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erfttt YdLXXtTTT. LANG^STEE, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUHE 1, 1859. NO. 27. J. A. HIBSrAKI), J. P. HUBBE, F. HECKERT vnn TBI ran or JNO. A. HIESTAND & CO. omos Ul xomTH qjjwms ituut. THE EXAMINKR & HERALU lE pobUahed weekly, at two dollam a year. ABVEETISEHSNTS will be ioserted at tbe rote of $1 00 per iqnara, of ten lines, for three Inser- lon* or Iom; and 25 oanu per wioore for each addlUotuiI ioMrtloB. BaalB»as AdvertlMmemU Inserted by the qoortar, half year or year. wlU be ehorsed oa foUowa: t months. 6 months. 13 mon/Ai Ooe&qttAre $3 00 $S 00 $6 60 TWO " eoo 8 00 ISO. vcolnsm 10 00 IB 00 36 00 35 00 65 00 45 00 80 00 .18 00 30 00 BDSXHfiSS NOTICES ioBsrtfld before Marrlogeq and Deaths, donble ihe regnlar rates. S3*AU odrertUIn^ acconntaare cosaldered coUecta- ble at tbe expiration of half the peilod contracted for. Transient adTsrUsemente. axes. A POETIC GEM. In the novel now appearing In Blackwood, entitled .'The Light on the Hearth," are some very bean'lfal IdeoB. We have not fora loag while met with anytblog more sweet than the piece of poetry we eopy below. It Is snggssted by tbe appearance of Little Bose—the pet of the neighborhood—the darling of the hoasehold—In the garden playing among the dowers, and with them decorating tbe large Newfoundland dog, Domingo, who, talcing npon himself tbe offiee ofgaordlan, watches faer every movement and seems prond of her attentions. This life thus Iniplrea onr author; Bbe comes with fairy footsteps; Softly their echoes fall; And her shadow plays like a sammer shade Acrosa the garden wall- Tbe goldea llgbt Is dancing bright, 'Mid the mazes ofher balr, And ber fair young locks are waving free To the wooing ufthe air. Like a spartful fawn she boundeth 6o gleefnlly aloog. And as a wild young bird she carolletb The burden ofasong. The summer flowere are cludlering thick Aroand ber dancing feet. And on ber cbeek the t>ammer breeze Is breatblog soft and sweet Tbe very toabeam seems to linger Above that holy head. And the wild flowerti et her coming Their ricbetii fragrance shed. And oh ! how lovely light and frdi;rauce Ulngle'ln tbe light witbin 1 Ob r bow fondly tbey do nestle Round the soul tbat knows no eln '. She, comes, the oplrlt uf i>ur childhood— A thing of mortal birth, Tet bearing atill a breath of Heaven, To redf^tu her from the earth. She comes, la bright-robed innocence, UnsoiJed by blot or blight. And paiiheth by onr wayward path, A gleam of angel light. Oh I blessed things are children ! The gifts of heavenly love; They eland betwixt onr worldly hearts And bettertbings above. Tfaey link ns with the aplrit-world By purity and trath. And keep onr heartn till fresh and yonng With the presence o f their youth. THE aUAKEE'S IOVE. " I am Bony thoa dost not love me, Mar¬ tha." The speaker was a jODog man of pleasant, frask ooantenauce, thnngU now a shadow of disBapointment lingered on his featnres, as he Btood in the low, old fashioned Bitting room of Elder Grant's House, one quiet October evening. Reuben Kane's fair countenance did uut belie hia nature. Straightforward, manly, shrewd at a bargain with " the world's peo¬ ple," and, becaase of his superior bnsiness talents, promoted to head offices in the Sooie- tj—kindbearted, aud, thoagh Bobarminded, yet fond of a joke now and then—it was not strange that, with all these qualities, the joung man should have come to be regarded as a pattern by the old people and an " eligi¬ ble one " by many a fair Quaker maiden.— And yet, thoagh many a soft bine eye waa guilty of the offence of looking out from un¬ der bonnets of drab ou the Lord's day from the female side of the plain Quaker meeting¬ house ou the hill, and camal meditations, I fear me intruded on the long silences— thoagh many a soft spoken "thee" and ** thou " fell on Reuben's ears, and yet none had power to more his heart save tbe fair blown eyed Martha. Perhaps Elder Grant, from his high seat where he aat regularly every Seventh day— now iu Bilence, now uttering the inspirations which " the spirit prompted—had never lifted his eyes to note the young man's gaze which turned ofteuer across the aisle to the row of occupied wooden seats opposite, where the demure Martha sat; but when Reuben soaght Mm one October day, and though very red inhis face, andwith an unwonted stammer in his speeoh, spoke of love as conuected with his Martha, the old mau placed his hand af¬ fectionately on his shonlder, and said can¬ didly : " Go to the girl, Reuben, and tell thy story. There isn't a lad in the village I'd rather have for a son thau thee." And so Reuben weut with the proflfer ofhia atrong, earnest heart to the girl, and met, uot as he fondly believed and dreamed, a blash¬ ing, timid " Tes Reuben," from her rosebud lips, hut a firm, thoagh kindly worded refu¬ sal. «" "Nay, Reubeu, don't ask it! I wish thee had not come hither with thy offer of affec¬ tion; when there are so many othera more worthy of thee," and the young girl pauaed, as if oompassiouating him. •' I am sorry thou doat not love me, Mar¬ tha." It waa all he said—it did not betray any outburst of feeling ; but it was sad and touching in ita very calmueas, and the girl was affected by it and did not know how to reply. There waa a Uttle pause there iu the old Bltting-room. "Yea, I am very aorry, Martha," he repeat¬ ed at length. " I did not think of any but thee—I did fiot kuow or care if they were worthier—I only loved ikee, truly, Martha." ** I never dreamed it, Renben. I wish thee had uot told me of thia," said lEie girl, cov ering her face with her hands and strangely moved. " Perhaps it is ofmy sudden speaking that thou art mistaken in thy feelings towards me, Martha." said the young man, kindly, hope¬ fully notioing her agitation. "Art thou sure, Martha, thou dost not care for me in the least t" . "Tea, qaite snre," she aaid haalily.— •'Aaa friend, Reuben, thou art cherished, and will be always ; bnt don't ask more, I pray thee. Don't speak of this !" ¦* Nay, I will not, since it distresses thee. Forgive me Martha. I would not wound thy feelings for thu world. Let na forget this." "Thou wilt marry aome one else aud be happy, Reuben," aaid Martha. "Nay, I shall never marry, Martha," re¬ pUed the young man, sadly. " Bat let us speak no more of this. When we meet again it must be as friends, since thou hast forbid¬ den adearer, yea, a tenderer relation. God blasB thee, Martha, and seud thee one after thy own heart, to gnide thy feet throagh life, though nobody can bear thee a truer heart than I have done. Thou wilt not refaae the haud at parting, Martha?" The girl laid her fair, plump hand, white aa the snowy flake and unsoiled by toil, in the broad palm of the Quaker youth, and for a moment they stood eye to eye, fiwe to face. A ead look, a springing moisture, was in the youth's large hlne eyes, and the girls gaze fell under bis. . Hedid not leave a kias npon the litle soft hand he held, aa more gallant loven do at parting, but he did press it long aod earnestly, as though loth to resign it, tben said, in a low voice: "Good night, Martha. Goi bless aud keep thee 1" then passed out. Aud Martha Grant sat long after the young man had left her, with a troubled look creep- log up to dim the brightness ofher eyes, and her little hands folded in a quiet, dreamy aort of fashion, as ifahe were thinking deeply, " O dear, why did he come here and tell me tUfl T ahe sighed heavily. " Or why couldn't it have been earlier, before he told me ? hut buflht I mustn't speak of thatP' and ahe glaooed round the room with a frightened air then whispered to herself, *«I don't know lint It's wrong to go on seeing him—it's de¬ ceiving my dear, good old father—I wish I hadn't let him put thi* on n^ AnS^' i" ft°d she lifted one little hand.on whIph gleamed a slender oirolet of gold, shining bright in the fire-glow. '* I'U give it teok, and tell him he mnst go away, or ask my fkther for me, aud tben I'll never marry anybody, but live and die here, taking oare of my kind old father. Poor Reuben 1 Pm sorry he came here to night—he looked so sad aud aober like.—^Yea, I wish he hadn't told me I" and pretty Mar¬ tha Grant looked soberly into tha fire. The winter had passed with its drifted snows and sharp airs; aud the pleasant New Kngland May had come. Rverything looked pleasant and cheerful as of old, in the dwelling of Elder Grant— every Snnday, as had been hia wont, he sat in hia accustomed seat in the moeting-bonse on the hill, while Reuben Kane and Martha ooou¬ pied, respectively opposite seats aoross the aisle ; but thoagh the young man cheriahed Btill his quiet love, he had never spoken of it again, and Martha was not troubled by a repetition. Tet Martha was not happy. Day by day, going abont her father's house and directing the domestio dnties, a troubled light crept into her eyes, and a nervoas, restless feeling imbaed her being. She grew thin also, and the face that looked out from her Sunday bonnet had lost something ofita freahneas. " Perhaps ahe repents her diamisaal of the lad, Renben," the old elder said, looking upou her. "It cannot be that she is pining for tbat city fop, who asked her of me laat fall. Martha ia too sensible a girl to think long of him. She was always an obedient child, and tbat was but a girl's fanoy. I hope it may come round right with Renben yet; he's a worthy lad, and Martha knows how much I aet by him." Bat the old elder'a wish was not destined to be gratified. Though Martha, like a duti¬ ful child, had refased to marry clandestinely yonng Fhiiip Bentley, who meeting the young Quaker maiden dnring a sojourn iu that quiet village and falling violently in love, had be¬ sought herto elope with him, then retum for the forgiveness, whioh he knew the old elder would scarcely withhold, despite the rigid notions which would cause him at once to peremptorily refase the hand of one of the " world's people " for his child—though Mar¬ tha had steadily refased to do this, and, after the anticipated refusal of the elder, in a fit of piqne the yonng mau had upbraided her for a laok of love as welt as courage, then gone back to hia city home—^yet all this aank deep in the young girl'a heart; and altbongh the aubject was never mentioned betweenherand her father, till the old elder fondly imagined she had forgotten him and began to look favor¬ ably npon Renben, still Martha pined and grew unhappy. At length she fell really ill, and Sabbath after Sabbath her sweet face waa not seen in the meeting house on the hill. '' How is Martha ?" asked Reuben, one Sun¬ day, joining the elder as he walked home¬ wards. " WelT, I dou't know, Reuben," replied the old man. " Somehow, the girl don't aeem to get strength. Come in, lad, aud ait awhile. Maybe thy cheering talk will brighten up Martha." " Nay, elder, I dou't think Martha cares for my sooiety. But, elder, I heard something the other day—'' and the young man's faoe grew saffased with color—" I know thee will not think me intrusive, Elder Grant." " Nay, lad, out with it," replied the elder. " Is it anything concerning Martha ?" " Elder Grant, I heard the other day about that youug mau who asked Martha's hand of thee. He is in our neighborhood again; and he told Friend Parker that he had come once more to seek the hand of the prettiest Quaker maiden in EnffeU. They aay heia a wealthy man, and a worthy young man, too. Did'at thou never think, elder, that Martha may have cared a good deal for him ?" . "Nay, Reuben," and the elder's words showed as much asperity as ever dared in- trade on the equable Quaker's speech.— "What's got into the lad I I thought thou wast ouce a suitor for Martha's hand thyself, and this ia strange indeed, if thou hast taken up pleading thecause of another man, and he outside of our sect. It may be, after all, that Martha fancied the yoang fallow, for I coufesa he was a smooth spoken, gentlemanly man; but I thought the girl would in time forget him, and I shall yet oall thee son-in- law, Reubeu." A sudden light flashed in the young Quar ker's eye, aud a deeper color came upon his cheek. If thiamightbe ao!—if Martha might yet be his! But Renben Kane waa not selfiah; and a moment's thought told him that, thongh Martba might bestow her hand on him at her father's oommand, such au nnion oould never prove a happy one. He knew Martha's na¬ ture, and when this revelation of another's love, which he had just then leamed, came to him,.he kuew the reaaon of her pale cheekB and dejected air. Theu a noble resolve was born in the Quaker youth's heart. He would plead the strauger*s cause with the ateru el¬ der. Martha's happiness should be secured, aud he would flnd his in the cousoionsness of having performed the self-saorifioing aot. " Nay, elder," he replied " Martha does not love me in the least—otthat I am well assur¬ ed ; and I would not, at the risk of wrecking her happiness, ask her agaiu to become my wife, even ifl knew she would answer 'yea.' Rather wonld I see her mated with this young man tarrying over yonder at the village, and for whom I have no doubt she is pining.