BUSINESS CARDS.
J G. SPANGLER, M. D.,
«-PHYSICIAN & SUBGEO N,—
^frOfflce on Main Street, near Juniata
Bouse.
W. SWOPE,
—JUSTICE OP THE PEACE.-
Л11
business entrusted with him will receive
proper attention. Collection» made and im¬
mediate returns given. Legal writing prompt¬
ly executed.
Office on Main -street.
j a. simpson,
Huntingdon, Pa.
FIBE AND LIFE INSURANCE,
IN SOLID EELIABLE COMPANIES.
^W-Oall at office, or send for circulars.
£ MATTEBN.
PAINTING and PAPEB-HANGING.
Am prepared to do painting, graining, glae-
ing, paper-hanging, etc^ in either town or
' country. Satisfaction guaranteed in every
case. Beeidence on Bailroad street Drop me
' a postal. ^ _
jr P. WILSON,
— DKALEB IN—
■CONNEtL8V4LLE CRUSHED
COKE, & BITUMINOUS, AN¬
THRACITE, & CANNED COAL.
ЯЙУ-
All orders promptly Ailed at the lowest
prices possible.
•£1 p.btubbsT-
' —CARPET WEAVER.—
■and dealer in all kinds of Carpet Chain and
Material».
Prompt attention to business and satisfhc-
tipn guaranteed. Charges reasonable.
ЭД
MATTIE BOBLEY,
-^-DRESSMAKER. —
All kinds of Plain and Fancy Sewing done
at short notice. Aim to please -customers.
,^-Glve me a call.
JAMES E- McCONAHY,
RESTAURANT AND EATING -SALOON,
FRESH FISH AND VEGETABLES.
Main Street,
Opposite Juniata House.
^jEOBGE T. NUMEB,
FASHIONABLE BABBEB
. — AND —
HAIR - DBESSEB.
Shop on .Main Street, opposite B. O’Connor
-A Son s store. t
atls faction guaranteed. Give me a
I*
«Practical
Tin, Sheet-Iron,
A Copper Worker.
ROOFING, SPOUTING, &
— JOB-WORK —
■done in best style, at short notice. Par¬
ties desiring anything in toy line, will
find it to their advantage to patronize
me. All work guaranteed. Located at
W. H. Spangler’s old stand.
BOOnrSHOE
MAKER.
Having secured the serv¬
ices of W. D. Dickson, a
first-class workman, I can
assure patrons that their
work will be done prompt
ly and in a very satisfac¬
tory manner.
Mew Work a Speci¬
alty, and Good Fits
Guaranteed.
Shop on Main Street, near
P.
В.
B. station. Give us
a call,
XL L MX.
Select -Storij. •
THE DEACON’S GIRLS. "
“I never saw any one alter so
much in my life,” Said Gran ’t her
Allen. — “There wasn’t a prettier
girl than Deborah Hale all the
country through, ten years ago,
now look at berl”
Gran’tber Allen was smoking his
pipe out on the porch, where the
morning-glories, trained to strings
made a pretty stenciling of light
and shade on the floor.
His wife, a hearty old woman,
with a complection like a rosy
Spitzenberg apple, hail just come
to the door.
The Allens kept the postofflce,
bnt here in Pumpkintown the mail
coach passed through only twice a
week, and the Thursday letters
were all sorted over and dealt out
to their owners long ago.
On the other side of the Wide-
maple-shaded road stretched the
well-painhed fences and thrifty out¬
buildings of the Hubbard farm,
and it was of Mrs. Elias Hubbard,
the deacon’s second wife, that
Gran’ther Allen spoke.
• “I reckon,” said Mrs. Allen,
“that she has a pretty hard scram¬
ble of it. Deacon Hubbard he don’t
believe
ш
keeping no hired help,
and them three step darters, I sort
o’ reckon they ain’t easy to man¬
age.”
■“Milly ain’t bad-hearted, ’’observ¬
ed Gran’ther Allen.
“No, and no more ain’t Abbey;
and little Esther she loves Mrs.
Hubbard as if she had been her
own mother. Bat the deacon he
squeezes every cent afore he pays
it out. If Deborah was a hired
help, she’d get wages, but I guess
she don’t see the color of much
money as things is now.”
While the old postmaster and
his wife were thus discussing the
private affairs of the handsome,
white-painted farm-house opposite,
the dwellers therein were greatly
rejoicing over a certain piec» of
luck which had befallen them, in
the shape of % bequest from a cer¬
tain ancient grand uncle, who
seemed to have overlooked the
necessity for dying until now.
He had left fifty dollars each to
Millicent, Abigail and Esther Hub¬
bard and each was discussing how
she should spend this financial
windfall.
“Better put it in the savings bank
gals,” said Deacon Hubbard, sage¬
ly-
“Bet it was left to us to spend
as we pleased, lather,” pleaded Ab¬
igail, a handsome, red-cheeked girl,
with very black hair, and eyes of
the shallow, glittering ebon of a
glass bead. “I should so like a
crimson cashmere gown.”
