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SINGLE COPIES, V VOLUME X,--NUMBER. 19. THE FOTTER JOURNAL, ETEET TnCEiDAY MORXIXC, BY Thos. S. :i;nso, To nhem all Letters and Coinmomcatioa. ihould be addressed, to secure attentioa. Terms—S a variably ia Advance: ?(L'2s per Annum. Toi*3as ol' Advertising. 1 Square fee liiiesl I insertion, - - - s<j • - "" 3 " - - - $1 fiLieh ?nbseqnn' insertion less than 13, 25 1 Sqiu~e three monlas, ------- 2 s<j ; "six " ------- 4 'jij l " IJIUO •' ------- 5 50 1 " on; re a", <j 00 tftnl? and ijg irt. work. per sq., 3 in*. 3 00 tverv subsequent Lus&ruoa, ----- 50 i (\*luata sn njontliu, ------- 13 00 " " '• ------- lo ou ■J " " " 7 O'i ; " prr jeer, 30 00 i " 1 ' 4 ' - tu 00 Aiscin'strator's or Executor's Notice, 200 iadlto s Nonces, each, ----- -- 150 leritTs Sales, per tract, ------ ijg i-rriagr Soi:C-:s. isc!i, ----- -- 100 l-:j. ' >s or Pro:'j- oral Cards, r* h. uor exce iing 3 l;n;s per year, - - 500 £.c si and Editorial Notices, pe: line, 10 All trap .;nt aiircrtiiemcnto inast be pa Utu a Iran:.-, umi no no.ire will bo taken of sdisfti-ii meati from adivi&ncc, it ulcus Hu-j i c licco'n-.aaici bv the money or satistuctory re.rr.-atf. 'Jtosiafss Ctiirti.s. f nr::xk--fa tM*iPldl|(nMM:aiU.' , u:!UaitlMllUhJtlllU4lllUlUlh Joii N 3. Ai A.S . ifTORXEY AND COUX.SLLLuR AT LAW, Loudersj)p:t. I'sc, will ailend the tevtral Courts -ii Potter ani M'iCtan Counties. All entrusted in bis <:are \% 111 receive prompt atu-atioa. Office on Main st.. oppo ssiii the Court Ifouie. lu:l F. w. knox, ATTORNEY AT I. VYV". Coud-trspc: t. Pa., will luteiul tn Concts in Potter and the adjoining Counties. 10; 1 ARTHUR u. OLMSTED, iTTORN'LY i CUtfXSKLi.oii AT LAW, Coudcrapoi t. Pa., will attend to al* busim •> entrusted to his care, Wi:h promptnes and Ideiity. Office in Temperance Ufe k. sec ma.! ioor. Main St. 10:1 ISA Ac i:EN SON. ATTORNEY AT LAW. Coude:>p..rt, Pa., will a:Rnil Lti a!; uu -ill .-as c. a . .r. ou . ;u. v. • ilj cart :tn-l p'Oinptnc.ss. Oliiec ct n. roi' \\ aiici Tiii' d sis. 1: I is. i\ WILLiSTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW. Weii-cc o . Tioga Co.. ia.. w ii a. <•! the Loans in Pth.ici* a:. .V: - -ita Ceunties. 0:13 A, P. CONE, ATTOAA AT LAW. \\ ell short/. Tioga Co i'.t v.iii r galai L attend the Co.*.' Pot.er C'uanty. u. I.i K. W. DENTON, 3VSYSYOIJ AND CONVEYANCER Ita> Rotid P. 0.. A i g-'ii. Tp. Pi- io. wii attend to all in . in h: in . ... rare and -dispa; h. . W. K. KING, SCRVEYCR. DRAFTSMAN AND CONVi ■ attend to bi:.vn<- . or u. u- • . ; at bin ;- tot lam, upon 1-a o-a :c -• . L. : . ♦* g'.v-.-a i! requi: S.— " o an fart o; .itc t ou—o i:Jc . .. O. T. fA.c.SUN, TRACT!''i v * 1* PL YsICCtX. 'o . i --port. Pa. r pert;ulF informs .he c ii.-no! ii vii t*gt ...ud \ ••in.ty that L v i uiu i \ r. - *pyrd to all call lor pro! -ion .1 •• \ >.'• Oi.c? oa JiHiu t.. in Ltiii lii.go: u:-.;L c - rup ed by C. W. Hi! . h' . n.JJ C. 5. UOS C'A. L_ ' T . . . JO S Eil, 2-i AN N ev J<>A' LS, DSilifdlo IS i i.. ' )'. S (Tt-.i , IP.Y .Re it.- .V (ir.> ~!j ; rror.rit'Ul. M:l:U St., t_i. " r.- '..ia , I'll. 1• : 1 oonusa SUITS. k. A. jo>ls. S.VI I Til A JON Kc, PKALERS IN DRUGS. MEDICINES. PAINTS. PaucT Articlf. Stations; • Dry ti..o-ls. Groceries, cue., Alain St., Coud' rsj or-. Pa. IU: 1 D- E- OLMSTED, TEAI.XR IN' DRY GOODS, RLADY-MADK Crockt-rr, Gtoccrits, .kc., M*.u -t.. C-cuder&port, Pa. Id:I M. W. MANN, jpEALER IN BOOKS A ST \TIONKP.Y. MAG AZINES and Music, N. W. coiner on Main aa i Third its. f Coadcrsport. Pa. io. 1 K. ii. IIAIUUNGTON, i#WKLLKR, Con-ier.-port. Pa., having engag a wigrfo'-v in fc"hocnuuer A Jack?o-u - 3-ore will cajry en tLo Watch ftjjd Jvv }ry •i?iii-s there. A line a.s-ortin* q: of Jew- Ory csaslantly on hand. Watches au-i dewciry carefully repaired, in the bc-t style. fa tac shortest notice—all wo. lv warraaied. f.24 J. OLMSTED, 'srfCESSOR TO J.SMTS W. SUiTQ.) ®*IALER IN STOVES. TIN SHEET IRON "•ARM. Ma u St.. nearly oppoat.