Lancaster Examiner and Herald

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I4^CAS1ER, PA., Wl^
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AT TVSTO DOLLARS A -TEAK.
The EjcamiTier & Ilerald
un
Ii FablUhai vnrr Ittnilay at tS.OO a Year, OOe* Ho. S>i Hoith OnHn Btnat
<>f, th^se |me obi^ ttki'g^^^ I liked him l)etter timn liis oonsiB; ^He
from thew &ft.9i^ or gtwdfiitliers, if ev-^ wis one of those men whose betler qnali- er they had i any> will be ooming to ask ties shine out in the domestic ,oircle, gay, foryoiLi ^I tn>n't eay ^Bo'"to agood fS^'Oheeifal, ready in,ezpedientB for amuse-; low, if yon could stoop to like him well ment, with varied conTersational poweis eiiongh to say "yes;" but there'll be just that suited every word and every mind,; this bargain to be made. If he takea a kind and thoughtful, not aimply polite, wife, I must take a son, for. yon are not Mr. Griaham Lorrimer was briUiant going to leave the old father's house.   11 when he ohoose to exert himself, whioh
no. A. HIISTAIID,  r. BICKIBT,  X. H. EUm, Editor* &xid Propriotone.
49-AU btulaeee letters, oommnnlcatloni, Ac., aboold ' bevUreandto
JHO. A HXESIAHS ft CO, lasoaatST, Pa.
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THE LITILB PEOPLE.
A dreary place would be this earth Were there no litlle people in it:
The song of life would loae iis mirth Were there no children to begin it.
No little forms like bnds to grow.
And make the admiring heart surrender;
No little hands on breast and brow.
To keep the thrilling lore-chords tender :
No babe within our arms lo leap. No little feet toward slumber tending ;
No little knee ia prayer 10 bend. Our lips the sweet words lending.
Whal would Ihe ladies do for work, Were there no pants nor jacket tearing ?
No tiny dresses to embroider? No cradle for their watchful caring ?
Ko rosy boys at wintry morn.
With satchel to the school houae hasting ? No merry shouts as home they rush ;
No precious morsel fortheir taating.
Tall, grave, grown people at the door, Tall, grave, grown people at the table ;
The men on business all intent,
The dames lugubrious as they're able.
The sterner souls would get more stern. Unfeeling nature's more inhuman.
And man lo. stoic coldness turn. And womnn would be less than .woman.
For in that climb toward which we reach. Through Time's mysterious, dim unfolding.
The little ones with cherub smile Are still our Father's face beholding.
So said His voice in whom we trust, Wheo in Judea's realm a preacher.
He made a child confront the proud. And be in simple guise their teacher.
Life's eong, indeed, would loae its charm. Were there no babiea to begin it:
A doleful plaoe this world would be. Were there no little people in it.
THE STOET OF A PEETTT WOMAK
I was very beautiful. Why should I seek to deny that I knew tbe fact, when I leamed it daily, hourly, from my mir¬ ror, from the admiring glances of all eyes, from tbe flattering tongues of those who songht thus to ingratiate themselves with me. And I waa proud of my beau¬ ty, not vain, for I used no arts to attract attention to it, and dressed alwajs with entire simplicity. But I had a haughty feeling of superiority, the possession of snch charms seemed to set me apart from my own sez, and fit me for thc worship of the other; a feeling that I was not made for life's common uses, for its toils, its cares, and its sorrows; even the joys of other women seemed poor to me, for my soul craved worship only, cared not for love nor the happiness that springs from tbo mingling of true hearts.
My fatber was a wealthy mercbant, absorbed in bnsiness, and deeming his whole duty done to his family when he enpplied them with the means and ap¬ pliances of luxurious living. I had a brother, who died before I arrived at woman-hood—a noble youth, as I remem¬ ber him, aud who, had his lifo been spared, might have been my mentor, and saved me from many an unworthy triumpb and mauy an hour of suffering. There was a sister many years younger than myself —a plain, quiet, sickly child, and motber, who was (it piuns me now to writo it, for Iwould fain respeot the mem¬ ory of my mother,)a vain weak woman, almost characterless, in fact, except in the almost adoring love sbe bestowed upon this child. Such was our household, and I was its master spirit.
From my very infancy I bad been ac¬ customed to rule, iu an indolent way, but right royally. No one but my brother had ever thought of disputiug my will, and now that he was gone, I reigned with unlimited sway. I preferred the country^ and from early spring to drear November days, with their early olose, told of tbe near approach of winter, we were wont to inhabit our stately mansion, which, from a wood-crowned height, overlooked the Hudson. The remainder of the year we occupied tbe elegant town honse, where, in my languid way, I gave myself up to the dizzy round of pleaaure tbat awaited me.
I dragged my motber from party to party, for a chaperon I mnst bave, and sbe never dreamed of disputing my wishes, though sbe did not like to leave my sis¬ ter, and was miserable away from the lux- -urious nook wbich was appropriated to her own nse in our stately dwelling.
She must, herself, have had a faint, war.y prettiness in her youth, but her in¬ dolent, self-indulgent life had long de¬ stroyed tbe delicate bloom and contour ou whicb sbe had prided herself, and tritimphs for her vanity were things of the past. She shone now only in my re¬ flected light, and derived some faint so¬ lace for her fatigues, her tight dresses, and uncomfortable sboes, from listening at parties to the' many flattering remarks
that my appearance was sure to elicit	
LThese she would repeat to my father at
nezt moroinj'B breakfast table, and it was
-  pleasant to see tbe good man enjoying, at
seoond hand; all the fine things which
ware said about his fiivoiite child.
.'".Yoti'U,^, taking » husband ono of
0 ;ftii|.^a|lpK^tie'JtmM aay,; /^^
don't see how I could well live through a day without a sight of my beauty."
My father was a coarse man, slmost without eduoaUoii, aud had ways that, shooked my fastidious tastes, at times.— Bnt he loved me truly,^ and all too fond¬ ly. I believe, even then, the only gen¬ uine emotion that bad stirred my cold and alugg^h heart was affection for him. His kiss upon my brow always made me bappy, and his love, as I now look back to those days, seems tbe only real tbing in all my brilliaut existence.
Much as I loved the cotmtry and na¬ ture, I hid all the worldliness of feeling that belongs properly to thc dwellers in cities. I loved high position. I thought I might marry some day—with my glo¬ rious boanty I could always ohoose. from nnmerons suitors, and therefore might | enjoy my freedom long. But the mar¬ riage I should make should be wortby of my beauty, which I had determined no rude casket should ever enclose. I gave no encouragement to any one. Not one of my rejected suitors, even in tbe bitter¬ ness of his mortification, could assert that I had played the coquette, or stooped from my haughty pride to bestow on him word or glanoe more kindly thau those whicb were dispensed to all.
And so tbe bright years rolled on, leaving in tbeir track no care nor blight. My triumphs had not waned, my beauty had not sbown signs of deoay, my pride was as cold and haughty as in the earlier days, and yet, for five years I had been a leader in society, as much so as a young unmarried woman can be, the centre of its innermost, exclusive circle, round which scores of iuferior suns revolved, pale in the dazzle of my loveliness. I was twenty-three, aud began to weary of this life.
For the first time I waa conscious of a want that admiration could not snpply, of a longing for something different from the distant worship I had hitherto received. And when my motber one day hinted to me, in ber timid way, that Margaret was now old eiiOugh to enter society, and tbat it might be well ero long I should make a selection from my numerous devotees, I went awsy silently to my room, and wept the first bitter tei>rs I had ever shed.