— Maybe thou hast been too strict, elder." "What, Reubeu! Thou, a Quaker lad, arguing with me to consent that Martha may marry one of the world's people F" "exclaimed the elder." " He is worthy, and comes of a good stock. Tha Bentleya are a good family, and, after all, Martha might be happier there in her city home than pining here. She conld not con¬ trol her love, I suppose, elder," replied Reuben, calmly. " Maybe—maybe, Reuben. And Martha has always been a good child—good as ahe is comely," and a dash of pride was infused into the elder'a tones ; for, despite his prejudices against "tbe world's people," he could not but feel a little flattered that his child's beauty should have attracted the admiration ofone whose cauae Reuben now stood plead¬ ing. "A good girl Martha has been, and perhaps sho aet more by the young fellow tbanlthought. Alanyrate,! wanttosecure her happiness, and though I had set my miud on having tbee for a son-in-law, Reuben, yet if thou art set upon giving the girl up because tUpa art sure she does not, nor can¬ not love thee, Pil have a talk with her, and also inqnire into the oharaoter of this city youth, who I suppose will be hanging round again. But walk in, lad; Martha is sitting by the window, and will be glad to see thee, I doabt not." "Nay, not to-night, elder," replied the young man, from the garden gate, where he had lingered to talk this matter over, " Thee had better not defer thy conversation, but get a little color into Martha's pale oheeks, if thou canst," and glancing towards tho win¬ dow where the pale girl sat, he bade her father good evening and turned away. And Martha, looking after the plain, quiet Quaker youth, little thought what aself-sacri- ficing act he had performed, in thus resigning his deep, strong love, to secure her happiness in another's; but when the old elder laid his hand on her head, and said, "Well, my girl, Ihave half a mind to seud thee out among the world's people—even Reuben wants to gel rid of thee, I believe, since he haa been begging in thy favor," and then he talked loug with Martha about hei oity lover, who, she confessed, had improvecl the afternoon, while the elder sat in ohuroh, to paj her a stolext visit—then the ^1 Imeir to whose wnift^iftflt^ affeotion she owed the prospect ofa happy fatnre with her own beloved. And when—aa happened in the bright Jnne time, mnoh to the wonderment of all, and tha oeusura of many a broad-brim in the Quaker sooiety, aave Reuben Kane—the hand¬ some Phtiip Bentley bore away to hia splendid oity homa tha fairest Quaker flower, Martha, plaoing har hand in the Quaker yonth'e to bid hiin good-bye, oonld soaroe restrain the tears of gratitude whioh sprang into her bine eyes. But the impatient young husband stood at tha door of the elegant traveling oarriage be¬ fore tha gate, and in ^another moment the girl was whirled away from the roof that might shelter her never again in girlhood, and the elder stood gazing into the highway where a cloud of white dust marked the path of tha bridal party. Then he turned with a heavy sigh to watoh Reuben Kane walking alowly, thoughtfully homeward. "The lad haa done a self-aaorificing deed this day, for I am sure he loves my girl still," mused the elder, "but Reuben Kane Is not tbe lad who would hesitate to do this in order to make Martha happy. I wish the girl had taken a liking to him. But there's no nae wiahing now—^I've given her to youug Bent¬ ly, and it'a pretty plain he loves her enough xo make her happy, thongh if anybody had oome to me and said, 'Friend Grant, thy daughter will marry one of the world's peo¬ ple,' I shoald have waxed wroth and said, 'Thou art in error, friend. It oannot be I'" and the old elder walked soberly into his lonely house. Ten years have paased. Thera is aobange in the Quaker village. The old meeting house on the hill presents the same friendly appearance, it is trne ; but new elders sit in the places where the old ones sat. Elder Grant's broad brim, covering silvery hairs, no longer greets the eye iu the wonted seat on the wooden platform; his old farm house haa passed into other bands ; the roses and vines that Martha Grant used to tend are now train- ad by atranger hands; and for theae aeven lone years, since they laid her father away in tke old burial plaoe, her feet have never crossed the threshold of that oldeu home. Reubeu Kane—an "elder" now, and pro¬ moted to highest officea, both temporal and spiritual, in the gift of the Society—looks older and wears a graver face than wheu we paw him last; for the gravity ia habitual now and seema deeply settled in his heart, too. Since the day when Mrs. Philip Bentley came, in her costly monraing robes and lean¬ ing ou the arm of her handaome, proud- looking husband, to look, with sobs and tears, upon the calm, whita face of tha elder in his coffin, Reuben bas not spoken with Martha ; he has seeu her once since thongh, and tbat was In the city whera ahe dwelt and where the Quaker went on business connected with the Sooiety; but sha was in her sumptous carriage, with its footmen in livery, and he in his plain gravattire and broad-brimmed hat; aud the distance was wide between them. Yet, as the rich carriage was delayed a mo ment at the atreet coraer, and he had leisure to note her ailken attire and the air of con scions pride and wealth whioh begirt her, Reuben Kane wondered if her heart did not go baok sometimea to the home ofher girlhood, and the Quaker youth who had loved, but resigned her tbere,—if she did uot, amid the gay pageantry of her aplendid life, hear the simple " thees " and '' thous " of her paternal dialect,—if, in the aplendid church, where she knelt on a velvet hassock and read from a jeweled prayer book, memorv did not bring her sometimes a dream of other yeara aud the simple exhortations of her plain Quaker oreed. In the old wooden meeting honse on the hill. For Philip Bentley, though he loved his beautiful wife, was a proud man, aud grew proadar and sterner with his years ; and her he wedded for her beanty, must uever refer to her old fashioned faith or home. Perhaps, had Martha Bentley been left to herself, in time, ahe might have beoome all, or much her world hnsband deaired her to be; but the very fact he laid his commands upon her, weighed heavily upou a nature unused to restraiut, and when she tumed from her father's grave to her fashionable life again, it was with a sad feeling of loneliness and a heavy heart. Yet she encased herself in a crust of pride and went above her daily life. None, looking upou the magnificently attired womau of fashion, would hava dreamed her the modest little Qaaker maiden, who uaed to don her drab silk bonnet and went her way to the Quaker meeting house on the hill. It was in such a splendid attire, in her liveried carriage, that Reuben Kane saw her that moment in the city ; and he bore back to tbo quiet vil¬ lage, no longer a dream of Martha Grant, the elder's daughter, weeping over her dead father's coffin, bnt the gay, aplendid woman of fashiou and the wife of the rich Philip Bentley. Time passed; and then there came to Reu¬ beu a tala of the rich mau's death. Sudden¬ ly smitten down iu his woi Idly pleasures and purauits, Philip Bently died and waa buried; and his widow was left mistresa of a vast estate. Such was tbe story that came to him in his quiet home; but remembering that vision of haughty beauty sitting in her velvet-lined carriage in the city street, he only sighed, and said to himself: " Well, Martha Bentley is a rich and world¬ ly woman now. God give her grace to keep her heart from vanity, and preserve her from the deceitfulneas of ricbes. She is a changed woman from tbe girl who used to trip lightly about the old place yonder, or ait in the old meeting-house on the hill. Ah well!" and with a long sigh, the grave-faced Quaker went about his daily taaks again. There was a stir in Enfield—that is, as great a atir as the placid, equable-tempered Friends of tha Society there fonnd it poasiijle to indnlge in. Sober, by nile, Qaaker coun¬ tenances wore looks of surprise; "tbees" and "thous'^ fell from matrons' lips at a more glib pace thau customary; and a knot of broad-brimmed men might have been aeen at various honra of the long June day, col lected at " the Comer " in close conversation. The widow of Philip Bentley—the rich widow now, but onoe Httle Martha Grant, the elder'a daughter—had bought the old place and was coming back to settle again 1 The family in posseawon gave new title deeds, for whioh they received a handsome equivalent for money was but a drug in the hands of the new-comer; then wagon loada of oity furni¬ ture came down, and was arranged in the chambers and the old west room which had once been the Quaker's parlor. There was one room, however, which bad remained untoaohed, save to be restored lo ita olden appearance, in the farmhouse ; and that was tha sitting-room, where we first in¬ troduced the reader. There were velvet car¬ pets and fleecy curtains, delicate vases and carved chairs elsewhere ; but this old sitting- room atill held the antique fashioned furni¬ ture, the little evergreen-wreathed mirror, tha tall, eight-day clock in the earner, and the set of bright brass fire-doga on the hearth, while the while fioor abone apotlessly clean in tha clear June aunlight falUng through the little paned windows. It was a strange fancy, peopla might have thoaght, thia of tfae rich widow, aud yet, who ever has turned from gilded oity saloons with their sumptuous fumishlng, to tbe dear old &nn-honso ofhia birth, will feel what a posi¬ tive refreshment to the weary heart is auoh a vision of the vanished years, when life waa new, and the cankering oarea of tha world bad not worn away, much of the freshness and freedom, leaving instead muoh of the cnnut and weariuoBB of safety. So felt MarthaBentley, Asherfootoroased the old thraahoid, And ai) ahetbraathed again her native atr. It seemed that the old years had rolled baok and iinoe mora she stood a careless girl, underaeath the old mossy roof. Who creates au ideal fature to flnd ft real¬ ized? Who places her faith in love, and goes through life without tasting the bitter waters of disappointment f So had it been with Martha. Her ardent imagination had oolored the picture too brightly. Sha had known soma happiy ;eara with Philip Bentley; but the mau who grew stem and haughty in his elegant oity manaion, and oheoked her girlish freedom and gayety, in order to make her the dignifled miatraas of his houae, and the prond leader of faahion, was not tha ideal lover, who had won her with sweet vows In her nalive Quaker villaga. Whan he died, she shed bitter tears, alike for the dead love and thedead husband; then she fled from her splendid home to the olden scenes for rest and healing to her bruised heart. Reuben Kane heard the story of her return with calmness. *' She is not the simple Qua¬ ker maiden I knew," ha said to himself, "and it can maka no differenoe now to me." Had ba known how little changed, at heart, was Martha Bentley, I think his judgment-might have been different. On tha flrst Sunday of tha rioh widow's return, she was seen in her old aeat in the humble meeting-house on tha hill; and she weut not thither in her elegant carriage, but walked slowly along tbe oountry road, olad in plain mouming attire—panslog now to pluck a wild roaa blooming by the path, now to look around on the calm laUdaoape, bathed in the blessed Sabbath quiet, and to thank God that here, once more, the white dove of peace might enter her faeart. And that twilight, while Reuben Kane wan¬ dered slowly in the old village burial ground, he once again atood face to face with Martha beaide the elder's grave. "Friend Reaben, I am glad to see thee," ahe said, turning from pluokiug a whita rose from the huah the Quaker's hands had plan¬ ted there by tbe head stone. " Aud Martba, I am glad to learn that thou hast oome to take up thy abode with us again,'* replied the Qaaker, kindly reaching forth his brown, toil-hardened hand to taka the lady's fair, delicate proffered ona. There is little mora to be told. It is no high-wrought story of romantio wooing we have to record—only a quiet narration, how tbat deep, abiding love of years, whioh had slumbered, bat not died, in Reuben Kane's heart, and which ha had thoughtnever tohave felt agaiu, was still destined to be crowned with successful reward. And yet, thia came to pass bd naturally and simply. That it seamed as If all those interve¬ ning years had been stricken from hia mem¬ ory, and again he wera a frank, plaasant-fea- tared yoath, aud Martha were not the city widow, but Elder Grant's rosy-cheeked daugh¬ ter going about her home duties there in the old farm-house. Whenever Reuben called at Martha Bent- ley'a—as latterly he had fallen into tha habit of doing—he rarely seated himaelf in the splendidly furnished parIor,bnt paused instead in the old familiar silting room, whera he had been accuatomed to sit for hours and hold converse with the alder. "Nay, let me eit here, friend Martha," he replied to her invitation to enter the parlor; " thia seems most like home to me, and I can almosl see the elder's whita head leaning against the back on the high arm chair yon¬ der. Thou keepest hia cane in its old place in yon corner, I see, aud his Bible aud spec¬ tacles on the table. These must seem like the old days to tbee, Martha." Aud Martha's softly-spoken reply, while the quick tears sprang Into her brown eyes, seemed to satisfy Reuben that the old times migbt retarn again, also, for him; for some¬ how the grave-faced mau fouud ctinrage to repeat a story that had been spoken in that old sitting-room twelve yeara before, wheu both were younger, but ono waa lesa wise, than now. And Martha's reply mnst have been very different than fell ou Reuben's ears those twelve years agone, for a tender light crept into the Quaker's blue eyes aud overspread his face, till ita gravity vanished in an ezpraa- aion of pleasare and happineas. " Thou art quite aura thou careat more for me than a common friend, Martha?" he eaid looking eameslly into her face. " Yea, Reuben, quite sure I And I hava thought sometimes, Reuben, that I might have been happier, perhaps, if I had not said *nay' to thy love once," she added. " Philip waa kind, and he loved me ; but, Reuben, I have learned that the sparrow or robin should not go to live in the king-bird's nest, but sit at home and sing in its owu humble fields.