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|0iriEl "I SEE NO Stab above the horizon, pROJiisiNa light to odidb us, but the intellioent, patriotic, united Wuio Pabty or the United States."—[Webster. BY WM. BREWSTER. HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1854 VOL. 19. NO. 36. TERMS : The "HcsiiNODON Journal" is published at (be following rates i If pnid in advance $t,tiO If paid withiii six months after thc time of subscrihing 1,75 If paid at the ond of the year 2,00 And two dollars nnd fifty cents if not pnid till «fter the expiration of the year. No subscription will bo tnkou for a loss period thnn six months, and nopnper willbe disconti'iued,except nt the ¦option of thc Editor, until allanenrnges arc pnid. Subscribers living indistunt counties,or in other flutes, will be required to pay invariably in advnnce. ^f The nbovo terras will be rigidly adhered to iu all cases. ADTERTIslEnEIVTS Will bc charged nt the following rnles: 1 insertion. 2 do. .1 do. Six lines or less. S 25 $ 37J S .',0 One square, (1(1 lines,) .W 75 1 Ol) Two " (32 " ) I 00 1 51) 2 00 Three " (48 " ) 1 50 2 25 3 00 Bnsiness men ndvertising by the Qunrler, Half Year or Year, will be charged tbe following rntes: Onc sqnnre. Two squnres. Three squnros. Four squares. Five squares. Ton squnres. Business Card year, $4 00. 3 mo. $3 00 ft 00 7 50 9 00 15 00 25 00 6 mo. $5 00 8 00 10 00 14 00 25 Ol) 40 00 not excocdiug si.x 12 nio. $8 00 12 00 15 00 23 00 38 00 60 00 ines, one JOB WORK: i itiee! handbills, .30 copies or Ic^s, $1 25 } " '• " " " 1 .50 J " " " " '¦ 2 .50 1 " " " '• " 4 00 Ui.AXKs, foolscap or loss, per single quire, 1 50 ** *- 4 or more quires, pcr *• 1 00 ^y Extrn cbiirgcs will bo made fur heavy composition. {^ All lotlors on busincss must be I'Ost r.iiu to secure nllention. ..ffS rProin Ibo Philadolphia Sun. THE HEROES OF SEVENTY-SIX. BV WII.I.HM VII.I.I.V.MS, M. II. Bund of iuimorUl men I Hearts oflhe bravo and free I firmly ye stood up, when The ilie at your liberty, .\iaied well a deadly blow. With a lyraiil's bloody hand. Shrouding iu gloom and woe Your hearlh-stoues und your land I Hurn by the dying brave. Pouring out llieir blood to save, Ve saw your banner proudly wavo Whore the wui- stonn burst I .'.nd where the siibi'o strukc. Clnshod mid llic buttle sniukc. Fell the tyrni.t's irun yuku Shattered in the dust. I'ew of thut Sparliin baud Livo to tell the tales of yoro, Huw o'er thc fruzcu land Their steps they marked with gore 1 Orcon grows the waving grniii Where the wnr charge then was henrJ, And sweet o'er ils dirgodiko .'itraiu, i Sings the summer bird 1 Bravely yo fought, nnd well I Bravely ye fought, and full 1 Bravely ye fought to tell How your land was won ! While through the bnttle-storin, Shielded by Heaven from harm, .Moved on the j^'ud-like form Ofyour Washington I Itcmnunt oftho stormy past 1 No more Iho stirring drum. Nor the bugle's battle-blast. Toll you the foe haa come! Peaceful your latest breath! Glorious your latest .stand, Whon tbe messenger of death Engages hand to hand, Kach tomb a pilgrim aliriuc. Whose glory will ne'er decline I Freedom, ench name is thine. They bled for thee I TllO Hug which thoy horo shall wave I'eaeefuUy o'or each gravo. Whore sleeps tho honored brave. The «lce|) of the free. Yet on our .soil a host. Deep sworn, ihcir banners spread, Seek to gain whal eosl The blood of heroes dead I Deep-laid the bloody scheme! Freedom the .sacrifice! Ilow well wilh sniiie and kis.s They hide the daggur'.s glenm ! Swelling on ocean's foam, Hark 1 from tho harlot dome. Bidding the hords of Rome To trample thn free 1 Pise liko our sires of yore ! Drive thom from ourtiappy shore I Out onr best life blood pour! Dealh or liberty I 1^ iekct Ml [From The Flag of our Union. EPFIE 8TANW00D. UY MRSi. SARAH E. UAWtS. On a cold, dreary afternoon in mid winter, Mra. Stanwood sat near a cheerful fire in an •elegantly furnished parlor, with her little daugh¬ ter Effie playing by her eide. Tho wind howl¬ ed mournfully without, and the raiu and sleet beat upon tho window panes, ever and uuon startling Kffio from her play, who would run to the window and exclaim: ''0 mother, how it titorms; and Iho streelB are almost deserted. How dreadful such a day must bo for the poor I I hope no little children arc without Bhelter, now." "It ia indeed a sad storm, Effie," replied Mrs. Stanwood, "and I am glad to hear my liltle girl, who is surrounded with bO many comforts, opcak so thoughtfully of those whom fortune has favored leso highly. Ever, my child, cul¬ tivate this apirit, for it will mako you humbly grateful lo your heavenly Father, for all your mercies, and shield your heart from the selfish- ne63 that too oflcn accompanies the possession of wealth." At tbis moment a servant entered, saying that a sweet looking litlle girl, thinly clad, and ehiveriag ivith oold, waa standing in the hall, and wiahed lo see the lady of the housc. "Let hcr come in," said Mrs. Stanwood, whose heart ever beat with generous feeling for tho needy, "poor child, it must be dire nc- rcB.ity that tj., i<ut hcr CV Ihu '.l?riPT dav," The door opened, and a pnledooking child of some eight summers timidly entered, and advancing towards Mra. Stanwood, and rnising her large blue eyes swimming in tears, to her face, said: "Kind lady, tell mc what I shall do for tny poor mama, for sho is very sick. Wo havo no wood, and nothing to ent. My brother ia stay¬ ing with her now. Uo wished to come instead of me, hut I would not let him, lor he was sick all night, because he got so cold yesterdny, while trying to get work. 0, what will become of nsl" The littlo^uppliant could proceed no further, but burst into tears. Ellie,who had gradually ap¬ proached the cliild, now flung hor dimpled arms around her neck, and hogged her not to cry so hard, and londing her towards the fire, made hor sit down on ber own cricket, and warm her cold fingers. Mrs. Stanwood, who was in tlie habit of ques¬ tioning thoso who applied to her for relief, for¬ bore to do so at this time, for the innocent, tearful expression ofthat 'ipturiied facc was stamped indelibly with truth. Hastily order¬ ing hcr carriage, she bade Elfie run to bid the housekeeper put up n basket of provisions im¬ mediately, while she wcut to prepnre to visit thc home ofthe lillle suiTeror. Eflie ran or rather llcw on hererranil of mer¬ cy, for, like her mother, nothing touched hcr sensitive heart so much, as a tale of distress.