all arrearages are paid. )VERTISEMENTS will bo inserted at Tkx •a per line for eaeh oftho first four insertions, FIVE CENTS pcr line for each subsequent inser- less than three months.
gular monthly and yearly advertisements will sorted at thc following rates:
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9 5o'i8 o.) ia ooliio ooiicol 'ocOQieo ou'  80I 100
New Advertisements.
rpo   ADVERTISERS:
eeial notices wili bo inserted at twklve a Lf CENTS per Hnc, and local and editorial i at FIFTEES CENTS pcr liuc. i KesolulioQS of Associations^ Communicatic aitod or individual interest, and notices of M, s and Deaths, exceeding five lines, will Ije j jed TBN CENTS per line. j
gal and otlier notices will be eharged   to   the r having them inserted. j
tVerttsing Agents must find their commission dc 0" theso ligures.
I advertining accountn are due and collectable the advertinenteut it unce inncrted. B PRINTING of evcry kind, in Plain and y Colors, dono with neatness and dispatch.— 1-biUs, Blanks, Cards. Pamphlets. Ac., of every ty and style, printed at the shortest notice, svcry thing in the Printing line will be e.xccu- a the most artistic manner and at thc lowest
Professional Cards.
DENGATE,   Suryeyor,   Warriors¬ mark, Pa. [»pl2,'71.
,     CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law,
• No. Ill, .Id street. Office foraerly occupied Messrs. Woods & Williamson. [npl2,'71.
,R. R. R. WIESTLING,
respectfully offers his professional  services 0 citizens of Huntingdon and vicinity. ioe removed to No. 61S1 IliU street,   (Suith's Dl.tG.) [apr.5,'71-ly.
,R. J. C. FLEMMING   respectfully
offers hia professioual services to the citizens antingdon and vicinity. Office second floor of lingham'a building, on corner of 4th and Hill .t. may24.
,R. D. P.  MILLER, Offiee on  Hill
street, in the room formerly occupied by ohn M'Culloch, Huntingdon, Pa., would res- uUy offer his professional serviees to the citi- of Uuntingdon and vicinity. [jan.4,'71.
,R. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his
professional services to the community, ice, No. 52:1 Washington street, one door east e Catholio Parsonage. [jan.l,'71.
J. GREENE, Dentist.   Office re-
•    moved to Leister's new building. Hill street tingdon. [jan.4,'7].
L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
•    Brown's new building, No. 520,  //ill St., tingdon. Pa. [apl2,'71.
' GLAZIER, Notary Public, corner -• of Washington and Smith streets, Hun- Ion, Pa. [jan.12'71.
C.   MADDEN,   Attorney-at-Law. Office,  No. —, Hill  street, Iluntingdon, [ap.ia,'71.
SYLVANUS BLAIR, Attomey-at-
•    Law, Iluntingdon, Pa.    Offioe, Hill  street, i doors west of Smith. [JBn.4'71.
R. PATTON, Druggist and Apotli-
> ecary, opposite the Exchange Hotel, Hun- Ion, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded. ¦• Liquors for Medicinal purposes.    [nov.2;5,'70.
IIALL MUSSER. Attoruey-at-Law. No. 310 Hill street. [jan.4,'7I.
R.   DURBORROW,   Attorney-at-
•    Latf, Uuntingdon, Pa.,  will practice in the
rai Courts of Iluntingdon  eounty.    Particular
Ition given to the settlement of estates of decc-
.9.
ffioe in Ue Joursal Building.        [fcb.l,'71.
A. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real • Estate Agent, Uuntingdon, Pa., will attend urveying in all its branches. Will also buy, or rent Farms, Houses, and Real Estate of ev- kind, in any part of the United States. iScnd V oiroular. [jan.4'71.
W.   MATTERN,   Attorney-at-Law
•    and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., liers' claims against the Government for  back , bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attond- o with great care and promptness, ffico on Hill street. [jau.4,'71.
^    ALLEN  LOVELL,  Attorney-at-
^« Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Special attention !a to Collectioss of all kinds ; to the scttlc- [t of Estates, .tc.: and all other Legal Business located with fidelity and dispatch. as- Office in room lately occupied by 11. Milton er, Esq. [jan.4,'7).
/TILLER & BUCHANAN, DENTISTS,
Io. 228 um Street,
nCNTINGDON, PA. -pril 5, '71-ly.
THE     UUNTINGDON     JOURNAL.
1' U B L I S H E D
EVERY   AVEDNESDAY    MORNING
J. R. DURBORROW & J. A. NASH.
Offico corner of AVashington and Bath Sts.
HUNTINGDON, PA.
THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM
CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA.
CIRCULATION 1700.
HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE MENTS INSERTED ON REA¬
SONABLE   TERMS.
A    FIRST     CLASS    NEWSPAPER
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION:
$2.00 per    annuui    in    advance.    $2 50
within six months.    $3.00 if not
paid within the year.
-:o:-
/TILES   ZENTMYER,   Attorney-at-
-L Law, Iluntingdon, Pa., will attend promptly .11 logal business. Office in Cunningham's new Iding. [jan.4,'71.
