Newspaper Page Text
'IJUWi"l'1 ' of-
-7
,-v S
Kansas
flLmnr
SOL. MILLER, EDITOR AKD PUBLISHER.
VOLUME XVI.-NUMBER 24.1
(Mtt flrftg.
GOD IS LOVE.
BTJOIPT CWHITTIEB.
ynf fathom tli Eternal Thought !
Yho tall nf Mchrm and plan I
Th Lord i Owl ? He nredeth not
Tb poor device of man.
I walk with bar hniihed feet the ground
Ye tread with boldneaa shod;
I dare not fix with met and bound
The lore and power of God.
Y praiae hU jtmUce; even such
Hi pitjinc 1ot I deem 1
Y H-elc a kins; I fain would tonch
The robe that hath no aeam.
Ye aeek the enrae that orerbrooda
A world of pain and 1am t
1 bear onr Lord a beattitndea
Aud prajer upon the croaa.
More than roar nchoolmen teach, within
Myself, alaa, I know ;
T dark ye cannot paint the ain.
Too amall the merit ahow.
I bow wy forehead to the doit,
I veil my eyes fur ahame.
And orce. in trembling aell-diatrnat,
A prayer without a claim.
I e the wronr that mund roe lira,
I frel the guilt within;
I hear, with groana and trarall-criea.
The world confess its ain.
Yt in the maddening maze of things.
And toaned by etorm and finml,
T one filed star my spirit clings;
I know that God la good!
Jtot mine to look when rlierublm
And seraphs may not (?.
lint nothing ran be good In him
Which evil U in me.
Tlte wrong that pains my aoul btlow
I dare not throne above :
I know not of his base I know
His goodness and bis love.
I dimly gnesa from bleafilngs known.
Of greater out of sight.
And with the chastened Fsalmlatown
Ills judgment, too, are right.
I long for household Toices gone.
For vanished smiles I long.
Hut God hath led my dear onea on.
And he can do no wrong.
I know not what the future bath
Of marvel or surprise;
Assured alone that life and death
Hi niercy underlies.
And If my heart and fleb are weak
To bear an untried lain.
The brained reed he will not break.
Hut strengthen and sustain.
Xo offering of my own I have,
or works mr faith to prove ;
I can but give flie love he gave.
Ami plead his Ioe for love.
And so beside the silent sea
I wait the mufilod usr;
3i" harm from him can come to me
Ou ocean or on shore.
I know not where his islands lift
Thnr fronted palms hi air;
I only know I cannot drift
I5-3 ond hi love and care.
Obnithers! If my faith is vain.
If hos like these 1m-tray,
l'rsy fur me that my feet nay gain
The sure and safer -way.
And thou, O Lord! bv whom are set n.
Tli) creatures as they be.
Forgive tut if too closs I lean
Myhun.w heart on thee!
Select j'forjj.
THE HOLLOW OAK.
A STORY OF BACKWOODS LIFE.
Deep in tlic heart of the forest, licit far reuiov.
d from tlio right lunk uf the Mississippi, Simon
Grant built his cabin, ami net to work clearing
the land that immediately surrounded it. His
lamily cousisted beside. himself, of a wife ami
two small children, both the latter being under
lour rars of age.
Nut another white person nag there within the
radius of at least two miles; but the forest was
thronged with suv ages aud wild boasts; the lat
lir were no more treacherous thau tint red-skins,
or nude more savage warfjre against the settlers.
1h pioneer uikiii thu rivur said that billion
Grant wan beside himself thus to penetrate alone
so deeply into the forest where he would get no
support from hit friends in case of danger, but bo
stoutly declared that liu was as safe as any of
them, and his chance as good for sheering tlear
of danger.
And mi for a year ho had lived in hit littlo
world by himself, and no harm had come to them,
despite the prophecies that had so often been
nude.
Little by littlo the clearing about the cabin
enlarged its lioruVrs, beneath the sturdy strokes
of his axe, and fields of waving corn and wheat
took the pl,ue of the forest trees, and hid the
Llatkeiied and unsightly stumps from the gaze.
One tree mdv, hail been spared in the whole
t baring, and that stood some dozen reds from
the cabin.
It was a huge widc-spnading oak, with a great
gnarled trunk that looked half as large as the
settler's cjbin.
II branches extended far and wide, shadowing
Hindi of the neighboring ground, aud not a few
lliire were who had come to the tleariii" but
what asked him why it wax that he had spared
the tree, winch shaded ho much of the Krtile
gmiiut around it.
To to this observ ation he w ould reply that it
was .1 notiou of bis, that the tree was grand
looking, and that it would seem a shame to cut
it down.
