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• Thr INQUIRER i$ published every FRIDAY morn ing at the following rates : O.IX 'YEAR, (in advance,) $2.00 " " (if not paid within sixmos.)... $2.68 " " (if not paid within the year,)... $3.00 All papers outside of the county discontinued without notice, at the expiration of the time for which the subscription has been paid. Single copies of the paper furnished, in wrappers, at five cents each. Communications on subjects of local or general Interest are respectfully solicited. To ensure at tention favors of this kind must invariably be accompanied by the name of the author, not for publication, but as a guaranty against imposition. All letters pertaining to business of the office hould be addressed to V II RBORROW JFC LUTSS, BEDFORD, PA. Xewsra ßSN LAWS.— We would call the special attention of Post Masters and subscribers to the [VQCIRRB to the following synopsis of the News paper laws : 1. A Postmaster is required to give notice fey fetter, (returning a paper does not answer the law } when a subscriber does not take his paper out of the office, and state the reasons tor its not being taken: and a neglect to do so makes the Postmas ter reptoutiblt to the publishers for the payment. 2. Any person who takes a paper from the Post office, whether directed to his name or another, or whether he has subscribed or not is responsible for the pay. 3. If a person orders his paper discontinued, he must pay all arrearages, or the publisher may continue to send it until payment is made, and collect the whole amount, i chcther it fee taken from the office or not. There can be no legal discontin ucncc until the payment is made. 4. If the subscriber orders his paper to be stopped at a certain time, and the publisher con tinues to sond, the subscriber is bound to pay for it, if he take it out of the Pott Ojfice. The law proceeds upon the ground that a man must pay Cor what.be uses. 5. The courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers and periodicals from the Post office, or removing and having them uncalled for, is prima facia evidence of intentional fraud. Professional & jßushusiS (Sards. ATTORNEYS AT LAW. j nuN T. KEAGY, ATTOKNEY-AT-LAW. Office opposite Reed A Seholl's Bank. Counsel given in Kngiisfc and German. [apl26] jrr IMMELL AND LINGENFELTER, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Have formed a partnership in the practice of the Law, in new brick building near the Lutheran Church. [April 1, 1864-tf Tyj. A. POINTS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Respectfully tenders bis professional services jo the public. Office with J. W. Lingcnfelter, Esq., on Public Square near Lutheran Church. promptly made. [Dec. y,'fit-tf. J J AYES IRVINE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi ness intrusted to his care. Office with G. 11. Spang, Esq., on Juliana street, three doors south of the Mengel House. May 24:1 y I~JISPY M. ALSIP, !I ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFOP.D, PA., Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin a counties. Military claims. Pensions, back pay, Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with Mann A Spang, on Juliana street, 2 doors south of the Mengel House. apl 1, 1884.—tf. B. F. MEYERS 1. W. DICKEBSOS MEYERS A DICKERBON, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PEIX'A., Office nearly opposite the Mengel House, will practice in the several Courts of Bedford county. Pensions, bounties and hack pay obtained and the purchase of Real Estate attended to. [may 11,'66-ly P B. STUCKEY, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, and REAL ESTATE AGENT, Office on Main Street, between Fourth and Fifth, Opposite the Court House, KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI. Will practice in the adjoining Counties of Mis souri and Kansas. July 12:tf G. L. RUSSELL. J. H. LOHGESKI KER RUSSELL A LONGENECKER, ATTORNEYS A COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Bedford, Pa., Will attend promptly and faithfully to all busi ness entrusted to their care. Special attention given to collections and the prosecution of claims for Back Pay, Bounty, Pensions, Ac. J4S-Office on Juliana street, south of the Court House. Aprils:lyr. J* M'n. *• P- KERR SHARPE A KERR. A TTORSE YS-A T-LA W. Will practice in the Courts of Bedford and ad joining counties. All bnsiness entrusted to their care will receive careful and prompt attention. Pensions, Bounty, Back Pay, Ac., speedily col lected from the Government. Office on Juliana street, opposite the banking house of Reed A Scbcll, Bedford, Pa. mar2:tf 1. R. nURBORROW JOHN LUTI. DURBORROW A LUTZ, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BEBFORD, PA., Will attend promptly to all business intrusted to their care. Collections made on the shortest no tice. They are, also, regularly licensed Claim Agents and will give special attention to the prosecution of claims against the Government for Pensions, Back Pay, Bounty, Bounty Lands. Ac. Office on Juliana street, one door South of the Inquirer office, and nearly opposite the ' Mengel House" April 28, 1865:t PHYSICIANS. UfM. W. JAMISON, M. D., BLOODY RUN, PA., Respectfully tenders his professional services to the people of that place and vicinity. [decß:lyr QR. B. F. IIARRY, Respectfully tenders his professional ser vices to the citizens of Bedford and vicinity. Office and residence on Pitt Street, in the building formerly occupied by Dr. J. H. Hofius. [Ap'l 1,64. DK. S. G. STATLER, near Schellsburg, and Dr. J. J. CLARKE, formerly of Cumberland county, having associated themselves in the prac tice of Medicine, respectfully offer their profes sional services to the citizens of Schellsburg and vicinity. Dr. Clarke's office and residence same as formerly occupied by J. White, Esq.. dee'd. S. G. STATLER, Schellsburg, Aprill2:ly. J. J. CLARKE. MISCELLANEOUS. E. SHANNON, BANKER, " BEDFORD, PA. BANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT. Collections made for the East. West, North and South, and the general business of Exchange transacted. Notes and Accounts Collected and Remittances promptlymade. REAL ESTATE bought and sold. feb22 DANIEL BORDER, PITT STREET, TWO DOORS WEST OF THE BED FORD HOTEL, BEBFORD, PA. WATCHMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL. RY. SPECTACLES. AC. He keeps on hand a stock of fine Gold and Sil ver Watches, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Refin ed Glasses, also Scotch Pebble Glasses. Gold v ' atch Chains. Breast Pins, Finger Rings, best quality of Gold Pens. lie will supply to order any thing in his line not on hand. [|jr.2B,'6s. $ I'. HARBAUGH & SDN, Travelling Dealers in notions. In the county once every two months. "ELL GOODS AT <JITY PRICES. Agents for the Chauibersburg Woolen Manufac turing Company. APL |. Jy I ) W. CROUSK o„" i> .. WHOLESALE TOBACCONIST, r. ® "treet two doors west of B. F. Harry's , r ?