I knew that my mother meant no un¬ kindness ; she had never spoken unkindly to me even in the days of my undisci¬ plined childhood. She knew that Marga¬ ret would make no impression in the cir¬ cles where I still reigned as a belle, and she was right in desiring thst her favorite ohild should not be ntterly eclipsed.
We were in the country tben; it was early June, and never had my home, and all its surroundings seemed so beautiful. I knew that if I married I mnst leave it, spite of my father's Utopian plans. My own pride would not bave permitted me to marry a man wbo would not insist upon a home of his own, and, though virtual mistress here, I meant, as a matron, to be real mistress of my husband's house.— The question was who tbat husband was to be, and I found myself almost hating in advance tbe man wbo should have the right to bear me away from my beautiful home.
In a few days the first of our snmmer guests would come to us; all through the warm season our acquaintances came and went. The house was never empty. Most of those who would come to na this sum¬ mer were persons invited by myself.— I ran over the list mentally, wondering if among them would be found one man whom I conld sufficiently respeot—love was out of tbe calculation entirely—to be willing to receive bim as my future bus- band. Thero wero many whose worldly position might have satbfied my wildest desires; bnt when I bad reached tbat con¬ clusion I could not among them, nor among the merely eligible, name one from whom I did not shrink with distaste. And yet I waa fully resolved, siuce they represent¬ ed all that was best of society, in. the or¬ dinary acceptation of the term, to select from among them one to whom enough favor was to he shown to bring him to my feet before the summer was past.
A Strang, perhaps degrading revelation tbis of a girl's tbonghts and resolves. I do not sbrink from it, for it is the truth. I am but speaking from my own ex¬ periences—not suggesting even the prob¬ ability tban anotber may bave felt and acted tbe same.
I linger npon the threshold of my beau¬ tiful life—the life I was so soon to leave forever—mortwluctant to crosa it, to re¬ turn, than I ilPJeven in that hour. The future then, stretched dim before me, with only mysterious premonitions of the des¬ tiny concealed within its veil. Now, long since, it has become a bitter and sorrow¬ ful past, whose griefs and wronga I hesi¬ tate to disclose. Let me hasten, therefore, lest my pen refuse its task.
Among our guests tbat summer were two who occupied social extremes; James Qraham Lorrimer and Earnest Sinclair by name. Connected by some distant re¬ lationship, and singularly alike in peison, they were the first to enter our hospital
was not often, and unezceptionably cor¬ rect in all tbe bienta.nca of social inter- ^lonise, bnt oold mannered and haughty. He did not please me, audyet he had not been twenty-four hours our inmate befbre I had resolved to accept hia suit shonid he offer, and I had little doubt that be¬ fore the opening of another year I shonid ba installed mistress of that magnifioent oity mansion where Mr. Graham Lorrimer reigned in tbe place ofhis late uncle.
Nor did I swerve from my resolve aa the sweet snmmer days rolled on with; their burden of beauty, perfume and plea¬ sure. Other guesta came and went, but the cousins lingered, and each day re¬ vealed to me more fully that my soul,; that better portion of me so long dormant, was kindred to the aoul of Ernest Sin¬ clair. A new, delightful; timid joy pos¬ sessed me in his presence. His voice was music to my ear, a glance of his eye thrilled me with asensation half joy, half sadneas. I thonght I liked, admired him; but the time came, too late, wheu I knew that my heart had its awakening in tbat enohanted summei time, and that his was the hand that broke the spell under which it had lain a life-time.
Nothing changed my purpose, however. A few smiles brought Mr. Graham Lsr- rimer to my feet. The offer I had look¬ ed for was made and accepted. I was, the betrothed bride of him whom I not only did not love, bnt esteemed far less than that other in whose society I daily passed the happiest hours.
In the autumn we were to be married. I had assented to everything my lover proposed, until be urged me to hasten the preparations formy marriage that Earneat Sincliur might be present at it before leaving for Europe.
The pang, swift and strange, which made me catoh my breath almost with a moan, when this request waa made, should bave enlightened me bnt did not. I re¬ fused coldly, saying merely that there waa much to be done and I wonld not be hur¬ ried, and then, unheeding the surprised, half-indignant look whicb James as.snmed, I abruptly left bim in tbe library, wbere tbe late family conclave bad been held.
I had meant to go to my room, but I seemed stifling; seizing my garden hat, in I passed through the hall; I passed out throngh the .grounds, and soon found myself in a " bosky dell," deep in the grove tbat surrounded our honse. I flung myself down upon a seat, and thongh tbe soft cool wind fanned my obeek gratefuL ly, I felt it burning with an excitement strange to my cold, calm life. " I hate him, I hate him!" I exclaimed, and I verily believe I did, at that moment, ut¬ terly detest the man with whom, in a few months, I was to stand before the alter, to whom I was to make those vows of love and obedience and trust that sbouid never be taken lightly on any lips.
How long I sat there, chafing in my solitary anger, I know not; but after a time a familiar tread oame along the mountain path; tho clustering shrubs were parted, and with a thrill of joy I met tbe gaze of Earnest Sinclair, as he laughingly surveyed me. I ought to have been enlightened, but I was so self, centred, so unused to loek beyond myself for my plpasuies, that it did not even then occur to me that the feeling I was cher¬ ishing was one incompatible with my sit¬ uation of a betrothed wife.
I smiled hack, all my anger gone, and Ernest, accepting my mute invitation, came and sst by my side, I fell into st subdued mood, as unusual to me as an¬ ger, and listened qnietly as he talked of the scone before ns, of the daya of that pleasant snmmer now so swiftly fleeting : of bis expected absence from the coun¬ try, scarcely heeding the meanmg of his words till I suddenly fonnd myaelf claap¬ ed in his am*, while he poured out the stoiy of sdmie as piofonnd aa hia being, as fond anttitrue as his great heart.
Surprise kept me silent, and conflict¬ ing emotions. I see it all, now. I loved and waa betrothed to another. I bave crept to. his arms aa to tbe sae shelter of a long-coveted home, but my vows and my pride alike forbade it. Nature would have speech in that hour. One great cry of soirow burst from my lipa—"Oh, Earnest, my beloved!" I said, clinging to the bands that held mine for one brief inatant. Then I rose up, and moved from his side. " I am promised to James; you must never think of me more."
I saw tbe joy-light fade from his eyes, the flush from his face. Then I bid my face in my hands and let tfae tears, that would not be restrained, flow freely.— Wben I looked up again be was gone, and years passed before we met again.
Five yeara later I stood, one summer evening, at tbe embowered gate of the humble cottage that was my home.   The
; lia rBTofiwieajlierea my dnttea tohim, or seemed to'oare for a^ht but my own i^lfish' plemur^> he mighl not have stnyed ao-wiWlyftom the paths of ireettnde,'iad the sin and miseiy, ahd shame of his lot might have been averted I was not blind to tlie  attiaotions of that beautiful woman through whom all this sotrow came to me and my husband, but I was so accustomed to believe my¬ self superior, in personal beauty and fas¬ cination, to anyone else, thatl had no forebodings of the end.    My pride made me angry when I saw that I waa some¬ times openly negleoted for her, but I did not love my husband well enough to feel jealous, and therefore never guessed the foils which were being woven about him. It needs not that I enter into detail.— Suffice that, so gradually that I snspect¬ ed nothing, my husband tranafeired all hia property to foreign hands.   Unsus¬ piciously, in my ntter ignorance of busi¬ ness; I set my name to whatever papers he or his ¦ steward presented me, often withont knowledge of their nature.   And at laat I rose one monung to find myself deserted, penniless, to leam that my hns¬ band had fled with the siren who for months had been luring him on to his destmction.