— lam not so young or light-headed as I waa then, Reuben, but I shall uot expeot too mnoh; I give you a true affection, and I think we may both see something of bappi¬ neaa yet." " Yea, Martha, I believe thia also. Wa may both be very happy. Martha, I am glad thou canst love me even a littla. We will trnst in the future, and thauk God because he haa permitted our lives at last to meet in one !" and there was something like a tear on tha Quaker's sun-browned cheek, as he lifted her soft, white hand to his lips. There waa great sarprisa in tha faahiona ble world Martha Bentley had left, but aatla¬ faction and approval amoug the Sooiety of Friends in her native village; and, best of all, a quiet, full bappineaa in her own heart, when, atanding up one fair Ootober Sabbath, in the old Qaaker meeting-house on the hill, she joined her hand and Ufa with Reuben Kane's, and thua rewarded long years of de¬ votion, and the early sacrifice of " The Qua¬ ker's Love." The Shoe ^Pinches. Little May waa sitting demurely by her mother's side; Btitch, stitch, want her little needle through her work, aud aometimea deep into the little finger that waa uuder It. Wa find that our remarka upon reading aud vBut ahe did not muoh mind that; tha doU'a tewing in Bchool during Sohool hours, haa apron waa to be finiahed, and she wanted to rouaed the ire of some of our teaohers. We leam to do it well. She had laid np tha say- expected this, and tharisfore are not diaappoin- ing in her mind, " that a good seamstress ted, or taken by surprise. Tha fair of suoh does not aew her flnger." teachers, that fA« pro/etiton willbe lowered "Mother," said May, "teU mea story— by the publication of such trntha may be al- lell me what you did when you were a littlo layed by tha taot that it la not In the pubUcation girl-" but the practice of suoh thoughtless if not to I hava alwaya found that suoh narratives, say illegal and dishonest praotices in Sohool. tme, and almost real tb tham, are more inter-, If snch teaohers are really concerned for the ©he Jamfll pwk. _ #i>ititi0|ia)[. DELICATE HAGHINE&T. I. HEWTpir PKniCE, Editor, To whom all comniuuicuiions intended for this de¬ partment litay be addressed. ter than the lower parts of the building ? BeoauBa the air. of tha building asoends, and all the eold air which can enter thro the doors and windows keepa to the floor till it haa become beatad.' Why do plants often grow out of walls and towers?"Either because tho wind blew tho aeed tfaere with tha dust; or elae because some bird, flying oyer, dropped tha seed there, which It bad formerly oaton. esting to ohildren thau any others "Tas," said her mother,'* I will tall you what I did when I was young; something vary fooliah. You'll like to hear tbat. Bnt firat wa must bave anotber lesson about that delicate machiuery." " Oh, yea," said May, " I like stories about machinery." They were sitting by a wood fire whioh did cAaractrr and d^^nt/y of the profeasion,perhapa they will be willing to have their namea given that the ignorance of anch doings may fall upon the proper persons and the profession ba fread from the raaponsibllity? As we hava said before weare not done with this matter. Theae and other practices ara to be scanned; and it is a true axiom what is every body's busineaa ia nobody's not bum vary brightly, and her mother sent business," aud aUhough these practices, are her for tba hallows; so May rau into tha otfaer something in whioh nearly everybody is con- room and brought the bellows, puffing away | ceraed, yat who will attend to it. Parents with all her might. Tben her mother told her she might blow the fire, If ahe would hold thom down carefully, and not blow tbe ashea about; ao May held them very firmly by tha lower handle, while she moved the upper handle up and down, and aent auch a blast out of the pipe aa made the fire buru up bright and clear. Ttieu ahe amused heraelf blowiug bita of paper about and pretending they wera birds flying away from bar, and theu found a feath¬ er from the eof a piUowB,and made that flyuu in the air and toss about merrily. Then her mother took the bellows from her band, and, drawing a bit of tape from her work baaket,tied the handles together ao that they wonld hardly move at all. " Now blow the flre," aaid ahe. And May took the han¬ dles and moved them a very .little, and a poor, weak little puff of ail- came out, and the feather, instead of waving, just moved down a little, and then lay still. So the child soon grew weary of that fun, and said, " Now, mamma, tell me about the machine." Then her mother called May to her, and, putting her hands on the littla girl's sides, aaid, "Now breathe." So little May drew tremendoas long breatha, and puffed out her cheeka, and mada a great ado about nothing. "Now," said her mother, "look down and aee how my hands move in and out;" and ahe looked down and saw the hands rise and fall at aaoh breath. " Just like the bellowsl" shouted the child, beginning now to see what har mother meaut. "Yes,just like the bellows. Yon draw the air In audont,audyour mouth is the pipe, and the place inside where the bellows work is called the lungs; tho air comes iu aud keapa the rest ofthe machinery iu motion, and so keeps ua alive and well. Much of thia you cannot underatand until you are older and wiser: only thia, when I am tied down the bellows cannot work. It is easy to do this, becanse the whole is made soft, on pur¬ pose to move easily ; yet people do not seam to understand it, so you will see ladies with the bellows so tied down with corsets and tight dresaes, that they cannot open more than half way, and the riba that cover them, inatead of moving, are beld quite still. "And I have aeon Uttle girls wiah their dresses so tight, that thare was no room to breathe, much less to grow. And I have heard little girls, when they wiahed to look trim and amall, cry out, ¦ Oh, that isn't tight,' whenji aaid that the bellows (I mean the lungs) conld not open mora than half way." Littla Mary looked up, for she remembered that very Uttle girl. " Yon wili have-to beliave this, mj child, without understanding it all now. One thing you can understand ; all this hurts the deli¬ cate machinery whioh God has made, and which cannot work if it is tied down, or crow¬ ded out of place. " And another thing : that Qod made ns juat right, and if we try to alter or ohange theshapeofhis work, we shall ouly do harm." Little May sighed when she thoaght of one of her visitors one day, having a very small, slender waist, like Miss Hourglass, whom she had very much admired, without remember ing how very pale Misa Hourglass looked, and how often she complained of headache. So her little head was busy thinking over all this, whUe her hands lay in her lap, and the shining needle was stiU at last. I know not what visions were before her, when she was aroused by hearing her mother say: "Now run, my ohild, carry thia pattern I promised to Miss Brown, and you may atop and play with Clara for half an hour, and be snre and make that little bellows of yours blow mer¬ rily." And the last I saw of little May, she was .skipping round tha corner, doing her beat to kaap that deliostes-machinery Of hers in good working order. ipay comment, and expreaa their diasatisfao- tion to one another. Directora may sea it, and aay it onght not to ba so; yet do not like the unpleasant task of informing the teacher ofit. Who then ia todo thia disagreeable duty ? Who will say tbat it does not fall within the province ofour department, to al¬ lude to the evil ? to call tha attention of our teachera to it, that thoao who have inadver¬ tantly fallen Into this pernicious practice may think of It, and the eameat teacher who ia fnll of good intantiouB may amend in thia par¬ ticular. Those who do uot wlah to diacontin- ue this contraband buainess, and aro unwil¬ ling their deeds should ba brougbt to light, of coursa will manifest their dignity, aud an¬ athematize any effort at correcting this evil. We shall not enter into personalities, nn¬ lesa the leat good of common Schoola ahould most unequivocally demand it. Neither will waknon ingly allow others to do so, in thia department, while we have the charge of it. But we do aver that wa hava a perfeot right as condaotorof an Educational oolamn, to allude, upon general principles, to those prac¬ tices which affect for good or for evil, our School eyatem. If we shonld meet with aome teacher who by a certain course has produoed remarkable and beneficial effecta in his School, either in manner of govemment, or succesa iu teaching one or more branchea of study, all will agree that it is not only our right and priviledge but our duty to "herald" it. So we hold that it is equally tme of the opposite. It is not the exposition that doea the good or the injury, but tha practice of those thinga whioh are brought to Ught. " Belie upon tmth wherever found,— Whether npon Christian or on heathen gronnd,— Among onr friends or among onr foes, * The plants divine where'er It grows." It haa beeu held by some , tbat teachers have a lazy, easy lifa to lead I that they hava nothing to do! If this saying has not origi¬ nated in the practice of some studying, read¬ ing and aewing in scbool at something for themaelves; it has at least been fostered by thia practice. Any teacher that is true to his duly will always find enongh to keep him busy in the school room. Aud the mora earnest ha is in tha performance of his duty tbe more labor ba will perform, tha more busily he will be aud the more he will fiud to do. It is one of the moat arduous ofall the professions. Aud the most difficult to render satisfaction. But he, who looks to his duty lo God aud to the immortal minds under his care, will find his duty plain, and aa ho performs it so will be hia reward. For verily every true teacher will have his reward. Mechanical and HorUcultural Fair. THE first annual Fair of the "HIS- TORICAL, AGHICULTDBAL and MECHANICS' IMSTITDTE of LANCASTER" will be held at FDLTON HALL, commencing WHITMONDAT, June IStb, Igno. and eontinne tbree days. Books are nowopen at tbe rooms or the Inntitnte. 8d storj of Ctty HaU, In charge of Mr. Jacob StsafTar, t<> reeelre entries ofartlolea Intended for exhibition hi any ofthe deoartments. Exblbltora will have their articlen enterpd » od p!ar«d In charge of tbe Committee on "Room and Spore" at FDLTON HALT., on or before Satorday, Juu« Tdh. ex¬ cept articles I o the Horticoltnral d^parrnifnt. wtiich will bs recelred nntil U o'clocV, Monday, Jou>< 13th Citlxens of Lancaster wlahine to i-xhlbit Hriicln" in any ofthe departments are requeued to give eitrly no¬ tice of tbe npoce tbey will reqoire, to poublc the com¬ mittee to know bow mocb space can be spared >o appli¬ cants from Fhiladelpbia aod otber place" Tbe entrance fee Is one •lollar, whicb entitle:'' an ex¬ hibitor to a free admission lo the entire Exbibillon. ExblbitorswUl be psrmUtei lo sell any of tbeir articles on exhibition on the lapt day oftbe Pair, to be remoTod next day. Steam-power will be snpplied for tny machinery tbat may require it. Articlea for exbibltlon are Bolielted in all tbe depart¬ ments from citluns of the city and conoty of Lancaster. The conteota of the bnilding will be Insured against flrefor the heneflt of tbe ExMbitors. Carefnl police and watchmen will be on doty dnring the time the artlclea are in charge of the Committee. For List of Premlnms. see baodblllH. MECHANICAL DEPARTMENT. Jobn Wibb.Chairman, D.Fellbkbaum, Joan A. Shbapp, Daka Gbaeam, Dr. E. Ki5Zbr. noBTICDLTDRAL DEPARTMENT. G. H Lefbtbb. Chairman, Lothbr Ricbahd^, Db. H. E. Uohlbmbbrq. Jauks Black, MARia HooPBS DEPARTMENT OF FIXE ARTS. J. W. Jackso.v. Chairman, Simos STRVEwa, now. A.L. Hayes, H. L. Zahm, Jamrb K. Albxandkb. ROOM AND SPACE. JoRK A. Sheaf?.Chairman, James K. Alrsandeb. may 2.5 _ t<i-2a Lancaster County Agricultural and Meclianical Society. ESHIBITION OF HORSES. TO be lield at tUe Soc'etj's Grounds in lhe Glty of LancaBler, on the l3ih and Uth DAYS of JOKE. 1869. ENTRY BOOK^ are now open, and parttone intending to become exhibitors, can make tbeirentriesatany time by carrespondlng or calling peroonsUy with ths nuder- Bigned at his offlce, NO. Ug NORTH DDKE ST. Entrlea will also be received on the Fair Grounds on the after¬ noon of SATDRDAY, the Utb of JUNE, and from 6 to 9 o clock on themornlBfj of.MONDAY, theiath, afler which time the books will be cloned. may 25-td-2« D. G. ESHLEMAN, Secretary. PHIALDELPHIA ADVERTISEMENTS. DESIIiVEK'S JIAPS OF THE SKAT OF WAR, CONSISTINa of a complete MAP of Buraps, slza 16by26K Inches. j9 M.AP of ike Austrian Empire, wilk a plan OF LOMBARDY AND VENICE. 81i8l4Jf bylftinchns. Aud a complete Map of the Kihdou of Sabdinia. Size 14>£ by 19 Inches. Compiled and corrected from the laten Knropean an- tburitlpfl, nod fiTining tbe mosl complete sonrce of In- foruallon u>>ir ti> b^ Htlalsed. Tbe wbole three maps, handsomely colored, are pnt up in "nn roliiiiie, pocket form, and furnished at the low price uf 7S ivutt, by CHARLES DESILVER. niHY lh ir-261 714 CUKSTSTT St. PHILADEI.rillA. COM ll.e I MEN'S AWD BOY'S Cheap ClotluiigEstablislimeiit, S. K. cor. Market aud 2nd Sts., Philadelphia, O.Ml'illSKS a olioioe aasortment of ^^ bertt. rapHl dnrable, and FftHhiooable DHESS and FKHi-K COATS. HABIT CLOTH, do. TWEEDS, Jic, wltli a couit-lete Tariety of KOYS' CLOTHING, GonKlstlng of Suck I'osts, Polka Jackets, Uonkey Jack¬ ets, Vests and Ronnd Jackets, made of Clotb. Tweed, Alpacca, KBrseymeru, Doeskin, Linen Drilling, kc FURNISHING GOODS, Shirts, Stocks, UandkerchiefH, &c,—all offered at the lowest pricea for cash, and oa cheap oa any Sture In the Dnited States. t3"ParentH'and Gnardlans will consnlt thoir Intereat by attention ti> the stock of Boys' Clothing. GEORGE COLIN, mar 30-3m-18] S. £¦ Cor. Market and 2nd Sts. SPICES! SPICES I! SPICES!!! Pnre and No. 1 Ground Pepper. Ginger, Cinuamou, Allspice, Cloves. Americau and English Mnstard. Cayenne Pepper, Nutmegs, Mace. Sap. Carb. Soda, Saltpetre, Saleratus. Sal. Soda, Indigo. Caraway & Coriander Seed. Ashtou Dairy and Grouud Salt, &c., ForSaleat the £agle Uills No. 241 and 2iQ Nortb Fiont Street corner of New. Philadelphia. HOWAKD WOBBELL. J3"f'nrchaseTS will flnd It greatly to their intereat both in quality and price to bny these goods, which are warranted aa ropredented or forfeited. A trial is s^jjc- Ited. mar 16-Iy-I6 'LITTLE MAEY.' DEB DYCHMAN'S SERENADE. 