- the Court house. Louder:-port. Pa. 1 a t.iyi Sheet Loa Ware made to order, in good sttic. on Jbort notice. *lO.l POUDE-H&i uii-i DOT EL, ! • OL ASSMIRS, Proprietor. Corner of at ] Second Streets. Loade*.sport. Poi *>~r Co., fa. 3:44 A!J.KGAN Y U6UBE~ PA'nrEL M. MILLS, Proprietor, Coles burg, Co., Pa.. s*vea miles north oi* Ocu- en the TTePrrille Road. 9. 14 i Ijlufhut. ,s THE MUSIC OF THE R.UN. ~ : I ASXARINTa AVOCR-YF-EN-. a While t::c resper btlls vrere ringing. hen the birds had coast d their singing, To my heart sweet ractn'ries bringing Cauie the tnusic of the rain. Mr chihihood days so bright and fleeting y Tiny rain-drops seesnrpl repeating, "W .ikin- joy at thoughts of meeting Tho-e I ne'er mav sco again. i Mem'Fcs sweet o;nl sr.d were blending, I,| T L i JOY and sorrow both were lending - oiecs which were eror ending: Sweet the music of the rain. From my heart I may not sever Mem'rj. a ind> x pointing ever Backward to the joys that never }; Will revisit me ag. in. j. Though to-uav i-: full of sorrow, ); From the past we stiil may borrow Joys once tasted, while to-morrow Whispers ever, hope in me! Like sweet harp-string* t nieh d all lightly— Dreams the fairies weave us nightly— Come t'iA rain drops smiling brightly, Dripping from each waving tree. Jeweled V >s--osns brightiy gleaming Like tite stars of Heaven beaming, While a muflled voice is seeming •Still to hum the mystic strain ; Music cf tho-e ''->w!r _' numbers Lulls the heart to dreamy slumbers, Waking stiil a thousand wonders Of the magic voice c>f rain. | - §t\nk\ gait. THE FIRST SHAI >OW. . i BY T. S. ARTHUR. ! • Ida was a brine. Ouward througli a whole year of jiutieat waiting, liad she moved toward t'tii- blessed, estate, all her tlioug! t.s golden over, till her fancies radi ';iul with love and beauty. .\nd now she was a bride—a happy bride, ile who had woo iicr. was worthy to wear her as a crown. Kind, honorable and gifted—his praise was on the lips of all men. Yes. Ida was a happy bride. It was the blooming, fragrant spring-time. Singing birds were in all the trees; musical wa : is glided through the peaceful land se. p ; an-J a cliiudless sky bending over ah. The blessedness of this new hie was r.:v:.U'i' in. she had tv r imagined, in a!! the warmth of her maiden fancies. A ii m i; hat- vara <j and waned since the !;;v- r became the husband ; a moon drcp.- ; ing the sweets of Mount Uybla. It was evi ning, ai.d Ida stood by the window looking ma 11:*< ugh the dusk waiting and wishing, for the return of her husband, who was lajer than usual iVont home. At iast, her glad ey< s caught a glimpse of lii> weli known form, and starting back from the wind w. she went with springingsteps to meet him at the door; opening it ere his hand could ting the bell. ' Dear Edward I" V liat a ga-iiing love was in her voice '. She raised her lips for a kiss, and a kiss was given. Tint some how, ite warui'h did not go down into her heart. "Are you not we!?- dear ? she asked, > • r\ tenderly, as they entered ti ed picas ant little parlor ; and she looked up into lib face and tried to vend hi -expressions. Hut the twibght was too deep. "Quite as well as usual love.'' 'i he voice of her husband was low and gentle; but it had a new and changed sound lo# the young wife's ear —a sound that made her heart tremble. And vet, his arm was around her, and he held one of her hands tightly compressing it within his own. It grew dark in the room before the gas was lighted. When the strong ray-, ieli suddenly unou the face of her husband, J 4 Ida saw a change there also. 11 was cloud ed. Not heavily clouded —but in shadow. Steadily and earnestly she looked at him. until he turucd his head partly away, to escape the searching scrutiny. ••You are not well Kuward?'' Ida look ed serious—aimo.-t concerned. "Don't trouble yourself, I'm very well. He smiled and patted her cheek play fully— cr. rather with an attempt at play iuluvss. Ida ■ not deceit ed. A e iange hau passed over her ligsbaud. aic was ;not as he had been, in due time tea was announced, and the little family party of two gathered around to Toe ibhirEpfes J' Xrue ikipocrqcti, {p>D ti>e of i/loraLfe, Jlite pnd Tu'fe?. COUUERSPORT, FOTTER COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1837. the tsblc in the neat breakfast room. ; "Burnt tea.