I went bome to my father's house. I was welcomed with open arms, but the old familiar places were home no longer. I was miserable enough. My pride revolt¬ ed against my sitnation, aud, angry, dis¬ appointed, embittered against all the world, I dragged out weaiy days of fruit- ess complaining.
I waa to leam a lesson of soirow more real and vivid than this,
One monung a dispatoh oame to onr conntry home, requesting my mother and myself to proceed at once to the oity, and containing a vague intimation of danger to my father. Alarmed and excited, we were soon at the station, where a train waa due. The train waa behind time—^I le- member waiting what seemed a dreary honr for it—and no sooner were we seated tban it dashed off at such fhiioos speed as, bad my thoughts not been so wholly ooDcentiated on my distressing errand, would have filled me with alarm, and with reaaon.
We bad hardly pasaed Tonkeis when a collision with an upwaid-bound tiain oc¬ cuned. Of this I have no memoiy aftei the fiist_ tenifio crash. Days and weeks of utter, blank unconsciousness foUowed —then more days of struggling uncertain¬ ty; and then I leamed that, save Mar¬ garet, I was utterly alone. I bad lost all on tbat fatal day—fortune, beauty, pa¬ rents, home! Into a brief sentence or two may be oompreased ita atory.
My fatber had been for some tima en¬ gaged in certain gigantio speculations that gradually had absorbed hia eutire wealth. A audden crash tottled down the airy fabric he bad built. Already aged and feeble, the shock prostrated his remaining strength. He fell, in an attaok of apo¬ plexy, and died, without having recover¬ ed sufficientiy to be removed from his counting-room.
In the collision, my poor motber was i killed instantiy, probably withont a pang, \
A pair of i»lM,b«fore l>Im,'a rieb man sat
and weighed .-
A piece ofgold—& widowta all, and nntoher
hesaid: " Tour coin IB not the proper weight, so take
it baok again. Or sell ii to me for half its worth; it lacks a
single grain." With fearful eyes the widow.said, "Oh!
weigh it, sir, once more; I pray you be not so eisot, nor drive me
from yonr door." Ihe leoond time he tries it, it juit beara down
the scale; Bat little gnessed that rioh man, wlra lieil
hia gold so dear, That the extra weight whioh bore it down
had be'en the widow's tear.
A BTOST tou t& iiFSLS WitXB.
The Doves.
"Forgive n« our treipaues, u we forgive thoae who trepan sg^it as."
^WS:
l»i«heir8.-'.Wli«n.p*iii:ind anguiah fillad j beginning to the end of the- year—just Wl whole soul, tha, SaWonr pmyai for nothing! ItBOowrfnder,'after all. All thoeie who had oansedi^ "Fathei-, forgive  the other girls makes him presents."
and meioifully spared the knowledge of my father's death. And—how shall I tell the sad tale ?—when I reoovered it waa to Snd ^myself a mere wreck of the brilliant creature I had been, every ves¬ tige of roy once glorious beauty vaniahed forever.
I had a little cottage and a few sur¬ roundings, the legacy ofa deceased aunt. It was my sole posession; and thither Margaret and I repaired, glad to find a safe and quiet shelter beneath ita humble roof. p
Two years had we lived there forgotten by the world, iu tho deepest seclusion, when Emest Sinclair presented himself one moming at our door. He oame to tell that at last I was free from my legal bondage to the man who had forsaken me. Mr. Graham Lorrimer had died in Paris a few montbs previously, nnd Ern¬ est was the bearer of bis dying message of remorie to me, and of sucb remnants of hia once large fortune as had escaped the lavages of the life he bad led—enough at least to keep poverty fiom tbe door.
Bmest Sinclair came often to us, aud was ever welcome. Time passed, and the vows once repulsed were renewed. He loved ma.still, and how proud I was of that love which had attracted all men to me in past years. We were plighted, and I was happy in the present, happy in the promiaes of the future.
But tbat summer evening, standing at my vine-embowered gate, I oaught my last glimpsy of happiness. As I waited for my lover, Margaret oame creeping to my side, and told me, 'with many tears, that she was going ont from tbat shelter, because she could not live to witness my happiness. To me she had always beeh the plain and inattractive child. I forgot that she had become the sweet and pleas¬ ing woman. Even as she spoke, some' thing whispered to me that her unsttllied youth might be preferred to my wrecked and marred woman-hood—that the heart of Ernest was eveu then divided. I bade her go in and be of good oheer.   And
Bunaet gloriea were even tben fitding from the sky. Beauty, fortune, home, all had been wrested from me. Of all I possess¬ ed of wealth or kindred, only Margaret remained to me, and the pretty cottage home.    The first was distinguished not! and few acres which now made oui 1 ome.
,  . ,   ,   J      „      i-» .   , „ , , .when Emest camel badehim tellme,
briefsplendoi ofmy life had faded asthe   f™n,f„ii„ ;p •¦ '
..._„» ~u,:„ „ xv._ X. j.-^ "       I ""'¦"'"'y) « my suspicions were coreect.
It matteis not how I lehrned the truth.
only as bearing the illustrious name of his fatbei, but that lepiesenting the wealth of a deceased uncle, now his own. He was thus set apart by birth and position and fai above the common herd. All advantagea that attract tbe eye and ¦win intereat were his. He was the " catoh" of the paat season, but resisting all the temptations that beaet him, had bent only at my ahrine, and that so coldly and dis¬ tantly as to pique me into nnusuai obser¬ vation of him.
Mr. Sinclair I had not before met.— His friend had asked permission to bring him to us, and it was understood tbat, be¬ fore the close of the summer, he wonld leave tbe constiy upon a diplomatio mis¬ sion to which he had been recently ap¬ pointed. Hia peraonal. advantages were perhapa superior to thoae of Mr. Graham Loirimer, but he was .poor and without podtion; a gentlemaiij Iiowever, in tlur ^higheat unw of, the! term, h it tiDpk,ine !no.lpng.tiine,to.diili»v«., Fwm
Tet I bad never been so happy, even amid the triumphs ofmy bellehood, as now. It needa not many woids to tell the stoiy of that lustrum. I bad fulfilled my promise to James Graham Loirimer, and had reigned briefly over the city mansion- and the brilliant ciiole that welcomed me with new delight as the bride of the most distinguished man in society. I was not happy— I had not expected to be. Con¬ science whispered the sin of a mairiage without loye. I knew that I had com¬ mitted a double wrong—towatd myself and towaid him to whom I had pledged &Iae vows. I was oaprioions in m^ moods,' as haughty and cold to my husband as I had been to my lovet.
