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BY S. J. KOW.
CLEARFIELD,- PA., WEDNESDAY. OCTOBER 27, 1869. YOL. w.-m 9. Select gortvy. THE BRIDAL. Sot 4 iMgh ws heard, not a joyous note, Ai our frifd 10 the bridal w8 borried ; Xol , ;t discharged his farewell shot, " At the bachelor went to be married. Ve married him quickly to save his fright, Our heads from the sad eight turning ; And sighed, at we stood in the lampsdim light, To thick that he was not more discerning. To think that a bachelor free an bright, And lhy of the sex aa we found him, Should there at the altar, at dead of night, Be caught in the snare that bound biin Few and short were the words we said, Though of wine and cake pnrtaking, Wt escorted him home from the scene of dread, While hi. knees were awfally shaking. S!uIy and sadlj we marched him down From the first to the lowermost story ; An i we never have heard or sees the poor man It hum we left alone in his glory. SAVED PROM DISGRACE. A SLEWLI RIDE ASD WHAT CAMS OF IT. Jonas Blenchford, with coat, hat and gloves already ou, heard the tinkle of the f'.ek-u LelU, and arose to go down, but when Lf reached the door, he felt a light touoh upon his arm, and heard the well known voh-e of his daughter. 'Ta, may I go?" '"But I'm otily going to the hand, Grace." "After tint, lather. I will go there and wait t:r you. I' not tae tae ve u'in lite to ?-t ready." "Well wli! Be spry, and I'll wait," Faid the old (.untlcmaa, quite merrily, "and l it give )u Mich a sleigh ride as you never hud before a U!jh ride extraordinary. a know I hate tie bia-A before the cut ter." "Sa mueh the Letter," said Grace : and lie ran away to dress, little dreaming how well the jnoiiiie wuuld be kept. J..hn Normandy stood by the window lu:;Liim out upon the busy street, eer and auoti glancing at his watch, as though itu I jti nt fur the time to pass. And indeed lie was. He had do thought for what was av-in; in the- street below. He saw Jonas r:.;i)ji,U:i 1 and his daughter as they drove up t. x)i.'. bank, hut forgot them the moment t! i j.a v. d irom fitht within the entrance. Ho In 1 wi'iihty thoughts upon his mind, ti.at e.'i'jld not be cat a--ide by any ordinary occurrence. He was somewhere about thirty years of till, ere:t, diguiiel, and very plain of fcaitt'ire. He had battled with discourage n.;r.ts am? poverty until hb very face bore njrki of the terrible struggles, but he had c 'f. jaerod. His motto had ever heeu "On ard aud npward," and, never giving way, I', lud at last become cashier of the bank cf K , a position both honorable and lu- crr.ii .tt. 'July a twelvemonth had he held the po 'ti.m.hat in ti:at .-hort time he had won the c nfidence of the officers of the Lank, the r.-arj of bis fellow employees, and was gns-rally lik-:d by these d jing business with him. tiill le was unsocial, lie lived a life of L own. When the bank was closed for ti:? Jay, he hurried away to his lodgings, !:.'. w:is seen no more until the hour of bus ir.fNi the titxt day. Bu.tiuess was his only leisure. He talked little worked much; is a ioor companion, but a true friend. IL merely turned his head when the l""sjciit and his daughter entered the batik, a th;n went back to his thinking ; but U ..tiv.-iiPjrl seemed disposed to molest him. "lhy dreaming, Normandy?" "I have eucuuutered so much reality that there ii but little of the imaginary left," turning toward them, ha!f re'uet- X-:';: ' Ob. ! Normandy. Not quite thirty. I ih -v 1 judge, and settling ilown into an i' i. r ai:, than I am. What arc you think- 1;-ja;j.-ut? It must nut be. Grace, can 'sid') anythiiia; to show this practical old S-uu-niaa ti e error, of his ways? I'll leave : i with Liiii to try, while 1 devote a few io'jit-n:', V) business." "D n't frtr-t the tide, father." ' -H-.L-r .'.ar. Yoti shall have it." N ::;iiP. is vfs really vexed to seti the old r-::-.iatirot away, snd leave him to cn- n :!. j i!,;s (..raoe B.eehford. tjrace l-: - t'- l it. and fd.e led him bv a Dretty "- - f .i.i tiiai i.rouht the smile to his . :i ot hitucif, and pruvukeJ some fcs.iry rcplie., that suunded strange '.' ' -:a When Iiicnchford rttui'D- '- ! "iii i tl.oui iiaite sociable. Norniao :1 :-i;iit: over the dJk, listenig to Grace's 3 rT f k. and occasiwaiiy pisttmg in a M ;Ua; ju jed huw well he was eujoyic l-awtng by smoke I" exclaimed --i...-t..-.r i iu mrpriee, but his manner .:: 1 iir.rt.e diately. Some very urgent '-keeps me here. Wait! Nioruiandy !i'e my place." ' I iio il.I be pleased," said he. ery2wd, Normandy; and remember I pruuid her a ride eucli as bhe dct t ad b. r .re.' A r:l- extraordinary, father." yes ; that was ic. Do not disap- l'-r." "Avur,.!y not." "'- -xoruiandy was drawine on ni M-d.. g..