“No, Abby, no,” said Millicent,
whose style of beaty was decidedly
that of Titian’s Fornarina “A
gown indeed, to be worn out and
done with! Now is the chance, if
ever, for a piano.”
“A— pianol” Abbey uttered
the words with a gasp. “But fifty
dollars wouldn’t buy a piano.”
“A hundred and fifty would go
far toward it on the installment
plan, and out of the egg and but¬
ter and strawberry money we could
easily manage the rest;” explained
Millicent.
The Deacon stroked his chin
thoughtfully. In his estimation
a piano was the most frivolous of
all th!ngs, yet there was something
in Milly ’s business like way of put¬
ting the question that gratified his
paternal instincts.
“The girt knows what she’s
talking about,” he said to himitelf.”
“Oh, Milly, wouldn’t that be
splendid!” ecstatically cried out
Abbey, dancing np and drtwn.
“Where would you buy it-* at
Downes’ store!”
“No, I’d send direct to Bridge¬
port,” said Millicentj” who was evi¬
dently the master spirit of the two.
‘•Ddwnes’ would have 4ess variety
and ‘he’d charge more into the bar¬
gain. I will write to-ftight if yon
think 'best, Abbey.”
“But what does Esther say!”
“Esther will do just as we do, of
course.”
Esther Hubbard, the yonngest
and quietest of the three, was busy
in paring apples for a certain favor¬
ite padding of the deacon’s.
Her eyes were cast down, her
cheeks flushed.
“No,” she said, in a low voice, “I
can’t join in the piano project, girls.
— I’m very sorry, bnt — I’ve spent
say money.”
Deacoh Hubbard dropped his
newspaper, and stared over the top
of his spectacle glasses.
“Already!” cried Abbey.
“But that’s nonsense!” said Milly-
‘You couldn’t, you know. You,
haven’t been anywhere.”
At this moment there was a
mysterious bumping sound on tbe
doorstep— a knock — the entrance
of a gleaming piece of furniture,
accompanied by two stout men
“I’ve bought a sewing machine
for mother,” said Esther, springing
up so suddenly that the apples,
pared and unpared, rolled all over
the floor. “And here it is! Seth
Bollock, down at the store, is the
agent. I’ve seen mother sit up and
sew weary seams by hand, night
after night, for so many years, af¬
ter a hard day’s work in the kitch¬
en and wash-house, that I made up
my mind she wouldn’t endure it
any longer; so I put Uncle Ebenez-
er’s money into a sewing machiue
— a present to you, mother dear!”
Little Mrs. Hubbard burst into
tears.
“Essie, my darlingl But I can’t
let you sc orifice everything to me
in this way.
“Whom else shonld I sacrifice
to, mother!” whispered Esther.
Who is my best friend aad dearest
counselor! Whom do I love best in
all the world!”
Thd deacon’s face gloomed,
“I never did believe in teaching
my woman folks idleness,” snarled
he. — “Hand sewin’ was good
enough for my first wife. I guess
it wouldn’t have hurt Debby much.
And if Esther was anxious to get
rid of her money, I could have
used half on’t to buy a new oxcart!”
“But you have so many things,
father,” pleaded Esther. “All
your work, mostly, is done by
machinery, and mother has to toil
so endlessly.”
“Humph!” commented the dea¬
con.
Millicent frowned; Abigail shrug¬
ged her shoulders,
Evidently, no one was in accord
with poor little overworked Mrs.
Hubbard, but Estber.
“I’m very sorry,” said Esther,
“that I havn't enough to help you
with the pibno, tod. I do so love
music. I always longed for au in¬
strument.”
“Oh!” said Abby, with a toes of
ber black braids. “We shall have
the piano all the same; so yoaileqd-
n’t be afraid. It will only take us
the longer to paly for it. One tiling
is very certain^— yon shall ifever
strike a ndte on it.
Mrs. Hubbard followed Esther
ont into tbe kitchen.
"“Oh, Essie,” said she, “yon
should’nt have thought of me.
The girls are seriously angry.”
“I ctm’t help that,” said Esther.
“If they had any eyes, they would
have seen, long ago, that this hor¬
rible sewing, in addrtfton with every¬
thing else, was killing you!”
“But don’t mind their refusing
to let yon share the piano, Essie,”
whispered the stepmother. “Mrs.
Pritchett has one at the parsonage,
and I need to «play when I was a
girl. We’ll go down every day or
two, ted I will teach you. Abby
and Milly laugh at Mrs. Pritchett’s
old-fasMoned piano; but there’s is
a deal of music in it yet!”
“I dew declare,” said Gran’ther
Allen, as the maple leaves began to
carpet the paths with scarlet, and
even to scatter ruby jewels here
and there in the road. “Deacon
Hfibbard’s wife Is pfekin up A deal I
I never saw her step so light afore,
and she actually sings at work — a
tbiug she never did before!”
It’s the sewin’ machine,” said
his old wife “I took a seam over
yes’day afternoon, and it just made
game o’ play outeo the bull thing.”