No man is pleased to meet only cold¬ ness fiom his wife. I do not seek to shierdr Mi. Giaham Loirimer from the just con-- demnation of his sin, bnt I cannot deny that on my own ooiuaience is laid a part of, ilf-hoavy bnrden. Had I. made (mis |«{fori—tiio lilghteatrTrto make iua,IWBie.
but tl&t night I laid Margaret's hand in his, and knew that henceforth allthe days of my appointed life must be spent in loneliness. Tears have paased, and failing health warns me that the end is near, and so, with feeble hand I ttace the ssd story of a life uselesa, but to point a moral, or serve asa waming to my sez.
 a   »   ¦
The Winstoad Herald very coolly pub¬ lishes the following among ita marriage notices. How many unfortunate bridsl- partieswill see the point: "Married— At the Methodist Churcb, in tbia village, on Tueaday evening laat, after a painfully protracted prayer, by Eev. F. A. Speno-. er, of Terrville, Oaptain Oharles L. Hoa- ford 'to Miss Hattie L Fierce, both of thia pkce."
Experimenta have shown that a man's finger hails grow their complete leogth in four months and a half. A man Hv bg seventy years, renews his nails one hnndred and eighty-six timea. Allowing- each nul to be hs^au inch long, he has grown seven feet and nine inches qf fin. gei nul on eaoh finger, and bn fingers and thumbs an agpW^ °^ ieyanty-sereh -faat and riz inobes:
"What is the capital of France, Marie?" The question was put by the schoolmas¬ ter ofa large village in Belgium,- to a young girl ofabout twelve years old.— She waa talLand well grown for her age, somewhat thin and pale, ^tit with a cun¬ ning, wide-awake face, a pair of quick, coal-bla-ik eyes, and thick, glcesy-black' hair. Like all yonng Germani girls of of her class in life, she wore a short skirt and a littie bodice laced over tho full pet- licoat, the sleeves of which came down to her elbows. But her skirt was old and faded, her bodice laced awry,,her petti¬ coat soiled, and her hair rough and unti¬ dy; itwas wonderfiil sbehad notbeen sent bome to make heiself neat! Marie sat looking at tbe master as though she knew all that went on in the village, but very littie of what waa put in booka, and made no reply.
"Anna, can you answer that question ?" and the master tumed to the fair, deli¬ cate little girl that sat nezt. Evety one called hei pietty, bnt het beauly consist¬ ed in a fait, elean face, a pair of large, bluish, gray eyes, a profusion of soft hair,i neatly brushed and braided, a tidy, well- fitting dress, a sweat smile,-and gentio, qtuet, lady-like mannera, all of which so pleased people that they nevei stopped to examine a feature. Sbe was by no means as briUiant in hei recitations aa Marie conld be, when she chose to tty; but in all that tequiied cate, diligence, and at¬ tention, sbe waa second to no one in the sobool, and now answeied hei teach 31's question promptly and ooneotly.
« Very bad, Marie! veiy bad! Can you tell me tbe boundaiies of yout own fatheiland on tbe north, south, east and west ?" aaked tbe maater again.
Marie was stiU silent.
" Yon, Anna ?" asked tbe master, and again Anna answered withotit hesitation.
" This is both a piiy and a shame fot yon, Marie," aaid the good man, much annoyed. " What is to beoome of you if you do not amend? It is now eight years that you have been to scbool; and fot two I have labored over you private¬ ly, as weU as here; and yet, thongh you are neithei stupid nor io ill-health, you cannot even read well; and all bepause you ate laiiy and idle! Tou hold yont young head qnite too high, Snd flU it -with thougbta that should not be there, Bnt it must be biougbt down. Now, once mote, name the mountain-ridges in our Germany!"
Again Matie made no reply.
" The nezt," called the master. " An¬ na, you name them!" and Anna repeated their names one after tbe othet without a fault.
" Go above her, Anna," said the mas¬ ter. " I wUl not have snoh a lesson; she must bo punished."
" Ifyou please, sir," said the Uttie girl timidly, holding back as if reluctant to mortify her schoolmate by taking a place above ber; "perhaps sho knows the rest."
" Not a word I" said the mapter stem¬ ly. " She knows nothing about it. Go above her!" and Anna was forced to obey.
With an angry, spiteful look, Marie gave np her place to her, and muttered to berself something that no one nnderatood. But all aaw an'l knew that she bated Anna with her whole heart, thongh few who knew het wondeted at it.
Anna waa the daughtei of a rioh vil¬ lage notaty; Marie'a fathei was the foi- est-oveiseei; ho was a man of bad cbai- actei, coaise mannets, and always in debt. Marie was showy in bet appearance; but Anna's neat petson and pleasant manners won so much mote admiration that she felt jealous and enviona. In disposition, Anna was gentie and amiable, always obedient to the leaat wish ot reqnest of both patents and teacbets, and fnU of love fot the dear God. who had given her so many blessings. Marie '(fas jealous, sus¬ picious, and spiteful; a great mischief- maker; a dreadful liar; not only ungrate¬ ful for her own blessinga, but always coveting those of others; and as long aa she was gratified, never cared how mnoh trouble she gave other people. Her school-mates disliked and distrusted her, as muoh as tbey Kked and trusted Anna.
Knowing how much Marie hated An¬ na, they saw, from the . spiteful smile on her face, that somethiug was coming.
The geography hour over, the last ez- ercisB of the moming was now to come before the school was dismissed. Taking his place, and calUng for the attention of all, tbe master read, clearly and distinct¬ ly, tbe following story, which each was to bring the nezt moming, neatly written iu tbeir own language, but keej ing the games and dates ezactly coirect:
" The pious Lavater, pastor of Zurich, when that oity was taken by the French in 1799, was wantonly wounded in the breast by a grenadier, wbb demanded of him a sum of money that he did not real¬ ly possess. Amid all his agony he was heard praying for his enemy. ' I wiah,' said he to a friend,' that I could see him onoo more, to teU him how deeply I for¬ give him, for I assure you he has done ine a great benefit."
" Before his death he wrote the foUow¬ ing note to be given him, if ever he should be fonnd: ^May God forgive thee, my brother I as fieeiy as I do 1 I em-~ brace thee as a friend! Thou hut, un- kntminglyj done ine a great good. Shoald this aoiap of jiaper OTer ireaeh thee, let it be to Aee an evidUia<».tt4,pl«^ of the goodiaeas of God^J^e finenip, tte^^minr of rinnas, befenMHwaeteoB* in heaven
them, for &ey know hot what they do I" and if we 'would live -with him hereafter, we must do as he did on earth. So, then looking to his crossi I pray for Ae«:— 'Father, forgive him.^"
As the master oeased to read, the great viUage-oIock stmok the hour for dismis¬ sal, and the ohildren-went home; many a little heart full, and many a bright eye :wet in sympathy with the paator of Zu¬ rich. •        .
Anna had her own Httle room in her father's large and well-furhished house; its wiudow looked out into the gatden of the smaU, plain tenement next door, where lived the forester and Marie.— Everything in this room was in- keeping with the rest of-the house, bnt it had other oconpants besidea Anna; tbese were two beantiful turtle-doves, with sofl, white feathers, and dark blown bands around theit necks. In the ffaU were two small niches, abut in by quaint iion- woik doors, and intended to hold istatnet- tea, but DOW used as cages, fot the birds. When their Uttie mistress went away, she always abut them up, one in each, for fear of a chance visit from some stray pussy; but when she oame home, and bad plaoed her books and slate where they belonged, her fiiat act was to open the wire dooia. Tery pretty it waa to see the soft caresses with which they always met; and thns having greeted eachother, they wonld next fly to her, perch on her hand or shoulder, and stroke her with their wings, or rub theit Uttie bills gent¬ ly against het obeek or neck.