— She aoon returned, nnd giving her companion a huge slice of cake, seated heraelf beside her, and began with childish curiosity to ask hcr where she lived, and wbat wna her name. "My name is Emma I.eighton," said the child; "and I livo a loug, long weary way from here, in au old house, and nover saw such nice things as Ihoso bofore. Y'our mama will be afraid tu come to our house." "Don't fear thnt," snid Effie, soothingly.— "Mother often goes to poor places, and some¬ times takes mc wilh hcr, for she says when I I sec how a great many other liltle children live, it will mako me liko my own dear home so much the more." Here Ihe conversation of tbc little ones was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Stanwood, all muflled in furs for her ride, and throwing a cloak of Ellin's upon Emma's shoulders, she led hor to tbe carriage, and soon the pnir were on their wuy to the home of poverty. Ar¬ rived ther-', they ascended a dilapidated stair¬ case, and entered a room in the third story, where upon a miserable bed iu ono corner Iny j a very luiieli einaciiited but still lovely woman, I scarcely thiriy years of age. Hor features were pinched and sharpened 'uy want aud sickness. [ Hy her side slood a boy of nbout twelve j year.s, whose high forehead bore the impress of a lofty mind, although the linea of prouinturo I eare gavo a sad louk to his finely-formed mouth, I and somewhat dimmed the lustre ofhis large, dnrk hiizol eyes. Mrs. Stanwood approached lhe bed and perceived witii a shudder that the poor woman wns unconscious, perhaps dead. "Uow long," she asked the boy, "has your molher laid in this insensible state?" "About an hour. I tried a long time to warm hor hands und make her open her eyes ngnin, and once she seemed to awake a litlle, bul my handa got so cold I did not like to touch her any more. 0 tell ine, is my poor mother dend?" "I Ihiuk nol," said Mrs. Stanwood, "but soino- thiiig must be done immediately, or I fear what you so much dread will happen." SliD despatched Honry for aomo wood, whilo she busied herself in trying to restore to ani¬ mation the unconscious woman. Ilenry soon returned, and a blazing fire quickly seul its cheerful light around the room. At lnst,JIi-s. L. opened hcr eyes and saw the cheerful fire, und her children sitting comfortably by it; she rais¬ ed hcr eyes to tho facc of .Mrs. Stanwood .with a look of intense gratitude, and thou pointing with her thin fingers towards heaven, shc faint¬ ly murmured:—"He will reward you. He who givelh lo the poor, Icndelh to the Lord." Then rousing, as if by a sudden impulse, she said; "Kind lady, I know not who you nre, but 1 feel that I am indebted to your kindnc.-s for my present eomfort, and beforo death shall havu sealed my lips forever, 1 wish to say a few words wilh regard lo my circuinstnuce. I was thc daughter of worthy parenta who lived iu a pleasant village nut many miles from here, and in my seventeenth year, haviug been intro¬ duced to Henry I.eighlou. he won my young heort, and not many months elapsed before I became his bride. Wo moved to the city, and for a whilo hc was all my ardent heart could desiro; I thought hira perfect and was happy. But soon he became cold aud indill'erent, and all the love be once felt for mo seemed to havo lefl his heart. One day he being colder than usual, I asked him the reason, and hc tuld mo he had only married me because he took a fan¬ cy to ray pretty face, but ho was tired of thai uow. Xot even the birth ofour children seem¬ ed to soften him, nnd he went on from bad to worse, spending his evenings at the gaming ta¬ ble, whilo I W.1S obliged to toil from day to day to support myself and children. At length ho suddenlv lefl me, and I heard nolhing from him unlil after three years, when news reached me that he had died uncarod for and alone in a foreign land. I continued lo support myself by sewing until my health gave way, and I cnme to tbis place, and baving spent all my little savings, I was reduced lo the situation you now find me in. Ere anothor hour I shall be cold in death, and my poor children I could go without a murmur but for iheml'' Overcome by her feelings uud tlic exertion of speaking she sank back exhau-^ted. Mra. Stanwood had been very mueh excited during her recital, and when the poor woman had fin¬ isbed, shc bent over her, and eaid in an almost whisper:—"Fear not, by the lovo I once boro their father, I vow to cheri.ih and proicct bia chiidrcn." Tbe dying woman pressed hcr hand in token of gratitude, and had scarcely time to eall her children and fold thera in a fond embrace, be¬ fore hcr weary spirii winged it: heavenward 6i;;ht. ' .\ud i: Ibis ll", «;fc rf i^r pr-^-jd .mi bril¬ liant Ilenry Leighton, the lover of my youlh, who so cruelly won my lovc and then deserted ine?" murmured ilra. Stanwood, as she bent over thc corpse. "0 God, the hour of retribu¬ tion surely comes, and mysterious are thc wnj-s oflby providence." Willi the assistance of a woman sho sum¬ moned from the ne;:t room, tho body of Mrs. Leighton was decently laid out, and leaving the woman to watch that none entered the room, ahe led the sobbing children to her carriage, and soou had tho motherless ones seated by her own cheerful fire with her own Eflie. The following day a small but decent band of mourners followed the reinains of Mrs. Leigh¬ ton to her last resting-place. .Vnd na Mrs. Stanwood returned'from tbe grave with tho or¬ phans, she realized tlie fearful rosponsibility resting upon her, from which she dared not shrink. Ill course of lime, Henry Leighton was put wilh a rich merchant of Mrs. Stanwood's ac¬ quaintance, who not long afterwards went to the Ii)ast Indies, taking Henry with him. Emma's sweet temper won thc lovc of all wbo knew her, and each succeeding year bro't forth new charms of person nnd mind. Effic loved her as a sister, and Mrs. Stanwood never showed or felt towards her anything but a mo¬ ther's lovc. One fine snmmer afternoon some years afler the events just narrated, two lovely girls stood nrm in arm on the pinzza of Col. Stanwood's country residence; and one may recognize in that fairy figure and sweet face, around which those golden curls are floating in the gentle breeze, and in thoso lovely eyes beaming with love nnd gentlencsa, Emma I.eighton. liy her side is tho queenly figure of Eflie Stanwood.