>    M. & M. S.   LYTLE,  Attorneys-
•    at-Law, Uuntingdon, Pa., will attend to kinds of legal business entrusted to their care. Ifficc on tho south side of Hill street, fourth door It of Smith. [jan.4,'71.
>    A.   ORBISON,   Attorney-at-Law,
Va    Offiee, 321 Uill etrect, Uuntingdon. Pa. [may3I,'7I.
IS   SCOTT. S.   T.   BROWS. J.   II.   BAILET
ICOTT, BROWN  &  BAILEY,   At-
'    torneys-at-Law, Iluntingdon, Pa.    Pensions, I all elaiins of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against Government will be promptly prosecuted. Iffioo on Hill street. [jan.4,'71.
'^   W. M YTON, Attorney-at-Law, Hun-
-•    tin»don,Pa.    Offico with J. Sewell Stewart, q. [j«n.4,'71.
T/'ILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-
T at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa. Speoial attention 'en te collections, and all other bgal business .ended to with care and promptness. Offiee, No. a, Uill streot. [npl9,'71.
Miscellaneous,
7»XCHANGE  HOTEL,   Huntingdon.
^    Pa. .lOHN S. MILLER, Proprietor.
January 4, 1871.
^EAR THE EAILBOAD DEPOT,
COK. WAYNE and JUNIATA STREETT
UNITED STATES HOTEL,
HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA. 'CLAIN i CO., PnoPBiETORS. .'ilchlj-tf
JOB PRINTING:   , ALL KINDS OP JOB WORK DONE
yfiTii NEATNESS AND DISPATCH,
AND  IN  THE
LATEST   AND   MOST   IMPROVED STYLE,
SUCH AS
POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIRCULARS,
BUSINESS CARDS, WEDDING AND VISITING CARDS, BALL TICKETS,
PROGRAMMES,
CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS, SEGAR LABELS,
BECEIPTS,
LEGAL BLANKS, PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS, BILL HEADS,
LETTER HEADS,
PAMPHLETS, PAPER BOOKS, ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC.,
rjOBT. KING, Merehant Taylor, 412
Lli   Washington street, Huntingdon,'Pa., a lib- Til share of patronage respectfully solioited. April 12, 1S7I.
r EAVISTOWN BOILER AVORKS.
L^ SNYDER, WEIDNER 4 CO.. Manufae- irera of Locomotiveand Stationary Boilers. Tanks, ipes, Filling-Barrows for Furnaces, and Sheet ron Work of every description. Works on Logan reet, Lewistown, Pa.
AU orders rr-nitly attended to. Repairing sD« at thort noiiM^ [Apr S,'71,Iy.*
®k ^nm' §mu.
The True Woman.
Her name sliiiios not in bannered field, Where Right and Wrong so boldly war;
Nor rings her voice in any causo Which men and women'buttle for ;
Yet in her presence, subtle sweet,
Yoa long to knee and kiss her foet.
No wonderou.^ romance wreathes her life ;
Nor hath she led a. martyr train ; Nor boautiful nor rich is she,
Eut poor—and some would call her plaiu ; Y^t in your two dear eyes you see A beautv shining constantly.
No silken robe enfolds her form ;
No dainty leisure bath her hands ; Iler jewels arc a simple ring;
A ribbon binds her   hairs' smooth bands ; \"et in her garment's simple grace Her soul's regality you trace.
Xo gift hath she to shake nnd thrill I
A thankless world with warbled   songs ;
And art that wakes the ivory keys To other hands than hers   belongs :
Y'et in her words of tender cheer
.\ richer music charms the ear.
She walks in humble ways of life
Thatlead at times thro' gloom and shade; And cares and crosses, not a few
.\re on her patient shoulders laid, Y'et smiles and drinks each bitter cup, .\nd keeps her brave eyes lifted up.
And homely ways she wreathes with grace, Harsh duty turns to loving zest;
And cheery bope and steadfast will Are at her side, in work and rest;
Y^et never dreams ehe you can spy
The angel looking from her eye I
^ht ^Ux^-Wkx.
Our facilities for doing all kinds of Job Printing superior to any other establish¬ ment in the county. Orders by mail promptly filled. All Ictttrs should be ad¬ dressed,
J. R. DURBORROW & CO.
BY   F.  W.  DRUM.MOSD.
 UK	
The stranger who now passes through Bottle HiU will find little there to preposs- cs him in its favor as a place of residence. Of the many buildings which it boasted in tho da3'S of its prosperity, only two remain, and they are in a pitiably decayed and rickety condition. Three or four woc-bc- gnne-looking Celestials inhabit the larger ofthe two buildings; tho other is the ex¬ clusive habitation of an honest Teuton, who answers only to the appellation of Jake. Once he called himsolf Jake Shel- back, but it has been so long since he has heard tbe last title employed that be has aluiost urgotten that he ever owned it.
On the rude porch in front of either of these dwellings may be seen a row ofgum boots, long ago superanuated and dismiss¬ ed from service. On a warm day, at suit¬ able hours, the representatives of China and Germany appear on these porches to sun themselves and to meditate, it is pre¬ sumed, on the uncertainty of human affairs.