'Tvas a good zommer's night, an de moon he shone pright. TTn I Telt all zo sholly on gay, Ven I donght I Tonld go, on mine aTvections to show, To a laty lome mnilca I'd May. Zo I dnned op mine Tlnte, on avay I did pool. To der honse Tere mine lofe she hangs ont. To der atr it did ring mit der langs vot I zing. For at leant balfa mile ronnd apent, " It'll pe a rich dreat to bear ciniics zo sreet," Dns I said to minezelf ash I blayed; " rn enshant ber. py tam, zooch a tear little Iamb, I ne'er zaw xlnce der tny I was made " Pat a zash dere tob raised, nn I Tslt qnlte amazed. Ash a bead rrom der vlnder der bopa. Dn on dop ofmine crown, mit a splash dnmhllng down, Gume a pocket of rater an sblops. As Deacon A , on au extremelj cold morning in old times, waa riding by the house of hig neigbor B , the latter was chopping wood. The usual salntations were exohanged, the severity of the weather briefly discuflsed, aud the horseman made demonstrations of passing on, wheu hla neigh¬ bor detained him. *¦ Don't be in a hurry, Deacon. Woldn't you like a glass of old Jamaica, this moming?" "Thank yon, kind¬ ly," said the old gentlemau at the same time beginning to dismount wilh all the delibera- tion becoming a deacon; " I don't care if I do." "Ah, don't trouble yourself to get off,; deacon, aaid the neighbor, " I merely asked for information. We have'nt a drop in the. house." Problems.—Answers and Solations. Problem 35.—A board is 24 feet long, 2 feet broad at the larger and 18 inches at the lesser end. It is required to find the dis¬ tance from each end to saw the board in two pieces, so that they contain an equal solid¬ ity- APPRENTICE. Solution to Problem 34.—With the sup¬ position that the Company haa $225 to glOO stock paid in, I advance the following: A=B-|-J^|C, B=ijA, C=JB. Hence, ? A=^|C, lb A=16C, D=10=AA. And, A+B-i-0-l-D=795 : substituting for B, C : and D for A, we find A-l-|A4-^A+iA= 795. Hence we find, A'8=S280, B'3=$200, 0's=5S175 and D's=S140, shares at the end of year. As the stock bas increased 125 per cent., it must stand now in proportioo, as 225: 100 or 9: 4 towards the capital stock. Therefore, A'S=9:S280::4:S124J B's=9:$200::4: 88§ C's=^9 : $175 :: 4: 77^ D's=9:S140::4: 62^ S353| Heuce, amount of stock, 8353|. APPRENTICE. Dan, said a Uttle four year old, " give me ten cents to buy a monkey ?" "We've got a monkey iu the house now," said the elder brother. '•Who is it, Dan ?" said the little fellow. "You," was the reply. " Then give me ten ceuta to huy the mon¬ key some candy." ^ Hla brother " shelled over" immediately _.^.«.,. An old soldier whose nose had been crop¬ ped off by a sabre cat, happened to give a few pence to a beggar, who exclaimed in re tiim. " Qod. preserve your eyesight," : "Why so?" inquired theveterau. " Because sir," he, replied, "if yonr eyes ahoold grov ifeak, yoa .oouldn't keep speo. uolea on them." " Little Mary," as she was always called, was the light and joy of her home, and the oherished pet ofthe neighborhood where she lived. She was a beautiful child, and needs uo embellishment from fiction to endear her to the memory of those who knew aud loved her while here. To cheeks blooming with the rosy hue of health, thonghtfal dark blue eyes, and hair of golden brown, were added a loving, confiding dispoaition, and a childish gracefulness of manner, wbich made her pe¬ culiarly attractive, and the seriousness ofher sweet face, as she sat by her mother in the ohuroh, waa remarked by ali who observed her. Little Mary lored her book, thoagh too young to learu to read. She had one that was a special favorite with her, and would sit gazing intently at the pictares as one by oue they oame beneath her eye, as if she would leam all that they were intended to coBVtij. There was one of a Harp, aod the lines beneath It were— * H is for Harp, wheo to heaven we soar, God's praise shall resoaod from onr harps evermore." One Sunday her mother was showing-'her the pictures in the little book, and reading the veraes connected with them, when this, oue seemed to arrest her attention, and after looking at it for aome time, she said, in her sweet childish voice, " May, / play on a harp when I goea to heaven." It was but a few dayn after this, that she waa seized with sudden illness, aud grew rapidly worse, till the following morning, when she peacefully fell aaleep, and the au- giela carried her in tbeir arms to heaven, where ehe is now praising God on a harp of gold; while her precions dnst lies in a couu try churoh-yard, and her little freinds who still cherish her memory, delight to go aud scatter fresh flowers on her grave. A voice speaking from her tomb saya, "We shall meet again." «<» Haib of Childfen.—It is a great miatake tb plait the hair of ohildren under eleven or twelve yeara of age. The proceas of plaiting more or less strains tbe haira in their roota by pulling them tight; tends to deprive them of their requisite supply of nutriment, aud checka their growth. Thehairof girls should be out rather short, and allowed to ourl free¬ ly. When they are about eleven or twelve, the hair should be twisted into a coil uot too tight, nor tied at the end with thin thread, but with a piece of ribbon! -..«•*-> The Little One is Dsap.— Smooth the hatr, and close the eyelids. Let the w^ow enrUlna fall; With a imUe npnn>w featnres. She luith oniwared to the coll. Let-the •U&tn kiw her genUy, Al lhe liea WI& tha bed; Ood h«th called hecto hli hoioin, Aiid tha uau one i« dwd* Election Notice. IN pursuance of tbe requirements of the act, approved 3lBt of April, 1&08. the nnderHigned hereby gives notice, that all the Volcnteer Companies in the 2d Brigade, 3d DlTislon pf P. M., of Lancaster Connty, viz:—Lancaster Fenclbles.-jackson RlOes, Man- helm Kflea, Wasbingion BifleH. Maytown Infantry, Earl Infantry and Jones Light Artillery, will meet at Ihelr respective Armories, 02f UONDAY. THE SIXTH OF JDKE, lSa9, to elect ONE BBlOADIER GENERAL. ONE BRIGADE INSPECTOR, ONE COLONEL, ONE LIED- TENANT COLONEL and ONE MAJOR, to servfl for the term of five years; and to elect Company otflcerd of their respective Companies, viz:—CAPTAIN, FIKST LIEDTEHANT and SECOND LIEDTENANT. The Jones Light Artillery are to elect ONE CAPTAIN, OSK It-t LIEDTENANT. ONB 2d LIEUTENANT, and one 2d 2d LIEDTENANT; said election to be condncted iu pur- snence of the aforesaid act. WILLIA5I S. AMWEG. Brigade InHpaclorof tbe 2J Brlgade.Sd Division. P. M. Bbiqade IiiBPCToa'a Office, ) Lancaster, May 12, IS59, J may 26-21-25 Dissolution of Partnership. THE partnership, heretofore existing between the snbBcrlbers in the HABDWA.aE Bdsi- KBse, nnder the flrm of Rdseel k BAua. was tbls day disaolved by mntu&l consent. The basiness of the late flrm will be continned by John R. Rcbsel, who Ih dnly anthorized to Hettled all the clalma of tbe late flrm. JOHN R. RDSSEL. A. K. B*RK. LASCAaTKB, May i, 1S59- [may 11-41-24 POE KENT. '"pHK subscriber has for rent a LARGJ?! ¦ 1, SHOP, snltable for a Carpenter. Cabinet or Coacti- maker Sbop or any other mecbaiilcal hnsinex.', .oO by 27 feet, well lit np hy thirteen windows, with aufflcient- yard room and Shedding fortheeccomntodatioo of lum¬ ber, kc, located in the rear of tbe "Merrimack Hoose" half a sqnare from the Kailroad. janl9.tf-S AMOS FDNK. Scrivening and Conveyancing^ THE UNDERSIGNKOrespectfully!iu- nounces to the pnbilc that he has taken the office lately occnpledby JohnA.Hiestand,E!>q.,wberebewill be pleased to transact all hnsineAH connected with the abore profehslou tbat may be placed lo h\n haoda. 23" Ofllce No. 2G North Doke Street, Lancaster, Pa. fob 16-ly-12 C. B. HATES, City Regnlator. TTJHirPIKE NOTICE. THE Oommissioners appointed by the Art of Assembly to organize a Compuny to con¬ struct a Tornpike Road, from the borongh of Strashnrg over thw pnblic road by Ma-tpclraan's Mill and Newport toa point on the Philadelphia and Lancaster tnrnpike near Millport, will open books for tbe parpoaaofrocelvlng sabscrlptlonR to the Etock of "aid Company at the public bonse of A. Lecbler, in the city of I^ncar-ter, on the 1st day of JDNE next; at tbe poblic hooHe of 0. Dnnlap, Millport, on the 2d of JUNE; and on tbe 3d, al tbe pnblic honBQ of Henry Bear, In tbe Borongh of Str&Kbarg. Said books will he kept open at the above mentioned places for flve juridical days, when and where persons deslrons of procuring stock in naid company are respecl¬ fnlly Invited to attend. may 18-.'il-25 FURNITURE UPHOLSTELRING "SVABE-HOUSB! TUE Undersigned respecttuliy informs bis cnstomers and tbe pnbltc, that he has enlarged his place of buniuess In an elegant and Hplendld style, and keeps constantly on hand, a lar^e assortment of FAaHIONABLE FURNITDRE, ofall kinds, manufactared with especial caro by hiH owo workmen, aud under his own snpervlsion. He alho re¬ commends to the public hib newly invented and im¬ proved SOFA BEDSTEAD AND LOUNGES, which for convenieace and ea<e, ^urpavu anything ever osBu before. SPKING, HaIR and HUSK MATTRASSES made in tho best styla. Ills prices are Remarkably Loiv aud he bulidts a ubare of pnblic patronage. JOHN A. BADER, No. 226, Sonth Second Fit., above SpruC'-, L'hllade phla. mar 9 ly-lG PHttADELFHIA ADVERTISBMENTS. Cool, Kerosene, and Caibon Oil, VSRIVaLLED in BBAVTl, SIMPLICtTY AHD Ecosoayi A poetabEe light, EqcllnlotflDsltr of flame aad similar in appearance to QAS, at ooe-tbird tlie price. Side, Hanging and Chandelier LABIPS, ^^FITTED DP AT TBE SHORTEST NOTICE. . CJ'Any wishing to try thn lAmp, by enclosinB 43.00 by moil, will be farntahed with a Lamp, one gallon, of 0)1 In C&n, half dozeu Wicks, and two Chimneys, se¬ cnrely pat np In on* paclcage. ready for express, P. F. HOLT. Aftent, No. 86 Soulh Second Street, four doors aliove Chrstnut, septa2-ly-42 ^ PHILADELPHIA MICKOK*S FODDER CUTTER. AND GRINDER. FAllMEKS, Sttiblc-keepcrs und othera interested are invited to call aod examine a«^ the operation of ttils machine. Cornsulks are cntAOS very fine, and aflerwards ground to pieces betwoan ¦'^^ two Iron cylinders, provided with teetb, and moving at different velocities. Tha stalks are thus prepared food In a very snperior manner. This machine wlU also ont bay and airnw with great rapidity. We have also for salo— Wilson's Patent Hay and Fodder Cotter. Sinclair's do do do do. Leely's do do do do. BELF.BHARPENINO YANKEE CDTTERS. RAW-EIDE ROLLER CDTTERS, with straight and spiral knives. Common Dntch Fodder Cnttera. Rochester Hay and Fodder Cntlsrs. D. LANDRETH k SON, Implement and Seed Warehunse, Nos. 21 and 2.1 sonth Sixth Street, between Market and Cbesnnt streets, Phll- a del phia. 9feb.tf-ll WK. J. TATLOB. WM. R. BnBKBOBXi;. war. J. TAYLOR & CO. COiMMISSION MERCHANTS, Ann WHOLESALE DEALEKS ]» FISH, CHEESE and PBOVISIONS, No. 138 South Wharves, between Chest¬ nut and Walnut Streets, PHILADELPHIA. S3*^Dl9 Agents for Henry's Celebrated Vinegar."oaX mar 16 3m-lB R. bTknight; COMMISSION MKRCHANT, so. 32 KORTH lyHARVES, BBTWBEH MAEKBT AHD AKCH STS., PHILA. DEAT.RR IS Mackerel, Codfish, Shad, Herring, Blue Fiah, murcb 16 Whittt Fish, Haddock, Hams, Sidea, Lard, Pork, j Cheese, 1 Beans, 1 Dried Apples, I " Peachea 1 Rice, &c., &c. 3»m-]6 WALL PAPEE. IIOWKLL & HOUKKE, Mannfacturers and ImporterA of FAPER HAJMGINGS, No. 17 SOUTH FODRTH STREET, (below Market ai opposite Mercbant streat,) PHILADELPHIA, Keeps on baud a large and beantifnl oosortment of PAPER HANGINGS, Borders, Fireboard Patterns, &e. which they are nelling at very low prices. Country morchantri KOppUed at the loweit rateti. Rooms pa¬ pered at hhort nottce by cArefoL wurkman. The cltlzeuH of Lancaster connty, are iuvited to examine thrttr t-pleodid aHKortment of I'aper befure purchasing elrtewhere aud judge for themBelves. 83" Et.i:()A.\T-VEW sVLES JfST KKCBIVED. uar;iO __^ 6m-lS DPON EXAMlNAi'ION OP THE OP ALIi COLOBS ; WINDOW GLASS & WHITE LEAD, which can aiways be nad of ZIEGLKU & SiMiTH, WHOLESALE DRUGGISTS, Cornerof Secondand Green-sts., Philadelpkia. S3*Every body will be convinced of the superiority In quality of tbese articles over all others in that mar¬ ket. The prices submitted are at all times popular. octSQ tf.47 ^NNSYLVANIA AVIKE AVOKKS, No. 2-26 ARCH St., opposiie Bread. Phila. Sieves, Biddies, Screens, Woven Wire OP ALL IIESUES AND WIDTHS, With all kinds of PLAINand FANCY IVI HE WORK, IRON RAILING. IRON BEDS'l EADS, and all kinds of GARDEN FURNITURE, §-c. Heavy Twilled Wire for apark catchers; Coal, Sand and Gravel Screens; Paper Uakers' Wire; Cylinders and Dandy Rolls covered in the best mauner; Wire and Wire Fencing; A very superior article of Heavy Foun¬ ders' Sieves; All kinds of Iron Ore Wire; All kinds o Wire Work on hand of made fo order, aprll ti'iJm-ig BAYLISS k DARBY. Science Answermg; Simple Questioiis. Wby is rain water soft 7 Becanse it is not impregnated with earth and minerals. Why is it more easy to wash with soft water than with hard t Beoanse soft water unites freely with soap, and dissolves it instead of decomposing it, as hard water does. Why do wood ashes make hard water soft ? 