— Effie is much changed sinco wc last aaw hcr, in beauty of person. As she stands, hcr head is slightly thrown baok, her rich, black hair parted smoothly on her marble brow, and ga¬ thered in a knot at the back of her finelysba- pod head; her eyes sparkling with vivacity, and her lips parted in a sniiie, showing her bcauli- teeth. "Come. Emma." said Eflie, putting hcr arm round her slight waisl, "come, let ns take a walk this pleasant aflernoon to the little mnple grovo, whero we enjoyed so many pleasant chats last summer. I hope old Winter has seen fit to touch it gently wilb his frosty fingers." Emma started slightly as hercompiiniou fin¬ ished speaking, for she had been indulging in 0 little fit of abstraction, and hud heard only hnlf of what hnd been said to her, aud she an¬ swered dreamily: "Yea, Eflie, nothing would give me greater picasuro thau a walk. We will get our bonnets and be ofl'." Eflie scanned her'face rather mischievously aa she said, "Whnt in the world makes you so dreamy, lo-day? You go aboul with the air of ono lost to all present things. Sny, has Frank llarcourt heeu laying siege to thnt Iitllo heart of yours? And if so, what will become of my poor brother Edgar? for evcrsince he returned from college, be bas had no cnrs or eyes for anyhody but my dnrling Emma.'' "0, Effie! Frank Harcourl, indeed! Why, he scarcely gives me a passing glance when yon arc by, aud yct you talk ofhis laying siege to my heart. You are jealous, Effie, because you saw him talking to me in the garden Inst evening. And all he said to me was, 'Pray, ia Misa Stanwood ill, that sho is not with you tf>- niglit? .\s you are always together, I Ihought there must he some urgent reason, espeeinlly as she likes moonlight rambles.' There now, don't you soe it is not poor me whoattrncts the brilliuul I-'runk Harcourt. You do well to avail yourself of your bool-Iacing to hido your blushes.*' The girls indulged in this bantering until they renched the maple grove, where, seating themselves on a sent, they threw ofl'their bon¬ nets and gavo tbeinsolves up lo the enjoyment of boing in the open air. Emma sank into a brown study, and being teased by Eflie to ro- veiil tho cause, she snid: "1 had a dream lust night, and it has boen haunting me ever since, it seemed so life-like. Icannot get rid of the impression that it will como to pass some way. I dreamed I was walking in this vei'y grovo, and suddenly un old wrinkled woman slood before me. Laying her bony fingers on my arm and peering into my face, she said, 'there is a great surprise in store for you; and Eflie Stanwood whom you lovo so so ranch, in a twelve month will wed one who sball knit your hearts closer than ever. You look incredulous now, but Ihe time will surely come when you will think of my words and know how true tliuy were.' Thus saying, she vanished, leaving mo in a snlto of bewilder¬ ment. If my deur brother had not been taken away from us by death, I could then sou how my dreuin might come true, but now—" "Who knows what will tuin up ? But hark, 1 hear voices, nnd my name as plain as cnn he," said Effie. "You know tho old adage, 'Listen¬ ers never hear any good of themselves;' and I ara going to hido and prove the truth of it." The two young girls hnd scarcely got eon coaled when two young mon came along. '¦I say, George, that girl .shall bo raiue by fuir means or t'oul, il for uo olhcr reason than lo thwnri Frank Harcourl, who is a frequent visitor of lalo al Col. .Stanwood's. Yos, Miss Slnnwood sball, ere one month passes over hor head, be the willing bride of Wm. Hammond." "Xoiisenso," replied his friend. "Miss Stan- I wood would not look al you. You are only :i 1 bowing acquaintance, and never as yot have I reeeived an invitation to the house." I "Xover mind, I cnn get into the good graces I of her brother Edgar, and after all, I fancy by her looks she could be easily won." Effie staid to hear no more, but indignantly seizing the hand of Emma, they stole back to theii%)rmer seat. "Thcu I can be easily won, canl? We i shall see. Did you ever hear sucb unpanillel- I ed impudence ? before another month, I shnll bc lhe willin;; bride of Wiliiaiu Uiiramond. - ' Mou;lrou>!" After this burst of indignalion, Eflie sat for aome time in deep thought, thon starting up, she exclaimed : "Now I have a plan. You kuow Cousin Alice Stanwood is to visit us next week, nnd while ahe is here, I will give n party. Edgar shall invite this pompous braggart, and we will pnss Alice ofl' for myself, and then he will feel rather chagrined, I think, when hc finds, after all his boasting, he hns hoen trnp- ped. What say you, Emma, do you think my plan feasible 7" "By all means, and I will assist yon, for he ought to be punished." Hearing the tea-bell ringing at this moment, tbe two girla started for the house full of their plans. While the family nre quietly sipping their leu. We will endeavor to explain to our renders the reason of William Hammond's en¬ mity to Frank Harcourt. "In his boyhood, William Hammond wns a famous cricket player, and for yeara enjoyed his triumph without a rivnl. He h.vl a very fiery temper, and considered being beat at a cricket match the worat aflliction t hat could be¬ fall him, and more than once was heard tu vow- vengeance on hiin who should rob him of his laurels Tho fnmily of the Harcourts movedto the village, and a cricket match coining olf soon aftor,Frank Harcourt was invitodbysome of the boys to join in tho sport. Ho did so, and in an unlucky momont, so at least it became lo him, he wun the game, and was carried olT the field amid the shouts of triumph from lhe hoys, for they gloried in the defeat of Williani Ham¬ mond, wbo wns so obnoxious to them by hiaar- rogance. Ever nfterwnrds it soeracd tho set¬ tled purpose of William's lifo to cross Frank's path at all limos, and thwart his every plan.