But Bottlo Hill presented quite a dif¬ ferent appearance twenty years ago. Then it was in the full tide of prosperity. Its one long street was lined with buildings, in which nearly every imaginable kind of business was carried on with vigor and success. Its mines were among the moun¬ tains ; it ealled itself a town, and fancied it might some day become a city.
At the time mentioned in the beginning of the last paragraph, tbe Bottlu Hillites. though proud of themsel ves and their town in every way, were more than any thing else proud of the presence in their midst of Ruth Horton, the daughter of the rough Missouri landlord of the Bottle Hill Hotel. Nor is this mucb to be wondered at, con¬ sidering how very scarce women were just then in that portion of the mines, and con¬ sidering also that it would be a hard mat¬ ter even now to find another girl in the State as lovely and loveable as was Ruth, tbe hard-featured Missourian's ouly daugh¬ ter.
Her beauty was not of the dazzling kind. She was neither a regal brunette nor a stately blonde, but a slight, gracefully formed girl with faintly flushed cheeks, blue eyes, and wavy brown hair tbat gen¬ erally fell clustering around her neek and shoulders. Nature had given to her gen¬ tleness, innocence and beauty of euch a sort that one could only compare her to a wild mountain rose ; and her life should have been one of equal quietude and se- cltuion, but fate seemed to have willed otherwise in placing her among the wild scenes and rude associations of the mines.
It was strange that the union of two persons like her father and mother, equally coarse in body and mind, should have pro¬ duced a being so lovely in person, and so pure, refined and gentle in thought and aciion. Yet it was so—one of the myste¬ ries in which Nature seemingly delights.
Ruth's father, Old Bob—the boys around Bottle Hill never dreamed of designating him any other way—had not failed to fake into consideration Ruth and her lovely face when he debated within himself the propriety of engaging in the hotel busi¬ ness. Nor did he over-estimate the advan¬ tage to be derived from her presence. Her fame went far and wide through the mines, and many a rough, red-shirted, and fierce¬ ly bc-whiskered miner renounced his bach¬ elor life and the homely comforts which his cabin afforded, that he might occasion¬ ally see and hear one whose presence re¬ minded him of tho better and brighter daj-s of his own life. Many a one, too, far away from the Hill hearil of Ruth, and made a toilsome day's journey over rough mountain-trail merely to see once more the face of a young and beautiful woman.— Thus his daughter's presence was a mine of wealth to Old Bob.
Though tbere was probably not one of the seven or eight hundred stalwart miners in and around the Hill who did not intense¬ ly admire Ruth, there were few who expe¬ rienced any warmer feeling. Rude and uncultured as many of them were, they had discernment enough to sec that sho was a being different, in every respect, from themselves, whose love none of them could ever hope to win.
So thought tbe most of them ; but there were a few exceptions to the general rule, and two individuals were especially promi¬ nent as suitors for her hand.
It was a still, pleasant evening in Au¬ gust. The sun had gone down behind the snow-clad summit peaks, and only the chan¬ ging hues along the western sky bore wit¬ ness to his power. The canons and ravines were already thickly curtained with shad¬ ows ; but thc crest of each ridge and the slopes of eaeh distant peak were distinctly visible in the strong though waning light. Harry Vert, walking rapidly along the trail that led from his claim to Bottle Hill, thought he had never witnessed a more beautiful sight. Crossing tho head of a little hollow, whore a cool spring broke forth and gurgled through willows and al¬ ders on its downward course, he paused for a moment and looked around at the fast fading scene. A moment spent in this contemplation, and he stepped forward again, but started back as he passed around tho clump of bushes a few steps beyond.
Not a start of fear, ho'vever ; rather one of surprise and pleasure; for the vision before him w;is more calculated to inspire the latter emotion than the former. Only a slight, graceful form leaning against thc trunk of a friendly yew, with a pair of white, rounded arms up-raided to pull down the berry-laden boughs, till the red berries were thickly mingled with the brown, wa¬ vy hair, and dark green leaves h.ilf hid the dreauiy blue eyes and the sweet pensive face.
"Iiarry I"
"Ruth :"
Not a word more, just then, and perhaps there was no need for words. The white hands are no longer at liberty to toy with boys, and the blue eyes timidly upraised, meet the impassioned glance of a p;ir of much darker ones Tho lonely owl, hoot¬ ing solemnly from ymidcr pine, evidently sees much that ho disapproves of, for his voicings assume u robuking tone, and so loud withal that all the slumbering echoes on the hill-side are startled into activity. At last the silence is broken.
'How came you here, Ruth ? I did not expect to meet you."
'•I know you did not, fir I have never bcon this far up tbe trail before; but I wanted to see you and speak to you quite alone."
A startled expression stole into the blue eyes as she spoke, and her face grew paler.
'¦What is the matter, Ruth ? Has any¬ thing occurred to disturb you ?"
''Harry, you must give me up."
"Give you up I Not till I give up my life as well."
"You don't know tbe full meaning of your words now; but I am afraid you will. Big Tom "
"AVhat of him ?"
"Ho was in to ceefathcir this afternoon, and they had a long talk together, all about mc. You know that Big Tom; that he loves me, or says he does; and, 0, Harry ! I am ashamed to think of it, but father favors him, and has done so for a long time."