So that, when Mrs. JudgfeBeeset
gave her May party the next spribg,
and invited Mrs. Hubbard, the in¬
vitation was accepted.
“I feel ever so much younger
since that sewing machine caifie,”
said she.
Mrs. Besset had a grand piano,
and a pianist who came from
Bridgeport at so much a night; but
when the company arrived, lo and
behold! the professor had not put in
an appearance.
“Dear me,” said Mrs. Besset,
“what am I to do! Won’t any of
the young ladies present oblige me
with a Waltz, just to get the dan¬
cers on the floor!”
“The young ladies present” gig¬
gled, looked at each other, but
made no move.
Deacon Hubbard leaned across
the intervening matrons and spoke
to Millicent.
“Daughter,” said he, “you can
play!”
Millicent grew pAle.
•‘I couldn’t strike a note, pa,”
said she. “I’m too nervous.”
“Abigail, then!”
“Oh, please don’t ask mel 1
should only break down!” twittered
Abby, shrinking back.
Toe deacou frowned.
But in the midst of his wrath a
light step passed him. Esther, in
her simple white serge dress and
blue ribbons went up to the piano,
and quietly seating herself began
to play that wild, sweet creation
where joy and sorrow seem to
strive in the most musical of refrains
—“My Queen.”
Every chord in the famous grand
piano rang out. The dancers sprang
tb the floor.
Esther went ofi playing, as if her
fingers were instinct with musical
magnetism.
The deacon rubbed his specta¬
cles; his hard features worked.
“X declare,” said he, turning to
his wife, “that is music! I dunno
whether to langh or cry. And is
that really our Esther! How did
she ever learn to play like that!
And the other girls keeping their
piano tight-locked, too, all the
time.”
“I have been giving her lessons
all the winter
он
Mrs. Pritchett’s
piano at the parsonage,” said Mr».
Hubbard, her eyes lighting up wit),
love and 'pride. “And I think-
dear little Essie — she does ine cred¬
it.”
“Well, 1 swanl” said Deacon
Hubbard. “I am proud of her—
yes, I ami There ain’t no use de-
uyin’ it. And what’s she playin’
‘how— a quadrille! I declare, it
sounds jnst like the old cdfcntry
dances they had when I was a
boy.
I’d like to go down the middle
myself, if only some of the -old
friends 'could staud np with
шб
again;” and the deacon surrepti¬
tiously wiped his eyes. ‘“I must
get Essfeto play that old tune some
ime when we’re alone,” said he.
The professional attired soon,
full of excuses for her delay, and
Esther was relieved, with the cor¬
dial thanks of her hostess.
“I didn’t fcfibw you were sfleh ah
artist!” shid MTs. Basset.
And the two other Misses Hub¬
bard were ready to eat each other
up with envy aud chagrin*
“Now I tell you what, girls,” said
Deacota Hubbard, when at last they
reached home, “do you just unlock
that piano, and give your lister a
fair chance at it, or I’ll turn you and
it both Out of the house. She can
play better than either of you, and
I mean she shan’t be treated worse
‘than a pirate any longer.”
“Oh, of course, as she really does
play!” tartly remarked Milly.
“But how were we to know it,”
said Abby.
“I guess you know it,” said the
deacou. “I was up and down proud
of Esther to-night. Come here and
kiss me, my girll There’s a flute
somewhere up in the garret, and I
mean to screw the pieces together,
and see if 1 can’t remember some
of the good old tnnCs we used to
like when I was a boy. P’raps we
can have s6me duetts. And mother
shall pllay, too,” with a kindly
glance ftt his pale little secondwife,
“if ever she gets time to nlAy- any¬
thing else than theeverlastiu’ click
o’ that sewing machine.”
Prom that day thare was a
change in the social atmosphere of
the Hubbard farmhouse. Milly
and Abby, so long the ruling el©,
hrents, fell into the back ground.
Esther and her step-mother became
the queen and princess royal.
‘‘And,” said Esther, “father is
so kind, and home iqso homelike
• — and it is all owing to the money
Uncle Ebeuezer left us.”
“No,” sfcid Mrs. Hubbard.qoietly,
“it is all owing to Esther’s Sweet
nature anti generous heart.”
. . . . ... -
—Huntingdon Cottnty Pomona
Grange, No, 6, P. of H.»' of Pennsylva¬
nia, Will meet in the hall of Trough
Creek Grange, Noi 144, on Thursday
and Friday-, May 23 and 24, .1889, as
follows: Thursday at 7 p. m. a public
meeting to which all are cordially invit¬
ed. On Friday at 9 A. m. a private ses¬
sion will be held to which all members
of the order are teepefctfiiliy invited;
As we have important business it is
hophd that there will be a good turn
out. The public meeting will be ad¬
dressed by prominent members in the
county. Come one, come all, end help
this good work along.
The common needle threader, which
every one has seen for sale, and which
every woman owns, was a boon to nee¬
dle users. The man who invented it
h?s an income of $ 10,000 a year from
his" invention.
t
1 1 DtiJir n ■ ar*, 1 - m ~r