— Instead ofhis bitterness boiugaoftenodby time, it seemed to increase wilh his growth, and at the lime of our slory, he had arrived at man¬ hood, and outwardly was very prcpos.scs.sing, yet within his heart was filled wilh malignant firo. The reason of his wishing to win Eflie fur his bride, was not because he had any lovc for her, but hc had of late noticed Frank Har- court's atteiilioiia to lior. And then Colonel Slnnwood was rich, and if hc gained Effie, his fortunes, whicii were on tbe wane, would be considerably brightened, hence Ihc resolution wc have spoken of. * * * * "Alice, my dcur, nre you ready?" said an el¬ derly lady, a.s shc entered her daughter's room, where sho was crossing apparently for njourney. "Yoa, mother, all roady but putting on ray bonnet. How aoon will the stage be here ?" "In a very few momenis, for it has already arrived at the top of the hill." "0 mothor!" And here the afi'ectiouate girl threw her arms around the neck of hcr mothor, "I anticipate being very happy during my via¬ it, but 1 shall think of you so often and ima¬ gine that you are lonely without me. Do wrilc to me every week, and I will improve ev¬ ery means of communication with you." "Yes, my dear, you shall havo a letter from rae quito as oflen as I imagine you will find lime to nnswer mo. But Alice, ri!niembcr,since your father's failure and our removal from A—¦, tho communicnliou hetween tho fnmilies has boen somewhnt broken, and I know not liow your Cousin Effie, whom I have henrd has grown to be a brilliant and accomplished lady, will recoive hor portionless cousin, whom she hna not seen Ibr many years." "If I thouglit shc would treat me coldly, mother, or ho lesa glad to see me on account ofour altered circumstances, I am sure I would nol burden her wilb my presence ; but she nn¬ swcred my letter so kindly, and begging rae to come and slay with hcr, 1 cnnnot think your fenrs have nny foundntion." "I hope not, .Mice ; and indeed, il sho pns¬ sesses her mother's generous dlspositioii,she will receive you with open arma. I did not say this to damp your spirits, but if such a reception should bo yours, you may not he disappointed.'' "Stage roady !'' shouted tho driver of that clumsy vehicle, as be drove up to thc door.— Alice, hastily imprinting a kiss on her muthor's cheek, rushed down stairs, and waa aoon on her ¦way to A , seated in a corner of the coach. Her heart heat nlleruntoly beta-eon hopo and fear aa she neared her uncle's residence, forpor- haps EfTie might be the proud cousin her moth¬ er hud feared. All hor flirebodings vanished liko mist, as Colonel Stanwood and his wife gavo her a kiss of welcome, nn,': led her into tho drawing-room, where she wa.< clasped in th.i arms of Effie, and before an hour had passed the two wero conversing as freely as if they had never beon separatoil. Alico thought no more of coldness. After ten, the girls hied lo Ibeir rustic seat, thoir favorite place for holding counsel. The projected parly was to como oil' in throe days, and Alice must bo instructed iu the purt she was to play. Effie briefly told her tlio jilau. Alice al lirst had many bcruplcF aboul assuming the position of Ellic. But she yielded at last to the pleading of Effie and Em¬ ma, and it waa agreed that she was to roceivo the attentions of Mr. Hammond. Thoy had just settled all tbcir plans, when Edgar Stonwood mndo his nppenrniice, accom¬ paiiied bv Frnnk Hnrcourl. They all reiuain¬ cd talking till tho lenglbcuing shadows warned them oflho lateness oflho hour. Edgar man¬ aged to get near Emma unperccivcd, aa he thoughi, but Effie nolicod il, and soi'/.ing Alice by tho arm and calling Frank lo follow, .she left them to eujoy the deepening twilight together, Emma rose lo follow ihem, but Edgar genlly detained her. Taking her unrcsi.-:tiiig hand iu his, poured into her ear for the fir.st timo his tale of love. Emma blushed and stainmored. Sho murmured something about being only a deiwndonl, but Edgar banished all those fears by assuring her thnl ho had often heard his pn¬ rents wish that this might happen. When they loft tho spol, uo«- doubly dear to Emma, they were betrothed lovers. Il is the evoning of tho party, and the three girls havejust finished dressing. There standa Effie robod iu white, -.vith no ornaments snvo a half blown damask rose, peeping forth Irom among hcr raven tresses. Nohviihsiaudingthc iJiupliciiy of hcr drci.^, thete ii lb' qii'...n!y benring wbich dialingui.shca Eflie. Alice is leaning ngainst the window, almost bewildered by the brilliancy ofhor appearance. Shc is at¬ tired in a tissue of costly fabric, over an under dross of white silk, whilo nmong her auburn curls flash diamondsof great brilliancy. Onher neck and arms nre rich jewels, and altogether, sho looka Iho personation of Effio Stanwood, the heiress. Emma ia dressed simply but rioli- ly, and her sweet faee is lighted np with such inward joy that she looka if possible more love¬ ly than ever. Just now Edgar rushed into tho room, and kissing the girls, beginning wilh Emma of course, he announced that he had mnde a great acquisition to the party in shape of a young man from the We:st Indies. "Xow, sister, do your hest, for I havo set my heart upon your making a conquest of the handsome stranger." By thia lime the couipiiny were assembling, and they descended to the drawing-room. Em¬ ma and Effio w-ere standing by a door which led into a beautiful conservnlory, when Edgar came up with tho stranger, and touching Eflie on lhe shoulder, he snid: "Eflie, allow mo to introduce to you my friimd Mr. Leighton." Eflie returned his salu- tulion wilh her usual dignity. "And now,'' ho said, "I will make you ac¬ quninted wilh my adopted sister, or perhaps I should say. Miss Emma Leighton." Emma, when she heard his name, started and a death-like paleness overspread hor face. "It must be, thought she, I'or surely there is the same noble brow, and tho same long hair I uaed to love to arraugo when a child. 