-t and dDh water tea. as usu - alThese were the Erst Ifofds spokei by the young husband, after sitting down jto the table ; aad the manner iu wluch they were uttered, left Ida in no doubt as ! to his state of feeling. How suddenly was the tine gold dimmed. A few hours earlier the young husband | had called to see his mother, an orderly industrious woman, and a notable house ; keeper. As usual, he was full of the pr.tix • of his beautiful young wife, in whom ; he had yet .seen nothing to blame—noth ing below perfection. But his mother : hod 1 iked at her with different eyes.—- j Living iu the world was, with her, no hol iday affair, and marriage no mere honey moon. She was too serious iu all her views | and feelings, to have much patience with what she esteemed mere play day life. A little jealous of her sen's affection, she was, withal; and his going forth to anoth . ei, with an ardor so deferent from what it had ever gone forth to herself, modeller feci cold toward the dear little wife of Ed ward. who was his favored object. •*]t is time," she said, with a distance iof manner that surprised her son. "for you t aud Ida to be a little serious. 9be honey moon is over, and the quicker you come down to sober realities the better. There ii one thing about Ida that rather disap points me." Edward was too much surprised, at this unexpected annunciation, to speak. His mother went on. "She's no housekeeper " | "She's young, mother. She'll learn," lie said, interrupting her. "She had no right to marry until she , *' knew bow to make a cup of tea?" The old lady spoke with considerable asperity, j "Mother:" "I say just what T mean. Not a sin gle cup of tea have 1 yet tasted in your house that was tit to drink ? i don't know how you cart put up with such stuff*. You Wouldn't have done it at my'table, I'm . very sure." "Pi< as-e mother, uou't talk so auy more . about Ida! I <-an't hear to hear it.*' " You can bear to hoar the. truth, Ed • ward. 1 speak t' -r Ida's good flagL voar own too. She's a wife now ; not a mere - wee heart. And she's your in. use-keeper besides, with something more to do and . care fur, than dross, music, party going . and enjoyment. 1 must say, as I said a . nil ic wiiiie ago. that lam (Ufuppointed in her. WL.it are girls thinking about ! when they get mavriou ? . Surely, not of their hu-hand's household comforts.'' "If you please, mother, we will change . the subject," said the young man. who was e.\ci ediiigh pained by the strong lan . guage lie had heard. He spoke so tirin : h that the matter was dropped, and not again alluded to at the time. We have, now, an explanation of the • change in the young husband's state of . mind. There were some truths in what • i:h mother said, and tlii.- ni&cfeit so mack hprdk rto bear. The first shadow had fal , lt-n, that dimmed the brightness of Lis - new and h: ;>pv life. fetiii 11;e delects in Ida—very small to his eyes, even after they were pointed out by his modi or-—v. arc things of no mo > meat. lie had not intended her for a ; household drudge. Was sine not ioviug r hearted, accomplished and beautiful? — : What more could he ask ? i True, lie had intended her for the pre • siding genius of his home; and there were . sober, matter-of-fact things to be done in all homes. But her devotion to those would come in g> d time., iiow Euward came to speak s he did about the tea'and , toast, was almost on the instant that he - had given utterance to his words, a myste ry to himself. He started wita the start . that he gave his young wife, and trembled > for the effect of his unkindly uttered words. He would have given much could - lie have recalled them. But they were said beyond any power of unsaying. The reference of his mother to the ia different tea with which she had been ser ■ ved at his table, had not only mortified : him, but made some things distiuot in his ■ memory, which, bef. re, were only seen dimly, and as matters of indifference.