And, lieiide, its trunk was so large that it
would be no easy task to accomplish it.
Theso might Lave oeeu plausible reasons, but
the uue he did not give, that he wished to keep a
secret to himself and family, for fear that in
some way it might get to the ears of those from
w liom he desired to keep it.
The real cause why the tree had been spared
was that it was hollow.
In its very heart there was a largo cavity in
which the settler aud his family could with ease
Ik'Iow themselves away, should danger threat
en them, or the occasion demand.
This was his castle of refuge, and here he had
made all preparations which lay in his power for
a surcesstiil defense should he be attacked in his
stronghold.
The entrance to this cavity was so very small
that he had to enlarge it somewhat to force his
Ih1v through, aud once inside there was consid
erable to be done iu retuoviug the rotten wood
that clung to its aides, and the debris that had
fallen to the bottom.
Many odd honrs he had worked here, till all
was arranged to his mind.
A piece of bark was made to serve for a door,
and so nicely was this joined to that on the old
trunk, that a casual glance would not have re
1 train! it.
llv diut of patience he had constructed a coup
le of loop-holes through the side, so that he
could oWrve what waa passing without, and
thrust the muzzle of his rifle into them should
the occasion demand.
Here, too, at all times, he kept a small quanti
ty of provisions, enough to stand a short, siege
from the redskins.
To this stmnirhold it was his intention to retire
in case of danger, should he have warning iu
time to leave the cabin.
He thought that they would stand a better
ahance for their lives in the heart of the oak
thau in the cabin, aud in this he w as correct, as
." vuts soon show ed.
Late one afternoon he was at work felling
trees, upon the ontskirts of bis clearing, at a spot
the farthest removed from his cabiu that he
could be and still have it in sight.
The sun was well-nigh down, and in a little
more it would have touched and disappeared be
hind the tree-tops.
He was cutting into the side of one of the for
est plants, and he meant if possible to seud it to
the ground before the sunlight waa gone.
The sound of the sturdy blows of his axe re
sounded throughout the clearing, making music
for his ears and those so dear to him in the cabin.
Closer and closer grew the snn to the tree tops,
and slowly but surely his axe cat iu way to the
heart of the tree, there to meet the notch he had
cut upon the other side.
Only littlo of the solid wood now remained,
and already the tree began to tremble, a though
conscious of the doom that awaited it. A few
moments more, and just as the sun went down,
it gave a groan that seemed wrung from its very
heart, and then tottered aud went crashing to
the ground.
With feelings of satisfaction that his task for
the day was ended, the vettler stood leaning up
on bis axe, contemplating the work his hands
nau wrougni.
At that moment the sharp report of a rifle
rang out upon the still evening air, and a bullet
whistled so closo past his head that he involun
tarily raised his hand as if to see that it had done
him no harm.
A white smoke curled np amid the trees it. the
edge of the forest, showing the spot where the
would-lie assassin had stood, and fruin the near
ness of the range, 6imon Grant woudercd that he
had escaped with his life.
That one or more red skins were lurking about
to take his life ho had no doubt; and he felt that
the safest place for him was with his family.
Giving one more hasty glance into the forest,
now fast filling with the shades of coming night,
he started for the cabin, iu the door of which he
could perceive his wifo and children, brought
thither in alarm by the sound of the firing.
The distance was some forty roils, bnt the set
tler was not long iu passing over it, and gaining
his own doorway, where he was accosted by his
wife w ith a face almost as palo as death.
"Simon, arc yon hnrtt" she cried with appre
hension, as stood aside that he might enter.
"No, Mary. If I were I could hardly make so
good time as I have done, coming from the forest.
Hut I came within one of getting bullet through
my head. It came so close to my thick that I
could feel it when it went by.""
The cheek of the settler's" wife again blanched.
"They must hate meant to take your life," she
said.
"Yet," be answered, "and" I fear they will not
give up now. We will have trouble w ith them
to-night."
"What makes you think so, Simon J"
"Because they have been hanging round the
settlement for a numlrcr of davs, and they won't
leave until they have committed some outrage.
This morning 1 sawtwoof them gliding along
past iu the edge of the woods, aud I was afraid
they meant ns harm. If the)- hail nut they would
have come ojwnly here, as they have been wont
to do iu times past."
"What shall we do, Simon f "
"Wo will wait here quietly until it is dark,
and then take up our lodgings in the oak. Wo
can be comfortable there during the night, at
any rate; and if harm is intended ns we shall
stand a better chance for our lives, than wu
should in the cabiu."