-nt.eiaari stepped to bis siaa .... . . . . . -tt-y s lace blanched whiter than the '- ltnt be recovered instantly. i'lauk you Ganson, for this proof of '-3r-r:eud,hip, but I have known it for h. ... I il a .- f " ur. rieae let it rest where it is, n u ''an, and I w;n luate jt aj r;gtt ; tbe - Jin. There i some great mistake. With a buoyancy of manner that surprised Grace, alter what she had seen, he conduct ed her to the sleigh, and with a gallantry little' expected from one bo practical, he handed her in, arranging the robes about her even more skillfully than her old father could have done. Then he took bis seat by her side, and off they went. Through the crowded streets, through the less crowded suburbs, out into the quiet country, Normandy all the while chatting merrily, a startling contrast to his real feel ings. But when once they were ous of the reach of tho din of the great city, his man ner changed entirely. Turning his dark, searching eyes full upon his companion's beautnul face, he asked, earne3tly, almost beseechingly: "Miss Blenchford, can vou trust me?" Surprised and somewhat annoyed, she hardly knew what to answer, Iut she saw that he was in earnest,and in the brief tune, she thought of all her acquaintances, aud not one of them would she trust sootier. "Why do yon ask, Mr. Normandy?" "If I bhould tell jou," taid he, "that those whom you hold most dear, yourself in cluded, were in great peril, and a peril that you never could guess, and that I had the power to save you all, would you believe n ltr 11 . . O T 11 1.. me : v outa you trust me ; v oum you oo guided by me for a brief time?" Startled by his manner, and convinced by liis earnestness, she replied as earnestly, 'Tea, Mr. "Normandy ; I can and do trust you. But why do you ask ?" "Do not ask me. It will be enough to tell you that you and your father and broth er are truly in great danger, and if you will place implicit confidence in me, I can save you. Drop your veil if you please. Thank you." Almost tenderly he wrapped the robes a rou&d her, yet uttering no word.- Then gathering the reins, he gave the horse a light blow, and away they went, at a pace that soon left the city far out of sight. "An extraordinary ride, surely," thought Grace, as they sped over thecrip snow ; and there was a wonder how it would end. But (die felt no fear, no regret, that she had placed herself in his hands. i-or hours they roJc, he noingaii in n;9 power to entertain b;r, succeeding so well that she almost forgot the singular position. in listening to his brilliant ta;k and vari?il expericuco. About dark t hey drew up at a tartn uouse, wnere isormanay ordered supper. While it was preparing, he asked after the comfori of his horse, rubbing him down with his own hand aud feeding him for the ride was not yet over. "We have four hours yet to ride." atd he to Grace. "Shall we go on?" 1 trust you, Mr. iNoruianJy. JjCt me help you if I can." 'Thank you ! Thank you, MUs Blench ford," he said gratefully xoufcfiall not repent it." Out into the night they started again lie procured additional robes at the larm house, and wiappcd his fair companion so closely that she did not fer.l the biting cold. He needed no covering; his blood was at a fever bight, defying the cold north wind more effectually than the warmest furs. On they drove through the still keen air; past farmhouses, over hills, across rivers, through dense woods and damp vallcy.Sjand yet the end of that ride was not yet. Could it be that John Normandy was playing false? Did he know that the of ficers of the law were searching for him far a!.d near? That his name and description had been flashed over the wires in alldirec tions? That his name was whispered upon the street as a defaulter a robber? That he was already charged with the abduction of Jonas Blenchford's fair daughter? He could not have driven faster had he known all of these, nor have seemed more impa tient to get over the ground. It looked very dark, yet Grace Bleuchford trusted him. "Wc are almost there," said he, halting the steaming horse, and pointing to a light ahead. "Are you sorry that you trusted me? It is not too late yet. "Your conduct is very strange, yet I have no fear," replied Grace. "You are one among a thousand," he said, honestly. He stepped out,and taking the bells from the hore, t-towed them away in the sleigh. Then he drove on cautiously toward the hVhL "Jt is our beacon," said be. "It tells us that I ."ni in time." lie stopped again when within a few hun dred yards of the house. Securing and we'll blanketing the horse, he helped Grace to alight, and together they walked toward the building. "We must be very cautious, else our ride will be for naught. He drew a revolver from his breast, and placed it in his great-coat pocket, where he could reach it without waste ot time "I have come