0, if it should be my long losl brother. IVilh theso thoughts flitting through her brain she almost unconsciously returned the pressure ofhis hand, whilo he, tbe moment he lookedat hor fiice, his gaze became rivetted there. "Pardon me," said he, turning to Eflie and Edgar, "but will you three step into the con¬ servatory? I wish to ask a question." "Certainly;" and they stepped intn it, letting full Ihe heavy curtains so aa to shut them from the observation of others. "Had you ever. Miss Leighton, a brother by the namo of Henry ?'' "Yea, do you know anything about him ?" Eir,ma replied, hoping and more than half be¬ lieving that her hopes were about to bo realized. "I am he." "0, my dear brother," exclaimed Emma,aud soon she wns sobbing on his mnnly brenst. After she hnd become calm, he related to them briefly, how the minor had originated in regard to his death. He told them that his pat¬ ron bad died and loll him his iminenso fortune, aud now he had ioturned lo his native laud. ple during the first weeks or months of their betrothal. Colonel Slnnwood and lady were also thero, an sort of honorary mcmbors, and thoy moved about among the as^omhlod people, their hearts filled wilh joy tn overflowing, for in the projected union of theirchildren, their highest wishes wero to be realized. On this occasion William Hammond waa more atten¬ tive than ever to Alice, and was constanlly seeking an opportunity to declare his passion a second time. Frnnk Harcourt wns sitting beside Alico in a retired part of the grovo, when through nn opening in tho bushes ho espied his enemy appro.iching in their direction. Hastilv concealing himsolf behind a troe he awaited his approach. William perceiving Alien alono, immediately joined her, and like Frank we will listen to their conversntion. "Dearest Alice, I hear that you aro lo leave here soon, and now I cannot longer be kept in suspense, with regard to my fate. I need nol sny again how much I love you. I love you wilh all the deep, over«helraing afl'ection of a passionate nature. Tell mc, docs your hearl return that afl'ection ? Can I ever hope to call you my wife?" "Mr. Hammond, I have reason to believe that the motives which first promjited you to seek my presence, were of the hiLsest kind; that you have since leurnod to love me I will uot dispute, but I assure you, I would never trust much to tho love, or give my hand to onc who merely for revenge sought mo. I have permit¬ ted your attentions, merely to give you a lea- son. My final answer ia this, I can never be¬ come your wife, fur I shnll, ero a month passes, become the bride of Frnnk Harcourl." Stnng as if hy an adder, he sprang to his feet, while his face grew livid with passion. ' "Has hr. dnred to rival rae again, and rob mc ofthe only being I ever loved ! Tbe thought is maddening. Alice Stanwood, I leave yun, but I boar with me a hatred and hope for ven geauce, that will sometime break out and may its efl'ects fall on him who has ever been my evil spirit." .\s he passod thc treo where Frnnk was con¬ cealed, Frank stepped out. William with a cry of rage sprang forward, and with one blow of hia fist, ho struck him to tho earth, and springing over him wns soon out of sight. Alico saw the blow and fall, and with a scream of terror she rushed to his jide. Her cries soon brought assistance, und ere long Frank wus rnstored to consciousness, but his head was badly cut, and he waa conveyed lo Iho residence of Colonel Stanwood, where ho remained until entirely recovered. Xolhing was ever heard of William Ham¬ mond, except that he had departed fur u i In high spirits they again joined tho compa- land. Colonel Stanwood aoon after relurned ny, the newa of the returned brother spread with joyful rapidity through the room. Wbilo these events wero transpiring in ono part oflhe room,inanother, Willinm Hamraondwaslaying seige to the heart of Miss Stanwood, who, to his greal and unlooked-fordolight, waa uiicoramonly gracious, and he caught more tban once the an¬ gry glance of Frnnk Harcourt following them. Frank had beon let into the secret and play¬ ed the jealous lover admirably. The party was not confined to tho house, bul wandered ntwill tbrough the splendid grounda. Miss Slnnwood accepted llio ofl'ered arm of Mr. Hammond for a promenade; after walking nbonl some time, Willinm l.?d hcr to an arbor, and seated him¬ solf beside her. Ever rash and impetuous.and ut this timo highly elaied by the atlention the haughly belle hnd bestowed on him, he fell on his knees, exclaiming: "0 Miss Stanwood, could you know how the heauly and sweetness of that peerless fiico hns enterod into my very soul, and huw-, for inonths, I hnvc loved you in secret, nover daring to usk an interview with yon until now, you would certuiuly lislen favorably lo mc. 0, can you, will you be mine ? Only murmur that sweet word 'yes,' and I will inslantly seek your fath¬ er, the colonel, nnd know my fate; for should bo refuse, my life will bo a blank." Withdrawing her hand whieli ho hnd seized, she said with coldness: "You must labor under some mistake; I only arrived here the day be¬ fore vesterday, aud as fur my father, he died nine years ago.'' Hammond sprnng to hia feot, and looking nt her suid: "Are you not Misa Stanwood, daugh¬ ter of Colonel Stanwood ?" "rndoubtcdly I am Miss Stanwood, niece of Colonel Stanwood, not daughter." lie stood confounded, and whilo gazing upon hcr beauly, ho felt that while intending to thwart Frank Harcourt, ho had lost his heart. Ue thou asked her if she was perfectly indifl'eront to him. Sho gave an evasive bul not wholly unfuvorable answer, and satisfied wilh that fur this liinc, they returned to the house. The party at Colonol Stanwood's was