"Yes, that is the best way, I think, Simon, but
are j on sure they know nothing of onr biding
placet"
"I know-that there are none save ourselves
that know of it," he answered cniitidantly. j
Thev now entered the cabin. clusin" tho door
after them, and proceeded to make the little '
preparation winch was necussary to taku up
their lodgings elsewhere. Once or twice, with
his rifle iu his hand, Simon went to the door and
cautiously opened it, and looked abroad over the
clearing, and the lost time he felt sure that ho
saw .1 savage skulking about behind the stumps,
half hidden by the thak shadows that were gath
ering around.
At last tho uiuht was well down, and the time
had come for them to change their quarters. I
Once more the door was micncd, and the set-
tier with his rifle in one hand, and holding that I
of his eldest child with the other, iiassed through, I
while his wife with the jomigeat in her arms I
came close after. Then the door was carefully j
t.i''vuaiMiu irtsicui-u ucuiuu ineio, uiiti niiu Hur
ried steps they passed ou to the Hollow Oak.
Ouch arriving lieneatli its wide-spreading
branches they were lint long in esconsing them
selves within the cavity which had been formed
by nature, and fashioned by art. Everything
was arranged to make them as comfortable ns
possible through the night, and then thuy vvnittd
to see what the hours might bring forth.
They thought that they had made their exit
from the cabiu without being seen, but thu eves
uf tho wily savages were upon tln.ni, and one
lurking in their rear had seen them tome forth,
and bad followed them till they had disappeared
beneath the branches of the oak. Then he wait
ed several minutes to nee them euiergn upon the
other side, hut in this ho was disapoiuted, and
so heat last made up his mind that they had
hidden there, fearful uf an attack by his breth
ren. To make sure of their whereabouts he began
cautiously to approach the tree, and at last the
settler, with his car to one of the loop-hole bo
had uiade, caught the sound of his stealthy foot
steps. Quickly hise.ve was applied to tho aparture,
and in a moment it rested ujKin the dusky out
lines of tho savage. A moment's scrutiny con
vinced him that the savage hail watched their
movements and knew that they were secretnl
somewhere alrout the tree. To put him out of
the way so that lie might nut communicate to the
othtrs'what h knew, should they lie lnrkiug
almut, seemed the best course for him to pursue,
and quickly raising his riflo ho thrust the muz
zle into the'anarture. and taking iiuiik aim upon
tho savage, fired. I
Tho sharp report in so close quarters seemed i
to stun them all, while the Ilame ami smoke that
Hashed from the pan of the rifle almost stilled I
them. The children began to cry; aud it was all
that Mrs. Grant could tin to hn.sli them so that -they
might not be heard outside of their hiding
place, while her husband proceeded to relode his
rifle, to 1m in readiness for another savage should ,
he present himself.
This done, he again applied his eye to the loop-
hole and saw that his aim had been a true one;
and the savage had fallen iu his tracks, aud lay
outstretched upon the earth.
At that momenta fierce warwhoAn rang out
upon tho still evening air, aud as if by magic a
half dozen savages sprang np about the tree, and
the next moment a shower of bullets went crnsh
in" thronch the branches above their heads.
Evidently the savages thought that the settler i
and his family had taken re In go there.
"Heaven protect n!" cried Mrs. Grant in a
frightened tone. "They have discovered our
hiding place." I
"No," said the settler. "It is uot hardly so
bad aa that. They think we are somewhere,
about the tree, up in the branches, where their
bullets can reach us, bnt in this they are mistak
en. Let them tire at random as much as they
will. Their bullets cannot pierce the side of the
oak, and as yet we are safe."
Another yell of savage rage at this moment sa
luted their ears. The rod-skins fonnd that their
bullets fired at random done them no good, and
they evinced their disappointnieut.
One of their number at this moment presented
himself within range, and the settler could not I
resist the temptation of bringing him down, and
having one less to contend w ith. So, quick as ,
thought, be took aim npou him and fired; and a I
shout of rage from the throats of the sav ages told
him that his shot had done its work. I
The next moment a shower of bullets araiu
cnt through the foliage of the oak, but those be
neath who heard their singing as they went by,
were unharmed.
"Courage!" exclaimed Simon, in alow tone.
"So louir as thevdo not find the entrance tu tlii.
place, we have nothing to fear ; and for them to j
do so in the dark is next to impossible. If thev I
will only come witbm range, I will have them all
np out here in less than half an hour."
And thus the battle went on. With her chil
dren clasiied in her arms, Mrs. Grant sat up
against xne sine 01 me oait, wnne ner nusuantl
worked for their salvation. One after another
went down nnder his rifle, until not less than six '
lay heaped upon the earth within a short dis
tance of the tree. I
There was another of the party, for the settler j
had keen seven iu all; bat he did not show him- '
self; alarmed at the fate f the rest, he had taken
hinuelf off that he might uot be made to share it.