prepared," he whispered, fceliiur his companion's arm tremble within his own. "Do not fear. I would rather lose my life than that one hair of your head should be harmed. They stopped in the shadow, just before the door. "Now, Miss Blenchford, you will have need of all your courage and fortitude," he whispered. "Within this house you see all that which will be agony to you, but it can not be avoided. By no other means could I save the Blenchford name from disgrace. Follow me. Ilevolver in hand, he burst open the door, and entered, quickly followed by Grace. With a cry of fierce anger, the only occu pant of the room sprang np to meet the in - truders ; but the momeut the light fell upon their faces he sank back into the chair with a groan, and buried his face in his hands. "Oh God! Lost, lost!" Grace Blenchford recognized her only brother James; and, seeing his distress, she sprang to his side to comfort him. "Don't touch mc,Grace !" he exclaimed, in terror. "Normandy, take her away ! Don't let her come near mel Why did you bring her here ? Oh, my sister is it possible 1 Great God 1 I shall go mad ! I can not en dure it ! Oh, why did you ever bria her hero ?" "To save yon," said John. He had closed and bolted the door, but still retained the revolver in hi9 hand, lie moved nearer to the conscience-stricken man. "James Blenchford, calm yourself," said he. "We have conic, not to harm, but to save you. The presence of your sister ought to tell you that." 1'oung Bleuchford raised his head with a hopeful look. "God bless you, John Normandy ! You know not what I hava suffered, but I dared not go back. And now you will keep it from my dear father?" "I will," said Normandy, solemnly. "No one shall know it, save ourselves." "But Grace?" said James. "She ueed know no more," said Norman dy. "I brought her here that the sight of her might give you courage to return with us." "John I shall tell her all," said James. "I shall tell her ail, but not now." "Where is your accomplice?" "He will arrive in the next train. I was waiting for him." "And that is due in thirty minutes, "said Normandy, looking at his watch. "Give me the money, James, and we will leave this place bnfore the villian arrives." Grace saw all, but heard nothing, for they had withdrawn to the ether side of the room that she might not bs pained ; but a great fear was weighing upon her a dread cf some approaching calamity. When they came back, she looked from one to the oth er for some explanation, but very little they rave her. Normandy spoke first. Miss Blenchford, you Ere puzzled at my words and actions, but you will pardon me, I kriiw. when I tell you that it is better for a:: ot us to say I;ttl8 about this matter. Your brother has been led into an error that threatened to be almost serious. Fortunate ly, everything is now arranged satisfactorily, thanks to your presence, and he will return to the city with us. Watch over him and pn-y for Lint, that Le may not stumble again." I ask it," said James ; and without an other word they left the house, and were oon on their way back to thtf city. Silently they rods Until the limits of the city wt-re rcaencj. Incn rioruiandy gave the reins to Janice, aud alighting, bade them adieu. "But you, John," said James, "what will you do?" Fear net for me," replied Normandy, adding in a whisper, "I shall not betray you whatever happsns." Then he charged them both never to tell what had passed between them that night ; and, without waiting to hear their replies, he strode rapidly down the street. He went directly to the bank, reaching it just at opening time, and, without a word to any one, went straight to the vaults his custom every morning and deposited the money that James Blenchford had stol en from them. Then he went back. aud met the officer to arrest him. lie expected it, but he had left the money in its place, and now he Was ready for prison. Ho felt thank ful that he had been allowed so tnuco time, lie had saved James Blenchford, his father and Grace, and what did he care now? He was alone in the world ; he had done his duty, and had hope. James Blenchford went to him in prison, but Normandy would hear nothing about surrendering himself. "Iwill tell you a secret, James, aud then you will see a motive for my actions. I love your sister better than my own life, and I could not bear to have a word whispered against her. Let it rest as it is. I am con tent." Again James Blenchford promised, but it was hard for him to abide by it. With all his faults he had a generous heart. That very day he told Grace the whole story of his disgrace, and how Normandy was suffer- iug for them; and she was touched by the recital, aud thought of every means to liber ate him. "Where is the money, Jamas?" "Normandy placed it in the safe, un