the commencement of a series that f,illowed each other in rapid succession, and never had thc good people of A known such a brilliant season. Horseback rides and water parties were tbe order of tbe dny. Tho Misses Slnn¬ wood nnd Emma Leighton altiactcd their usunl shnre ol admiration. Frnnk Harcourt, as for¬ merly, waa oflon seen wending his way lo the dwelling of Colonel Stanwood, but rumor suys he has long since resigned all pretensions to the hand of I'illie, and that his ]ilnce is filled by Henry Leighton. Gossip saya Frank linds his attraction in Iho swoet Alice. Tho weeks flew rapidly by, and Alice, yield¬ ing to the entrealies of hcr friends, slill remains with them. She ofteii wondered ut herself bo¬ ing willing to slny so long awny from her molher; but at such limes the image of Frank ILircourt would rise beforo her and she would yield to tho pleasure of being near hira. She atill kept up her flirtation,—if I may call it so —wilh William Hammoud. Ue seemed aure oflhe prize, und dreamed of no rival. One afternoon towards the luft of August, a picnic was held in a neighboring grove, as a sort of farewell parly, it boing tho last ono of the season. Ettie and Emraa woro prcseut with thrir lovers, tbcir facts radiuui with I'.iul buppiiic" nhich fills ihv hearts vl' yowiig ncj- to the city; and passing over a few weeks, wo will visit them there, for, judging frnm the brillinnt illumination, something pleasant must bo going on. As wc enter the rooms, we see Colonel Stanwood and his still lovely lady be¬ side him, looking tho snme as when we first introduced hor to you, savo that sho wears u light cnp to conceal the fow gray hairs that are sprinkled among her jetty locks. The mnthcr of .Mice is Ihore, nlso, and many representa¬ tives nf the Harcourt fumily, and all glance frequently to tho door. It opens, and three lovely maidens, loaning upon their lovers'arms enter and glide graeefully to tho other end of the room, nnd stand before tho mnn of God.— Tho ceremonies arc concluded, aud Edg.-ir and Emma Stanwood, Eflie and Heury Leighton, Alice and Frank Hnrcnurt, aro husband and wife, and ench felt their rcsponsibilitv, as foil the solemn words, ''What God halh joined to¬ gether, lot no mnn i>iit asunder."' lUlCOUS. 'Woman in California. Rev. Dr. Scoll, in a discourse on some.of tho causes of prevailing crimes In our day, de¬ livered in the Unitarian Church last Sabbalh evening, snid, "that one of the main, proximate causes oftho increase of crime in new Statee, in our mining districts, is Ihe absence of rirtn. ous, inlelligeiil and pious females. Tho life, chnracter, weallh and the happiness of the miner, tho clork, and tho merchant emigrant, would be vastly improved if they were sur¬ rounded by tboir mothers, wivea, and sisters.— If Eve was tho first in transgression, her daugh¬ ter's aro certainly first in healing earth's zcz- rows. Last at the cross and first at thc tomb, woman hns ever proved herself to be man's beet friend nnd counsellor. The vigils of tho dead, the beds of the sick and tho chambers of tho dying, are witr.osseif of hor patience and ticoploss care. God has said, it is not good for man lo bo alone. When He crealed man. He gave him woman in tho holy bands of matrimony, aa the crown of hii chiefcst earthly blessing. Infinite wisdom hui divided the race into the two sexes, and tho happiness of both is only secured by their vir¬ tuous union. Snch is human nature, that Iho mero consciousness of the presence oi a femalo heart is to man a great blessing. Women neod no conventions to secure her rights. Gnd has given them to her by an un¬ changing charter. Hcr true position is jusl where tho Bible places her, us a mothor, wife, daughter nnd sister—mnn's helpmate and com¬ panion, and tbe source of hia sweetest and pu¬ rest delights. Il is vastly inipurtaiit for young men and all good cilizens, lo properly esliinatu the poailion of women in socicly. For jnst where she is placed in hfr jiroper poaition, there, and there only, does society culminate in its loftiest grandeur. I am well satisfied, and that too nfter a visit to the mining districts, thut nothing is moro imperatively needed im California tban tho softening, purifying and elevating influence of woman. And sure I am. if mothers and wives, at home, only had a view of tho inner life of so¬ cicly in this Stato, they would ily nt oncc lo its .shores, plains and mnuntain cabins. Xeilh¬ er the Chinese wall, ror tho Rocky Mountains, nor llio Islhraua l.-nnsit—scarcely, indeed, eould Ihe flaming aword of Eden keep them away. The two great wants of California arc, not a railroad to the Atlantic, mu a steamship line lo Japan and China, though these are im¬ portant, and will, I hope, soon b« accomplish, ed; bnt the two greatest wants of thia Stale am the presence of molhers, -ivives and sisters, and u thorough American home education.—Alia Californian. Men of America. The greatest man, ''take all in all.'' of the i ed to last huiidred yoars, was Gen. Georgo Washing¬ ton, an .'Vmerican. 1'he greatest Doctor of Divinity waa Jona¬ than Edwards, an American. Tho greatest of living Sculptors is Hiram Powers, an American. Thc greatest living hisloriuii ia Willinm H. Proscott, an Ainericnn. The greatest Ornotbologist was John Janiea Audubon, un American. There hna been no I^ngliah writer in tho present age, whoso worka havo been more marked wilh humor, moro refinement or moro graco, than those of Washington Irving, an American. Tbo greatest Lexicographer since tho timo of Johnsun, »-as Xonli Webster, an Americnn. Tho Inveutora w-hose works have beer, pro¬ duclivo of the greatest umuunt of benefit to mankind, in the last century, wore Godfrey, Filch, Fulton, and Whitney, nil .