Our friends were no more disturbed through
the night. When the sun had risen in the morn
ing, Simon emerged from his castle, and found
only tho dead savages near him, and so he at
ouce conducted his family back to the cabin,
which he found untouched.
That day be dug a deep pit in the earth, at the
spot w here the savages bad fallen, and, buried
them there. The secret of the oak was still pre
served, and be tenanted it many nfgtts after
wards. ""'
THE
gisrcUaim
A WO.WS WAY,
Does It do say prad to cry
'When some utile earrleeo word
Hakee roar heart crow heavy and beat
IU hero like a pruoned bird I
Does It do any cood to cry
If nobody lores yon at an.
And nobody xnowo how faithfully
You hare elrea your life your all !
Does It do any cood to cry
When you elt down mlone
And think of all they Mid and did
The callers who now are gono f
As cloads pert after rain.
So this la a women's way
Of sukiiis Uf htar the heavy heart
And brighter the shady day.
After the ahower of tears
The tender light will dawn
Of a ewewt content that can live onloved-
And toil to the end unknown.
' What, now, do I care
Whether tbey pniae or blame 1
Whether they fire me a croaa to bear
Or the laurel wreath of fame I
AlfBCBOTBS OF PUBLIC SIE.Sf.
BT COL. J. W. FORNEY.
An attack npou the policy of the Mexican war
and the annexation of Texas always disposes me
to direct attention to the results ol conquest or
purchase of California mid tho opeuiug of our
way to tho l'acilic ou the the thirty-second par
allel. When Kobert J. Walker, who was perhaps
the most active engineer of the annexation
scheme, wrote his celebrated letter iu its favor,
be pleaded with prophetic keu for its effect on
the whole country. The future vindicated his
views, and gave him an opportunity to resist on a
broader field and with resplendent disinterested
ness, the efforts of the diauiiionists to use tlieir
new advantages for the overthrow of the govern
ment. The slaveholders gave quick aud earnest
support to the Tcxau -programme, and they seut
tbtir liest material into tho war against Mexico;
but they soon discovered that freedom could
spread as well as slavery, aud that tho more it
was distributed the stronger it was. They met a
fearful fall when they tried to divide California
iu 10, so as to reserve half of it for the peculiar
institution; and they were stillmoredisapointed
to hen California refused to follow them in their
ajKiliation of Kansas in lt5-&C 57, nuil later still,
iu 18C1-G2, when the Pacific States, set apart as
an outljing fortress of slavery, became one of the
chief bulwarks uf tho Union.
But I did not sit down to write politics, or to
rl-.nvv how Prevldcuce overthrows the best-laid
plans of ambitions men, but to restore to the
uicui"ry of my readers some of those w ho figured
in the early days of California. Theso weru'all
in the prime of life, most of them young, and all
of them seeking their fortunes. Tbey came from
various sections. Young Fremont, when in his
twenty-seventh J ear, explored the South Pass,
afterwards penetrated to thu Rocky Mountains
and the Great Salt Lakes, and still later unfolded
Alta California, the Sierra Nevada, the-vallejs of
the San Joaquin aud the Sacramento, and was
the first United States Senator after the war and
the ratification of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hi
dalgo. This was in 1820, when he was 36 years
old. I n member him well his quiet manners
and his youthful figure. His colleague, Dr. Wil
liam M.Gwiu, of Mississippi, who had grown to
lie a veteran iu the bitter conflicts uf the South,
where he had htld anv number of nlaces. emi
grated to California, like the rest, to better his
tunditiou, and was made a Senator in Congress
in ItCO for six years. He was tlieu just -15, full
of vigor, resources, busy, contriving, and reso
lute, nt over scrupulous, liberal, dashing, gener
ous and full of Southern partialities. Tlieir house
w as as hospitable as plenty of money ami pleasant
people could make it. Georgo II. Wright was
then a Representative in the House in 1850-54.
Ho is now a resident of Washington, and a sound
Republican. Iu 1652, Milton S. Latham came to
Wnsliiugtnn as a Representative, from California.