> Bedford, Pa., is now prepared -o sell by wholesale all kinds of CIGARS. All •Tiers promptly filled. Persons desiring anything in his Une will do well to give him a call. Bedford Oct 20. '65., DURHORROW & Lil'TZ, Proprietors. For the Bedford INQUIRER. DOUBTING. Oh is there * life whenj*e "go hence; " A life of weal or woe? Alas ! MO one has e'er returned froiu thence To tell us this is so! Are we frail mortals plodding on To some uncertain fate, With nothing turc to base upon About that "future state?" They talk of "mansions in the skies," And streets of "shining gold," W here tears are wiped from "weeping eves" And rapturous joys unfold. They tell of "never ending bliss;" Of joys that "never Lie," In some "bright world" afar from this Where ne'er is heard a sigh. They speak of bands in "spotless white" Who everlasting sing Rapt antbemi in "perpetual light" Before their God and King. They say that aU is fragrance there; That flowers never fade; That faees a'l do suhshine wear Without a tinge of shade. That we shall meet the "loved and lost," Embrace them in that clime; No more by angry surges tossed As in this "gulf of time," So more parting; HO more pain; I'nited there forever — So grief ; no caie; no tinfnl ttain; So deathly hand to never. Can this be so?—O, tell me, SOUL! I now appeal to thee; Disperse the clouds that murky ro" And make it clear to mo. Is there for "weary souls" a rest, An Immortality, Where thou shale he " tupremrly hlrtt " Through all ETERNITY? Oh ! tell me shall we live fore'er — 0, SOUL ! shirk not the test; Forestall this bitter, briny tear And hearken this request! Say ! have they told me truly, SOUL, About that golden land, Where chants in endlett chorus ro" And saints immortal stand? Oh .' mortal I trill auntcer plain— "There it akome on high li'feere Spring keeps up a ceatelctt reign, WAere / thall never die. Atk of NATURE—REASON—REVELATION, The tame to yon they'll teach, And tell you that through CHRIST'S SALVATION, Seeking souls that Home will reach. w. J. M WHY ARE THE IRISH DEMOCRATS! It would require a history of the rise and progress and decay of American political par ties for the last seventy years to answer the above query satisfactorily. * # *_ * • * * * When Jefferson and Jackon were the re presentatives of Democracy, in was a party worthy ofthis Republic. But when "Brick" Pomeroy essays the role of Jefferson, and Johnson, with his treacherous stubbornness, imagines himself acting the role of Jackson, Democracy is but a "comedy" put on the boards to please the prejudices of the igno rant and the false. It is but draggiug the mantle of the olden gods through the pur lieus of crime, and drinking bob-nob with pothouse Doliticians, for the purpose of overthrowing intelligent justice and well regulated liberty, and setting up crime and license and saturnalia in their stead. When the "Little Giant" of the West breathed his last, counselling his children to be true to the nation, then Democracy should have died. What was left was but the body, filled with the worst passions, the soul hav ing departed. Then the mantle of the great leaders of Democracy should have folded the giant of the West in his grave, instead of being torn into shreds by hungry hucksters to be flaunted over the planks of the old platform, broken up by the conflicting ele ments into a dozen rafts, one raft steering 30Uth with ticoDoo for its bannur; anotbor steering North with riot and murder for its ensign; another, tho smallest, but the one that had the live oak timbers and the hickory flagstaff of the old craft, from which flew the "War Democracy." It was for its early virtues the Irish peo ple joined it, and themselves being change less, they have failed to understand how the principles of one generation become effete and will not suit for the next, especially in a progressive age like this, and among a pro gressive people like the Americans. Un fortunately for Ireland and her people, we are always content with things as our fath ers have left them. We associate all old things with sacredness, and look upon men who are not content with a Constitution framed in another age, and by a generation surrounded by old institutions as fanatics. Iconoclasts who are going around smashing the brazen images of the past we look upon with awe and hatred, even though those idols are pressing down the world, and we ourselves are groaning beneath their weight while protecting their sacred uglinesses. ********* "As it was, so it is," with our people. They cannot see that the Republican party is the first-born of the old Democracy, in heriting all its parent virtues, and laying in a plentiful stock of its own to suit the ad vanced days in which we live. Convince the Irish of this fact, and you make them Republicans. Until so convinced, they will be the honest "old guard" of Democracy, around which treason and corruption will rally, to use our honest countrymen to de stroy the Republic and ride into power. We ask the members of the Republican party, and the editors of Republican jour nals, whether they have taken the proper means to reach the Irish people? : * * * * * * * * The principles of the "Republican party" are for no sect, but for all men. It becomes the duty of every member of the party to invite all men to share in its councils and avail themselves of its privileges. On the other hand, the man who stands upon its universal platform, and hoists his banner of proscription, should be hurled from it un ceremoniously. By what right will some narrow bigot stand under the protecting a?gis of Republicanism, and cry, VVe want no Irish here? We want no Catholics here? etc. * * * * •* • The majority of Irish people of America arc Democrats beeause they believe that party is right. They are led and used by knaves, but the people arc