\uicricuiis. A Judge's Charge. Judge Juiiuh Jules recenlly delivered thi fidlowing charge to lhe jury, in ll Crunch for stealing; Bereavemext ok ExPiiEsiUEvr Fillmore. —The following beautiful and feeling tributo to Mr. Fillmore, on tho occasion ofthe loss of his only ond mueh loved daughter, is copied from a lato nuniber of tho Boston Transcript. We mny say thnt millions will take il lo thoir hearts nnd cherish il; while millions mourn with tho good, great and patriotic man. whoso cherished hopes have boen so terribly riven: TO EX-PRESIDEXT FlLLMOUE, Upon his Recent Afflictions. Many the hearts that sharo thy sadden'd hour, Fillmore, the firmly wise the meekly great. Who worost without stain tho robe of stale, I'niiwod by faction, iinsedncod by power. If, whilo the clouds of woe so diii-kly lour Over thy homo, once happy, any Ihought Cun reach tbymiiid with healing virtue fraught. Or benm, a bow of promise through tho shower. Be il thnt thou by suffering art endeared. That thunsauds mourn with thee, and that thy namo W'ins a more tender hnnor than when fame Wafted it forth, in distant land.s revei'i-d May He who smiles sustain thy sli-cngth and fill Thy aoul w-ith all high though't>! Thy couimy needs thoe slill. S. G. h. Dorchester, July, lijol. Pruning Orchards. Il is a very good rule, and lhe nearer it ia fol¬ lowed thc belter, that no shoot should beallow- main longer thau onc year on a tree, that will require removal at any future timo.— Uy observing tlie form which a young troo should tako, and rubbing or cutting of improp¬ er or unnecessary shoots in time, any severo pruning at a subsequent period, may be entire¬ ly avoided. Hence, the remark has much truth in it, that pruning saws and axes should never i enter an orchard—which ia striclly correct in all cases, provided the needless shoots havo beon lopped in time, whon the work may bb done wilh the pocket-knife only. .\. very com¬ mon error is to allow thc growth of too many branches, thc result of wliich is they becomo overcrowded, u part dio, the leaves and new growlh aro small and imperfect, and as a ne¬ cessary consequence, the fruit la half grown nnd stunted. Thu head should therefore be lofi opcli, the branches few, and so evenly distribu led through space, that no.ne thall be crowded, and all subjected to :iir und suushine, and all conlinue thrifty and vigorous. A inoderato .^hare of care and attention lo Ihese particular;, might be made tu give a very diflerent report f Flit I of uur orchards, from thai now presented by thu great mass of apples sold iu markol. Larger 'Jurv, you kin go out, and don't show vour l'"''"^' l"?" '"P'' "'"' '"^"'^'^ ''''''^"^ P"' iiglv mugs bere till vou find a venlict-if you '¦''«''"^' «'''"''' ^^ ''"' '^'"^^'-""'' """ ""^¦ .'un't find oue of your own, git tl.o one the laat '"«'>' »"' P''''"'^'"^ 1^^ eullivalion were given jury used.' The jury retired, .ind aftrr an absence of fifteen miiiuios, returned w-ith a verdict of 'Suicide in thc niiiib degree and fourth vorse.' Then Judgo Jonah Joles pronounced upon F.lim Crunch this soiitence: "Elira t'runch. sluu' up, and fnee the iniisie. You aro found guilly of Suicide for stealing. Now ibis courl -,„ honey, cologne, nuiineg and cbeckerberries. sentence you to pay a fine of two shillings, to shave your head wilh a bagganet, in tbo bar. racka, and if you try to cave in tho heuds of any of the jury, you'll catch thunder, that's all. Your lato will bo a warning to uihers; uud in in connection with judicious pruning. Kon- is tho timo thut youug urcharda sbould bo cxainined mid treated in the way wc havo pointed oat.-—.ilbuny Cidliiator. How SiiE I-'ki.t \vai;.\ First Kissed.—A la¬ dv friend of ours says the first time she waa kissed she felt like abigtub of roses swimming She also felt as if soinelhing wns running Ihro' her nerves on feel uf diauiouds. escorted by several litlle Cupids iu chnriou, drawn by nn¬ gels, shaded by honeysuckles, and tho teholc spread with moiled rainbows. Jerusalem 1— n full bmaatcd ^ias 1 conclusion, may lhe Lord havo uicrcy ou your I What power Ihero is sonl. Sherifl, get mc a pint of red-eve. laml ' " ¦;,' ~. . ,.,,,.' n^Ii vou soe a siiuall arising in tho lali awlul thirsty. I "^ - ,. ,' , ,,, _: I, m» „ tude of your wife, what course shonld be pur J6J" Xcvcr jest ivith the sorrows and frail- i sued lo avoid its consequoncos ? Frailtic! cred thini; "u arc misfortunes, and the | Uoiblo her larie with your loft tirm, nnd h'i. "tinb to each b":i'-t is it? t vour lips drops an*'h.»r on tb-- cruising groitud
Object Description
Title | Huntingdon Journal |
Masthead | The Huntingdon Journal |
Date | 1854-09-06 |
Month | 09 |
Day | 06 |
Year | 1854 |
Volume | 19 |
Issue | 36 |
Coverage | United States, Pennsylvania, Huntingdon County |
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. |
Subject | Huntingdon County Pennsylvania, Anti-Masonic, whig, Huntingdon County genealogy, Juniata River valley, early newspapers, advertising, politics, literature, morality, arts, sciences, agriculture, amusements, Standing Stone, primary sources. |
Rights | Public domain |
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 |
Source | Microfilm |
Format | Tiff |
Type | Huntingdon County Newspaper |
LCCN number | sn86071455, sn86053559, sn86071456, sn86081969 |
Description
Title | Huntingdon Journal |
Masthead | The Huntingdon Journal |
Date | 1854-09-06 |
Month | 09 |
Day | 06 |
Year | 1854 |
Volume | 19 |
Issue | 36 |
Sequence | 1 |
Page | 1 |
Technical Metadata | 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 28742 kilobytes. |
FileName | 18540906_001.tif |
Date Digital | 2007-05-14 |
Coverage | United States, Pennsylvania, Huntingdon County |
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. |
Subject | Huntingdon County Pennsylvania, Anti-Masonic, whig, Huntingdon County genealogy, Juniata River valley, early newspapers, advertising, politics, literature, morality, arts, sciences, agriculture, amusements, Standing Stone, primary sources. |
Rights | Public domain |
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 |
Source | Microfilm |
Format | Tiff |
Language | English |
Type | Huntingdon County Newspaper |
LCCN number | sn86071455, sn86053559, sn86071456, sn86081969 |
FullText |
|0iriEl
"I SEE NO Stab above the horizon, pROJiisiNa light to odidb us, but the intellioent, patriotic, united Wuio Pabty or the United States."—[Webster.