He waajust tweuty-tivo when he took his seat
a handsome boy, who, after a short career iu Ala
bama, had emigrated in his twentv -third vear to
tho Golden State. He was modest and graceful,
made a good sophomore speech, was never vio
lent, and soon conciliated great favor. Few men
have enjoyed more of the world's smiles aud fa
vors, and few men deserved them more than this
young man. He was Clerk of the Recorder's
Court of San Francisco iu 1850, District Attorney
in Iddl, Representative in Congress in 1852, aud
declined a re-election in 1855; elected Governor
of California in 1800, and three days after his in
auguration was chosen a Senator iu Congress for
six years. He was always moderato iu his poli
tics, though a Democrat; like Douglas and
Ilretkinridge ; was a close friend of Andy John
sou, and never "fell out," I believe, with Hotspur
Wigfall or dogmatic Toombs. He was even aud
geuial to all; had no angular points, and made
money with the case of a fortune's favorite. He
is now living at San Francisco,ea millionaire at
forty-live, hav ing had an experience of a quarter
of a century unusual iu any man's history, with
perhaps as many years liefore him in which to in
crease and enjo.v his large possessions. Of a
widely different typo was K. C. Marshall, who
went fourth from Keututky about the same time,
and sat ill the House with Latham as his col
league. He was a genius; impetuous, blind,
rockless; a true scion of a gifted and execentric
race. Some uf his speeches were gems ; but ho
had no system, and wasted his gifts lavishly,
while the more prudent Latham carefully gar
nered and added to his. Then came the big
braiued James A. McDougall, born in New York,
thence removing to Illinois, aud in 1850 settling
down in California, where, after other service, he
was chosen to succeed Latham iu the House.
What a handsome fellow he was in 1853, iu his
thirty-seventh J ear, and how he flamed in ilo
beate! He ought to be living to-day, aud w ould
be if he had lieeu a little less eelhsh. John II.
Welter, of Ohio, transplanted, himself to Cali
fornia iu the exodus of 1850, succeeded Fremont
in the Senate iu 1851, aud was afterwards Gov
ernor of the State. He is, I believe, still living
in California. Thomas S. Henley, nf Indiana, be
longed to the same emigration. He made the
longest and best stump speeches I overheard,
and could bold a crowd together for four hours at
a stretch. Vrodcrick, "the noblest Roman uf
them all," was, I think, in the mines as early as
1849. He flnl from New York and its degrada
tions and dng for a living in the gulches; bnt
he was soon called forth'to lead in the formation
of the Constitution of the new State, and to sit in
aud preside over the State Senate. Chosen a
Senator in Congress in 1856, and refusing to san
ction the treachery of Buchanan on the Kansas
qnestiun, be was killed iu a duel by a Southern
secessionist in September of 1859. John Connesa,
one of the disciples of Uroderick, was one of tho
first emigrants to California, and served in vari
ous public positions till he was chosen a Senator
in Congress in 1863.
The geld discovery following directly after the
conqnest of California, stimnlated the rnsh from
old States North and Sonth. That revelation
made the ancient Spanish settlement the seat of
a new American empire. ItseeinedaProvidential
seqnelto a great international event; and yon
will note how the men I have named were melded
and mastered in the developments of the times.
Every one of them left homo a pro-slavery Dem
ocrat, with the exception of Gen. Fremont; and
they were either forced into sympathy with the
rebellion, and with Its collapse closed their po
litical career, or took bold ground against the re
bellion, and so live in the gratitude of posterity.
iaiuoruia is no longer an outpost oi slavery or
Democracy. New men have succeeded the pio
neers man lik Cole Sinrent and Lowe. Tho
bad influence that ruled tho State has passed i
away. The old slow ocean passage has yielded '
to the genius of the rail. Continents make
treaties by telegraph and interchange commodi
ties by steam. Distant nations are made neigh-
bora, and thoughts that could only be spoken or
written for a few, twenty years ago, flyln an in
stant mt.i millions of minds in the 'remotest re-
pons. The ideas of Uroderick, and -Baker, and
and JJeller, and leaven the whole mass of dog- '
mas that came an nr !.: r . 6
""" er ns a counuy,
Private Uncerity Vpubli'c Welfare,
CONSTITUTION AND THE UNION.
TROY, KANSAS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1872.
EDITOR BBEAJinO WEDBI.tO
CAKE.
A bachelor editor out West, who bad received
from the fair band of a bride a pieceiof elegant
wedding cake, to dream on, thus gives the result
of experience:
We put it under the bead of our pillow, shnt
our ejes sweetly as an infant, blessed with an
easy conscience, soon snored prodigiously. The
god of dreams gently touched us, and lo! in fancy
we were married! 'Never was a little editor so
happy. It was 'my love," dearest,' 'sweetest,'
ringing in our ears every moment. Oh! that
the dream had broken off here. But no, some
evil genius put it into the head of onr ducky to
nave puuuing lor dinner, just to please her lord.
In a hungry dream we sat down to dinner.
Well, the pudding moment arrived, and a hnge
slice klmost obscured from sight the plate before
ns.
"My dear," said we foutUy, "did you make
this."
"Yes, love ain't it nice."
"Glorious the best bread pndding I ever tas
ted iu my life."
"Plum pndding, ducky," snggested my wife.