It was in this room, too, that Anna always learned her lessons. This mom¬ ing BS soon aa ahe came in, she seated herself hurriedly before a sheet of paper, and aeizing a pen, said to her pete : "Tori must have a little patience to-day, pretty ines, until I write down ' Lavater,' ' Zu¬ rich,' and '1799,'  or I shall faU in my
IflflSML  to morrow,   Rjt    X   tu^ &uiuuo  iVi
forgetting names and dates."
Though this was not muoh to -write, it took the Uttle girl some time, for her papa had taught her to make every lettei oare¬ fnlly, for fear of acquiring bad habits; and one of the doves began to be impa¬ tient. He fluttered and begged so hard, that she ran to his door and let bim out. In au instant be flew to his companion, but finding bim still shut, and Anna again seating ber self to write, he came and perched himself beside ber, and picked her fingeis ao hard, that abe was foiced to cry tut. Then again he flew to the closed door; and beginniog by this time, to understand what he ffauted, she was juat putting down her pen to go and grat¬ ify him, when she perceived tbat hia head waa canght in thc wires, and he waa hanging by his neck. Frigbtened and in pain, the poot Uttle cieatuie stmggled ¦wildly, and evety stmggle only inoreaaed his danget.
Gentiy disengaging him, the little girl took him in ber arms, and petted him and caressed him until his fears and his pains both subsided. All thb time tbe otber bird sat on her lap beside his fiiend and gently stroked him witb his beak; eveiy now and tben putting it up and thmshing it into Anna's Upa, as if to re¬ pay her with a kiss, fur   her   afFooUonato
kindness. Whe she again put the little fellow into the cage, the other went in too, and sat beside him, nor would he leave him again untU they wete able to fly together.
Deeply moved by tbis display of affec¬ tion, the Uttie mistress got up and open- the window to give them a chance for ait and exeroise, saying: " Go my biidies; an bout's fly in the fresh sweet ait, will do you both good!"_ Both darted out immediately, and began .to amuse tbem¬ selves by flying and tumbling aud stretch¬ ing tbeir wings, and for a few momenta she stood and watehed them; then sbe went back to her work, forshe knew that when they were tired they would come back oftbeir own accord.
The lesson finished, Anna went down to tbe sitting room to talk a little to her mothei and aet the table fot dinnet—foi the daughter m'lst leam to help keep the house.
Burning with hate, Marie, too, went home.
"What ia the mattet, my ohild ?" ask¬ ed the mothei. Why do you look so dis¬ tressed ?"
Sbe -was a petson of about forty yeara old, witb a kind heart, but a very weak head. Dearly loving her daughter, ahe tried to gratify her every wiah, but nevet could aee any of hei faulta, and believed, without question, aU she said.
" No wonder I look so!" replied Marie. " To be treated aa I am in the school by tbat maater! His injustice and partiality are past bearing I"
" Why, what haa he done ?" aaked tbe mother agaiu.
" Wby, yesterday they killed a pig at the notary's," repUed Marie; " and to¬ wards evening I myaelf saw him and his half-starved old wile enjoying themselyes over a flne dish of spare-ribs and pork soup; no small pleaanre to suoh meagerly fed oieatnies, you may snppose 1 But we had sent him nothing, so to-day be pnt the notary's Anna at the head of the class; and mortified and disgraced me be¬ fore the whole school."
" How did he do that ?" demanded the foieatot's wife—^heiface rcd with passion, but never for a momeut doubting the story.
" Why, thig way, mamma! When he went to the notary's house to tbank them for the feast, he told Anna exactiy wbat qoestions he ¦was going to ask me ; ao of courae she waa prepared to answer them aU."
"And were they sucb haid ones?'' again demanded the mothet, giowing still moie and more angry.
" That they were 1" answered Marie. "So hard that I don't believe there's a g^l in the whole school that could answer them without being warned before-hand, as the notary's Anna was! The whole olaas said so I"
"I never thoughtof his being suoh a man!" exclaimed the forester's wife. ''I nevet shonid have dreamed of it I"   V
(< Ton don't know'hiinl'^. repfied Maria "If.pifavmtld'.isdd-JiimPaThaiir'Oi; a
- "I must say it is mean^—vety mean in hirii torevcnge hiinself on you; but it is a case in which lean do nothing. You must go and toll your fether. He is hunt¬ ing now; buthe wiU be at home to-night.'' Marie wantod no second bidding. Sbe went to school as usual, in the aftemoon; there was nothing remarkable in her manner; but ahe attached herself very closely to the master's Uttie ten-year-old daughter, and took no notice of any one else, exoept 'of two whom sho called "ber dearest frienda." To,theae three she took an opportunity of whiapering as a great seoret, that'tbe notary's Anna had been tnmed out of doois by tbe rich land-hol. del Beinhold, because when ahe waa sent to bring the milfc, she was fonnd with the maid, behairing very impropetly.
All the aftetnoon, howevei, sho behav¬ ed so well that the schoolmaster qnite foi- gave the moming lesson. When acbool was out, sbe was seen aim in aim with the mastei's Sophie, while Anna, at a Ut¬ tle distance, was walking witii the apoth- ecaiy's daughtei.
" Thoae two aie well matohed," said Marie, in a low voice. " I woudet wbich could be, or has been called the wotat names ?"
Sophie looked at hei in surprise.— "Why," said she "theapothecary's Min¬ na ia a voiy aweet giil, audi never heard one word said against Anna in aU my life before."
Marie' laughed maliciously. "Ha!" said sbe with a sneer. "If you did but know how sbe talks of you and yonr fath¬ er, you would soon obange your opinion."
"Abont ua?" exclaimed Sophie. "I don't beUeve a word of it."
"Upon my word and honor!" replied Marie. "I know it to be true, and have known it for a long time!" and satiafied with having raised snspioion, she turned to go home. But Sophie held her, and insist-
•U ..^n/u K.uu*ftu^ nUau   xXuua    UaU    oaiu.
Afraid that she had gone too far, sbe deoUned telling, said tbat she had atrictly promiaed not to tell a single creature.
"But you spoke of it first," persisted Sophie, and since you tell me of your own accord that she has talked of me, yuu are bound to tell me what sbo said."
Marie saw that there was no way of retreat; she must make tbe best of it; so with much pretended unwillingnes.s con¬ sented to tell, if Sophie would promise, upon her word and honor, not to men¬ tion it to a creature. Sophie gave tbe promiae; sbe did not beUeve there waa anything wortb mentioning, and Marie went on.
" Well," said she, " yeaterday, in the Amtmann'a house, she said that sbe knew why your father liked and treated her better than the other girls in acbool. It was because her father aud mother were always giving you prescnta. 'It was a nuisance,' she said,' for many a time they had to give whit they really needed themselves. Bnt they saw that there was no help for it; tbey must eitber do that or have her education neglected and her ill-treated. ' Grease tbe wheel,' you know,' said ahe, ' or it won't roll.'"
" If Anna said tfaat," exolaimed Sopfaie, muoh excited, " abe ia a very great liar!"
"Well, didn't I tell you long ago tbat she was ? But you won't listen to me, thongh you awallow all that deceitful little wretch says. But now you aee how far ahe is to be truated. Only you are not to aay a word about it, remember!— The Amtmanu'tf Karolina begged me not to repeat it, for fear of miking trouble.''
Having made miachief and unhappi¬ ness enough in school, Marie now hasten¬ ed home to manage her father. Scbool was out at ton o'clock in summer, and at eleven in winter. At that time she was in the babbit of cartying to the forester every day as he satin his office the cup of coffee he liked to take befoie dinner.