known to any one." "And has it not been found ? Would not the whole matter be looked upon as a great blunder ; and would not Mr. Normandy be liberated at once, aud exhonoi atcd from all blame, if the money would be found there?" Away went James, without 'waiting to answer his sister's question, and within ten minutes was mounting the steps to the bank He sauntered up to Ganson, and carekssiy inquired if there was anything new in Nor mandy's case." "Nothing," replied Ganson. "He still protests his innocence, and I am inclined to think he speaks the truth." "So am I, Ganson. Do you know I am half certain that it is all a great mistake that the money is now somewhere about the safe." "I wish it might prove so. It is a hard blow for Normandy, and if it is gone, who eke could have taken it? He has the key to the safe.' "I don't believe it is gone," said B'ench- ' ford, controlling himself wonderfully. "I would like to make another search. I'll ask father. Jonas Blenchford felt very sore over the disgrace of his favorite, and especially since his daughter had returned, and spoken in the warmest terms of her treatment during the ride. He was, therefore, very willing to do anything to clear up the matter. He readily consented to make another search for the missing money, though he was well satisfied that it would be fruitless. And indeed it came very near being so. For full two hours they looked, pulling drawers, turning and unfolding papers, till eviry one but James was satisfied that it was not there. He, knowing, or fully be lieving thpt Normandy told the truth, did not give up, aad at last brought the pack age to light, from an obscuie corner where it might have been overlooked a score of times. . With a cry of joy James took the pack age and counted out the money, all in bills of a large denomination. "It's all ri?kt, boys I" he shoutfd "Nor mandy is innocent." Then all ras confusion. James ran home and told Grace, and they nyoiced together ; while their father went in person and pro cured the release of Normandy, telling the strange story as he went. It was tho happiest moment of his life whin Norman dy :ock his place in the bank again. James profited by his bitter experience. He never again swerved from the right, and is now living, a respected citizen of his na tive place. Grace ha? never forgotten her extraordinary sleigh ride, and never wil!,for her came is now Grace Normandy, and she loves her plain, noble-hearted husband, with true aifoction. Church Spires. Towers and spires have been fur centuries appendages to churches, and they are cer- taiuly ornamental. Their rreat expense, however, has cr.used.in this country at least, foolish attempts at economy in their con struction at the risk of their stability. We refer, of course to wooden structures. Mel ancholy illustrations of this occurred in the recent great blow, when many church spires were prostrated in New England ; the losses in many casec falling upon parishes poorly able to beer them. Now, is it not a perti r.eni. inr; uiry. whether Bach cataairophias can be prevented? und if to, bow? Spires, properly constructed, will sustain a greater v. ind pressur-3 than bouses br.ilt of the same material. Why, then, are they co cften blown down, cr.Jatverir!,'-; life and property ? Three causes may be aligned, aud these being attended to, spires will be secure. First, then, thce should be a sufficiency of timber of good size aud qtir.lity; second, there fhould be sufficient fastenings ; third, there should be frequent examinations to see that all parts of the spire are free from decay. No timber should be used in church spires except it be of the very best quality and cf ample sizo ; cr.re should be taken that all the main timbers I speak of thoso especially in ah upright position are fas tened together with heavy iron clamps and bolts, which can be rcrewed up when slack ened from any cause. Builders must not be atraid of expense in the beginning, for it is the hi shest economy in the end. The tall spire of the Elliot Church in Newton,which was watched carefully during the lat gale, stood perfectly firm, and why? Because it was built as above described ; and it will be found on examination that all the spires which have withstood the storms of the past fifty years in New England, have been erect ed in essentially the same manner, whiio those which have fallen before the gales have been cheaply and weakly built. Comfort or Tea Driskbrs. In the life of most persons a period arrives when the stomach no longer digests enough of the ordinary elements of food to make up for natural daily waste of the bodily substance. The size and weight of the body begin to diminish, more or less preceptibly. At this time tea comes in as a medicine to arrest the waste, and