"He shall never marry you. Have no fear, Ruth ; I will protect you."
'•I kuow you would with your life, Har¬ ry ; but he is a desperado and a murderer. He has already killed three men in the mines, and care-> nothing for blood. Every one on the Hill fears him. He could not force me to marry hiai, but it is nearly the same thing, for he has sworn to marry me, and he will kill father if he doci not con¬ sent, and you, ifyou stand in his way."
"Better that we should both perish than that you should become the wife of sueh a man. But come, Ruth, it is nearly d.ark, and we must walk toward the Hill. AA'e can talk further of this matter as we go. Be true to yourself and to me, and all may yet be well."
For a few seconds only he retained her in his embrace, pressing reassuring kisses upon her pale lips, and whispering words of encouragement and consolation. Then they hastened on through the fast falling shadows along the narrow winding trail.
An hour later, Ruth, paler than ever, and trembling with apprehension, stood in the presence of Big Tom. Ue was worthy | of his name; a florid-faced, red-bearded giant, six feot six inches in his stockings, and aii muscular, yot quiek of movement, as any gladiator may have been in the good old times. In the red sash, which he never failed to wear.around his waist, the handles of both revolver and bowie knife were plainly visible. It was evident that he was in no mood to be trifled with. There was a fierce light in his eyes, and his face looked flushed and passionate.
lie had demanded the interview, and Ruth Wits not able to avoid it. It was sooner than she had wished, but she saw no other alternative than to refuse him at onee, let the consequences be what they might.
Her father, undor the mingled influence of avarice and fear—for Big Tom had ap¬ pealed to both—had been almost agonized in his entreaties to her to yield, and save himself as well as Vert from the fate which he said was sure to await whoever crossed the path of Big Tom. But the last words of Harry had prevailed, and she resolved to dare the worst.
Big Tom waa not the man to mince mat¬ ters, so he eame to the point at ones.
" 'Taint no use talkin' spoony to you girl; and I'm not one of the smooth¬ tongued kind myself. AVe understand one another well enough, though. I love you, and I intend to marry you. Old Bob says I can have jou, and I s'pose he ought to know. If you want to marry me I'll make you a good husband. You'll never regret it. I've come here to-night for your tinal answer; remember that life and death hangs on what you say, girl."
It was a trying moment to Ruth. Three or four times she essayed to speak before she was able to utter the simple words:
"No I I can never marry you !"
The leaning, motionless giant started into furious life at once. The sinewy arms came down from their position on the mas¬ sive che»t, and her aised one hand fiercely above his head as he strode toward her.
"That'll do !" I've seen euough of wo¬ men to know when one means what she says, and thafs your fix now. You hate me, and love A'^ert. Don't try to deny it. I saw you in his arms when you met to¬ night on the trail. I might have killed him then, but I thought you would marry me when you knew what I had sworn to do if you didn't. I didn't expect to be refused this time; but it makes me clear in my mind about him."
Ho brought his hand down from above his head, and held it before her eyes.
"Do you see that hand, girl'/ Tt:ey say around here there's plenty of blood on it already; but when you see it again, re¬ member there's blood on it that you helped to put there."
"Spare him ! spare him!"
"Never! You could have saved him only by marrying me. I've got an old grudge against him that helps to swell the devil that's rising in my heart ag'in him. Never mind crying now: you'll want all your tears when you see him to-morrow."
AA'ith this parting taunt the infuriated dcperado flung away her beseeching hands and rushed from the room. She hastened to the window and looked out. Presently she saw him pass, not in the direction of the noisy gambling saloons where he night¬ ly resorted, but away from the town out into the obseurity of the forest.
The thought flashed into her mind that he was going in search of his rival. Harry lived in a cabin near his claim, at a dis¬ tance of more than a mile from the Hill. She knew that Big Tom would find him there, for he had told her that he intended returning home at an early hour. Though he expected to meet Big 'Tom and fight for his life, neither himself or Ruth had dreamed that the issue would be forced be¬ fere at least another day bad elapsed. Harry knowing nothing of the interview which had just taken plaee. Big Tom would be likely to find him unprepared, and then
his fate would be certain. A few seconds sufiiced for these reflections. Only mur¬ muring to herself, "I must save him," she passed out at the open door and walked swiftly toward the forest.
Ruth knew but little afterward of the manner in which she found her way that night; but find it she did, until at last, panting and trembling with mingled fear and joy, she crossed a deep, bushy ravine, and saw at a littic distance a light shining from the window of a cabin, which she knew was Harry's. Something rustled for a moment in the bushes, and then she caught a glimpse of some indistinct, dark moving form on the other side of the ra¬ vine. Fear lent wings to her feet, and in a moment more she was in Harry's arms, with ju.st strength enough to exclaim, ''Be¬ ware of Big Tom; he is coming I" before she closed lier eyes in a swoon.