" O, no, dearest, bread pudding, I always was
fund of 'em."
"Call that bread pnddingr exclaimed my
.-, mjira Mps siigntiy curicu wnn con
tempt. 'Husband tliis is really to bad plum pudding
is tw ice as hard to make as bread pudding, aud
is mure expensive, and is a great deal better. 1
say this is plum pudding, sir V and my pretty
wife's brow flushed With excitement.
"My love, my sweet, my dear love," exclaimed
we, soothingly, "do uot get angry, I'm sure it's
very good, it iti bread pudding."
"You mean, low wretch," liercly replied mv
wne iu a higher tone, " jou know its plum pud
ding." "Then ma'am, it is so meanly put together,
and so badly burned, that tho devil himself
wouldn't know-it. I tell jou madam, most dis
tinctly and emphatically, and I will not be con
tradicted that it is bread pudding, aud the mea
nest kind at that."
"It is plum pudding," shrieked my wife, as
she burinl a glass of claret in my face, tho glass
itself tapping tho claret from my uose."
"Bread pudding!" grasped we, plutk to tho
last, aud grasping a roasted chicken by the left
leg.
"Plum pudding!" rose above the din, as I had
a distinct perception of feeling two plates smash
across my head.
"Bread pudding!" we groaned in a rage as
the chicken left our hand, and flying with swift
wing across tho table, lauded iu madam's bos
om. "Plum pudding!" resounded the war cry from
the enemy, as the gravy dish took ns where wo
had been debiting the first part ef our dinner,
aud a plate of beets landed upon onr white vest.
"Bread pudding forever!" shouted we in de
fiance, dodging tho soup tureen, aud falling be
neath its contents.
"Plum pudding!" yelled tho amiable spouso as
noticing our misfortune, she determined to keep
us down by piling upon our head the dishes with
no gentle hand. Then in rapid succession fol-
nmeu tne war cries, l'luni pudding: sou akricks
with every dish:
"Bread pudding!" iu smothered tones, came up
from the pile iu reply. Then it was 'plum pud
ding' in rapid sutcevion, the last growing fee
bler, till just as I cau distinctly recollect it had
grown to a whisper. "Plum pudding P resoun
ded like thunder, followed by a tremendous
crash, as my wife-leaped upon the pile with her
delicatu feet, aud commenced jumping up and
down when, thank Heaven, we awoke, aud thus
sav ed our life. We shall never dream on wed
ding cako again that's the moral.
iai 0
Barbarity One ef I he Haprrolilieme of the Pe
riod. Tho Troy (N. Y.) ' says:
Last evening Coroner McKeuua coucluded the
inquest upon tho body of the woman Mrs. Ann
Smith whoso death from exposure occurred last
Wednesday night. About eight months ago, Mr.
Smith, her husband, was to see her, then Mrs.
Chamberlain, a widow. She was Smith's fifth wife.
Mrs. Smith the fifth was a tlairvoyaut, and,
while iu a trance, dreamed that a quantity of
money was hid in a certain place iu Vermont,
and that if her husband would deposit $1U0 iu a
certain chapter uf his Bible at homo aud go to
Vermont ou a certain day, he would, by digging
ill a certain spot destribtd by hi r, hud the mon
ey. It is supposed that Smith went, failed to get
the money, aud. returned disappointed. Upon
his return Mrs. Smith again went into a trance
aud this time discovered that her husband bad
one on the wrong day, and she told him that by
epositing $70 in auuther Bible he would surely
get the money. Again, as the story goes, Smith
was disappointed. Ou his return he found the
money had been taken from the Bible, and his
wife, going into another trance, said that a man
named Charles Balicock had taken the money.
At the inquest Babcock was sworn, and stated
that he knew nothing of the money.
A week ago Tuesday Mrs. Smith went to the
house of auuther clairvoyant, na North Fourth
street, aud remained there until the eveniug,
when she went away ostensibly for the purpose
of going home. She returned, however, about
an hour afterward, chilled through aud sick, and
dml on Wenesday. When Smith was informed
of the death of his wife, lie stated that lie would
have nnthiiigmore to do with her; that he would
not pay a penny for her burial, and that the
Count) should have to liear the expense. The
jury decided she died from congestion of the
brain.