honest. Con vince them of their error. Act up to the professions of Republicanism. Show them that you believe in the rights of man. That .3 floral aufc (general flrtospaprr, DrbotrD to i>olitirs, (Gtmration, Hitrrature anh fttorals. you are of no creed. That the Catholic and ■ the Protestant and all others are equally | dear to you as men. Kindness and sym pathy will reach the hearts of our people. But revile and abuse them, and your ene mies catch up your words, and whisper them into every Irish ear in the land. Let men not flatter themselves that Catholicity in its true interpretation is op posed to Republicanism and universal suff rage. The bishops and priests to a large extent may be opposed to those things. This is not owing to the Church so much as to the fact that they are Irish and share the prejudices and feelings common to our race. At the altar of God tho Church makes men equal. The most violent Copperhead in the land, if a Catholic, mutt —for the Church says so—kneel liesidc the blackest and lowliest African, and receive the "body and blood of Christ," from the same hands. What is this but setting the seal of equality before God on all men? It makes us sigh to behold the littleness of some Republicans who cramp the spirit of their great party to suit their own small com prehensiveness. The very unchangeableness of the Irish should induce the Republican party to put forth ail their efforts to gain them over. They are not of those who have to be coaxed to stand by principle. You cannot drive them from you by abuse if they are satisfied that they are right on principle. The manner in which they are insulted and abused by the Democracy fully proves the correctness of this assertion. In a word, the Irish are true to liberty, as they understand it. Convince them that they arc tor sectional in its application, and they will enlarge their action. As has often been said, the Irish are all right at heart, but their heads are wrong. Their hearts have been cultivated by their kindly natures, but their heads have been "cut oft ' by the English.— lr'th Republic. gUarrHaums. KATE'S PROPOSAL. "You don't dare do it, Kate," laughed Mag Reynolds. "I'll wager my pearl ring that you'll "back out" of it at the last moment," cried Sue Dalcvin, slippingthe ring offher finger and holding it up to view. "Done!" exclaimed Kate; "and here is my gold locket in the balance against your ring." She unfastened the locket from the cord around her throat as she spoke, and the ring and locket were laid in the hands of Mag Reynolds, to be held until claimed by the winner. "Ob, of course, you will say you will but then we know you won't," they said in chorus. Kate Adams thrust her hand in her apron pockets, pursed up her mouth in defiance, and replied : ' I dare, and what is more, I will ask him between this and to morrow afternoon." live young ladies were standing in a vine clad arbor in the garden at Judge Adams' residence. Four of them had dared the judge's daughter, Kate, the wildest romp that ever wore gaiters and tore dresses, to take advantage of the privileges leap year affords, and propose to Dick Walton, a rather stately, and, as the girls declared, "altogether unapproachable" young geutle man, then visiting, for a few weeks, her father. As the girls matured their plans, they failed to see a pair of grey eyes look ing down upon them, nor did they hear the suppressed laugh which proceeded from be hind the tangled shrubbery. "But how are wc to know?" queried the girls. ' Meet me here at half-past five to-morrow afternoon," replied Kate; and then, with merry leave taking, they separated for their several homes. Kate walked slowly towards the house, resolving in her mind the best mode of attack. Should she beard the lion in his den, or should she come upon him unawares, In some corner t Bbc concluded that the latter was the best plan. As her form disappeared in the distance, the vines parted, and a young gentleman stepped through the aperture into the arbor. His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Ah ! bonuic Kate, you'll get caught in a trap of your own setting ;" and he laugh ed outright. Among four children, Kate was the ouly girl, and was spoiled in consequence. Not one of her three brothers could hunt, ride, fish, or whistle better than she. And yet, when she was in the parlor, there was not one of her young lady friends one whit pret tier or more accomplished than mistress Kate. She danced beautifully, had a mag nificent voice, and played and sung superb ly ; but at the bottom of it all she was a natural born coquette, and flirted wickedly with her male friends. Dick VV'altou, after a three weeks residence under her father's roof, had become desperately smitten, but, knowing her flirting propensities declined adding himself to her already long string of disconsolate adorers. Once in particular, when her father desired her to look uncom monly well, because of a certain elderly per sonage, whom he wished to call "son in law," she astonished them both by appearing be fore them with her arms akimbo, and a ci gar between her lips. The old beau was so disenchanted that he then and thercdcclined the honor of an alliance with Miss Kate, which so curaged the father that he ordered the suiter from the house. That same day the young lady began her operations on Diek, but he eluded her. It she found him in the parlor, he made some pretext to leave the room. If, by chance, she met him in the garden, he immediately fled to the house. To go to his room she did not dare. So wearied out, she went to bed, determining to try again the next morning. She did not, for a moment, suppose he would even answer her. She imagined he would turn up his aristocratic proboscis and leave the house in disgust. Kate did not like the latter idea very well for, way down in the bottom mest part of her heart, lay Dick's image. The next morning she arose and dressed herself with scrupulous care. She had some misgivings about it though. It did not seem half as easy then as it did the day be fore. She let pass many opportunities, and it was one o'clock on the fatal afternoon be fore she mustered up corragc to "do" the rather delicate business. Her father and mother away, her brothers were taking a comfortable siesta, or gone hunt ing; the "lion" was lolling on the parlor sofa. Kate crept softly to the parlor door. There the enemy was, certainly not at all HEDFORI), PA., FRIDAY, formidable looking. Perhaps she thought , so. for she walked calmly in. The proprie tor of the sofa looked up anil bowed politely, but there was a roguish twinkle in his eyes, and he seemed to be trying to conceal a > smile, for the comers of his mouth tw itched j and he made a motion to knock off an tuia gina / fly, which he thought had settled on his nose. But Kate did nut observe this, for she was industriously studyng the pat tern of the carjiet. "Mr. Watson —" said Kate. "That's me," .