Pistol in hand, Iiarry watched over her until she returned to consciousness, and explained her sudden appearance. Still no one came. Hour after hour passed away, and still they sat clasped in each other's arms, w.itching, waiting, and hoping that the words of tenderness and love they then whispered might nut be the last they should ever speak. Not long after, exhausted nature gave way, and Ruth, leaning her head on his breast, slept like a weary child; Harry clasping her to his bosom with one hand, while the other never left, the handle of his revolver, and awaited the approach of one whose vindictive and relentness spirit made him more to be feared than the sav¬ age denizen ofthe forest. But the night passed away, and the gray light of morning stole over the hills; and still there were no signs of Big Tom.
At last, when the sun had risen high enongh to peer througii the pines on the eastern side of the ridge, a man came into view whose long and rapid strides soon brought him to the doorof tbe cabin. But it was not Big Tom—only Spanish Joe, who, with a face stamped with horror, and so eager to deliver some great news, that he failed to notice the presence of Ruth, and cried out:
'•Big Tom is lying dead down there in the trail—torn nearly to pieces by agrizzlyl"
It was even so. The same mysterious fate which had guided Ruth in safety past the shaggy monster had brought Big 'Tom in direct contact with him. From the point where Ruth, like one in a frightful dream, she saw and knew what it was in the trail along which she had just passed, the grizzly proceeded some hundred yards before Big Tom encountered him. In his blind haste for revenge, through tbe dark¬ ness of the night, the man had stumbled over thc scarcely more savage brute, and a desperate conflict ensued. Big Tom, as Spanish Joe said, was torn nearly to pieces, but he did not die unavenged. His revol¬ ver and bowie knife did good work, though not speedily enough to save his own life, and fhe grizzly was found dead only a, few hundred yards from the seene of the strug¬ gle.
Ruth and Harry was married a few weeks afterward, and in a few months more h-> sold his claim and removed to the East, where he still liveg with the wife of whom he has never eeased to be prond since that eventful night.
The last time I saw Big Tom's grave it was nearly hidden from view by ranh veg¬ etation. All who knew his story have left the vicinity, and not even the rudest head¬ board is there to tell the stranger who it is that slumbers there forgotten and alone.
§m&m^ Ux fh^ piJiictt.
An Editor in Heaven- Apropos to an article going the rounds ander the  above  heading,  an   exchange presents the following legend :
Once upon a time after the demise of one of the corps editorial, he presented himself at the gate of the Golden city, and requested admission. The door keeper asked him what had been his occupation while on terra firma f He replied he had been an editor.
"AVell," said the watchman, "we have a crowd ofyour kind here now, and they all came in as 'dead heads.' If you pay your passage you can come is ; if not, you must place yourself under the control of a personage you ruled tyranically down below,—meaning tho devil.
Not having the wherewith to go in, our brother of the quill and scissors posted off, and presented himself at the entrance of Clootie's dark domains. A very dark- complexioned gentlemen stood sentry, and asked in a gruff voice, 'who comes V
"An humble disciple of Faust," was the calm reply.
"Then hold on, you can't be admitted," exclaimed the gentleman in black evincing considerable agitation, and fiercely scowl¬ ing upon him.
"AVhy not?" demanded the typo,who began to get some huffish, and looke i around for a 'sheep's foot' with which to force an entrance.
"Well, sir," replied his sable majesty, we let one of your profession in here many years ago, and he kept up a continual row with his former delinquent subseribers, and we have more of that class here than any other, we have passed a law prohibit¬ ing the admission of any editors, only those who have advanced our interest in their papers on earth, and even those we keep in a separate room by themselves. You have published many things opeoating against us, and always blamed thc devil with everything that went wrong, so you cannot come in. AA'e enforce this law with¬ out respect to persons, for our own peace and safety.    Now travel!
Casting a droll tear on thc outside sentinel our typographical friend started again, de¬ termined to get abovo. This time he took with him an old file of paper, and present¬ ing it to the guardiansof the celestial city, requested that it might be carefully examin¬ ed, aud they could see whether be was en¬ titled to a free ticket. In due course oftime the conductor came along and took him in telling him that he had been a martyr to the cause of human improvement, and that resolutions had been passed to admit all members of the art perservative who had abused the 'devil,' all their future punishment is commuted. He further stated that not one delinquent newspaper subscriber could be found in Heaven.
®lj^ mmm giAUs
Power of the Press.—I love to hear the rumbling of the steam power press better than tbe roar of artillery. It is si¬ lently attacking and vanquishing the Ma- lakofl's of vice and the Redans of evil ; and its parallels and approaches cannot be re¬ sisted. I like the click of the type in the composing stick of the compositor, better than thc click of the musket in tho hand of the soldier. It bears a leaden messen¬ ger of deadlier power, of sublimer force, and of a surer aim, which will hit its mark, though it is a thousand years ahead !—Clta- pin.
The Elevation of Women.
Although we arc not among the num¬ ber of those who are anxious to confer up¬ on women the usual political rights and privileges wielded by men, we are of the opinion that the agitation in favor of the elevation of the sex will do good in ob¬ taining for them a better reward for the work they do, and in opening to them many pursuits in life which have been for ages closed agaiust them.. Indeed, the movement in that way has already made very great progress, and we have wonien lecturers, artists, designers, sculptors, phy¬ sicians and directors of public institutions, as well as Postmasters, Treasury clerks, kc In London, several ladies have been elected members of the new School Board, and a general effort has been made in many places to enlarge the sphere of female use¬ fulness, by rendering them eligible as school directors and controllers. As they make admirable teachers of the public schools we can sec no earthly reason why tbey would not answer just a» well as di¬ rectors and controllers ofthe same schools. Indeed we think that if we had a few en¬ lightened, high-minded ladies of this city in the school boards there would be a de¬ cided improvement in the course of man¬ agement. There would bo kss favoritism in the selection of female teachers. There would be less jobbing inthe purchase of property and giving out of contracts, and the accounts would be rather more narrow¬ ly watched.