This office was a small room on tbe side towards the notary's latge bouse, and the windows opened upon tbe little patch of tbe forestet's gaiden that lay between tfaem. This was the time and place tfaat Matie had ohosen for her proceedings.
While tho wife was preparing coffee, Marie rubbed her eyes witb her knuck¬ les until sbe looked aa though sfao faad been crying for an hour. In this state sbe carried in the coffee to her father—a coarse, vulgar, ill-tempered, and cowaid¬ ly man, disliked by the wbole town.
" What'a the mattei Marie ?" said he, " Tou've been bawling."
" If 'bawling' would do any good, I'd do it aU day," replied Maiie.
" What's it abont, thongh ?" demanded the fotestet.
Marie began to sob. "The notaiy's Anna tieata me so badly tfaat I cannot bear it any longer'." and with ber apron up to het eyes, she went on and told him a tale that put him into a most feaiful paaaion. In the whole place there was not a man he hated aa the noteiy, for he b'ld opposed his appointment, and almost pievented his getting his place. He bad swom tben to haye revenge; he tfaougfat his time had now come.
" How dares tbe schoolmaster do ao':"' and he stamped his foot furiously.
" Beoause be don't like me," loplied Marie.    "I nevei bring bim  anythin, and all the othera do; tfaat's it.    If you wonld send him a hare now and then, or"
"I'U see bim banged first!" shouted the fotestet, " before I'll shoot biids to fiUhismawl"
Maiie aaw that she had tonohed the wrong cotd, and turned to anothei sub¬ ject. "Anna makes him dislike me gteat deal more, too, for she is just like het parenta, always making trouble. Now look at her birds eating oui- cheiries there Why could't she keep them ahnt up un¬ til they were gatheted ?"
" WeU, ahe has seen the last of them!" ssid the foiestei, and seizing his gun, broiigbt: them both to tbe gronnd ¦with one shot.
Stattlcd by the report, Anna tuahed to the window jnst in time to aee them faU. The poor Uttle girl gave one bitter cry and exclaimed: " I have feared thia! It is-Marie's work! Why did I let them mnt?"
The next day the two birds were put itt a-boz/and buried in the gaiden; but: t}iwt little' nusbreu Iras- veiy nnhappy,'
tiptnrVftrt jret shSn l^iit imieiit:M;l^i<b«ttorj'but there it vi, pn.ttt, fhim .flie-,J4ota»y went at'OUctS*. the school master,
phauwtwwkidikabi thiags waald g^ ^^dliM'^iaMBti-abarea htt sorrow.   The-
and they sifted the' matter to the very bottom. -All Mairis'sf^eboods aind decep¬ tions were bronght to light, and the sohool-direotoia iiduiediately deteimined tbat she should be pubUoly punished and then dismissed in disgrace. Tbe notary was very unwilling that tbe thing sbouid be carried so far, for he was satisiied to have the tmth known; but he conld not prevail.
Notwithatanding her acreams and strug¬ gles, Marie was clothed in the dunce's cap aud gown, and muunted on thc stool of repentence, when it waa found that Anna was weeping bitterly, and tfae minister demanded the reason.
" Ofa, I am so sorry!" sobbed the Uttle giri.
" Why are you sorry?" asked the paa¬ tor, who was the head school-director. " Do you not wish to see bad conduct puniahed ?"
" Yes, Herr Pastor. But I cannot faelp thinkino; of the Pastor Lavater, and what ¦ fae said abont Christ's praying for faia enemiea," and sfae sobbed aloud.
" My cbild," said the paator, " could you from yonr heart say that you freely forgive Marie—tfaat it would give you the real pleaaure to aee ber, after all she haa done to you, excused from punish¬ ment and allowed to remain among her companiona ?"
"Oh, yea, dear Herr Paator; indeed I would !" said Anna, ao eagerly that shiS did not kuow she bad sprang from her seat and caught hold of the old pastor's band.
Tears ran down tbe old man's wrinkled cheeks aa be laid his band on the smooth hair and raised his eyes to heaven. The biesaing tben ailontly called down reated upoa the Uttle girl through her whole life, aud not only was she from that time the honored leader among her young school¬ mates, but an objeot of love and respect through tfae wfaole village.
Marie was pardoned, and remained for some months in the school, much im- ^xvTcu lu uhoratiter and manners: bnt when tfae forester lost faia plaoe, and had to remove with faia wfaole family, tfae whole village rejoiced and felt as if re¬ lieved from a heavy preaaure.—-AT. YorJe Metliodist.
BXECUTOR'S NOTICE. Estato of Mary Elizabeth HoopeB,;lato of Fnl¬ ton township, deeeaaod. LETTEKS Testamentary  on aaid Es¬ ute bavins been granted to tbe nadeTTilgned all
pereone iadebted thereto are reqaesud to make Imme¬ dUte eettlement, and thoee bavlaj claime or demandi a^lDBtthe same wlll ;preseot them wltbont delay for settlement to tbe uaderalgned. rialdloi! In eald lown. 'hp. EOBSBT KILLOUBH.
ict7 61-16 Biecntor.
EXBCDTOR'S NOTICE.
INSTATE OF ABRAM SHELLY, ^ late of Mount Joy towaahlp, deceased.—Letteie tKBUmentary on aald ettate haviag lieeu graated to the naderslgued, all peraone Indehted thereto are requested to malte immedUte eettlement, aod those having clalmi or demand., against the sama wl.l present tbem wUh- tut delay for settlemeot to the uadersigned, resldtog Id eald.towasblp. ANH H. SBKLLY.
JACOB L   BSHLBMAS, ocHl-6t»4S Klseutors.
EXECUTOR'S NOTICE.
Estate of Catharine Fownali, late of Sadsbnry
twp., deceaied.
LETTERS Testamentaiy on said Es¬ taU having beea granUd to the nndersigaed, all peisonslndebted tbereto are requested tomake Imme¬ diate eettlemsnt, and thsse bavlag clalma or demands against the aame will present them wlthoat delay for settlement to the underaigned,
HEnay fowsall,
residing In Bart twp. LEVI POWHALL, residing In Sadsbury twp. oot 10.6»t-46
EXECUTORS' NOTICE-
Estate of Jaooh Benlinger, late of East Lam-
tsr, deceaied.
LETTERS Testamentary on said  es¬ ute having been granted to tbe naderslgued Exec¬ utors, all persona indebud to tbo rsUle of said decsas¬ ed, are rsQuesUd to makelmmediate paymeat aad those haviug claims to preaent the aims for sett'ement to JOHN L. DENLIKOKR. BliKJAHlH L   PEHLIIfOEB, oct I0.6»t-16J DAVID DBHLISaUE,
fiesldlog In Bast Lampeter townsbip.
ADMINISTRATOR'S NOTICE. Estate of Elizaboth Keff, Widow, late of Mau¬ or township, deceased. LETTERS of Adminiatration on said esute having been graated to tbe uadersigned, aU persons Indsbted thereto are requested to make imme- dlale aettlement, and thoee having claims or demands against the same will pressnt them witbout delay for ssttlement to the nadersigned,
PETES B. BOHRKR, East HempUeld twp. JACOB B. SOHEEB, Mauhelm twp. oct 21-set 4i>. Administrators.
ADMINISTEATOR'S NOTICE.
Eetate of EUza Shenck, late ot East Hemp&eld
township, deoeased.