-slid the occupant of the sofa, looking innocently unconscious. Kate ignored his remark, and continued in an almost inaudible tone, but which he heard nevertheless. "Mr. Walton, lam come—"' Poor Kate stopped, unable to proceed. "I am aware that you have. Proceed to business, my dear." and the creature actu : lly tubbed his hands briskly together. She looked up and faced him boldly, her cheeks blazing with shame and rage. "1 am come, sir, to take advantage of leap year: that is, being impressed with a sense of your superiority over my other nude friends, and also being smitten with your fine manners and persona] beauty, I have conic to offer you my haud, and hojie you wi'l think enough of the offer to accept, she stammered. "You may tusk my pardon,' said Dick, drawing his handkerchief before his eyes, and speaking in a subdued whisper. Kate was thunderstiuck. She had ex pected an indignant refusal. She proposed to him for the fun of the thing, and because the girls had dared her to do it. "Barkis appears to be w : ' : n',' said she, desperately. "Barkis A-willin'," was the reply "tnii the depths of the handkerchief. "She may tie, but I'm not,' she cried fiercely. "Yes, you are. Oh, dear, you ve broke my virgin heart," cried Dick, in a tragic tone. "Virgin fiddlesticks, quoth she, eyeing him suspiciously, and edging toward the parlor door. "You've offered me your hand, and I'd take' em both if they weren't in your apron pockets," he howled. A bright idea struck Kate. She would make love to him furiously, and he would retreat and leave the field. "But 1 don't want you to marry me." wept Dick, his handkerchief still before bis eyes. "Why?" queried she. "You re a-a-a.a romp," he gasped. "I am a lady," she replied, indignantly. "You whistle, and jump, and fish, and ac tually, yes, actually shoot" Dick appeared to be having a hysteric fit. "I'll shoot you!" and she made a dash for the door. But Dick was ahead of her, and, as her hand grasped the door knob he seized her wrists. "You have already shot my heart fu'l of Cupid's arrows," ho exclaimed, giving her a look that caused her cheek to burn, and made her eyes drop in confu.-ion, "lie led her unwillingly to the sofa, and sat down beside her. "Kate, I love you with my whole heart, and I ask you, in all sincerity to become Mrs Dick Walton." His yoice was low and eager. "But my urimaidcnly conduct. I—l —" her lips quivered, and two great tears rolled down her face. "If you were like other girls I would not care one whit for you; but. Kate, I love you because you dare do things others dare not do," he said, persuasively. "You you-you said I was a romp;" she was crying in earnest. "Well, didn't you tell Sue Dcvclin that I was a 'bear?" "How do you know ?" She stopped crying, and gazed at him in utter amaze ment. "I listened, Miss," was the courageous reply. "Indeed, and you heard —" "The whole plot. I was behind the arbor, and, hearing my name mentioned, could not resist the desire of hearing your opinions about my illustrious self," Dick smiled, unconcernedly; then he continued. "You may tell your companions that you ar engaged to that "horrid creature," and expect to become Mrs. Dick Walton in one month from to day." Kate blushed and attempted to release her hands, for .Mr. and Mrs. Adams were coming, and that instant entered the parlor. Dick got up and an nounced Kate's surrender. Mr. und Mrs. Adams congratulated them, kissed their daughter, shook hands, and, upon the whole seemed perfectly overjoyed at the way things had turned out. Next day Kate met her companions and engaged them for bridesmaids, and a few weeks later everv one of her friends received her wedding cards. Kate's advice to her companions is : "My proposal ended well; go and do likewise." To wh'ch we say, Amen! ARNOLD'S TREASON. We extract from the address of Professor Coppee, delivered to the graduating class of West Point, a graphic veration of the trea son of Benedict Arnold, which, asone of the most impressive lessons of hist >ry, cannot be too frequently reviewed by American youth, or hearkened to by men of mature years: And now, gentlemen, let me spend the very short time allotted to me in elabo rating one thought of common interest to cadets. I find the text in the words of our immortal Washington, and a few statistics of the Revolutionary history, doubtless well known to you all, must be given to elucidate it. On the 22d of September, 1780, General Arnold returned from his iuterview with Major Andrew, at and near the house of Joshua II ett Smith, to Beverly, and he made all preliminary arrangement for the surrender of this post, but without, as far as is known, taking any one into his confidence. On the 2-ith, the British were to confte up the river and take West Point. This was well timed, as Washington wasnot expected to return from Hartford unt'l the 26tb. Most unexpectedly, however, he changed his plans and returned through Duchess county to Fishkill on the 2-kh. He stayed that night with the French Ambassador, who was there, and in happy ignorance of the snaky treason, whose final coil was being wound; he took saddle before dawn of the 25th, in order to reach General Arnold's headquarters in time to breakfast with the General and Mrs. Jftnold, and then to iu speet the works at West Point. Some soldiershad gone before with Wash ington's baggage, to announce his purpose to Arnold; but as he approached Arnold's house, he turned off toward the river. Lafayette, who was riding with him, ex claimed: "General, that is the wrong way; you know Mrs. Arnold is waitine for us." IV ashington replied, in a pleasant way, "All the youog men are in love with Mrs. Ar nold, and added, "Go and take your breakfast, and tell Mrs. Arnold not to wait for me; that I will be there by and by." So the staff went to Arnold's house and