AA'hen this matter was pending at the last session of the legislature, we were in hapes that the change would be adopted. AVe fancy the influences brought to bear against the measure were rather personal than partisan. But it seems rather odd that we should be behind England in a reform of this kind. Women are prop¬ erty owners, taxpayers, heads of families, managers of business, and if the fathers are interested in the education of their children, most assuredly the mothers are equally so. And if a childless man can be a good school director, why cauuot a child¬ less woman ?
It is worthy of notice that the trade conventions are gradually recognizing the equality of the rights of females with the male operatives. In the line of author¬ ship the wonien have become so numerous by prolific as to threaten to monopolize cer¬ tain walks of literature. In London and Paris the female painters and sculptors are qnite numerous and conspicuous. In our own country we have also produced a female astronomer.
In the great walks of commerce and finance they venture rather slowly and timidly, mainly as some critics allege, be¬ cause the structure of their minds is not favorable to laborious and long-continued application and mathematical accuracy in details. But this, though true to a great degree, arises only fiom the absence of responsibility; and in all eases where women are made responsible in business fur any length of time they develope the same taculties as the men, though not the same high strung regard for principles. Philadelphia, from her Quaker origin, con¬ tains more friends of tho woman's lights movement than can be found elsewhere, but they take a practical view of affairs, and seek to provide employment for women rather than to contend for offices and suf¬ frage for t)iei-i. It is somewhat odd to see the exient to which New England and New yov)i. are carrying this movement, which is wholly of Quaker origin, like tbe opposition to slavery. But all these efforts make a great deal more noise there than here. No one to look superficially at New England and Pennsylvania would think that the woman's elevation movement orig¬ inated here, and that we have had a Wo¬ man's Medical College for a whole gen¬ eration past, that we have a Woman's Hos¬ pital, a female school of design, a working woman's boarding-house, and that a ma¬ jority ofour publio charities are managed chiefly by women.—Exehange.
To Her Who will Understand It.
"Send me a word to comfort me for the death of my baby," writes a broken¬ hearted mother to me.
My dear friend, I might tell you that there are thousands of childless mothers all over the land, who, like you, are looking for comfort here and. there, and find none; but that would not help you. I might tell you, too, that ifyou kuew all the sorrowful histories that have been told me by tongue and pen, for manyyears. you would have been glad that your baby is gone where thero is "no more pain ;" but that would not causo you to shed one tear the less, or keep yuu from feeling that your sorrow was harder to bear than theirs. I could tell you that God is good even in this affliction, but your vision is so dimmed that time only can enable you to see it. It is because I know that nature must have its way, or you could not live and bear it, that I can only say to you now, I am so sorry for you. I know just now you go about, listening for the littie appeal¬ ing cry that you may nevermore hear; touching listlessly the little useless clothes that you fashioned, with your heart so full of love aud hope. I too have done all this. I have lain with my cheek eloso to the grass upon my baby's grave, lest she should be lonely without me, though I knew she was not there. And yet I have tried to thank Him who took her so early, that the storms of life which afterwards overtook me, did not burst over her little head. So, as I say, I shall not reason with you now fur that were worse than useless. I only reach out my woman's hand, and clasp yours in sympathy, although we never may meet in this world.
But oue thing I know, that in thc other world your baby and mine will know us —their mothers, else God were not God. By the strong love that came with them, this must be ; we could not be so cruelly mocked if this were to be the end.
Now, do not sit down and brood over your grief, if you ean help it. Do not close your blinds and shut out the sunshine. Let it warm jou, though your babjr is cold. You would rather have felt its little warm clasp even for that brief time, tban not to have known the bliss of motherhood, would you not ? Well, then, warm your poor heart with that bit of comfort. Now there is a ladder reaching up to Heaven, only seen by you, only used by you. Heaven is not now, to you, the misty land it used to be. You see il clearly. By and by you will here its music, snd one little voice your mother's ear will detect; and none who see the peace which illuminates your face will know wherefore, save "Him whu doeth all things well." And so, with my love, I leave you.
@k giokf^' §«il0rt
Mixed Up.
I've wandered through tlie village, Tom,
Along with .\una Lee, To listen to the mocking bird,
In the cottage by the sea. Reid's bay mare car.'t be heat
While coming through the rye ; Let me kiss him for his mother,
Says the spider to the fly.
The colored girls and poor old Ned,
Xow swell our National song, I'd offer thee this hand of mine—
But take  your time 5Us3 Long. I'm lonely since my mother uied—
Susanna don't you cry; We're all nodding through the world,
Then root hog, or die.