BY WM. BREWSTER.
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1854
VOL. 19. NO. 36.
TERMS :
The "HcsiiNODON Journal" is published at (be following rates i
If pnid in advance $t,tiO
If paid withiii six months after thc time of
subscrihing 1,75
If paid at the ond of the year 2,00
And two dollars nnd fifty cents if not pnid till «fter the expiration of the year. No subscription will bo tnkou for a loss period thnn six months, and nopnper willbe disconti'iued,except nt the ¦option of thc Editor, until allanenrnges arc pnid. Subscribers living indistunt counties,or in other flutes, will be required to pay invariably in advnnce.
^f The nbovo terras will be rigidly adhered to iu all cases.
ADTERTIslEnEIVTS
Will bc charged nt the following rnles:
1 insertion. 2 do. .1 do. Six lines or less. S 25 $ 37J S .',0
One square, (1(1 lines,) .W 75 1 Ol)
Two " (32 " ) I 00 1 51) 2 00 Three " (48 " ) 1 50 2 25 3 00
Bnsiness men ndvertising by the Qunrler, Half Year or Year, will be charged tbe following rntes:
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Ton squnres.
Business Card
year, $4 00.
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not excocdiug si.x
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$8 00
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60 00
ines, one
JOB WORK:
i itiee! handbills, .30 copies or Ic^s, $1 25
} " '• " " " 1 .50
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1 " " " '• " 4 00
Ui.AXKs, foolscap or loss, per single quire, 1 50 ** *- 4 or more quires, pcr *• 1 00
^y Extrn cbiirgcs will bo made fur heavy composition.
{^ All lotlors on busincss must be I'Ost r.iiu to secure nllention. ..ffS
rProin Ibo Philadolphia Sun.
THE HEROES OF SEVENTY-SIX.
BV WII.I.HM
VII.I.I.V.MS, M. II.
Bund of iuimorUl men I
Hearts oflhe bravo and free I firmly ye stood up, when
The ilie at your liberty, .\iaied well a deadly blow.
With a lyraiil's bloody hand. Shrouding iu gloom and woe
Your hearlh-stoues und your land I Hurn by the dying brave. Pouring out llieir blood to save, Ve saw your banner proudly wavo
Whore the wui- stonn burst I .'.nd where the siibi'o strukc. Clnshod mid llic buttle sniukc. Fell the tyrni.t's irun yuku
Shattered in the dust.
I'ew of thut Sparliin baud
Livo to tell the tales of yoro, Huw o'er thc fruzcu land
Their steps they marked with gore 1 Orcon grows the waving grniii
Where the wnr charge then was henrJ, And sweet o'er ils dirgodiko .'itraiu, i
Sings the summer bird 1 Bravely yo fought, nnd well I Bravely ye fought, and full 1 Bravely ye fought to tell
How your land was won ! While through the bnttle-storin, Shielded by Heaven from harm, .Moved on the j^'ud-like form
Ofyour Washington I
Itcmnunt oftho stormy past 1
No more Iho stirring drum. Nor the bugle's battle-blast.
Toll you the foe haa come! Peaceful your latest breath!
Glorious your latest .stand, Whon tbe messenger of death
Engages hand to hand, Kach tomb a pilgrim aliriuc. Whose glory will ne'er decline I Freedom, ench name is thine.
They bled for thee I TllO Hug which thoy horo shall wave I'eaeefuUy o'or each gravo. Whore sleeps tho honored brave.
The «lce|) of the free.
Yet on our .soil a host.
Deep sworn, ihcir banners spread, Seek to gain whal eosl
The blood of heroes dead I Deep-laid the bloody scheme!
Freedom the .sacrifice! Ilow well wilh sniiie and kis.s
They hide the daggur'.s glenm ! Swelling on ocean's foam, Hark 1 from tho harlot dome. Bidding the hords of Rome
To trample thn free 1 Pise liko our sires of yore ! Drive thom from ourtiappy shore I Out onr best life blood pour!
Dealh or liberty I
1^ iekct Ml
[From The Flag of our Union. EPFIE 8TANW00D.
UY MRSi. SARAH E. UAWtS.
On a cold, dreary afternoon in mid winter, Mra. Stanwood sat near a cheerful fire in an •elegantly furnished parlor, with her little daugh¬ ter Effie playing by her eide. Tho wind howl¬ ed mournfully without, and the raiu and sleet beat upon tho window panes, ever and uuon startling Kffio from her play, who would run to the window and exclaim:
''0 mother, how it titorms; and Iho streelB are almost deserted. How dreadful such a day must bo for the poor I I hope no little children arc without Bhelter, now."
"It ia indeed a sad storm, Effie," replied Mrs. Stanwood, "and I am glad to hear my liltle girl, who is surrounded with bO many comforts, opcak so thoughtfully of those whom fortune has favored leso highly. Ever, my child, cul¬ tivate this apirit, for it will mako you humbly grateful lo your heavenly Father, for all your mercies, and shield your heart from the selfish- ne63 that too oflcn accompanies the possession of wealth."
At tbis moment a servant entered, saying that a sweet looking litlle girl, thinly clad, and ehiveriag ivith oold, waa standing in the hall, and wiahed lo see the lady of the housc.
"Let hcr come in," said Mrs. Stanwood, whose heart ever beat with generous feeling for tho needy, "poor child, it must be dire nc- rcB.ity that tj., i |
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