1st. Becanse the oarbonio aoid of wood ashes combines with the salphate of lime in tfae hard water, and converts into chalk; 2d. Wood aabes oonvert some of the soluble salts of water into insoluble, and throws them down as a sediment, by whioh tha water remains more pure. Why has rain water such an unpleasant smell when it is collected in a rain tab or tank ? Becaase it is impregnated with de¬ composed organio matters washed from the roofs, trees, or the casks in which it is col¬ lected. Why does water melt salt ? Beoaase very minate particles of water insinuate themselves into the pores of the salt by capillary attrac¬ tion, and force the crystals apart from each other. How does blowing hot food make them cool ? It causes the air which has been heated by food to change more rapidly, and give place to fresh oold air. Why do ladies fan themselves in hot weath¬ er f That fresh particles of air may be brought in oontact with thair faces by the aotion of tbe fan ; and as every fresb particle of air absorbs some heat from the skin, this constant change makes them cool. Does a fan cool the air F No, it makes the air hotter, by imparting to it the beat of our face; but cools our faoe by transferring its heat to the air. Why fs there always a strong dranght thro* tfae key hole of a door 7 Beoanae the air in tbe room we occnpy is warmer thaa the air in the hall; therefore tbe air from tbe hall rashes thro the key hole into the room, aud causes a draught Why is there always a stronger dranght under the door and tbro the orevioe on each side? Because the oold air rushes from the ball to supply the void in tbe room caused by the escape of warm air up the chimaey, &o. Why is there alwaya a draught thro the window crevices f Because the external air, being colder tban the air of the room we occu¬ py, rashes thro the window crevices to sup¬ ply the deficienoy caused by the esoape ofthe warm air up the chimaey, &o. If you open the lower sash of a window there is more draught thaa if yoa open the np¬ per sasb. Explain the reason of this. If the lowtr eash be open, cold external air will rush freely into the room aad oause a draught in¬ ward ; bnt if tfae npper sash fae open the beat¬ ed air of the room will rush out, and ofcourse there will fae less draught inward. By which means is a room hetter ventilated —by opening tfae upper or lower sash 7 A room is better ventilated by opening the up¬ per sash; becaase the hot, vitiated air, which always ascends towards the ceiling, can escape more easily. By wbat meana is a bot room more quickly cooled—by opening the upper or lower saafa 7 Ahotrootuis cooled moie quickly by tfae lower aash, because tfae cold air oan enter more freely at tbe lower part of the room than at the upper. Why does tbe wind dry damp-linen ? Be¬ cause dry wind, like » dry sponge, imbibes the particles of vapor from the surface of the linen aa fast as they are formed. W.hioh ia the hottest place in a ohuroh or chapel T The gallery. Why is the gallezj of all pablio places hot-' Lancaster .Mercantile CoUege. INCORPORATED BY THE LEGISLATORE OF PENNA Nortk West Corner of Centre Square. Open Day and Evening. Indivi¬ dual InNtruclion. STUDENTS MA Y ENTER A T ANY TIME. COLLEGIAa?E COTTBSE. - DODBLE ENTRY BOOK-KEEPING. A THOKOUGH course of instruction, and actnal practice in th*t science of accounts, embracing every variely or department of trade, Agri¬ cnltaro, Mecbauical, Maunfactnring, Professional, Mer¬ chandizing, Retail, Wholesale, Banking, Exchange, Commiesion. Steamhoating, Shipping, Importlong, Ex¬ porting, IndiTldnal, Partnership, Joint Stock, Joint aud Hompouud Company, Speculations, &c. Practically illustrating varlons methods of opening, conducting and closing Books tu the difi'erent kinds of business, of detecting and correcting errors in Books.cbanglnf: Single Entry Books Into Double Entry, changing Joint Sluck Inlo Partnership Books, Partnership settlements by Single Entry, settling Insolvent Estates, Rnles for pel- tllng deranged Donble Eutry Book», a new and certain method of detecting errors in Book»<, together with many new and important features in the science of ac¬ counts. COMMERCIAL CALCDLATIONS. Embracing a great varietyof bnstnesH operations fluch as Interest, Discount, Cominission, Profit and Loss, Gen eral and Particolar averags. Partnership Settlements, Simple and Componnd Equations, Storage Equations, IcBorance, Direct and Indirect Exchangt^. Joint Ac¬ counts, Accoants Carreut, Account Fiales, Invoices, kc BDSINESS PENMANSHIP. From one to two hours, dally, are devoted to forming a nniform and systematic style of business Penman¬ ship. MERCANTILE CORHESPONDENnE. IllnstratLng the mont approred styles of buslneiis let- lerij, forms of accounts current. Account Salef, Invoices, kc, which are calculated to familiarize the Student with commercial terms aud a^ft}:eK, all of which are moi^t essential to a high style of boslnesfi correspon¬ deuce. DETECTING SPDRIODS BANK NOTES. From the frequent impoeltlons, npon tbe onwary aud npon tboae who have to trust the honesty of others, by the passing of counterfeit and altered bank notes, it is only necessary to say that tbls subject not only form^ an Important part of our Students' instrnctlon, bat often provea to tham of more value itbelf alone than the en¬ tire cost of the whole course- LECTDREa. On the Law of Partnership, Bills of Exchange and Promissory Notes, Mercantile Contract)*, Agency, Ship¬ ping, Insnrance, Bailments, kc, together wUh Lectures dally on t'-ie scleuce of accounta, the upages of Trade, Penmanships, &c., fonn also au importaut feature In the course of lustrnctton fn tbls College. GENERAL INFORMATION. The above are the leading points opoo which Stndenta are instructed lu tbe " Lancastrr MBRCAJtTiLK Col- LKim" and, together with much other Incidental Inform, atiou, on subjects of vital Importance, forms a most in¬ valuable course-of Instruction for the Book-Keepnr or business man. Tbe whole conrt-e of Inttructiou relates tu business and that alone, therefore, tbe ;:>tndent is not led off into any abBtractlonB; bnt pursues his conme of litody, according to his ability and application, antil be is qaallQed to conduct tbe Books of any business what- ever. And If satisfactor? evidence of bis competency he given npou examination, be ii then awarded an ele¬ gant Diploma lithographed in the higheHt siyle of the art, and ne&tly filled ap lo Old English Germao Text or any desired style writing. TERMS. For the enlire coarse (In advance) $S5 S3-Any fnrther information relallvo to tbe College can be obtained by addre-stng Vy letter or calling pnr- aonally on T. H. POLLOCK, President. mar I9-3m-I6 LancaHter Citv. Pa. NEWARK CEMSNT. ROSENDALE ¦WINCHESTER Sc CO. CBSTIEIimN'S FUKNISIUNG STURE, ' AM> Patent Shoulder Seam Shirt Manufactory. AT THE OLD STAND, Opposite the Washingtoit House, iVb, 706 Cheat- 7iut Street, PHILADELPHIA. A WINCHESTEK will give, as here- « tofore, his periional snpervislun to the Cntting aud Maunfacturiug def-artmeoLs. Orders forhis cele¬ brated styleof Shirts and Collars flIUd at the shortest notice. Persons desiring to order. Shirts, can be supplied with the formula for measarement. on application by mall. '^.Constantly ou hand, a varied and select stock of Gen tlemea'H Furnishing Goods. 53*Wholesalo orders supplied on liberal terms. _ aept S \j.\\ Steam Dying and Scouring Estab¬ lisliment. MRS.E. W. SMITH, No. 28 North Fifth St. bet. Markei and Arch, PHILADELFklA. PIECE GOODS of every description dyed to any color, Ladi:S Wearing Apparal of every description, dyed In the most fasbionahle and permanent colors, and fioished in a superisr style.— Merino, Cashmere und Crape Si awls. Table and Piano Covers. Carpets, Itngs, kc, 2ec , Scoured. Pongee aud Silk Dresses Re-Dyed all Colois, and watered equal to new. N. B.—Gentlemen's Clothes Cleansed, or Dyed on i«a- Bonahlo terms, net fl'3-ly-4 CAKi)s7"0^VKDsTl~0ARDS~:TP PRIN PERS SHEET AKD CUT CARDS, BEST AND CHK.APE'T IN THE MARKET. GAUDS FOR Mounting Photograph Pictures, of superior (juality and at low prices. Blue and White and fine White Paste-Boards, Straw-Boardg, &c. ou hand and forsale by A. M. COLLLN'S, PAPER and CARD Wareliont"* 'Wti MINOR STREET, Phi Udell ifa la. Jan 2&6m-9 "HARD TIMES NO MORE~'^ ANY PERSON (Lady or Gentleman,) in the Dniled States. po.'<ri4rtHing a small capltal of from $.1 to S7 can enter Into an easy and rei>peci- able business, hy which from 85 to $10 per day can be redUzed. For particulars, address, (with STAatP,) W. R. ACTON & CO. 41 North SIXTH St., PuiLADELntiA. March 2 3m-I4 CALCINED PLASTER, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL, BY J. CRESSON BRADFORD, 230 SOOTH "WHABVES, PHILADELPHIA, miiy 4 3m-23 A8RICHLTURAL. TO FARMEKS, OARl>NEKS, AND DEALERS IN AORI- CULTDRAL IMPLEMENTS. A. PEYSSON'S, Celebrated (leniiiue Poudrettei 150,000 EUSHEx^S POUDRETTE, ejtpecially uiannractnred for Wheat, Corn, Grass, Cah- bagfi, PlowerH, planting of treea, nnd erery kind of crop- PRICE, Sl2i $1.', per Ton. or 3t) and 40 cents by the bunhel. J liberal discount to Dealers. Fakmeh.1, If yoo want agood mannre^ go to eee the Pondrette Factory of A, PEYSSON'S, Gray's Ferry Road, below the Arsenal, or to Pci/KOn'* Farm, Cloncas- ter, Woodbury Road, N. J., and satlefy yourseWes ot Ihe wupftrior tinalily ofthe materlal. Apply to. A. PRTSSON. Mashfactcef-r op Pocdkettb. Offlce No. 12 Goldsmith's Hall, LIBRARY Street, or FHENCH, RICHARDS i CO., Tork Avenne k Callow¬ hill ^tree:.'*. PHILADELPHIA. inar 16-am-16 COMPOUND EXTRACT OP ROOTS FOR MAKING BEER. APUKKLY VEGETABLE prepara- tion, containing the Medicinal and Aromatic qual- liitiB ofthe roots from which it is made, produciug a healthy and pleasant beverage. It acts as a parifler, producing a gentle siimnlatlon tbronghont the body, wUhont the deleterious effects ofa momentary excile¬ ment. Itis peculiarly efflcacious in diseases arising from impurities of the blood, and is bighly recommend¬ ed for tbe useof famine*, especially where good water cannot he easily procured. Prepared by POTTER a CHASIPLIN, Practical Chemists, Westerly. R. I. AGENTS—D.H. Heitshu, Lancaster; T.W. Dtott i So.v, Pbiladelpbla. mar 23 4m-17 BLINDS AND SHADES, CHEAP FOR CASH. B. J. WILLIAMS. NO. la IfOBTH SIXTH STKEET. PHILLDELPHIA, iHthe largef't Mannfacturer of WINDOW BLINDS, AND DBALERIN WIWDOTW SHADES, OP BVERY VARIETY. He is the Originatorof all New Styles and haa a fine Stock to be sold at I^EDDCED PRICES. BUFF, AND ALL OTHER COLOR.S VF LINEN SHADES. TRIMMINGS. FIXTURES, flic. STOKE SHADES Painted to order. Il3=-B, J.W. Invites Citizens of this County to call before parchaslbg. and assnres them ha can sell a bet¬ ter article fur the uioney than any otber E:<tabllHhm8nt In 5e Dnited Stales. _ mar23-tM7 STBAW and MILLINERY GOODS. I. S. CUSTER HAS NOW IN STORE a large as.sort- ment of Men's and Boy's STRAW HATS, and Ladles BONNETS, botb imported and ofhis owa«-r:»-. MANaFACTURE,a!eoafaIirineofMILLINEKy^^^ GOODS of every description, includiug IndiesH^pc' Silk, Crape, and Fancy Uonnets.all ofwhich are ^^^ o&ered at at vfry low prices and un favorab'e terms At 607 North 2d Street above Green, PHILADELPHI.i. mar 9 :{m-I.^ J. W. SCOTT, (Late ol the firm of Winchester & Scott,) GENTLEMEN'S EURNISUING STORE, SHIRT MAimrACTOEY, 814 Chestnut St., nearly opposite tke Girard House, Philadelphia. SCOTT would respectfully call _ _ attention ofhis former patrons and friends to his new stoie, and is prepared to fill ordect) for SHIRTS at short notlca. A perfect fit guaranteed. CODNTRT TRARE sapplled with FINE SHIRTi and COLLARS, sept 15 lyr-42 T ^'- ll • the a YE ANTIQUE BOOKE STORE, No. 27 South Sixth Street, PHILADELPHIA. J SABIN respectfully acciuaints the « reading public thul he has opened a store as above, principally for the SALE OF OLD BOOKS. SH^Gentlemen abont to form a Library will at all timas find a large collDCttou of Books, of a class not nsnally kept by tbe Trade at largs,a)l of whicli having been bonght at Anction will be SOLD AT VERY LOW PRICES. Catalognes publlsbed every month, which will hefor warded to any addresn, on application. janfi l-y-6 PAULICK: & MeCULLEys NEW IRON AND BRASS FOUNDRY, NoETa Water Street, Lakcasteb, Pa. THE SU13SCIIIBERS having leased the FODNDET recently erected by Ur William Diller, adlnlolng bia Ma¬ cblne Sbop, In North Water Strei>t, be-| tween Orange and Chesnut Strets; also' having bonght ont the Straabnrg Fono-I dry and part>4 of the flxtnres of other' establlehme&tfl of tbe 8»m9 kind, and harlog the mont complete collection of Patterns In the City, are prepared to furnished Iron and Brass CASTINGS of EVERY DESCRIPTION, at the nbortent notice, and warranted to be done in tbe moat workraanlfke manner. Both being practical workmen—one a Muulder and tbe other a Pattern Maker^tbey fialtur themi^el ves that, by doing their own work, and having purchased their fixtures at very low prices, in conaeqnence ol whicb tbeir sxpeuBes will be less than any other e>itablish' ment of the kind here, they can make CostlngH and flnlsh them at more reasonable prices than bas hereto¬ fore ruled in this City. S3-Strict attention paid to repairing STOVES- We are making to order the celebrated CINDER BLOWERS, or EOT BLAST PIPE:} for Forges and Kolling Mills. GRATES and CTUNDER5 of all kinds and sizes kept conBtantly on hand. We are ajso making MILLS, (Sugar Mills,) for the oniBhing of the SDOAR CANE, wbich have been tried and fonnd to he the best in nse. They have on hand, aud are constantly making uew designs for CELLAR GRATES, RAILING, aad all kinds of Ornameotal Castings. 9C9-The highest price will be paid for Old Iron, Cop¬ per and Brass. We respectfaily solicit a share of public patrouage. and shall spare uo paina to please all who may favor ns with their cnatom. LEWIS PAULICK, mar 2-8m-l4 CARSON M'CDLLEY. IRON BAILING. WE have the handsomest designs in this market of BAILING, and haTe the facili¬ ties to mnltlply them fnlly np to the wants of the public, for Cemetery Lots, Verandaha, Balconies, win¬ dow Qoarde, Tree Boxes, kc A visit tu onr place, or any of onr work, will satisfy the poblio th&t we cannot weU be snrpassed. while onr prices are aa low, if no lower, than can be hod at any other flsuhllsfament. MaBSHBABE k McCONEY. At the Iron Bridge, corner of Dnke and Chennt-sts. jtto 12 _ ly-6 The Paria Mantilla Emporium. No. 708 CHESTNUT Street, labove Ilk.,) PHILADELPHIA. The subticrlbers respectfully invite tbe attenllon of Ladies to tbeir collection of EDEGAJJTT MAMTILLAS, adapted for Spring And. Summer; comprising every de¬ scription sad variety of fabric lu medinm and high priced goods— SoUdSilk Mantillas, Silk and Lace Mantillas, Paris Lace MantUlas, English Lace MautUIas. Cbantilly Lace Mantillas, Gnlpure Lace Mantillas, &c., Ac, This department of Ladies attlm, being a specialily witb the subscribers they are enabled to ofier advanta¬ ges not lo he met with in Dry GoodH Establishments. J. W. PROCTOR k CO., mar 16-:im-l6 No. 708 Chestnut St.. Philadelphia. PREMITJMS Awarded to Schomacher 4' Co., fortheir FIANO Jb'OKTKS By the following Inatitutions. IS46. Franklin Institute. First Preuiinm-Sllver Medal. l&J'l. American Institute, New Yurk. Silver Modal. 1B47. By the Committee on Science and the Arts, coo- etilotedby the Franklin Institnte, a special and most favorable report, with a diploma. I84S American Institnte, New York, best Piano, Gold Medal.accompanied witha beaatiful dlploma. IS48. By the Maryland Institnte, BaUlmore, for tbe tbe best Piano. First Premium. 