to keep the body from fall ing away so fast, and thus to enable the less energetic powers of digestion still to supply as much as is needed to repair the wear and tear of the Eolid tissues. No wonder.there fore, that tea should be a favorite on the one hand, with the poor, whose supply of substantial food is scanty, and on the other, with the aged and iufirm, especially of the feebler sex, whose powers of digestion and whose bodily substance have already began to fail. Nor is it surprising that the aged female, who has barely enough of weekly income to buy what are called the necessa ries of life,should yet spend a portion of her gains in purchasing her ounce of tea. She can live quite as well on less common food," when she takes her tea along with it : while she feels higher, at. the same time more cheerful and fitter for her work, because of the indulgence. Nothing on earth can smile but human beings. Gcnis may flah reflected light,but what is a diamond flash compared with au eye-flash and a mirth flash ? A face that cannot smile is like a bud that cannot blos som, and dries up on the staik. Laughter is day and tobriety is night, and a smile is the twilight that hovers gently bstween both and is more bewitehing'than either. There are later advices from Dr. Living stone, assuriugthe world of the safety of the most daring, and, we hope,- the most successful, of African explorers. These ad vices include a letter dated in July, 1SCS, from the Docicr himself, with tha subse quent accounts received, through traders from the interior, at Zanzibar. An old lady went to the Washington counr ly (Iowa) fair mistaking it for camp meeting. Kark Twain on Mr. Beecher. TheBev. Henry Ward Beecher' s private habits are the subject of Mark Twain's la test contribution to the Buffalo Esprest. The whole article is extremely funny, but that portion which relates to Mr. Beccher's farming experience is in the humorist's most extravagant vein, and quite equal to his best efforts. It is as follows : "Mr. Beecher's farm consists of thirty-six acres, and is carried on on strict scientific principles. He never puts in any part of a crop without consulting his book. He plows and reaps and digs and sows according to the best authorities-and the authorities cost more than the other farming implements do. As soon as the library is complete tha farm will begin to be a profitable investment But book farming has its drawbacks. Upon one occasion, when it seemed morally certaiu that the hay ought to be cut, the hay book could not be found and before it was found it was too late and the hoy was all spoiled. "Mr. Beecher raises some of the finest crops of wheat in the country, but tho un favorable difference between the cost of pro ducing it and its market value after it is produced has interfered considerably with its succecs xs a commercial enterprise, liis special weakness is hogs hofrever. ITs cou sidors hogs tho lest game the farm produeoa He buys the original pig fcr a dollar and a half, and feeds hisi forty dcllars Trorth of corn, and then cells him for .but nine dol- lais. This Is the only crop he crer makes any money on. He loses vn the corn, but he makes seven dollars and a half on the hog. lie does not mind this, because he never expects to make anything on corn. anyway. And then he has tha excitement of raising the hog anyhov, whether he gets the worth of him or not. His strawberries would be a comfortable success if the robins would eat turnips, but they wont, and hence the difficulty. "One of Mr. Beecher's m03t harrassing difficulties in his farming operations comes of the close resemblance of different sorts of seeds and plants to each other. Two years ago, hia far-sightedness warned him that there wa3 going to be a great scarcity of water-melons.and thei-efore he put in a crop of twenty-seven acres of that fruit. But when they came up they turned out to bo pumpkins, and a dead loss was the conse quence. Sometimes a portion of his crop goes into tha ground tne most promising sweat potatoes, and comes up the iufernal eot carrots though I never have heard him express it in just that way. Wheu he bought his farm he found one egg in every hen's nest on the place. Ha said that here was just the reason why so many farmers lailsd they scattered their forces too much con centration was the idea. So he gathered those eggs together and put them all under one experienced old hen. That hen roosted over that contract night and day for eleven weeks under the anxious supervision of Mr. Beecher himself, but she could not "phase" thost? eggs. Why? Because they were those infernal porcelain things which are used by ingenious and fraudulent farmers as ' nest eggs." But perhaps Mr. Beecher's most disastrous experience was the time he tried to