— 1 Where all was so bright, why should he i'turn hi? eyes upon a f r .y fragmenta^of 'clouds skirting the far horizon? He i- would uot have done so if left to himself, u 'I he*clouds might have spread until verv n much larger than a man's hand, before h their murky aspect would have drawn his s happy vision from the all-prevailing y brightness. Ida's hand, which was raising a cup to .1 her lips, fell almost as suddenly as if pal i sied ; a paleness over- pread her couute - ■ nance : her lips bad a motion between a e quiver and a spa.-un. Trout her eyes i which seemed bound, as by a spell, to her - husband's face, tears rolled out and fell iu r large drops over her cheeks. Never before, since Edward had looked - upon that dear young face, had he seen - its b so veiled. Never before, - had a word of his been answered bv auv ) tiling but smiles and love responses. 1 "I'm sorry, Edward. 'liow the sad . tremulous voice of Ida rebuked the young - husband's unkiudness. "It shall not be I so again." And she kept her word. Suddenly he - had a wake ued her from a bright dreamy ilia sion. Slie had been in a kind of fairy • land. The hard, every-day working world, i with its common working-day wants, by - an unlooked-fer shifting of scenery, had ■ struck with an unlovely aspect upon her i startled vision; the jagged edges of the - real wounding painfully her soft ideal.— But, once awakened, she never.slept again. ; It was the first shadow that fell dimly and coldly upon her married heart—the first, and to the life experienced, we need not go tr the last. Burnt toast and had tea! To think that common things like these should ' have power to shadow a young heart bas -1 king in the sunlight of love ! Ida had thought of her husband as almost indif ferent to the vulgar wanteds words made manifest. She saw clearer new. lie was ' but flesh like the rest. Aery, very tenderly spoken were all the words of Edward to his young wife, du ring the shadowed evening that followed this first diimiiug of their home light.— And Ida, who felt the kindness of his heart, tried to smile and seem as of old. ■ But. somehow, she could not force into ' existence the smiles she wished to send out as tokens of forgiveness. Thoughts ' of the bad tea and burnt toast, the "usual" —and there lay the smart !—entertain ment she had provided ; or. rather, suffer ed to he provided by unskillful hands- - were her own any more skilful ? for her returning husband haunted her all the while. "it shall not be so again !" Not idly uttered were these words. All the cve -1 uiug she kept repeating them to herself, with a steadily increasing purpose and si clearer vision. "Edward shall never have another occasion fur rebuke." Several times during the evening, the voung husband was tempted to refer to the conversation held with his mother, in explanation c-f his own conduct, but he wisely kept his own council. Of all things he dreaded an estrangement be tween his wife and mother. On tHe next morning, Euwavd noticed that the young wife left her chamber ear lier than usual and went down stairs. Not. however, to fill thc-ir home with music, as she had ofteu done. Her matinee was tlm singing tea kettle, not the stringed piano. She bad a heightened color, when she took her place at the breakfast table, and pour ed Or-her husband the fragrant coflbe, made with her own hands, because she hud discovered that her indifferent cook was ignorant of her art. How did she know the art ? It was almost accidental; c.f .-.ome v.-'-'d home wife's talk had served her in the right iimc.