1851. By the Franklin Institute. Sliver Medal. Ifi53. At the CrysUl Palace Exhlbltioa of Industry of all natioDH, a Prize Medal, accompanied with a handsome Ulploma. bearing the particular mark, beat tune. We respectfully inform onrfriends and tbe pnblic thatwehd-ve removed to onr splendid store. No. 1031 Chestnut st., next below the Academy of Fine Arts, wbere we wilt keep constantly oa hand an aasortmeot of Grand, Parlor Grand, Sqnars and Dprlght Pl&nos, to which we Invite particular attention. J. H. SCHOMACHER it CO. uov 17-5T-ly No. 1021 Chestnnt st., Phila. PHILADELPHIA H". E. Cor. Eighth & Spring Garden Sts. THORNLEY & CHISDI, ARE DAILT RECEIVISO SEW GOODS, BOUGHT CHEAP VOR CASH! And inorder to jjutintain their far famed reputaiionfor SELLING VERY CHEAP, they aro determined to sell for SMALL PROFITSlll RlchFancy SILKS—New Styles. Best Boiled BUck SILKS—Imported. Plain POIL DESOIS—lo every nbado and color. Haudsome Bayadere SILKS—beautiful '<oods. Foulard SILKS, Marcellne and Florduce SILKS, kc. kc. SHAWLS! MAWTILLASIl DUSTERS!!! Salln Cballlea, Gloasy Valenclas, Cbeune Kolsiorias ke. Baraaes. GrAnadlofls. India Sllk't. Chlntzss, kc,kc., BEST FRONTING k FAMILY LINENS' CLOTHS AND CaSSI.MERI-:.S! MUSLINS, FLANN' LS, TICKINGS, kc. kc Piano Covers. Table Co^erx. Table Cloths, Marselled Qultts, Allendale I3allts. kc. kc, THORNLEY Jt CHISM. N. B.—In this day of City Railroads, our Counlry, Friends can travef'^om anypart ofthe city lo our store for Five cents. march 2-''m-U JOSEPH E. SMILEY, No. 23 SOUTH FRONT-ST., PHILADELPHIA, TCOMJUSSION JlKKCUA^-r Foreign and Domestic Fruits. HAS IN STOKE AND OFFERS FOK SALE, OraogoR and Lemous. French I'lumti, Layer Raisins, Cocoa Nuts, Dates, Shelled Pea Nots, Figs In drums and boxes. Shelled Almonds, Burdeanxand Paper Shell ) Valencia Raisins. Almonds, \ African aud Sonthern Pea Ssfdless Raisins In Ca>ikit, \ Nnts, Half Casks und Mat^, { Salad Oil, kc, ke, feh 16 ly-12 PLATFORM . SCALES, F EVKllY BKSCKIPTION', SUIT- fiTHl Lancaster Stove Works. CORNER of Doke and Chesnut-sts., at the Iron Bridge. HARSHBAKK k HcCONET monn&ctnrera of Snperior Cooklns StOTee, Parlor and Ofllce, kc. Iron SoUioff, Qiua, Water, And Blut Pipes, Wuh Kettles, and Idght HoUov-vore. JUL 12 I7-S An Earnest "Word to young Men and Ladies 1 THOUSANDS aud thousands suffer from the evU effects of Self-Abuse. The conee- quenee of this crime against natnre are so dreadful that if not prevented In time, the victim has to resign for¬ ever all hope of happiness in this life. Having cured thoUBauds.aod restored them to ahappy and neefal life. I hereby olfer my services with tbe assurance that any confidence put In ms will not he betrayed . , Tbe medicine WiU bo sent to any part of the United Btates, and is pnt np in packages, each containing suf- flcleot to effect a cure. PRICE 35- Dr, FKLIX BEDHON. H.E. Cor. of CALLOWHILL 8t.,4r0RKAVENDE, pHtLAnBLFHIA. R. B. AU other difieosea of hoth saxes of a private or delicate natnre sneeessfnlly treated on persooal «p pUeatloa or by letter, itaUng fall parUooUrs of symp toms. oet ft-ly-tf o _ ABLE FOR RAILROADJ ic.for weighiogjt^? hay, coal.oreand merchandise generally. Porchas- j[ era rnn no rUk, every scale is guaranteed correct,*^* and if, after trial, oot found satinfaciory, can be returned without charge. B3*Factory at the old stand, established for mor» than thirty-live ye^rs. ABBOTT k CO., Corner of Ninth and Melon Streets. mar23-tf-n PniLADELPiiiA. JAMES MITTON, TKA DKALEll, 103 Soutli Se-.p--.^ COND Street, below Chfi«lnat. and S21|fi^^S3 RACE Streel. above Eighth, PmLAUKLPHlA,g.J>lftH keflps a choice selection gf the very fiuo«t TEAS viSiaM and COFFEES Imported. Having been engaged for manyyears In the Tea busiuess, his f.iciritltM for por- choHlcg in the best markets, principally Sew York, en¬ ablea him to give the fnlledt sa.tisfactioa. Jan 6 ^ 6-1 yr_ LIGHTNING RODS. TO all who iutend protecting their prop¬ erty from lightnin'i. a few r«ts may notba unwelcome. THE ELECTRO MAGNET LIGHTNING ROD has heen before the public Ur twenty years ; hart been the means of saving a vaxtdeal of propTty and many lives, and has never In a single instance fniled ti> meet the highest especutlons of lis value. Hundreds of our own citizens can tentify from theirown know! odgeof its ability to protect property in cafoty; who bave beeo eye witnesses where bulldlngif, pnbilc and private, chnrehea and HCbool-honseB. have been eaved from destruction—the rod receiving and carrying harm- leas to the groand strobeK which bnl for them would have cansed the total roin of the building and all within it. The saperiority of thsito rods over any others In ni*e. has been tctlflud to by men who have nn snperiors in general hclence or In this department. Recommenda- ilouB <o the namber of six thonsand can be fieen at the factorT. TAe United Slides Patent Office is protected by my Rods, having been selected from all uthers in use as the best and most reliable. Considering the character and poslUon of the men who have ebarge of that Institu¬ tion, no higher testimony could be deiilred. Persona realding at a distance dbocld be on tholr guard against a olass of swindlers who by false repre¬ sentations of every dsucriptlon, seek to mislead the Where my Agents are not personally known aa such, the only safa pUn Is to apply, by letter or otherwise, at B:;^Weather Vanet, Cardinal Points, Spire Rods, and allmanner of S'a-oW and Fancy Iton Worfc^ to suit aU characters of JrcAifccfuriT, got np In the neatest and xuost durable manner, at 'l-^SSsTEfiTAQB, U.EtteUc LlKhUlDg Sod »nd Weathtr Vm. F.«torT. So 1206 TOK Stt..t, .boT. Twrifll^ PHILADELPHIA. much SO Sm-13
Object Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 33 |
Issue | 27 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1859-06-01 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 06 |
Day | 01 |
Year | 1859 |
Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 33 |
Issue | 27 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1859-06-01 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Digital Specifications | Image was scanned by OCLC at the Preservation Service Center in Bethlehem, PA. Archival Image is a 1-bit bitonal tiff that was scanned from microfilm at 300 dpi. The original file size was 859 kilobytes. |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 06 |
Day | 01 |
Year | 1859 |
Page | 1 |
Resource Identifier | 18590601_001.tif |
Full Text |
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LANG^STEE, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUHE 1, 1859.
NO. 27.
J. A. HIBSrAKI), J. P. HUBBE, F. HECKERT vnn TBI ran or
JNO. A. HIESTAND & CO.
omos Ul xomTH qjjwms ituut. THE EXAMINKR & HERALU
lE pobUahed weekly, at two dollam a year.
ABVEETISEHSNTS will be ioserted at tbe
rote of $1 00 per iqnara, of ten lines, for three Inser- lon* or Iom; and 25 oanu per wioore for each addlUotuiI ioMrtloB. BaalB»as AdvertlMmemU Inserted by the qoortar, half year or year. wlU be ehorsed oa foUowa: t months. 6 months. 13 mon/Ai
Ooe&qttAre $3 00 $S 00 $6 60
TWO " eoo 8 00 ISO.
vcolnsm 10 00 IB 00 36 00
35 00 65 00
45 00 80 00
.18 00 30 00
BDSXHfiSS NOTICES ioBsrtfld before Marrlogeq and Deaths, donble ihe regnlar rates.
S3*AU odrertUIn^ acconntaare cosaldered coUecta- ble at tbe expiration of half the peilod contracted for. Transient adTsrUsemente. axes.
A POETIC GEM.
In the novel now appearing In Blackwood, entitled .'The Light on the Hearth," are some very bean'lfal IdeoB. We have not fora loag while met with anytblog more sweet than the piece of poetry we eopy below. It Is snggssted by tbe appearance of Little Bose—the pet of the neighborhood—the darling of the hoasehold—In the garden playing among the dowers, and with them decorating tbe large Newfoundland dog, Domingo, who, talcing npon himself tbe offiee ofgaordlan, watches faer every movement and seems prond of her attentions. This life thus Iniplrea onr author;
Bbe comes with fairy footsteps;
Softly their echoes fall; And her shadow plays like a sammer shade
Acrosa the garden wall- Tbe goldea llgbt Is dancing bright,
'Mid the mazes ofher balr, And ber fair young locks are waving free
To the wooing ufthe air.
Like a spartful fawn she boundeth
6o gleefnlly aloog. And as a wild young bird she carolletb
The burden ofasong. The summer flowere are cludlering thick
Aroand ber dancing feet. And on ber cbeek the t>ammer breeze
Is breatblog soft and sweet
Tbe very toabeam seems to linger
Above that holy head. And the wild flowerti et her coming
Their ricbetii fragrance shed. And oh ! how lovely light and frdi;rauce
Ulngle'ln tbe light witbin 1 Ob r bow fondly tbey do nestle
Round the soul tbat knows no eln '.
She, comes, the oplrlt uf i>ur childhood—
A thing of mortal birth, Tet bearing atill a breath of Heaven,
To redf^tu her from the earth. She comes, la bright-robed innocence,
UnsoiJed by blot or blight. And paiiheth by onr wayward path,
A gleam of angel light.
Oh I blessed things are children !
The gifts of heavenly love; They eland betwixt onr worldly hearts
And bettertbings above. Tfaey link ns with the aplrit-world
By purity and trath. And keep onr heartn till fresh and yonng
With the presence o f their youth.
THE aUAKEE'S IOVE.
" I am Bony thoa dost not love me, Mar¬ tha."
The speaker was a jODog man of pleasant, frask ooantenauce, thnngU now a shadow of disBapointment lingered on his featnres, as he Btood in the low, old fashioned Bitting room of Elder Grant's House, one quiet October evening.
Reuben Kane's fair countenance did uut belie hia nature. Straightforward, manly, shrewd at a bargain with " the world's peo¬ ple," and, becaase of his superior bnsiness talents, promoted to head offices in the Sooie- tj—kindbearted, aud, thoagh Bobarminded, yet fond of a joke now and then—it was not strange that, with all these qualities, the joung man should have come to be regarded as a pattern by the old people and an " eligi¬ ble one " by many a fair Quaker maiden.— And yet, thoagh many a soft bine eye waa guilty of the offence of looking out from un¬ der bonnets of drab ou the Lord's day from the female side of the plain Quaker meeting¬ house ou the hill, and camal meditations, I fear me intruded on the long silences— thoagh many a soft spoken "thee" and ** thou " fell on Reuben's ears, and yet none had power to more his heart save tbe fair blown eyed Martha.
Perhaps Elder Grant, from his high seat where he aat regularly every Seventh day— now iu Bilence, now uttering the inspirations which " the spirit prompted—had never lifted his eyes to note the young man's gaze which turned ofteuer across the aisle to the row of occupied wooden seats opposite, where the demure Martha sat; but when Reuben soaght Mm one October day, and though very red inhis face, andwith an unwonted stammer in his speeoh, spoke of love as conuected with his Martha, the old mau placed his hand af¬ fectionately on his shonlder, and said can¬ didly :
" Go to the girl, Reuben, and tell thy story. There isn't a lad in the village I'd rather have for a son thau thee."
And so Reuben weut with the proflfer ofhia atrong, earnest heart to the girl, and met, uot as he fondly believed and dreamed, a blash¬ ing, timid " Tes Reuben," from her rosebud lips, hut a firm, thoagh kindly worded refu¬ sal. «"
"Nay, Reubeu, don't ask it! I wish thee had not come hither with thy offer of affec¬ tion; when there are so many othera more worthy of thee," and the young girl pauaed, as if oompassiouating him.
•' I am sorry thou doat not love me, Mar¬ tha." It waa all he said—it did not betray any outburst of feeling ; but it was sad and touching in ita very calmueas, and the girl was affected by it and did not know how to reply.
There waa a Uttle pause there iu the old Bltting-room.
"Yea, I am very aorry, Martha," he repeat¬ ed at length. " I did not think of any but thee—I did fiot kuow or care if they were worthier—I only loved ikee, truly, Martha."
** I never dreamed it, Renben. I wish thee had uot told me of thia," said lEie girl, cov ering her face with her hands and strangely moved.
" Perhaps it is ofmy sudden speaking that thou art mistaken in thy feelings towards me, Martha." said the young man, kindly, hope¬ fully notioing her agitation. "Art thou sure, Martha, thou dost not care for me in the least t" .
"Tea, qaite snre," she aaid haalily.— •'Aaa friend, Reuben, thou art cherished, and will be always ; bnt don't ask more, I pray thee. Don't speak of this !"
¦* Nay, I will not, since it distresses thee.
Forgive me Martha. I would not wound thy
feelings for thu world. Let na forget this."
"Thou wilt marry aome one else aud be
happy, Reuben," aaid Martha.
"Nay, I shall never marry, Martha," re¬ pUed the young man, sadly. " Bat let us speak no more of this. When we meet again it must be as friends, since thou hast forbid¬ den adearer, yea, a tenderer relation. God blasB thee, Martha, and seud thee one after thy own heart, to gnide thy feet throagh life, though nobody can bear thee a truer heart than I have done. Thou wilt not refaae the haud at parting, Martha?"
The girl laid her fair, plump hand, white aa the snowy flake and unsoiled by toil, in the broad palm of the Quaker youth, and for a moment they stood eye to eye, fiwe to face. A ead look, a springing moisture, was in the youth's large hlne eyes, and the girls gaze fell under bis. . Hedid not leave a kias npon the litle soft hand he held, aa more gallant loven do at parting, but he did press it long aod earnestly, as though loth to resign it, tben said, in a low voice:
"Good night, Martha. Goi bless aud keep thee 1" then passed out.
Aud Martha Grant sat long after the young man had left her, with a troubled look creep- log up to dim the brightness ofher eyes, and her little hands folded in a quiet, dreamy aort of fashion, as ifahe were thinking deeply, " O dear, why did he come here and tell me tUfl T ahe sighed heavily. " Or why couldn't it have been earlier, before he told me ? hut buflht I mustn't speak of thatP' and ahe glaooed round the room with a frightened air then whispered to herself, *«I don't know lint It's wrong to go on seeing him—it's de¬ ceiving my dear, good old father—I wish I
hadn't let him put thi* on n^ AnS^' i" ft°d she lifted one little hand.on whIph gleamed a slender oirolet of gold, shining bright in the fire-glow. '* I'U give it teok, and tell him he mnst go away, or ask my fkther for me, aud tben I'll never marry anybody, but live and die here, taking oare of my kind old father. Poor Reuben 1 Pm sorry he came here to night—he looked so sad aud aober like.—^Yea, I wish he hadn't told me I" and pretty Mar¬ tha Grant looked soberly into tha fire.