The San Francisco W says: "Shortly after
Bret Harte arrived iu California he called upon
a lady whose acquaintance he had foriutsl ou the
steamer, aud uimiii being usked the usual ques
tion, "How are Jou pleased with California !"re
plied: "I am disgusted. I never was so dis
appointed in all my life. Why, would jou be
lieve it, 1 have been forced to drive a laundry
wagon to keep n) self from starving; and should
not have found your residence had I not called
next door to takeaway dirty clothes, and seen
jour Iki.v in the yard." It is certainly a noble
trait in the character of Bret Harte that hepre
ferrrd to stoop to any honorable means to gain
his liv ing rather than run in debt or be a tax on
his friends. He waa as much a gentleman then,
carrv ing dirty clothes, as be is now, the boon
companion of tbe first geniuses of the land. He
at that time won a host of friends by his uni
formly kind care of his sister, his neat appea
rauco aud refined manners."
BsLTtMonE was for many years the chosen
spot for political national conventions, and Bar
num's and tinv's tbe headquarters of the respec
tive factions. It was in Baltimore that Martin
Van Bnren was first nominated and re-nominated.
It was iu Baltimore that Joseph Holt, of
Kentucky, thrilled the nation bv an electric
speech in vindication of Richard M. Johnson in
1840. It was in Baltimore that James K. Polk
was nominated, in 1844, as the Democratic candi
date. It waa in Baltimore, in 1848, that Lewis
Cass was nominated. It was in Baltimore that
Franklin Pierce was nominated bv the Democrats,
and Winfield Scott by the -Whigs, in 1852. It
was in Baltimore that John C. Breckinridge was
presented as the candidate of tbe slaveholders,
and Stephen A. Douglass ratified as the candi
date of the independent Democracy, in 1860. It
was in Baltimore that Abraham Lincoln was re
nominated for President, in 1864, with Andrew
Johnson as vice-President. CoL J. W. Fpntj.
One of those things that have never been
fonnd oat to the entire satisfaction of everybody
is whether there is soch a thing as apontaneons
combustion, and it is a thing on which people
fin. a skentical that ordinary evidence is not
sufficient to conviuce them. Such people will ,
not believe this: A gentleman in Eeading, Pa, ;
after oiling some wood work, left the piece of,
flannel he had .used in a bowl with a small quan
tity of liusecd oil, ana piaceu u on tne secoua
storv balcouy in tho open air, intending to use it I
again. The "following morning he. found that the
flaunel had taken fire and been wholly consumed, ,
ti ashes remaining in the bowL .V. T. Mail I
A speculative traveler, telling how-his own
jjarj silky in London, became curly in Africa,
declares that such beings the case temporarily
with hi b,air, he5 believes the atmosphere alone
respbsible fer the ctwy Iocs of Ethiopia.
THAT LINE VEXCC
Old Farmer Smith came home in a miff
From hia field the other day.
While hia awert little wife, the pride of his life.
At her wheel waa spinning away.
And ever anon, a cay little ennf.
With the bail of her wheel kept time ;
And hia wrathful Drew Is clearinc now.
Under her cheerful rhyme.
Come, come, little Turk, put away your work.
And listen to what I aay:
What can I do but a qnarrel brew
With the man acroaa the way t
I have built my fence, bnt he won't rommence
Tolarasin'lerall: '
Bis rattle get in. and Ihe feed fU thin
1 am truiptrd to nuke a aale l
Why John, dear John, liow you dnsoral
I'm afraid it will tw aa they ay."
"Jfo, no. little wife, I have heard that'strife
In a tawycr'a hand don't pay. "" "
"Ife la picking a flaw, to drire me to taw,
I am told that he Maid he wuuld i
And yoa knw, Inaz a-o. law wronged me so,
1 vowed that 1 never sLuttlX
"So what an I .l.i. that I will not rue,
To the man acroaa the way t"
MIf that'a what you want, I can help you haunt
That nun with a spectre gray I
"Thirty dollars will do to carry you throu-h.
And tht n you bare jraincsl a neighbor ;
It wnnld csMt ynu mure to peep in the door
Of a court, and much more labor.
"Just use your gttod aenae lt'e build Lim a fence.
And ahame lad acta out nf the frtlow.
They built up hia part, and inl to hia heart
Lure'a dart, where the good though ta mellow.
That very asms ni-bt. by the candle Ii;ht,
They opene.1 with lnttmit. a letter.
Sol a wi.rd waa there, bnt three ETeenlstcka fair
Said the man waa crowiu, better.
IXDIItEfT tliriDK.
1. Wearing of thin shoes and cotton stockings
ou damp nights, and in cool, rainy weather.
Wearing iusufb'cieut clothing, and especially iiji
on tho limbs and extremities.
2. Leading a life nf enfeebling, stupid laziness,
and kteping the mind iu an unnatural state of
excitement by reading trashy novels. Going lo
theaters, parties and balls in all sorts nf weather,
in the thinnest nossible dress. Dancing till in a
complete perspiration, and then going home,
without siillieicnt over-garments, through the
cool, damp air.