took breakfast, the countenance of the host, cld blooded as .he mart, being unable to conceal his secret trouble and misgivings. Ibe British had not come, and there were no tidings. Washington had arrived two davs sooner than he was expected. While at breakfast, Lieutenant Allen, of Arnold's commaud, came in with a letter. It was from below. He tore it open, expecting to read news of the enemy's movement up the river. Horror and astonishment; the tidings were from Major Jameson, that Major Andre was in his hands, a prisoner and a spy. Leaping from his seat, he announced to his guests that an urgent message called for his presence at West Point; and he left hat as a message, should General Washing ton arrived before his return, he would re ;urn, he said, as soon as possible. He then vent to his wife's room, artd ecnt foi her. .n a few words he announced the necessity f going at once to the British lines. Leav ing her in a swoon on the floor, he rushed cut, mounted one of the horses of Washing ton's cavalcade in waiting at the door, gal loped down a steep pathway to Beveriy tbek, got into his six-oared barge, aud ordered the hoarsmen to pull with a will for Teller's Point, prontissing them au cxtra-ra. tion of ruui and a reward in money, and telling them that he was hurrying that he . might transact bis business there and re ; turn without delay to meet General Wash | Ington. j As they passed Teller's Point, and neared I l he ultureman of-war, he spread his white handkerchief as a flag of truce, and reached the British ship,a traitor, in safety—a villain under protection which could not fail. It was a race for life, and he won it. Just af ! ter Arnold's flight Washington arrived at Beverly. On being told that Arnold had ! gone to West Point, he took a hasty break fast, and hurried over to meet him there, j As the boat approached the landing, Wash ington was surprised to find that there was no salute, and no guard turned out to receive him. Indeed, the commanding officer, Colonel Lamb, of the artillery, was leisur \ !v strolling down the path as thebarge land od. Confusid when he saw the General i i Chief, he stammered out: "Ilad I any idea your Excellency was comning, I would have given your Excellency a proper recep tion." "Sir," exclaimed Washington, "is not General Arnold here?" "No, sir. He has not been here these two days, and I have not heard from him in that time." Astonished, and recurrihg to his old suspi cions, Washington inspected the works and returned about noon to Arnold's house. There Hamilton met him with the proofs of the treason, all the papers taken in Andre's boot, which had by this time arriv ed. The messenger had arrived just four hours after Arnold's escape. Looking around him he turned to Knox and Lafayet te and said in a solemn, almost heart-bro ken manner: "Whom can we trust now?" UKUNK. Drunk ! Drunk! merciful heavens, what a fearful fact! O, man ! did you ever pause and think how terrible that word sounds and what a world of unutterable anguish and misery it conjures up before the tniod ? Drunk ! some, go with me to that beautiful cottage home yonder. The happy wife is busy with her household cares, and the ,-weet little children are all glee and hap piness. The evening draws on apace, and mother and children begin to look out and watch for the approach of the noble husband and tender father; but, strange to say, he comes not. Night ascends herebor. throne, and spreads her dark mantle over the earth, and all nature sinks into the calm repose of slumber. The birds cease their songs, and ; the weary sons of toil for rest in "Tir'd nature's" sweet restorer, balmy sleep," and yet the husband comes not. Anxious thoughts crowd unbidden into the mind of the wife, and her heart trembles with fear, She despatches a messenger to find and bring home her husband. In a short time he returns home and hesitatingly informs ber that he is drunk. God only knows the fearful agony that rends her heart, and fills her eyes with tears. No tongue can tell, nor language describe it. Had he been brought home a mangled, corpse, killed by some un foreseen accident, she could have bowed in humble reverence and resignation to the mysterious will of Divine Providence: but the awful announcement—drunk —pierces her he art as with a dagger, and a fearful cry j of agony, wrung from her inmost soul, goes up to the Infinite Father for help. The night of anguish passes slowly away, and ever and anon the word drunk comes up as a | fearful spectre and fills the soul with agony. O, man ! when the tempter holds out the wine cup, and invites you to drink and be merry, pause and think of the dear wife and little ones at home. Think what woe ! and misery it will bring to them, and how the fearful word drunk will rend their hearts with anguish too deep for utterance, and cause them to hide their faces in shame. For the sake of the loved ones at home, j say to the tempter, "Get behind me Satan." A few days ago I met a noble looking young man on the street reeling under the power of rum. The light of intelligence had faded from his eyes, and there was only the idiotic stare of drunkenness. I thought of his mother and sisters at home, and bow the word drunk would startle them —how it would ring in the mother's ear as the death ; knell of her fondest hopes; how it would | make her heart bleed! Drunk! See him, j as he leans against a friendly house for sup port; he stands ready to fail into the open > jaws of death and hell, unconscious of his > approaching fate. Drunk ! If the angels in heaven are capable of weeping they cover their faces in sorrow and weep over such a scene. Oh, young man, before you put the fearful beverage of hell to your lips, pause and think of the tender mother who watch ed over your helpless innocence, and of the fond sisters who love you as only a sister can love. Think of the anguish the word drunk will bring to their fond hearts, and dash the intoxicating cup from you. Shun it as you would avoid hell. Friendly reader, come and look upon an other picture. It is midnight. A hasty pull at the door bell arouses the inmates and 1 brings them to the door. It is thrown open, and a company of men enter and lay the un- j conscious form of a man on the lounge. His eyes roll wildly, and every labored breath sends the foam from his mouth. The moth er s heart is chilled with fear as