— I lie warm praise that Edward bestowed on the cotfoe was ample reward. Ida had bought a cook ho k during the day. That sounds unromantic. But it was even so ; and she studied it for hours. During the afternoon her mother-in-law came iu; and Ida urged her to stay for I „ ; tea. The old lady accepted the invitation; not, we are sorry to say in the very best spirit. She had opened the war on Ed ward's butterfly wife, and sbo meant to follow it up. When Edward came home aiid found that his mother was there Lis y pistil fell- He saw by the ccraers of her mouth, that she had not forgotten their . interview of the preceding day; and that her state of mind was not a wliit more • charitable. Ida's face was a little shad ; owed: but she w>s cheerful, and very at : tentive to Ins mother —and. happily igno rant of hfe time feelings. She came and > went from the breakfast room to the par lor, frequently, evidently with household cares upon her mind. Tea was at length announced. Edward's heart trembled. His mother arose, and with a cold air accompanied her children to the room where t he evening meal await ed them. The table had an attractive look, i new to the eyes of both Edward and hi mother. It was plain that another hand besides the servant's had been there. Ida poured the tea, and Edward served the hot biscuit and cream toast. The eye of the latter was fixed on bus mother,as she lifted, with on air which he understood to say, "Poor -tuff!!" the cup of tea to her lips. She tasted the fragrai t beverage— set the cup down—lifted and tasted again. The infusion was faultless Yes I c leven to her critical taste Next the bis cuit, and next the toast were tried. •i i ; Mrs Goodfellow couid not have surpassed them. 'Have you changed your cook?' Tiie old lad}* looked across the table at Ida. 'No, mother,' answered lua, smiling.— 'Only the cook has found a mistress.' 'ls this all your work, Ida?' 1 lie oiu lady spoke in a half incredulous tone. 'Yes, it is all my work. Don't you think, if 1 try hard, I'll make a housekeeper.?' I This waa so unexpected tliatthe husband's mother was delighted. Ida had goue right home to her matter-of-fact heart. 'Why yes, you precious little darling,' she answered, with an enthusiasm almost foreign to her character, *1 couldn't have done better myself.' I The shadow passed from the heart of i I da, a? her eyes rested on the pleased coun tenance of her husband. It was the flrst shadow that had fallen since their harpy wedding day and moved on quickly; but its memory was left behind. It was like the drawing ot'a veil, which partly conceals. ret beautifies a countenance, revealing the enchanted expression. Ida's husband was a man like the rest, with man's common wants and weaknesses: and her married world one in which hands j must take hold of common duties. But' she soon learned that, in the real world, were real delights, substantial and abid ing. | Bravely did she walk in tlie new patL that lay at her feet, *She had her reward. Tea and toast but expressed her household ( duties, none of which were rightly perform-! Ed daring that delicious hhoueymoou.— But, she tailed in nothing afterward; and soon learned that the grouud in which true happiness takes deepest root, aud from which it springs up with strongest branch -s, is the ground of common home-. ly duties. Mfrtfh Jpstttlatttf. <3 Power of a Won!. I was told a story to-day— a temper ance story. A mother, on the green hills of Vermont, stood at her garden gate, holding bv her right hand a son of six- W . cr teen years, mad with love of the sea. " Edward," said she, " they tell me that the great temptation of a seaman's life is drink. Promise me bafore you quit your mother's baud, that you will never drink." toid he—for he told me the story — "I gave her the promise. I went the , broad go be over —Calcutta, the Alediter- ; raneau, San Francisco, the cape of Good Hope —arm for forty years, whenever I , saw a ginss filed with liquor, my moth- , erfe form by the garden-gate of the hill side of Vermaut rose up before me, ami to-day, at sixty, my lips are innocent oi" the taste of liquor." Was not that sweet evidence of the power of a single word ? Aud yet it was but half ; for said he— "Yesterday there came into my room a young man of forty, aud asked ine"— " Do you knoty me ?" " No," said I. " I was brought once," said he to my informant, "drunk in your presence, on , shipboard; you were a jwisseuger; the captain kicked rao aside; you took sue j <{ FOUR CENTS. TERKS.