The winter had passed with its drifted snows and sharp airs; aud the pleasant New Kngland May had come.
Rverything looked pleasant and cheerful as of old, in the dwelling of Elder Grant— every Snnday, as had been hia wont, he sat in hia accustomed seat in the moeting-bonse on the hill, while Reuben Kane and Martha ooou¬ pied, respectively opposite seats aoross the aisle ; but thoagh the young man cheriahed Btill his quiet love, he had never spoken of it again, and Martha was not troubled by a repetition.
Tet Martha was not happy. Day by day, going abont her father's house and directing the domestio dnties, a troubled light crept into her eyes, and a nervoas, restless feeling imbaed her being. She grew thin also, and the face that looked out from her Sunday bonnet had lost something ofita freahneas.
" Perhaps ahe repents her diamisaal of the lad, Renben," the old elder said, looking upou her. "It cannot be that she is pining for tbat city fop, who asked her of me laat fall. Martha ia too sensible a girl to think long of him. She was always an obedient child, and tbat was but a girl's fanoy. I hope it may come round right with Renben yet; he's a worthy lad, and Martha knows how much I aet by him."
Bat the old elder'a wish was not destined to be gratified. Though Martha, like a duti¬ ful child, had refased to marry clandestinely yonng Fhiiip Bentley, who meeting the young Quaker maiden dnring a sojourn iu that quiet village and falling violently in love, had be¬ sought herto elope with him, then retum for the forgiveness, whioh he knew the old elder would scarcely withhold, despite the rigid notions which would cause him at once to peremptorily refase the hand of one of the " world's people " for his child—though Mar¬ tha had steadily refased to do this, and, after the anticipated refusal of the elder, in a fit of piqne the yonng mau had upbraided her for a laok of love as welt as courage, then gone back to hia city home—^yet all this aank deep in the young girl'a heart; and altbongh the aubject was never mentioned betweenherand her father, till the old elder fondly imagined she had forgotten him and began to look favor¬ ably npon Renben, still Martha pined and grew unhappy.
At length she fell really ill, and Sabbath after Sabbath her sweet face waa not seen in the meeting house on the hill.
'' How is Martha ?" asked Reuben, one Sun¬ day, joining the elder as he walked home¬ wards.
" WelT, I dou't know, Reuben," replied the old man. " Somehow, the girl don't aeem to get strength. Come in, lad, aud ait awhile. Maybe thy cheering talk will brighten up Martha."
" Nay, elder, I dou't think Martha cares for my sooiety. But, elder, I heard something the other day—'' and the young man's faoe grew saffased with color—" I know thee will not think me intrusive, Elder Grant."
" Nay, lad, out with it," replied the elder. " Is it anything concerning Martha ?"
" Elder Grant, I heard the other day about that youug mau who asked Martha's hand of thee. He is in our neighborhood again; and he told Friend Parker that he had come once more to seek the hand of the prettiest Quaker maiden in EnffeU. They aay heia a wealthy man, and a worthy young man, too. Did'at thou never think, elder, that Martha may have cared a good deal for him ?" . "Nay, Reuben," and the elder's words showed as much asperity as ever dared in- trade on the equable Quaker's speech.— "What's got into the lad I I thought thou wast ouce a suitor for Martha's hand thyself, and this ia strange indeed, if thou hast taken up pleading thecause of another man, and he outside of our sect. It may be, after all, that Martha fancied the yoang fallow, for I coufesa he was a smooth spoken, gentlemanly man; but I thought the girl would in time forget him, and I shall yet oall thee son-in- law, Reubeu."
A sudden light flashed in the young Quar ker's eye, aud a deeper color came upon his cheek. If thiamightbe ao!—if Martha might yet be his!
But Renben Kane waa not selfiah; and a moment's thought told him that, thongh Martba might bestow her hand on him at her father's oommand, such au nnion oould never prove a happy one. He knew Martha's na¬ ture, and when this revelation of another's love, which he had just then leamed, came to him,.he kuew the reaaon of her pale cheekB and dejected air. Theu a noble resolve was born in the Quaker youth's heart. He would plead the strauger*s cause with the ateru el¬ der. Martha's happiness should be secured, aud he would flnd his in the cousoionsness of having performed the self-saorifioing aot.
" Nay, elder," he replied " Martha does not love me in the least—otthat I am well assur¬ ed ; and I would not, at the risk of wrecking her happiness, ask her agaiu to become my wife, even ifl knew she would answer 'yea.' Rather wonld I see her mated with this young man tarrying over yonder at the village, and for whom I have no doubt she is pining.— Maybe thou hast been too strict, elder."
"What, Reubeu! Thou, a Quaker lad, arguing with me to consent that Martha may marry one of the world's people F" "exclaimed the elder."
" He is worthy, and comes of a good stock. Tha Bentleya are a good family, and, after all, Martha might be happier there in her city home than pining here. She conld not con¬ trol her love, I suppose, elder," replied Reuben, calmly.
" Maybe—maybe, Reuben. And Martha has always been a good child—good as ahe is comely," and a dash of pride was infused into the elder'a tones ; for, despite his prejudices against "tbe world's people," he could not but feel a little flattered that his child's beauty should have attracted the admiration ofone whose cauae Reuben now stood plead¬ ing. "A good girl Martha has been, and perhaps sho aet more by the young fellow tbanlthought. Alanyrate,! wanttosecure her happiness, and though I had set my miud on having tbee for a son-in-law, Reuben, yet if thou art set upon giving the girl up because tUpa art sure she does not, nor can¬ not love thee, Pil have a talk with her, and also inqnire into the oharaoter of this city youth, who I suppose will be hanging round again. But walk in, lad; Martha is sitting by the window, and will be glad to see thee, I doabt not."
"Nay, not to-night, elder," replied the young man, from the garden gate, where he had lingered to talk this matter over, " Thee had better not defer thy conversation, but get a little color into Martha's pale oheeks, if thou canst," and glancing towards tho win¬ dow where the pale girl sat, he bade her father good evening and turned away.
And Martha, looking after the plain, quiet Quaker youth, little thought what aself-sacri- ficing act he had performed, in thus resigning his deep, strong love, to secure her happiness in another's; but when the old elder laid his hand on her head, and said, "Well, my girl, Ihave half a mind to seud thee out among the world's people—even Reuben wants to gel rid of thee, I believe, since he haa been begging in thy favor," and then he talked loug with Martha about hei oity lover, who, she confessed, had improvecl the afternoon, while the elder sat in ohuroh, to paj her a stolext visit—then the ^1 Imeir to whose wnift^iftflt^
affeotion she owed the prospect ofa happy fatnre with her own beloved.
And when—aa happened in the bright Jnne time, mnoh to the wonderment of all, and tha oeusura of many a broad-brim in the Quaker sooiety, aave Reuben Kane—the hand¬ some Phtiip Bentley bore away to hia splendid oity homa tha fairest Quaker flower, Martha, plaoing har hand in the Quaker yonth'e to bid hiin good-bye, oonld soaroe restrain the tears of gratitude whioh sprang into her bine eyes.
But the impatient young husband stood at tha door of the elegant traveling oarriage be¬ fore tha gate, and in ^another moment the girl was whirled away from the roof that might shelter her never again in girlhood, and the elder stood gazing into the highway where a cloud of white dust marked the path of tha bridal party.
Then he turned with a heavy sigh to watoh Reuben Kane walking alowly, thoughtfully homeward.
"The lad haa done a self-aaorificing deed this day, for I am sure he loves my girl still," mused the elder, "but Reuben Kane Is not tbe lad who would hesitate to do this in order to make Martha happy. I wish the girl had taken a liking to him. But there's no nae wiahing now—^I've given her to youug Bent¬ ly, and it'a pretty plain he loves her enough xo make her happy, thongh if anybody had oome to me and said, 'Friend Grant, thy daughter will marry one of the world's peo¬ ple,' I shoald have waxed wroth and said, 'Thou art in error, friend. It oannot be I'" and the old elder walked soberly into his lonely house.
Ten years have paased. Thera is aobange in the Quaker village. The old meeting house on the hill presents the same friendly appearance, it is trne ; but new elders sit in the places where the old ones sat. Elder Grant's broad brim, covering silvery hairs, no longer greets the eye iu the wonted seat on the wooden platform; his old farm house haa passed into other bands ; the roses and vines that Martha Grant used to tend are now train- ad by atranger hands; and for theae aeven lone years, since they laid her father away in tke old burial plaoe, her feet have never crossed the threshold of that oldeu home.
Reubeu Kane—an "elder" now, and pro¬ moted to highest officea, both temporal and spiritual, in the gift of the Society—looks older and wears a graver face than wheu we paw him last; for the gravity ia habitual now and seema deeply settled in his heart, too.
Since the day when Mrs. Philip Bentley came, in her costly monraing robes and lean¬ ing ou the arm of her handaome, proud- looking husband, to look, with sobs and tears, upon the calm, whita face of tha elder in his coffin, Reuben bas not spoken with Martha ; he has seeu her once since thongh, and tbat was In the city whera ahe dwelt and where the Quaker went on business connected with the Sooiety; but sha was in her sumptous carriage, with its footmen in livery, and he in his plain gravattire and broad-brimmed hat; aud the distance was wide between them.
Yet, as the rich carriage was delayed a mo ment at the atreet coraer, and he had leisure to note her ailken attire and the air of con scions pride and wealth whioh begirt her, Reuben Kane wondered if her heart did not go baok sometimea to the home ofher girlhood, and the Quaker youth who had loved, but resigned her tbere,—if she did uot, amid the gay pageantry of her aplendid life, hear the simple " thees " and '' thous " of her paternal dialect,—if, in the aplendid church, where she knelt on a velvet hassock and read from a jeweled prayer book, memorv did not bring her sometimes a dream of other yeara aud the simple exhortations of her plain Quaker oreed. In the old wooden meeting honse on the hill.
For Philip Bentley, though he loved his beautiful wife, was a proud man, aud grew proadar and sterner with his years ; and her he wedded for her beanty, must uever refer to her old fashioned faith or home.
Perhaps, had Martha Bentley been left to herself, in time, ahe might have beoome all, or much her world hnsband deaired her to be; but the very fact he laid his commands upon her, weighed heavily upou a nature unused to restraiut, and when she tumed from her father's grave to her fashionable life again, it was with a sad feeling of loneliness and a heavy heart.
Yet she encased herself in a crust of pride and went above her daily life. None, looking upou the magnificently attired womau of fashion, would hava dreamed her the modest little Qaaker maiden, who uaed to don her drab silk bonnet and went her way to the Quaker meeting house on the hill. It was in such a splendid attire, in her liveried carriage, that Reuben Kane saw her that moment in the city ; and he bore back to tbo quiet vil¬ lage, no longer a dream of Martha Grant, the elder's daughter, weeping over her dead father's coffin, bnt the gay, aplendid woman of fashiou and the wife of the rich Philip Bentley.
Time passed; and then there came to Reu¬ beu a tala of the rich mau's death. Sudden¬ ly smitten down iu his woi Idly pleasures and purauits, Philip Bently died and waa buried; and his widow was left mistresa of a vast estate.
Such was tbe story that came to him in his quiet home; but remembering that vision of haughty beauty sitting in her velvet-lined carriage in the city street, he only sighed, and said to himself:
" Well, Martha Bentley is a rich and world¬ ly woman now. God give her grace to keep her heart from vanity, and preserve her from the deceitfulneas of ricbes. She is a changed woman from tbe girl who used to trip lightly about the old place yonder, or ait in the old meeting-house on the hill. Ah well!" and with a long sigh, the grave-faced Quaker went about his daily taaks again.
There was a stir in Enfield—that is, as great a atir as the placid, equable-tempered Friends of tha Society there fonnd it poasiijle to indnlge in. Sober, by nile, Qaaker coun¬ tenances wore looks of surprise; "tbees" and "thous'^ fell from matrons' lips at a more glib pace thau customary; and a knot of broad-brimmed men might have been aeen at various honra of the long June day, col lected at " the Comer " in close conversation. The widow of Philip Bentley—the rich widow now, but onoe Httle Martha Grant, the elder'a daughter—had bought the old place and was coming back to settle again 1 The family in posseawon gave new title deeds, for whioh they received a handsome equivalent for money was but a drug in the hands of the new-comer; then wagon loada of oity furni¬ ture came down, and was arranged in the chambers and the old west room which had once been the Quaker's parlor.
There was one room, however, which bad remained untoaohed, save to be restored lo ita olden appearance, in the farmhouse ; and that was tha sitting-room, where we first in¬ troduced the reader. There were velvet car¬ pets and fleecy curtains, delicate vases and carved chairs elsewhere ; but this old sitting- room atill held the antique fashioned furni¬ ture, the little evergreen-wreathed mirror, tha tall, eight-day clock in the earner, and the set of bright brass fire-doga on the hearth, while the while fioor abone apotlessly clean in tha clear June aunlight falUng through the little paned windows.
It was a strange fancy, peopla might have thoaght, thia of tfae rich widow, aud yet, who ever has turned from gilded oity saloons with their sumptuous fumishlng, to tbe dear old &nn-honso ofhia birth, will feel what a posi¬ tive refreshment to the weary heart is auoh a vision of the vanished years, when life waa new, and the cankering oarea of tha world bad not worn away, much of the freshness and freedom, leaving instead muoh of the cnnut and weariuoBB of safety.
So felt MarthaBentley, Asherfootoroased
the old thraahoid, And ai) ahetbraathed again her native atr. It seemed that the old years had rolled baok and iinoe mora she stood a careless girl, underaeath the old mossy roof.
Who creates au ideal fature to flnd ft real¬ ized? Who places her faith in love, and goes through life without tasting the bitter waters of disappointment f So had it been with Martha. Her ardent imagination had oolored the picture too brightly. Sha had known soma happiy ;eara with Philip Bentley; but the mau who grew stem and haughty in his elegant oity manaion, and oheoked her girlish freedom and gayety, in order to make her the dignifled miatraas of his houae, and the prond leader of faahion, was not tha ideal lover, who had won her with sweet vows In her nalive Quaker villaga.
Whan he died, she shed bitter tears, alike for the dead love and thedead husband; then she fled from her splendid home to the olden scenes for rest and healing to her bruised heart.