she recog nizes the form of a loved son. But oh, hor rors ! what anguish rends her soul, and how her heart sinks within her mind. DRUNK ! Ob, the agony of thai moment of sorrow! She would give a thousand worlds, if they were at her command, if she could blot out the fact, but this is impossible. Oh, youDg man, remember that it is a fearful thing thus to trauiplo under foot the claims that God and man have upon you. Drunk! Let that never be said of you again. BULLS AND BLUNDERS OF NEWS PAPERS. The Adverthrrt Gazette makes the fol lowing collection of this class of literary curiosities: A Wisconsin paper says • During a fierce thunder storm near Mount Desert, the lightning came down through the roof of a house and a bed, upon which lay a husband and wife, throwing the man out of bed, thence into the cellar and out through the drain, and then plowed up the ground to the barn-yard, where it killed a cow." A Connecticut editor gives an account of a man who "blew out his brains after bid ding his wife good-bye with a shot gun." The Salt Lake Vidctte has the following: "Correction—lnstead of 'people all very lousy,' in a letter from Crystal Park the other day, read, 'people are very busy.'" The strongest man has just been heard from. He was lecturing to a female assem bly at the West, and an editor thus de scribes the scene: "Three thousand ladies hanging on the lips of one man." The Independent , in speaking of a new steam brewery in the town, remarks: "We are glad to see important articles manufac tured at home, at greatly reduced prices." An account of the fire at Barnum's, which was telegraphed from New York, congratu lates the country on "the escape of the fe male giantess." We think a male giantess would be a still greater curiosity. A Western editor in one of his papers, says: "For the effects of intcmperance ) see our inside.'' The Springfield Republican tells of a horse which ran away in that city, "throw . ing the driver out and cutting a severe gash in one of his hind legs." The World says that "cx-Governor An ; drew was born in 1818, previous to which e vent he had two strokes of appoplexy, one in 1804 and the other in 1800." The classio London gpectator makes a cu rious slip when it speaks of Matilda Griggs, ; who "was stabbed by a lover to whom she had borne a child in thirteen places. A notice of a recent steamboat explosion in a Western papers ends as follows: "The I Captain swam ashore. So did the cham ber maid; she was insured for $15,000, and loaded with iron." An editor, referring to a patent metallic air-tight coffin, says: "No person having once tried one of these coffins will ever use I any other." A political paper in Minnesota, in advo I eating the election of its candidate, says that j its "standard bearer, Charles E. Flandrau, j has twice laid down his life to save Western Minnesota from being devastated by the In dians." Its opponents thinks a dead ' corpse (!) after all a suitable candidate for a dead party." From the Nevada Tresis* we clip an ac count of a meeting held in San Francisco by the poor citizens who were trying to obtain free grants of land from the State: "Judge Turner, of Nevada, in addressing the meet ing, had occasion to say that 'if the bold hearted, landless men of San Francisco would work together and exercise the right of pe tition and discussion, they would each of them, ere long, have a little home for his children.' Imagine Judge Turner's con sternation on reading in the Bulletin the next morning, that he said : 'lf the bald headed landlords of San Francisco would work together, they would each of them, ere long, heave a little more land for their children." A Syracuse printer, in setting up a book publisher's advertisement, construed one of Dickens' works thus: "'Barney," by Itudge —sl 50." Benjamin Franklin, once putting to press a form of the Common Prayer, the letter "e" in the following passage dropped out unperceived by him: "We shall be chang ed in the twinkling of an eye." When the book appeared, to the horror of the devout worshippers, the passage read : "We shall all be hanged in the twinkling of an eye." A religious paper noticed, by an odd typo graphical error, that "a new church has been founded at Elizabeth, N. J., under suspicious circumstances." The suspicious was a misprint for auspicious. A reporter for a London paper wrote the verdict of a coroner's jury : "Died from hemorrhage," and the public gained the information the next day that the deceased "died from her marriage." akistockatic pkide. Among all the varied forms and phases in which pride exhibits itself to the public, there is none more disgusting and ridiculous than that aristocratic or dandied form which it assumes in the persons of those who seem to consider it an indignity to be seen labor ing with their hands, or performing any of the drudgeries of life. They think it above the dignity of a gentleman, in which char acter they would like to be considered, to soil their delicate fingers with a 'mean em ployment,' as they would call such employ ment as most men engage in to earn, with honesty, their daily bread. These men of starch and perfume, would look upon it as an everlasting disgrace to be surprised by their consequential acquaintances in the act of rolling a wheelbarrow through the streets in the transaction of necessary business, as the immortal Franklin used to do through the streets of Philadelphia, or in carrying provisions from the market, or in tilling the land. This foolish pride is often a heavy tax, levied upon the purse of its possessor, for, often do we see such a person, in order to keep up appearances, expend his money, and subjecting himself almost to starvation, and to every domestic inconvenience, to prevent his pride being mortified, and to support his fancied dignity. Such dandied fops arc the mere insects of society, as per fectly useless as the guilded butterfly which hovers about the flowers in the sunshine of summer, but is swept away by the cold blasts of autumn. VOla. 41: NO. 26. MEN WITHOUT TRADED. Li a recent conversation with Doctor Git on, private Secretary of Gov. Geary, we learned a curious fact concerning crime and men without trades and professions. Dr. Gibon has been paying particular attention lately, to the application daily and almost hourly made for Executive clemency and pardon. Those not acquainted with the