raiso an immense crop of dried ap pies.' He planted fifteen hundred dollars worth, but never a one of them sprouted. He has never been able to understand to this day, what was the matter with those apples." A smart old lady at Portland, a few days ago, was seen on a railroad track a short distance before the train. The engineer whistled and rang the bell, but to no ourpose. She continued to walk on until she was unceremoniously seated on the cow catcher. When the train completely stop ped she alighted and very pleasantly said to the engineer, "I heard your whistle, but thought it was from a tug boat. I am much obliged to you for stopping." Here is a dismal effort of the Chicago Re publican, which passes for a very good joke in the breezy locality : A New York shirt- maker" claims to have fallen heiress to one hundred thousand dollars, but her enemies contend that she is the victim of a chim- my-ra. A marrying bachelor anxiously asks if it would be of any use to attempt to make love to a young lady after on5 has stood on her dress until he could hear the gathers rip at the waist? If he would re drexs the wrong. she probably would not reject his oi-dress. A New Orleans attorney had for a client a young woman whose leg had been bitten by a dog, and he referred to the circumstance as an injury to "that elongated member which assists in sustaining the body in its efforts at locomotion." The Menomonee (Wis.) Titrate advertis es for a boy to learn the printing business, and has "no objection to his knowing more than we do, but wants hivi to agree to have it take him more than three months to learn the trade." In a certain village in Massachusetts, the topers label their rum jugs " ashing ilu id." Very appropriate for rum has washed many a man clean out of house, home, and humanity. A young gentleman, epeakiug of a young beauty's fashionable hair,called H pure gold. "It ought to be," quoth an old bachelor, "it looks like twenty-four carrots." Mrs. Vice President Colfax has come out with the whole weight of her moral influ ence aaainst the panier. She thinks it the proper furniture for a donkee. "I don't admire ladies' cuffs," as the hus band fcaid when his wife boxed his ears. I Ma. Row: Flease insert the following pines in the columns of the Jocrxal, as they are tho heart tokens of a real bereave ment. Hattie. We have parted from each other, And my heart is sad and lone, For I loved you deeply, truly, la the days that now have flown. We have parted from each other When the storm was thick and dark, We parted, Oh ! too coldly, Tet 'tis hard to give you np. Like the strong and constant ivy Clings my lonely heart to you. Oh. I'll never Snd another Who will more constant prove. Ah ! this world is fall o! sorrow, I have drained its bitter oup, Bat above there is another. There alone I put my trust. Whenycur pleasant smile was on me, All that's hard seemed easy, sweet; Now that also is denied me, What can cheer my weary steps t When my saddened form is kneeling, When my lips are moved in prayer, I will breathe of him who fondly, Truly loved this heart now drear. Shall I let so ono deprive you Of your place within my heart, Keep it for you, sacred, holy, Till we meet again above? There no cruel hand can sever, There no storms can come to mar; Oh, that we may meet in Heaven This shall be my daily prayer. "Somebody's Darling." In the still solemn hours of the departed night, a wail of anguish floated up from a grief-stricken mother asroan of agony es caped the lips of a suffering father. A lit tle wee form in ks crib breathed slower and slower, a little heart fluttered fainter and fainter, little pale cheeks grew colder and colder, little white lingers clasped tighter, and through the doorway entered the white winged angsl and tenderly clasped to her bosom and bore away to the eternal throne the spirit past suffering, Darling is dead ! No more will her little glad voice ring out to tease and vex you. Never again will you listen to tha patter of the chubby feet In its narrow home lies, this morning, tho form that every night knelt down with upturned angel face and clasped hands to repeat the little prayer: "Now I lay me down to sleep, 1 pray the Lord my soul to keep 1" Somebody's darling is dead. If you and I arc not grieving, only next door may the solemn crape tell the passer that death is there. Every day soma little spirit soars away to the right hand of him who loves theni best of all. Some little form some little miniature of us grown old is every hty tenderly placed in its flower-decked cof fin. Children of the rich, children of the poor all are one with death, and poverty does not sear the heart so that grief cannot creep in. Ail were children once all have felt child hood's griefs, wept childhood's tears, shared