Reuben Kane heard the story of her return with calmness. *' She is not the simple Qua¬ ker maiden I knew," ha said to himself, "and it can maka no differenoe now to me." Had ba known how little changed, at heart, was Martha Bentley, I think his judgment-might have been different.
On tha flrst Sunday of tha rioh widow's return, she was seen in her old aeat in the humble meeting-house on tha hill; and she weut not thither in her elegant carriage, but walked slowly along tbe oountry road, olad in plain mouming attire—panslog now to pluck a wild roaa blooming by the path, now to look around on the calm laUdaoape, bathed in the blessed Sabbath quiet, and to thank God that here, once more, the white dove of peace might enter her faeart.
And that twilight, while Reuben Kane wan¬ dered slowly in the old village burial ground, he once again atood face to face with Martha beaide the elder's grave.
"Friend Reaben, I am glad to see thee," ahe said, turning from pluokiug a whita rose from the huah the Quaker's hands had plan¬ ted there by tbe head stone.
" Aud Martba, I am glad to learn that thou hast oome to take up thy abode with us again,'* replied the Qaaker, kindly reaching forth his brown, toil-hardened hand to taka the lady's fair, delicate proffered ona.
There is little mora to be told. It is no high-wrought story of romantio wooing we have to record—only a quiet narration, how tbat deep, abiding love of years, whioh had slumbered, bat not died, in Reuben Kane's heart, and which ha had thoughtnever tohave felt agaiu, was still destined to be crowned with successful reward.
And yet, thia came to pass bd naturally and simply. That it seamed as If all those interve¬ ning years had been stricken from hia mem¬ ory, and again he wera a frank, plaasant-fea- tared yoath, aud Martha were not the city widow, but Elder Grant's rosy-cheeked daugh¬ ter going about her home duties there in the old farm-house.
Whenever Reuben called at Martha Bent- ley'a—as latterly he had fallen into tha habit of doing—he rarely seated himaelf in the splendidly furnished parIor,bnt paused instead in the old familiar silting room, whera he had been accuatomed to sit for hours and hold converse with the alder.
"Nay, let me eit here, friend Martha," he replied to her invitation to enter the parlor; " thia seems most like home to me, and I can almosl see the elder's whita head leaning against the back on the high arm chair yon¬ der. Thou keepest hia cane in its old place in yon corner, I see, aud his Bible aud spec¬ tacles on the table. These must seem like the old days to tbee, Martha."
Aud Martha's softly-spoken reply, while the quick tears sprang Into her brown eyes, seemed to satisfy Reuben that the old times migbt retarn again, also, for him; for some¬ how the grave-faced mau fouud ctinrage to repeat a story that had been spoken in that old sitting-room twelve yeara before, wheu both were younger, but ono waa lesa wise, than now.
And Martha's reply mnst have been very different than fell ou Reuben's ears those twelve years agone, for a tender light crept into the Quaker's blue eyes aud overspread his face, till ita gravity vanished in an ezpraa- aion of pleasare and happineas.
" Thou art quite aura thou careat more for me than a common friend, Martha?" he eaid looking eameslly into her face.
" Yea, Reuben, quite sure I And I hava thought sometimes, Reuben, that I might have been happier, perhaps, if I had not said *nay' to thy love once," she added. " Philip waa kind, and he loved me ; but, Reuben, I have learned that the sparrow or robin should not go to live in the king-bird's nest, but sit at home and sing in its owu humble fields.— lam not so young or light-headed as I waa then, Reuben, but I shall uot expeot too mnoh; I give you a true affection, and I think we may both see something of bappi¬ neaa yet."
" Yea, Martha, I believe thia also. Wa may both be very happy. Martha, I am glad thou canst love me even a littla. We will trnst in the future, and thauk God because he haa permitted our lives at last to meet in one !" and there was something like a tear on tha Quaker's sun-browned cheek, as he lifted her soft, white hand to his lips.
There waa great sarprisa in tha faahiona ble world Martha Bentley had left, but aatla¬ faction and approval amoug the Sooiety of Friends in her native village; and, best of all, a quiet, full bappineaa in her own heart, when, atanding up one fair Ootober Sabbath, in the old Qaaker meeting-house on the hill, she joined her hand and Ufa with Reuben Kane's, and thua rewarded long years of de¬ votion, and the early sacrifice of " The Qua¬ ker's Love."
The Shoe ^Pinches.
Little May waa sitting demurely by her mother's side; Btitch, stitch, want her little needle through her work, aud aometimea
deep into the little finger that waa uuder It. Wa find that our remarka upon reading aud
vBut ahe did not muoh mind that; tha doU'a tewing in Bchool during Sohool hours, haa
apron waa to be finiahed, and she wanted to rouaed the ire of some of our teaohers. We
leam to do it well. She had laid np tha say- expected this, and tharisfore are not diaappoin-
ing in her mind, " that a good seamstress ted, or taken by surprise. Tha fair of suoh
does not aew her flnger." teachers, that fA« pro/etiton willbe lowered
"Mother," said May, "teU mea story— by the publication of such trntha may be al-
lell me what you did when you were a littlo layed by tha taot that it la not In the pubUcation
girl-" but the practice of suoh thoughtless if not to
I hava alwaya found that suoh narratives, say illegal and dishonest praotices in Sohool.
tme, and almost real tb tham, are more inter-, If snch teaohers are really concerned for the
©he Jamfll pwk. _ #i>ititi0|ia)[.
DELICATE HAGHINE&T.
I. HEWTpir PKniCE, Editor, To whom all comniuuicuiions intended for this de¬ partment litay be addressed.
ter than the lower parts of the building ? BeoauBa the air. of tha building asoends, and all the eold air which can enter thro the doors and windows keepa to the floor till it haa become beatad.'
Why do plants often grow out of walls and towers?"Either because tho wind blew tho aeed tfaere with tha dust; or elae because some bird, flying oyer, dropped tha seed there, which It bad formerly oaton.
esting to ohildren thau any others
"Tas," said her mother,'* I will tall you what I did when I was young; something vary fooliah. You'll like to hear tbat. Bnt firat wa must bave anotber lesson about that delicate machiuery."
" Oh, yea," said May, " I like stories about machinery." They were sitting by a wood fire whioh did
cAaractrr and d^^nt/y of the profeasion,perhapa they will be willing to have their namea given that the ignorance of anch doings may fall upon the proper persons and the profession ba fread from the raaponsibllity?
As we hava said before weare not done with this matter. Theae and other practices ara to be scanned; and it is a true axiom
what is every body's busineaa ia nobody's
not bum vary brightly, and her mother sent business," aud aUhough these practices, are her for tba hallows; so May rau into tha otfaer something in whioh nearly everybody is con- room and brought the bellows, puffing away | ceraed, yat who will attend to it. Parents
with all her might. Tben her mother told her she might blow the fire, If ahe would hold thom down carefully, and not blow tbe ashea about; ao May held them very firmly by tha lower handle, while she moved the upper handle up and down, and aent auch a blast out of the pipe aa made the fire buru up bright and clear.
Ttieu ahe amused heraelf blowiug bita of paper about and pretending they wera birds flying away from bar, and theu found a feath¬ er from the eof a piUowB,and made that flyuu in the air and toss about merrily.
Then her mother took the bellows from her band, and, drawing a bit of tape from her work baaket,tied the handles together ao that they wonld hardly move at all. " Now blow the flre," aaid ahe. And May took the han¬ dles and moved them a very .little, and a poor, weak little puff of ail- came out, and the feather, instead of waving, just moved down a little, and then lay still. So the child soon grew weary of that fun, and said, " Now, mamma, tell me about the machine."
Then her mother called May to her, and, putting her hands on the littla girl's sides, aaid, "Now breathe." So little May drew tremendoas long breatha, and puffed out her cheeka, and mada a great ado about nothing. "Now," said her mother, "look down and aee how my hands move in and out;" and ahe looked down and saw the hands rise and fall at aaoh breath. " Just like the bellowsl" shouted the child, beginning now to see what har mother meaut.
"Yes,just like the bellows. Yon draw the air In audont,audyour mouth is the pipe, and the place inside where the bellows work is called the lungs; tho air comes iu aud keapa the rest ofthe machinery iu motion, and so keeps ua alive and well. Much of thia you cannot underatand until you are older and wiser: only thia, when I am tied down the bellows cannot work. It is easy to do this, becanse the whole is made soft, on pur¬ pose to move easily ; yet people do not seam to understand it, so you will see ladies with the bellows so tied down with corsets and tight dresaes, that they cannot open more than half way, and the riba that cover them, inatead of moving, are beld quite still.
"And I have aeon Uttle girls wiah their dresses so tight, that thare was no room to breathe, much less to grow. And I have heard little girls, when they wiahed to look trim and amall, cry out, ¦ Oh, that isn't tight,' whenji aaid that the bellows (I mean the lungs) conld not open mora than half way." Littla Mary looked up, for she remembered that very Uttle girl.
" Yon wili have-to beliave this, mj child, without understanding it all now. One thing you can understand ; all this hurts the deli¬ cate machinery whioh God has made, and which cannot work if it is tied down, or crow¬ ded out of place.
" And another thing : that Qod made ns juat right, and if we try to alter or ohange theshapeofhis work, we shall ouly do harm." Little May sighed when she thoaght of one of her visitors one day, having a very small, slender waist, like Miss Hourglass, whom she had very much admired, without remember ing how very pale Misa Hourglass looked, and how often she complained of headache.
So her little head was busy thinking over all this, whUe her hands lay in her lap, and the shining needle was stiU at last. I know not what visions were before her, when she was aroused by hearing her mother say: "Now run, my ohild, carry thia pattern I promised to Miss Brown, and you may atop and play with Clara for half an hour, and be snre and make that little bellows of yours blow mer¬ rily."
And the last I saw of little May, she was .skipping round tha corner, doing her beat to kaap that deliostes-machinery Of hers in good working order.
ipay comment, and expreaa their diasatisfao- tion to one another. Directora may sea it, and aay it onght not to ba so; yet do not like the unpleasant task of informing the teacher ofit. Who then ia todo thia disagreeable duty ? Who will say tbat it does not fall within the province ofour department, to al¬ lude to the evil ? to call tha attention of our teachera to it, that thoao who have inadver¬ tantly fallen Into this pernicious practice may think of It, and the eameat teacher who ia fnll of good intantiouB may amend in thia par¬ ticular. Those who do uot wlah to diacontin- ue this contraband buainess, and aro unwil¬ ling their deeds should ba brougbt to light, of coursa will manifest their dignity, aud an¬ athematize any effort at correcting this evil.
We shall not enter into personalities, nn¬ lesa the leat good of common Schoola ahould most unequivocally demand it. Neither will waknon ingly allow others to do so, in thia department, while we have the charge of it.
But we do aver that wa hava a perfeot right as condaotorof an Educational oolamn, to allude, upon general principles, to those prac¬ tices which affect for good or for evil, our School eyatem. If we shonld meet with aome teacher who by a certain course has produoed remarkable and beneficial effecta in his School, either in manner of govemment, or succesa iu teaching one or more branchea of study, all will agree that it is not only our right and priviledge but our duty to "herald" it. So we hold that it is equally tme of the opposite. It is not the exposition that doea the good or the injury, but tha practice of those thinga whioh are brought to Ught.
" Belie upon tmth wherever found,—
Whether npon Christian or on heathen gronnd,— Among onr friends or among onr foes, *
The plants divine where'er It grows."
It haa beeu held by some , tbat teachers have a lazy, easy lifa to lead I that they hava nothing to do! If this saying has not origi¬ nated in the practice of some studying, read¬ ing and aewing in scbool at something for themaelves; it has at least been fostered by thia practice.
Any teacher that is true to his duly will always find enongh to keep him busy in the school room. Aud the mora earnest ha is in tha performance of his duty tbe more labor ba will perform, tha more busily he will be aud the more he will fiud to do. It is one of the moat arduous ofall the professions. Aud the most difficult to render satisfaction. But he, who looks to his duty lo God aud to the immortal minds under his care, will find his duty plain, and aa ho performs it so will be hia reward. For verily every true teacher will have his reward.
Mechanical and HorUcultural Fair.
THE first annual Fair of the "HIS- TORICAL, AGHICULTDBAL and MECHANICS' IMSTITDTE of LANCASTER" will be held at FDLTON HALL, commencing WHITMONDAT, June IStb, Igno. and eontinne tbree days.
Books are nowopen at tbe rooms or the Inntitnte. 8d storj of Ctty HaU, In charge of Mr. Jacob StsafTar, t<> reeelre entries ofartlolea Intended for exhibition hi any ofthe deoartments.
Exblbltora will have their articlen enterpd » od p!ar«d In charge of tbe Committee on "Room and Spore" at FDLTON HALT., on or before Satorday, Juu« Tdh. ex¬ cept articles I o the Horticoltnral d^parrnifnt. wtiich will bs recelred nntil U o'clocV, Monday, Jou>< 13th
Citlxens of Lancaster wlahine to i-xhlbit Hriicln" in any ofthe departments are requeued to give eitrly no¬ tice of tbe npoce tbey will reqoire, to poublc the com¬ mittee to know bow mocb space can be spared >o appli¬ cants from Fhiladelpbia aod otber place"
Tbe entrance fee Is one •lollar, whicb entitle:'' an ex¬ hibitor to a free admission lo the entire Exbibillon.
ExblbitorswUl be psrmUtei lo sell any of tbeir articles on exhibition on the lapt day oftbe Pair, to be remoTod next day.
Steam-power will be snpplied for tny machinery tbat may require it.
Articlea for exbibltlon are Bolielted in all tbe depart¬ ments from citluns of the city and conoty of Lancaster.
The conteota of the bnilding will be Insured against flrefor the heneflt of tbe ExMbitors.
Carefnl police and watchmen will be on doty dnring the time the artlclea are in charge of the Committee.
For List of Premlnms. see baodblllH.
MECHANICAL DEPARTMENT. Jobn Wibb.Chairman, D.Fellbkbaum, Joan A. Shbapp, Daka Gbaeam,
Dr. E. Ki5Zbr. noBTICDLTDRAL DEPARTMENT. G. H Lefbtbb. Chairman, Lothbr Ricbahd^, Db. H. E. Uohlbmbbrq. Jauks Black, MARia HooPBS DEPARTMENT OF FIXE ARTS. J. W. Jackso.v. Chairman, Simos STRVEwa, now. A.L. Hayes, H. L. Zahm,
Jamrb K. Albxandkb. ROOM AND SPACE. JoRK A. Sheaf?.Chairman, James K. Alrsandeb.
may 2.5 _ t |
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