LETTERS of administration witfa wiU snusxed on eald esUU bavlnv beea granUd to the nadersigned. all persona Indebted tbereto are requested to make immediate settlement, aud tbose having olalma or demanda against tha same wlll preeent tbem vrttbont delay for saulement to the nnderslgned. real- aiding In said ti.wnsblp, HENBT SHENCE, Oct I4-6t-47. Administrator.
AD.MINISTRATORS' NOTICE. Estato of Ahraham ¦Weaver, late of West Lam¬ peter townahip, deceased. LETTERS of Administration on aaid asUte havingbeen grantad to the undersigned, all persona IndebUd theretoare reqneeted to make lm. medUU setUement, and thoae havlag claims or de¬ maods against the same will preseat them wlthoat de¬ lay for sstUement to the nnderslarned, residing in said township. DABIEI. BAKEB.
ELIZABETH WEAVER. Oct 17-6"t-«.  Administrators.
ADMINISTRATOR'S NOTICE. Estate of Barbara Sehopf, late of Uanor Town¬ ship, Lancaster ooimty, deceased.
LETTERS of Administration on said IState bavlng beon granted to the aaderelgaed. aU persons Indebted thereto are reqaested to make Imme¬ diate settlement, and those haviag olaims or dsmands agaiust tbe same wlll present tbem without delay fcr settlement to the nnderslgned, residing in eald town¬ ship BEtlJ. LAIIDIS, Admlulata-or. aep 2e-6»t-44^	
ADMINISTRATOR'S NOTICB. Estate of Daniel Qood, late of Martio twp.,
deoeased.
I   KTTERS of Adminiatration on said
|_j estate having beea granud to tbe undersigned.
ril persans Indsbted thereto are reqnested to make lm
medlata payment, and thoaa havingclaims or demands
agalcst the same wltl present them without  delay for
aettlemeat to the aaderslgned, residing tn said twp.
JOHH J. OOOD,
DANIEL D.auOD,
sep 26-61.44 Administrators.
ADMINISTRATOR'S NOTICE. Eatata of Leavln H. Jaokson, late of the town¬ Bhip of Little Britain, deceaaed. LETTliIRS of Adminiatration on aaid estate having beeu granted to tbe undersigned, all persoos indebted thareto, are requt'Sted to maku Imme¬ diate settlemi-nt, and those baTlog claims or dsmands agaloet tbe same wlll present them without dslay for settiemeat to the nuderBlgned, n-jldlngin Fulton town- •tip. I.BVT IT. UMn-orw.
Oct 10-6et-46 Admlalstrator.
ADMINISTRATOR'S NOTICE.
Estate of Thomas Finney, late  of East Done
gal twp., deceased.
LETTERS of Adminiatration on said Estate having been granted to the undersigned, ail peraone Indebted tbereto are raqnestsd to make Im¬ mediate settlement, and tbosa haviag claims or de¬ manda agaiust tbe same wUl present Iham witbout de lay for settlemsnt to tbe undersigned, resldlrg In said townsbip. DAVID ZUOE,
oet l0-6i-ie Administrator.
AUDITOR'S NOTICB.
Estate of Haik Connel, Br., Ute of West Earl
township, Lancaiter co. deceaied.
THE underaigned Auditor, appointed to dlatiihuU the balance remaining In the hauds ot Archimedes Bobb tt. Henry Barton, Admlnlslrator's oftbeesuteof satd dsc'd to and among those isgally entitled to tha same, will alt for the pnrpoee ou WED. IIgSDAT,tbe4tborHOVgMBlsE,186i.at 2 o'clock P. M. In tbe Library Boom of tbe Coatt Houee. In tbe city M Laneaater, whero aU Peraona Intaresud In eald dls- ¦ IbnUonmayatUnd
JOHSB. LIVIHOSroN, oct7 4t-46 Andltor
AUDITOR'S NOTICE. AiiignedEstataot Joieph Wenger and Wife,
of TTpper Leacock t«^. fT^HB UDdersigned Auditor, appointed
I to diltribuU the balanee remaining In the hande of John Sigle, aaalgnee of Joeeph Weoger and wife, to and among th aa legally entlUed to the same, will sic for that pntpoae on PBIDAT, tho 4tb ol DaoSllBEB. 166', at 3 o'cioek P.H., in Uio Library Boota of Ihe Court Honea, in tba city of LancaaUr, whar* aU parsona in¬ taraatad in aald dtstrlbnU nmayatUad.
JOBS C. MlBTlIf, Auditor.
»«' n      4t-48
AUDITOR'S NOTICE. Estata of Chiiitiaii Bentz, lato cf Eut Cooal-
T leo tovBiUp, deeaaied.
HE nndenigned Anditor, appointed to dlitrlbnta the balaaea remaining In the bauda afSeiih Banta. AamlilBbatrix or aaid daoaaaad, to and aamSlluaalasaUy mUtlad totha aaiae wUlidttor Ibatpmjoa. emwawwDAT.ihadUl day cfHOTBt- Blt«fitiilSo'elodE'P.K,ta the Library Bo«n of tWeeSiBbua. In lha alty of Lanaater, whawaU per¬ sona InterMtad la aald diatribution may attand. <>SlUMS D. a.KBmSLuS, Aadltor.
NOT A BUM DRINKI
A HIBM'CiraCBIITB/iTBD
VEGETABLE EXTRACT.
A  PURE   TONIC
THAT WOI. EBLIEVB THE APPLICTKD AND KOT TS.AXZ DSUNXABBS.
DR. BOOFIiAini'8
German Bitters,
PBEPABED Bt
DR.   C.   M.   JACKSON,
PHILADELPHIA, PA, WTLL  EyPEOTUALLT k MOST OEBTAINLT
OvLX>e sitX 33l£teeu9es
AEISINO  FEOM A
DISOBDEBED LIVER,
STOMACH or
KIDNEYSJ
Thonuads ofoor cUlxenBar* aaffarlns from Djrs- pepsla udZalvor Dlseasea, ftnd to whom tbs foUovlnK qnastloas apply—ire sur&atM
Hoofland's German Bitters Will Cure
THEM*
Dyspepsia & Iiiver Bisease.
Do yoa tise with a coated tongao mornings, with bad taitaiD tlie moDtb and poorappotUe for breakCaatr— Do yon f«al wben 70a flrat nat op ao weak aod Uogaid 70a caa fioare«l7 get aboat? Do 70a bare a dlistaesa iB llie baad at times, aad often & daliaesa witb bead¬ aobe occaeiosally ? Are yoar bowels eoitlre aad lire- golar, and appetite cbaogeable? Bo yoa tbrow ap wlod from tbe stomacb, aad do 70a swell ap oftea?— Do yoa feol a fataess after eating, aad a slnldnf wbea tbe stomach Is empty ? Do yoa baTe heartbarn occa¬ sionally? Do yoa feellow spirited, and look oa tbe dark aide of tbinga? Ars yoa not aaasoally oarvoaa attimes? DoToaaot beoome restless, and o'taa lay antil midnight before yoa can go to sleep? and tben at timos, doo't yoo feel dnll aad sleepy most of the time? Ia yjar akin dry and scaly ? al*o ssUow T Za short, a not your life a borthen, foil of forebodinga ?
HOOFLAND'S GEHMAJT BITTBBS
WILL CUHK BVBET CASS OP
CbroiUc orKervoos PebUlty, Disease ofthe Kidneya, and Diseases aris¬ ing firom a Disordered Stomaoh.