Hark ! I hear the angel singing,
Ah ! daddy, he's struck ilc,— We're coming Farther Abraham,
Along with Annie Lyle. The song my mother used to sing,
The wearing ofthe green— The girl I left behind me,
To-dav is sweet sixteen.
W&t gom? €m\t.
Fanny Fern.
Wool delaines are popular.
A Racy Examination.
Tho following racy examination of can¬ didates for admission to the bar is taken from the Western Law Journal, and is de¬ cidedly a good hit:
The examination commenced with,
"Du you smoke, sir ?"
"I do, sir."
"Have you a spare cigar ?"
"Yes, sir;" (extending a short six.)
"Now, sir, what is the first duty of a lawyer ?"
'¦To collect fees."
"Iligbt.    AA'hat is the second ?"
"To increase tho number ;f his clients."
'•AVhen does the position towards your client change'/"
"When making out a bill of costs."
"Explain."
"We then copy the antagonistic position —I assume thc plaintiff and he becomes defendant."
"A suit decided, how dn you stand with the Liwyer conducting the other bill ?"
"Cheek by jowl."
"Enough, sir; you promise to become an ornament to your profession, and I wish you success. Now are you aware of the duty you owe me ';"'
"Perfectly."
"Describe it."
"It is to invite you to drink."
"But suppose I decline '/"
(Candidate, scratching his head.)
"Tbere is no instance of the kind on re¬ cord in the books. I cannot answer the question.''
"A'ou are right; and the confidence with whieh J-ou make the assertion shows that you have read law attentively. Let's take a drink, and I will sign your certificate."
 ——g—,«   «-	
Taming of the Bridegroom.
Mr. Spillmau had just married a second wife. On the day after tho wedding Mr. S. remarked:
"T intond   Mra   SplllmTin, t-, cn largo my
dairy."
"Vou mean our dairy, my dear," replied Mrs Spillman.
"No," quoth Mr. Spillman, "I iutend to enlarge my dairy."
"Say our dairy." Mr. Spillman."
"No, my dairy."
'Say our dairy, say our—," screamed she, seizing tho poker.
'¦My dairy ! my dairy !" yelled the hus¬ band.
"Our dairy ! our dairy ! screeched the wife, emphasizing each word with a blow on the back of her cringing spouse.
Mr. Spillman retreated under the bed. In passing under the bedclothes his hat was blushed off. He remained under cover for several minutes, waiting for a lull in the storm. At last his wife saw him thrust¬ ing his head out at the foot of the bed, much like a turtle from its shell.
"What are you looking for ?" exclaimed the ludy.
"I imi looking for our h.it, my dear, says he.
A Constable's Troubles.
A few days ago, at North Adams, JIass., tho State constable seized a jar of rum and arrested the party in whose possession it was fuund, for selling liquor. Thc exam¬ ination before a district judge came on, when the constable, after being sworn, tes¬ tified that he seized the liquor. The at- terney for the prisoner asked him if he knew it was liquor.    lie replied :
'¦Yes, it was rum.    I drank some of it."
The prisoner, a woman, was called.
"Did you havc any liquor iu your houso when the State constable called there ?"
"Yes, I had some in a jar."
"How long had you it V
"About six months."
"Did you have it for sale ?"
'•Oh, no; I don't sell liquor "
"What du you keep this rum for?"
"I keep it to wash the baby."
Had you ever washed the baby in this rum 'i"
"Oh, yes, often I I used to turn the rum out in a dish, wash the baby in it and then turn it baek into the jar."
'There was laughter in court, and the State constable declared he would seize no more liquor ke pt in a jar.
   ¦»   *-	
A little five-year-old boy was being instructed in morals by his grandmother. The old lady told him that all such terms as "by golly," '¦by jingo," "by thunder," &c., were only little oaths and but little better than other profanity. In fact, she •aid, you could tell a profane oath by the prefix "by." All such were oaths. "'SA'ell, then, grandmother," said the little hope¬ ful, "is 'by telegraph,' which I see in the newspapers, swearing ?" "No," said the old lady, "that's only lying."
A MAN who had just bought a new watch of a dealer was wondering how he should know if it run exactly right: "Oh," said the salesman, who was an Irishman, "I'll write you the exact time every Mon¬ day noon and thin you can set your watch by my letter."
 ¦•—-»¦-•	
A SON of Erin, just arrived in tbis land of plenty, being in want, was told, by a person to whom he applied for aid, to go to h—1, generally considered a very warm region. '-Civility, indadc," said Pat, "to invite me to your father's house."
  ^       M        »        	
A QU.\URELSOME couplc Were discussing the subject of cpitaph.s and tombstones, and tbc husband said, "5Iy de.ir what kind of a stone do ynu suppose they will give nie when I die ?" "Brirastone, my love '." was the affectionate reply.
 <    —    »     	
Let a young woman take the degree of A. B., that is, a bride, and she may hope in due time to bo entitled to that of A. M.
The Great   Hereafter.
Tis sweet to think, when struggling
The goal of life to win, Thatjust beyond the shores oftime The better years begin.
When through the nameless agea
I cast my longing eyes, Before me, like a boundless sea,
The great hereafter lies.
Along its brimming bosom
Perpetual summer smiles, And gathers like a golden robe
Around the emerald isles.