childhood's happy joys. The old man ol to day, almost a child again in his thoughts and deeds, once was a merry laughing boy, all days to him were days of sunshine, and he sighed when he thought of the many, many years ere time would make of him a man. He has felt the greater griefs of boy hood, the rude shocks of manhood, the good and the evil in men and the world, and he looks back to the days of youth to think that time has so soon made him old. Somebody's darling always is dead always can wc sec the weeds of widowhood, the sad faces o orphans, hear sobs of grief and feel the bitter tears of anguish. To-day the crape is on yon door to-morrow it may cive its bitter sign from your's. Life death eter nity ! And yet how seldom do we think to drop kind words, to be a child again iu gen erous deeds to fellow men. Wearing Mourning. Wo long for the day when this custom shall be absolete. It is unbacoming the tru ly afflicted one. Tho wearer says by the black garments : "I have lost a dear friend. I am in deep sorrow." But true grief does not wish to parade itself before the eye of the stranger ; much less does it assert its extent. 1 he stricken one naturally goes a- part from the world to pour out its tears. Ileal affliction seeks privacy. It is no re' epect to the departed friend to say we are in sorrow. If we have real grief, it will be dis covered. When God has entered a house hold in the awful chastisement of death it is time for religious meditation and com munion with God on the part of the survl vors. How sadly out of place, then, are the milliner and dressmaker, the trying on of dresses and the trimming of bounuts. There is something profauc in exciting the vanity of a young girl by fitting a waist or trying on a hat, when the corpse of a father is ly ing in au adjoining room. It is a sacrilege to drag the widow forth from her grief to be fitted for a gown, or to select a veil. It is oftwn terribly oppressive to the poor. The widow, left desolate, with half a dozen lit tle children, the family means already re duced by the long sickness of the father, must draw on her scanty purao to pay for a new wardrobe fur herself and children, throwing away the goodly stock of garments already prepared, when she most likely knows not where to get bread for those little ones. Truly may fashion be called a tyrant, when it robs a widow of her last dollar. Surely your sorrow will not be questioned, even if you should not call in the milliner to help you display it. Do not in your affliction, help to uphold a custom which will turn the affliction of your poorer neighbor todeeper poverty, as wcil as sor row. 77te Central Baptist. The heart seldom grows better by age. A young liar will generally be an old one ; and a young knave only a greater one. VW. WALTEK3. Attoksby at Law, . Clearfield, Pa. Office in the Court Hoase. f 7ALTER BARRETT, Attorney at Law, Clear V field, Pa. May 13, ISM. ED. W.GRAHAM, Dealer in Dry-Goods. Groce ries, Hardware. Queensware. Woodenwas, I'roTisioaa, etc.. Market Street. Clearfield, Pa. DAVID Q. SIVLISO .Dealer in Dry-Oooda. Ladies' Fancy (ioods. Hats and Caps. Boots, Shoes. etc .Seeond Street. Clearfield, Pa. sepS .TERRELL & BIOLER, Dealers in Hardware Lv L and manufacturers of Tin and Sheet-iron rare, Second street, Clearfield, Pa. June 'AS. IT F. NAUGLE, Watch and Clock Maker, and IL. dealer in Watches. Jewelry, Ao. Room li Graham 'srow, Marketstreet. jov. 1. HBUCHER BWOOPB. Attorney at Law.Clear . field, Pa. OSes in Graham's Row, fourdoorf west of Graham A Boynton's store. Nov. 10. HW. S.MITH, Arronsier at Law, Clearfield, . Pa . will attend promptly to busines en trusted to his care. June 30, 18A9. WfrLLIAM A. WALLACE. Attorney at Law, Y Clearfield. Pa.. Legal business of ail kinds promptly and accsrately attonded to. Clearfield, Pa , June 9th, 1S6. J. B M'EN ALLY, Attorneyat Law. Clearfield. Pa. Practices in Clearfield and adjoining tuunties. UCce in new brick building ot J . rloyn t n, 2d street, one door south of Lanich'a Hotel. rTEST, Attorney at Law, Clearfield, Pa., will . attend promptly to all Lejal business entrust ed to bis care in Clearfield and adjoining coun ties. Office on Market street. July 17, 1887. rilllOMAS II. FORCET. Dealer In Square and Sawed Lumber. Dry -Good a, Queensware, Gro ceries, Flour. Grain, Feed, Bacon, Ao , Ao., G ra h am ton, Clearfield county, Pa. Oct. 10. J P. KRATZER, Dealer in Dry-Ooods. Clothing, , Hardware. Queensware, Groceries. Provi sions, etc., Market btreet, nearly opposite tn Court House. Clearfield. Pa. June, 18C5. HARTSWICK A IRWIN. Dealers In Drugs, Medicines. Paints. Oils. Stationary, Perfume- r . Fancy Goods, Notions, etc, cto-. Marketstreet, learSeld, I'a .Dee. 8, IS6S. "H KRATZER A SON, dealers in Dry