burdensome routine of Executive duty in this respect, cannot possibly form any idea of the embarrassment, the harrowing solici tude and the overwhelming responsibility of properly wielding the pardoning power. The curious part of Dr. Gibon's statement is, that in nineteen cases out of twenty, young convicts arc men without trades or professions, who have been left by their pa rents to reach maturity without having un dergone the discipline and the training ac quired while learning a trade or studying a profession When parents or friends ap plying for pardon for such offenders, have been asked why they were not taught trades the reply has been vouchsafed —" Be was too weak;" "Be KS too sensitive," or "Be thought it VMS beneath him." Too weakly, too sensitive, too proud to learn a trade, but not too proud to keep out of the penitentia ry ! Of course we do not pretend to assert that learning a trade or profession is the sure way to keep out of doing wrong. There are great rascals among mechanics and profes sional men. But the man who has a trade or profession, is always the most indepen dent, and lias fairer prospects at hand of permen n' success in life. And what is also true, in this connection, in a prqptieal way, is the lack of skilled labor in the United States. American boys for the last ten years have been loath to learn trades. Too many of them desire to wield yard sticks in stead of saws and planes. The consequence now is, that skilled labor is scarce, and that the best places in our work shops are filled by foreigners. By some kiud of teaching we must reform this evil. There must be more encouragement for boys to learn trades —and the mechanical voca tion must be dignified and elevated, by be ing recognized as worthy the study and the acquirement of the most intelligent and the most favored in every community. We met a lad a day or two since from a neighboring village, who was on his way to enter one of the large machine shops in Philadelphia to learn a trade. He had an education to fit him for any profession, and when he reaches his majority he will become the possessor of a competency; nevertheless, the native good sense of the boy, backed by the practical ad vice of an older brother, induced him to learn a trade, and we predict that that boy will become a man of responsibility and in fluence in any community blessed hereafter, with his citizenship. Doctor Gibon's observations and conclu sions on this subject are sound and practical. He thinks if more boys learn trades, future Governors of the Commonwealth will have less applications for pardons to dispose of.— State Guard. NEVER TOO OLD TO LFARN.— Socrates, at an extreme age, learned to j'Jay musical instruments. Cato, at eighty years of age thought prop er to learn the Greek language. Plutarch, when between seventy and eigh ty, commenced the study of Latin. Boecaueia was thirty-five years of age when he commenced his studies in light lit erature; yet he became one of the great mas ters of the Tuscan dialect—Dante and Pet rarch being the other two. Sir Henry Spelman neglected the sciences in his youth, but commenced the study of them when he was between fifty and sixty years of age. After this he became a most learned antiquarian and lawyer. Colbert, the famous French minister, at sixty years of age returned to his Latin and Law studies. Ludovico, at the great age of one hun dred and fifteen, wrote the memories of his own times. Ogilby, the translator of Homer and Vir gil, was unacquainted with Latin and Greek until he was past the age of fifty. Franklin did not fully commence his phil osophical pursuits until he had reached his fiftieth year. Aceroso, a great lawyer, being asked Why he began the study of law so late, answered, that if indeed he began it late, he could, therefore, master it the sooner. _ Dryden in his sixty-eighth year commen ced the translation of the Illiad, and his most pleasing productions were written in his old age. EASILY SIITED.— The other day a young gentlemen from the country stepped into Landis' Jewelry store in Bhippensburg, and informed the proprietor that his occupation was that of a carpenter, and he desired to get a bosom pin emblematical of that pro fession. The obliging jeweller looked over his stock, and finding nothing else, showed him a very fine masonic pin. The young man looked at it carefully. "Yes,"he said, "that is it. There is the compass and the square; I use both of them, but why didn't they put a saw in it? It's first rate as far as it goes. Ilellow! there's a G there, what does that stand for?" The jeweler didn't know. The man studied it carefhl'y f or a moment, and a bright thought struck him. His face flashed as if he had made a discovery. "I have it," he said; "it's all right; G stands for gimlet. That will do. I'll take it." There was a little touch of sadness in his voice as he pinned the emblem on his coat and went away muttering: "Square, compass and gimlet. Ido wish there was a saw, though." PITHOLE ANGELS,— The Tionesta Bee gets off the following: "In a neighboring village lives a family who recently emigrated from Pithole, and which contains among other members two little girls, Annie and Minnie, aged respectively four and eight years. One night, a short time since, as her mother put Annie to bed, she told her 'to be a good girl, go to sleep, and the an gels would come and watch her all through the night.' Little Annie's sleep was as sound as the nature of the case would ad mit, her tender flesh being a rare feast for the miniature snapping turtles that infested her bed. The next morning when her moth er came up to take her out of bed, she gave the following opinion of the angels: 'Mother I don't like them angels. I don t want them to watch me any more, they bite me so.' 'Oh, mother! mother!' exclaimed Min nie, 'I know what kind of angels them is; them is Pithole angels,' KATES OF ADVERTISING. Ail advertisement* for lew than 3 months 10 cent* per line for each insertion. Special rojee# one-half additional. All reaolntiomt oMocia tion, communication* of a limited or individ' 1 interest and notice* of marriage* and tie*.hi, ex ceeding fire lines, 10 et*. per line. All legal noti ces of every kind, and all Orphans' Court sod other Judicial sales, are required by law to be pub lished in both papers. Editorial Notices 15 C- ts per lice. AU Advertising due afterfirat insertion. A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers. 3 monts. 