--$1,25 PER ANNUM into your berth, kept me there till I had slept off the intoxication, and you asked mo if I hod a mother. I said that I never knew one ; I never heard a moth er's voice. You told mc of yours at the garden gate, and to-day, twenty years la ter, T am master of one f the finest pack ets in New York, and I came to ask you to come and see me." How far back that little candle throws its beam—that mother's word on the green hill-side of Vermont! God be thanked for the almighty power of a sin jglc word.— Wetulfilt Phillips. lie* crencc. Where is the reverence of the oldea time? Men with grey hairs, women wtih wrinkled fa -ft-i, and some who have not so far advanced in life, speak of it aa a thing that was, and they mourn that they do ut see it now-a-days. Oucc, Age was respected because it was age, without regard to titles or riches ; the very children in the street paused as the | old man tottered by the n, leaning ou his stick, his long white hair fluttering in the wanton breeze, and his dim eyei lighting up at the sight of their pleasant : smiles. We were visiting lately in a family where were several pretty girls. Beau tifully attired, well educated, literally loaded with accomplishments, for they could sing, dance, play embroider, chat ter French, translate Latin, sing Italian, and withal were very handsome. The ; door opened and in came an old la dy—very old. She looked about her as , she slowly moved forward, not a head | bowed in token of her presence—no ona moved to give her a seat. " Louisa," whispered one, " give grandmother a | chair." " 1 shan't; she might as will stay up stairs," was the ungracious reply. Presently one of them (shamed at our disapproval, for wo immediately arose and conducted the aged woman towards our | own chair) oifered her the seat with rock ers, but she declined it, prefering to take what was given ungrudgingly. During all her stay, these very genteel young la dies noticed her 110 more than as if she was not in the room, except when she made au odd or ungrammatical expres sion, they tittered and ridiculed it ' " i among themselves. 0, it was thouroughly revolting to see this crown of grey hairs despoiled of its glory, mocked by those thoughtless crea ture-. And soon those trembling feet would be treading the verge of the grave, , and the mould crumble auu fall ou the 1 coffin, and they would think of her as the Old Woman whose presence was a uuij anee — a cheek upon thior pleasure—one who was '.ways quoting old-fashioned ; songs or singing them through her nose, who e homely gown, with its crossed handkerchief, was distasteful to their I fashionable eye-, and of whom even the matron would say—"Well real ly, mother was growing so very child ish, I could hardly mourn that she was gone." Thus it is and in this way that m&av of the aged are treated at the present day. II h £ >rruw3j their tsars, their sacrifices, their humble, h vd toils, for children who have grown to manhood, are all for gotten. and those to whom they have given birth are ashamed of them. Al.v! that it -hvuld be so —that while God, the great being to whom we owe all that wc are, treats the gray hairs with rever ence, calling them crowns of glory, we insult tii -i in our conduct toward them uth in public and in private. Let no one who has any regard fer his own char actor, his own purity and integrity, treat the aged with irreverence—they stand very near God. AMLRICAN MULTIPLICATION TABLE. —The terms are simply stated, and tha problem easily solved. Given—a young man of twenty-two, a young woman of eighteen, a log cabin and a quarter-section of land in the "far wett." Product— i'orty years afterwards, boundless possess ions and about two hundred descendants. Read the following statement of fact: Re cently a lady stopped at the Madison House, Covington, Ky., with hor hus band and thirty-two children. She was ab ,ut sixty years of age, but luoked young and hearty. If this can be boat, we are | ready to chrotiicle the fact.