floods, . Clothing. Hardware, Queonsware, Groce. ies, Provisions, Ac, Second Street Clearfield, Pa. Dec 27, 186S. JOHN GFELICH. Manufacturer of all kinds ol Cabinet-ware, Market street. Clearfield, Pa He also makes to order CofSns. on short notice, and ttendr funerals with a hearse. AprlO.'SS. rpiIOMAS J. M CCLLOCGn, Attorney at Law, X Clearneld, Pa. OBce, east of the '-Clearfield o Hank. Deeds and other legal instruments pre pared with promptness and accuracy. Jnly S. RICHARD MOSSOP. Dealer in Foreign and Da mestic Dry Goods, Groceries, Flour. Bacon. Liquors. Ac. Room, on Marketstreet, a few doors west ot Jottrntl Ofirt, Clearfield, Pa. Apr27. FREDERICK LEITZINGER, Manufacturer of ' all kinds of Stone-ware, Clearfield, Pa. Or der Mlicited wholesale or retail He also keep on hand and for sale an assortment of earthans) ware, of bis own manufacture. Jan. I, 1S6S V M. HOnVER.Wholca!e and Retail Dealer lm 1. TOBACCO. CUiARS AND SNUFF. A Inre assortment of pipes, cigar cases. Ae., con stantly on hand. Two doors East of tha Post Office, Clearfield, Pa. May 19, '69. "VTT'ESTERN HOTEL, Clearfield. Pa ThU y well known hotel, near the Court House, la worthy the patronage of the public The table will be supplied with the bet in the market. Tba best of liquors kept. JOHN DOUGHERTY. TOHN H. FULFORD. Attornev at Law. Clear- J field. Pa. Office on Market Street, over II art. -wick A Irwin s Druz Store. Prompt attention given to the securingofBounty claims, Ae.,and to 1 legal business. Jttarca Z7, l&bT. W ALBERT, A EM'S .Dealers In Dry Goods, fc Groceries, Hard ware. Queens ware. Floor Ba con, etc.. Woodland. Clearfield countv. Pa. Also extensive dealers in all kindsof sawed lumber shingles, and square timber. Orders solicited. Woodland, Pa., Aug. 18th, 1SB3. DR. J. P. BURCH FIELD Late Surgeon of tha 83d Reg't Penn'a Vols., having returned from the army, offers his professional services to the citizens of Clearfield and vicinity. Profes sional calls promptly attended to. Ofiee OB South-Eant corner of 3d and Market Streets. Oct. 4. 1H65 Amp. QUBVEYOIl. The undersigned offers nis services to the public, as a surveyor. Ho may be found at his residence in Lawieoea township, when not engaged ; or addressed by letter at Clearfield. Penn'a. March 8th. 1867.-tf. J AMES MITCHELL. JEFFERSON L I T Z, M. D., Physician and Surgeon, Having located at Ofceola. Pa., offers his profes sional services to the people of thatplaoe and sur rounding country. All calls promptly attendee! to. Office and residence on Curtin Street, former ly occupied by Dr. Kline. May IS, '61. rpilOMAS W. MOOBE, Land Surveyor and Conveyancer. Having recently lo cated in the Borough of Lumber City, and reeaai suuied the practice of Land Surveying, respect fully tenders his professional services to tba own ers and speculators in lands ia Clearfield and ad joing counties Deedpof Conveyance neatly ex ecuted. Office and residence one door ast of Kirk Sr Spencers Store , Lumber City. April 14, 1869 ly. Q OLDIEBS' BOUNTIES. A recent bill has passed both Houses of Congress.and signod by tho President, giving soldiers who en listed prior to 221 July. ISfil. served one year or more and were honorably discharged, a boanlv of. 100. rvBounties and Pension collected by me for luoaeouuueu 10 tnein- WALTER BARRETT, Att'y at Law. I5th, 1856. Clearfield, P. Aug J LEA It FIELD HOU8B. FRONT STREET, PHILIPSBURO, PA. I will impeach any on who says I fall to glvt direct and personal attention to all onr customers, or -fail to cause them to rejoice overs well far nished table, with olean room and new beds, where all may feel at home and tha weary be at rest. New stabling attached. Philipsbnrg, Sep. 2, 68. JAB. H. QALIB. EXCHANGE HOTEL -L Huntingdon, Penn'a. This old establishment having been leased I J. Morrison, formerly Proprietorof the "Morriae Honse. has been thoroughly renovated and r furnished, and supplied with all the modern ia provements and conveniences necessary to i elaes Hotel. The dining room has been rcn m. toe ursi noor, and is new spacioas and airy. The chambers are all well ventilated, and the Proprietor will endeavor to make bis (nests ner- fectly at home. J. MORRISON, Huntingdon June IT. 1588. Proprietor. DENTAL PARTNERSHIP. D R. A.M. HILLS desires to inform his patient) an the public generally, that he has associated r, o V " Pcl,c" f entntry.S. P.SHAW. 1. li. S , who is a gradual nf ih. Pkn.j.i.L, Dental College, and therefor has tb hlthest attestations of his Profeasional skill All work don in th office will hold myself ' . " responsioie tor being don In the meat feionCt0rymDnernd kIbest order of th pro .t.?"tWiB,l,!d P' of twentw-tw years la conflWen t0,?"k t0 7 patron witk Engagements from a dlstane should b mad by letter a few days befor th pett.atdeei.n eoming. I Clearfield, Jan I, aWB-ty,