6 months. 1 year One square $ 4,40 i 8.00 s'o,oo Twe squares - 8.00 Si.oo 18.10 Three square* 3.00 12.00 20.00 One-fourth c01umn........ 11.00 20,00 35.00 Half column 18.00 25.00 *5.00 One c01umn.................. 30,00 45.00 80.00 PERFECT PRINTING. Some people of extremely sensitive per ceptions are made nervous by a typographi cal error in their newspaper. They regard the printer as a machine whose fingers should be made of steel and whose physical condi tion should be always perfect, and accord ingly they expect perfection, nothing less, as the result of his labors. A wrong letter makes them fidgetty—an "out" or a "doub let" throws them into convulsions of rage and disgust. Now wc beg leave to say to any of our readers who may possess such an extremity of sensitiveness, that perfection in typography is rarely, if ever attained, and in proof of the statement, submit the following which wc clip from a late foreign paper: It has been doubted whether an absolute ly perfect copy of a classical author has ever been printed. A wealthy amateur tried to mak a perfect copy of 'Os Luciados,' of Camoens; and, with the aid of the accom plished printer, Didot, got up a magnificent edition of it at an enormous expense, which was not to contain a single error. All thought that he had succeeded, but when tie book was printed, an error was discov ered in some of the copies, by one of the let ters of the word luzituno being displaced by some accident while working the sheets. The same experiment was made by a fa mous firm in Glasgow. Every precaution was taken to procure typographical accura cy. Six experienced proof readers were employed, who devoted many hours to each page, and when they had done with it, it was posted up in the hall of the university, with a notice offering a reward of fifty pounds to any person who discovered an er ror. Each page was thus posted for two weeks before it went to press. No error was discovered , but when the work was printed, several errors were detected, one of which was in the first line of the first page. THE BENEFITS OF USINU TEA.— The Boston Journal of Chcmiitry publishes a lengthy article on the properties of tea, in the course of which the ts, Iter says that it is no matter of wonder with him that the brain-workers, in all the years since tea was introduced, hat e regarded it with highest favor. It has a power to subdue irritabili ty, refresh the spirits, and renew the ener gies, such as is possessed by no other agent. When 'the system of man is exhausted by labor or study a cup of tea re-invigorates and restores as no other form of food or bev erage can. He thinks it promotive of lon gevity, and adds: "Tea saves food by lessening the waste of the body, soothes the vascular system, and affords stimulus to the brain. Ihe young do not need it, and it is worthy of note that they do not crave or like it. Chi'dren wid frequently ask for coffee, but seldom for tea. To aged people whose powers of digestion and whose bodily substance have to fad to gether, it is almost a necessity." HON. RKYERDY JOHNSON'S appointment as Minister to England, apparently, gives (great aatii fiwiion in that country, judging from the flattering reception with which the announcement has been received by the Lon don press. The JYmes says that "no envoy could be sent that would lie hailed with more confidence as the honored spokesman of a great nation. His intellect is admirably trained to discuss the pending or probable issues with precision, impartiality, dignity of character, breadth of learning and eharm of manner." The Daily \cics says that the "long experience and training of Mr. John son guarantees that he will represent the United States as a whole, and not section ally." Our Washington despatches state that the principal object of Mr. Johnson's mission will be the settlement of the Ala bama claims, and that he will leave for liis new field of duly about the middle of July. It is announced that no change is to be made in the Secretaries of Legation.— Bait. Amer. A PLUCKY old fellow whose son was a stu dent at one of our New England colleges, spent tbe day with him and stopped to tea.— When his cnp"Va3 filled he seized a bowl of salt, which he supposed to be sugar, and pnt the usual quantity in his tea. Sly glances and suppressed "snickering" led him to sus pect that something was wrong, but the old fellow, who didn't liked to be laughed at, worried it down, and putting on a face that was intended to make everybody think that be liked his "dose of salts," he called for another cup, and upon receiving it, said to the head snickerer:—"Young man, will you be kind enough to pass that bowl of salt?" The salt was passed, and amid the most breath less silence, he dipped a couple of spoonfuls into his tea, stirred it up, and ta3ted it with a look of apparent satisfaction. "Why, Mr. said the young man opposite to him, "do you drink salt in your tea?" "Always," answered the old man, with great emphasis, and in his pleasantest manner. KINO THEODORE, it is stated, advised his captains to attack the British by night, but they declined, and descended to their deaths by daylight. Had they obeyed, they would have had a new proof of the power which science can bring to bear in aid of slaughter. Sir Robert Napier had with him an appar atus for employing the magnesium light on a grand scale. At a distance of 600 yards a bewildering blaze of light WOT Id have boon thrown into the eyes of the Abysinlans, and the British, themselves in impenetrable shadow, would have shot down their ene mies at leisure. IT IS not until the flower has fallen off that the fruit begins to ripen. So in life it is when the romance is past that the practical usefulness begins. THE more a woman's waist is shaped like an hour glass the quicker will the sands of her life ran out. IT is the work of a philosopher to be every day subduing his passions, and laying aside liis prejudices. CONSCIENCE, be it ever so little a worm while we live, grows suddenly to a serpent on the death-bed. YOUTH writes hopes upon the sand, and age advances like the sea and wipes them out. THE man who got up a sensation grew dizzy and tumbled down. THE man who was brought upstanding must have wore' out many shoes and boots. TRANSPORTED FOR LIFE—A man who marries happily.