Then, in the blue, long distance,       •
By lulling breezes fanned, I seem, to see the flowing groves
Of old Beulah's land.
And far beyond the islands, That gem the woves serene,
The image ofthe cloudless shore Of holy heaven is seen.
Uuto the great Hereafter— Aforetime dim and dark—
I freely now and glady give Of Ufe the wandering bark.
And in the far off heaven,
When shadowy seas are passed,
By angel's hands its quivering soils Shall all be furled at last.
Energy Added to Faith.
The right balance of the Christian gi-aces, that no one grace shall be dwarfed or parverted by the unaeriptural develop¬ ment of others, is greatly to be desired, especially in our day, when piety takes on such difl'erent modes of manifestation. En¬ tire symmetry of Christian character, in which each grace holds its true place and al! exhibit a proportionate completeness, is a raro attainment, and as difficult as rare. As an aid to this end is the scrip¬ tural injunction, "Add to your faith vir¬ tue."
Faith is the foundation of true Chris¬ tian character. It is as essential as the corner stone to a house ; and this is be¬ cause by it we are brougu'L>nto union with Christ; and secure the indwelling "i,f It? Holy Spirit. AA'ithout the living union, "the fruits of the Spirit" can have no de¬ velopment, as they have no starting point; with it all benefits of Christ's redemptive work may in time become ours.
This faith, the corner-stone of the Chris¬ tian edifiee in the heart of every true be¬ liever, is far more than a mere intellectcal assent to the truth relating to Christ; it joins with this assent of the understanding a hearty embracing of Christ in all his offices as just what the sinful man needs, and easts itself upon him as its only and all-sufficient Savior. Such a faith subor¬ dinates the whole being,—will, affections and active powers—to the will of Christ. It makes the realities ofthe eternal world present verities, and leads the Christian to aet as ".seeing the invisible." It sinks the world with its motives and claims and pleasures into their due insignificance and gives spiritual and divine things their proper prominence. On such a basis Chris¬ tian charneter m.ty be builded; out ofsuch a symmetrical cluster of graces may spring and bloom and mature.
A'et faith without works is dead. Mere abstract trust in God, however absorbing and profound, is of little avail, and may be perverted by the yet unsanctified nature into a blind and dreamy mysticism. Hence, says the precept, "Add to your faith vir¬ tue." that manly energy which will go fjrth in active work for Christ.
"Action, not thought, isa being'shighest end," and he that will follow Christ, must, like Him, go abnut and do good. God is ever active, and in world-making and world-governing "worked hitherto." Christ incarnate was ceaseless in his activities; the early disciples rested not in the diffu¬ sion of his salvation ; nor should any be¬ liever fail to work in His vineyard. The addition of this manly energy to living man is es.sential to tbe beginning of a sym¬ metrical Christian character.
A Story for Boys.
Two country lads came at an early hour to a market town, and arranging their lit¬ tlo stands, sat down to wait tbr customers. One was furnished with fruits and vege¬ tables ofthe boy's own raising, and the other with clams and fish, 'lhe market hours pas.sed along and each little merchant saw his store steadily decreasing and an equivalent in silver bits, shining in his lit¬ tle money cup. The last melon lay on Harry's stand, when a gentleman came by, and placing his hand upon it said, "What a fine large melon I AVhat do you.ask for it, my boy'!"
"The melon is the last I have, sir; and though it looks very fair, there is an un¬ sound spot in it," said the boy, turning it over.
"So there is, I think I will not take it. But," he added, looking into the boy's fine, open countenance, "is itnot very un- business-like to point out the defects of your goods to customers '/"
"It Is Detter tnan Dcing dishonest, sir," said thc boy, modestly.
"You are right, little fellow; always re¬ member that principle, and you will find favor with God and man also; I shall re¬ member your little stand in future. Are these clams fresh ?" he continued, turn¬ ing to Ben. AA'ilson's stand.
"Yes, sir, fresh this morning, I caught them myself," was the reply, and a pur¬ chase being made, the gentleman went away.
"Harry, what a fool you wore to show the gentleman that spot in the melon I Now you can take it home for your ^Ktins, or throw it away. How much wiser is he ab:ut those clams I caught yesterday ? Sold thom for the same price as I did the fresh ones. He would never have looked at tho melon until he had gone aw»y."
"Ben, I would not tell a lie or act one either, for twice what I have earned this morning. Besides I shall be better off in the end. for I have gained a customer, and yeu have lost one."
And so it proved, for tho next day the gentleman bought nearly all his fruits and vegetables of Harry, constantly patronized him, and sometimes talked with him a few minutes about his future prospects. To become a merchant was Harry's great am¬ bition, and wheu winter eame on, the gen¬ tleman, wanting a trusty boy for his ware¬ house, decided on giving tha place to Harry. Steadily and surely he advanced in tho confidence of his employer, until having passed throngh various posts of serviee, he beeame at length an honored partner in the firm.
 —   <¦   »	
Says a distinguished student of human nature: I dou't believe in bad luck being set for a man, like a trap; but I have kuown lots of folks who, if there is any first-rate bad luck lying around loose, would be sure to get their foot into it anyhow !