OBSERVE THE FOLLOWING SYMPTOMS
Eesaltlng from Disordera of the Digetlive Organt:
Constipa-
tloa, inward Piles,
Fnlnesa or Blood   U>  tha
head. Acldtty of the Stomach.
£raasea,*Heartbara, Dlsgiut for Food,
Faloess or weight la  tha Stomaeh, Soar
Bractatlooa. SioUng or Flntterlnx at tbe Pit of
the Stomach,Swimmiog of tbe Head, Harried aad
Plffleolt Breathing, Flattering at tbe Heart, Choklag
TBTflr U.A »«u P»In iB th« Raad, Deflciency of Pw aplratlon, Tellownees   of the Skin and Byes, Pain ia the Side, Back. Cheat, Limba, ha. Saddea Floabes of Beat. Bornlag in the  Flesh,  Conatant  Imagloings of Bril,  and great Depres¬ sion    of   Spirita.
PABTICtriiAH   NOTICB.
There are many preparations sold unda thenamtof Bittert. pvt up in quart Bottles compounded ofthe cheap¬ est whiskey or common rum, costing from 20 to iO centt per gallon, the tatte dityuUed by Anise  or Coriander
This class of BUlers has cauted and v)iU conlinue to caiue, at long at they can be sold, hundredt to die the death ofthe DrunJtard. By theit i^st the system it kept con'inuaUy under the injluence oj /dcuholic Stimulantt of the worst kind, the detire for Liquor it created and kept up. and the retuU UaU the horrort attendant upoP a drunfcard't life and deaih.
For those who desire and -wHt have a Liguor BU tert, we publith the foHowing receipt. Get One Boi^ tie of Booflaud'a 6erm»n Blttera and mii wUh3 quarta of Good BrsLndy or Whia- Icey. ami Ihe retult will be a pttparation lhat wiU tmr excel in medicinal virtu'.t and true exceUenr^ any oj the numerous Liquor Bi'lert in fhe marttf. und will eost much leas, Vou will have all tae virtues of Hoofland's Bitters m conneclion with a good ar¬ ticle of Liquor, at a much less pnce than thete inferior preparations will cost you.
Hoofland's GrermaQ Bitters
WILL  GIVE   YOU
A   GOOD   APPETITE,
WILL   OIVE   TOTJ
STRONG HEALTHY NERVES
WILL   GIVE   you
Brisk   and Energetic  Feelings,
WILL ENABLE TOTJ TO AND WILJ POSITIVELY PREVENT
YeUowFever,BiliousPever,&c.
THOSE SUFPERINO FEOM
Broken Sown & Delicate Constltatioiis
From Whatever Canae, either in
MALifc   OR   FEMAIjE,
WILL FIHD   IH
Hooffland'8 German  BiUers
A     R£MEI>Y.
That wULrcatore them io their usaal health. Soehhas beeo tbe case in thoosaads of iostances, rnd bat a fair trial Is reqaired to prore the assertion.
BEMEMBEB, THAT THESB  BITTBRS   AEK Not Alcoholic, and Not Intended as Beverage.
The Proprletoiebare thoosands of Lettera fr..m the most eminent CLEEOTHBH,
LAWYKR8.
PHYSICIANS.
AKD  CmZBNS, Testifying of tbelr owa  peraooal Icnowlsdgs,   to tbs bonoflelai eflects and medical rlrtoei ot these BlUers.
From Bev. J Newlon Brown. D. D . Editor of the hne dopedia of Religious Knowledge.
Althoogh not disposed tofaror oriecommeodF iteot iledlclnes in general, tbroagh distrast of their iagredl* onts and effeeia. I yet know of no aafficlsot raasoot: why a maa may not testify to the benaflts be belieree himselfto bare receired from any simple preparation, in the hope t'jat he may thos contribate to the tMoeflt of others.
I do this tbe more readily In regard to Uooflaad'e Qorman BIttan, prepared by Dr. 0. U. Jackaoa of this olty, becaose I was piejodiced against tbem fur many yoarB.uiiderth6lmpr68Bloa that they were chiefly an alcohollo mixtare. I am Iadebted to my friend Sober Shoemaker, Biq., for the remorai of this prejadice by proper teste, and for encooragemeot to try th«m, when aafTerlag from great aod loogcoatinosd debility. Tbe ose of tbree bottlea of thr'ne Bitters, ai tha beslnatog of the preseot year, was foUowed by erldant relief, uad reatoratloa to a d^ree of bodily aod mesUl rigor wblch I had not felt for ulx months barsre,and had almost despaired of ragalolog. I theraforft ».hank Ood andmy frieod for directing me to tbe aseif tbem.
Phil'a, Joae 23,186I. J. NEWTON BEOWN.
mum OF mun and bladder,
In Yonng or Aged, Male or Femalo
Are apeedily remored, and the patient lastored to health.
PELICATE   OIJILDREN,
Those soflerlngfrom SIAB.ASBIITS, wasting away wltb scarcely any flesh on tbelr booes, are eared to a Tory short time; one bottle la each cades, will hare s most sorprlslog effect.
3F» .-a^ n. 3s 3vr i« fil
Harlng snffering childreo as abore, and wishing to raise tbem, will nerer regret tha day thay oommeoced wltb tbese BIttan.
LITERARY MEN, STUDENTS,
Aod those working bard with tbelrbralas. sboald nl ways keep a bottle of  Hoofland'a Blttera near
th^m, as tbe; will flnd mach beneflt from ita oie, to both miod and body, lorlgorating and not depressing.
IT IS NOT A LIQUOR STIMULANT And Iioaves Wo Prostratioii.
ATTENTION, SOLDIERS ! ANDTHE FRIENDS OF SOLDLKBSi
W, mU tie atteniloii of «U h.Tlts nlallou or frimd. Id tht •nn J to the fMt lh>t " BOOrLARD'S Qarmui Blttars'* will ooro nln4-UalbB of th« dIsfftM. Indacd bj oxposDr., tnd prlratlooa laeldant to emmp lite. Id tbe liBU.pabliehfld Almoat dftilr in tb. a.Wf. . pspon, on the arrlTal of the eick. It wUl be noticed that a Terr large proportion are •offarlnf from debUlty. Erery case of that Idnd can be readily cnred hy Hoor- LXKD'B QzvtAV BinsBs. We haTO no hesiution In itatlng that, if thone Bitters Trere freely need aaonr onr BDldiera, hnndrede of llTes inlght be uTSd that otherwise wonld be lost.
The proprierors are dally recelTlng thankrul laller, from anSererj In the army and hoipKals, who bare been restored to health by the ttae of theae Blttera, sen t to them hy their frlenda. '
BEWABE OF C0UNTEHFEIT8!
SeelhatlheElgnalnraof "CM. JiCKSOH'Ma ontha WSAPPEB of aaoh BotUe.
Brioe per Bottle, 75 Cents, . Or Half Doz. for 84.00.
Bhonid yonr nearest dinggiat not haTa tha artlole, do not be pnt olf by any of the Intoxicating preparaUona that may he offared in its place, bat send to na, and we WiU forward, seonrely packed, by expreaa.
Principal Office & Slanulbctory,
Ho. 631 Arch St, Philadelphia.
Jones & Evans,
SooceeKira to P. U. JACKSON & CO.,
Proprietors. C^For uie hj Drngglsta snd Duian lo ereiy town in the Cnited State*, mays