3. Sleeping on feather beds iu seveii-bv-nine
bed-rooms, without ventilation at the top of tho
windows, and especially with two or more per
sons iu the same small, unventilated bed-room.
4. Surfeiting on hot and very stimulating din
ners. Fating in a hurry, without half masticat
ing the food, and eating hartily before going to
bed every night, when the mind and body are
exhausted by tho toils of the day and tho excite
ment of tho evening.
5. Bcginniug ill childhood en tea anil roffVv
and going from one step to another, through
chewing and smoking tobacco, and drinking in
toxicating liquors. By personal abuse, and
physical aud mental excesses of every dcscriti
tion. '
o. Marrying iu haste and getting an uncongen
ial companion, and living tho remainder uf life in
mental dissatisfaction. Cultivating jealous and
mental ferment.
7. Keeping children quiet by giving paregoric
aud cordials, by teachingthem to sock candv, aud
by supplying them with raisins, nuts, anil rich
cako. When they are sick, by giving them mer
cury, tartaric emetic and arsenic, under tho mis
taken notion that tbey ars medicines and not ir
ritant poisons.
8. Allowing the love of gain to absorb onr
minds, so as to leave no time to attend to our
health. Following an unhealthy occupation be
cause money can be made by it.
9. Tempting the appetite with hitters and nice
ties when tho stomach says, "no," and by forc
ing food into it when nature docs not demand
and even rejects it. Gormandizing between
meals.
10. Contriving to keep in a continual worry
almut something or nothing. Giving way to fits
of anger. .
11. B.ing irregular in all onr habits of sleep
ing and eating. Going to bed at midnight and
getting up at noon. Fating too much, too many
kinds of food, and that which is too highly sea
soned. 12. Negleting to take proper care of ourselves,
and not apply early for medical adv ice when dis
ease at first appears. Taking celebrated quack
medicines to h degree of making a drug shop of
the liudy.
The above causes produce mora sickness, suffer
ing and death thau all epidemics, malaria aud
contagion, combined with war, pestilence and
famine. Nearly all who have attained to old age
have been remarkable fur equanimity of temper,
correct habits of diet, drink and rest for temper
ance, cheerfulness and morality. Physical pun
ishment is sure to visit the transgressor of na
ture's laws. All cominitsnicide.aud cut off many
j ears of their natural life, who do not observe the
means of preventing disease and preserving
health.
iei
Likeraliea ! Caavictrel JleireVrcr A "laifw.
lar Sleiry.
On the 22d of October, 1861, the body of a man
stabbed in twenty-one places waa found on the
bank at Hoboken, N. J. It was subsequently
identified as that of a German Jew namnl Sigis
inuud Feliner, who had been in America bnt two
weeks ere he was thus hurried into eternity. It
was known that Feliner was possessed of consid
erable money and jewelry, and also, that be
lodged with a young man named Ignatz Ratzky,
and that he sustained intimate relations with a
joung woman namnl Albcrtina Pclanin, who
resided with her sister, Mrs. Marks, at No. 45
East Broadway. When last "seen alive ho left
this house in company with Ratzky to go to their
lodgings in Brooklyn. This was on the IStb, and
four dsj s afterward his body was fonnd as de
scribed. Suapicoin at once attached itself to
Ratzky andthe two women. Ratzky disappeared
and the women were arrested; in their house
was found a quantity of diamond belonging to
the murdered wan, aud on tho night of her arrest
All.ertine committed snicide by IiSogisg herself
iu her cell. The other woman was discharged for
want of evidence, and is supposed to have lost
her reason. Ratzky was traced. Mi eight
months after tbo murder was arrested in St.
Louis. He was brought to Brooklyn, where,
after considerable delay, he waa tried, found
guilty aud setcurnl to death. At this time there
was a law in existence, since repealed, which pre
vented any man nnder sentence nf death from be
ing executed until twelve months after trial.
Ratzky passed this year in Brooklyn, and at the
end of that time his sentence was commuted by
Gov. Fenton to seven years and two months-imprisonment.
No obv ions reason appeard for this
course except that the evidence on which he was
convicted was pnrely circumstantial. He was
removed to Sing Sing, and there underwent his
merciful sentence, and on Thursday last, tho 23d
nf November, Ratzky' prison doors were thrown
open, and for the first time in nine years he
breathed the air of freedom. Although only a
very short time in this country be had mads a
number of friends, who were nnreaaing in their
endeavors to obtain his pardon. and it is probably
through their efforts that Gov. Fenton commuted
nisaeutcnee. inai scores oi peopieinua ann ai-
ways have thought that he was ianoeeat of this
.rim. titer, ran tto no dnnhl- ITimiii bta relejiae I
the uue nutinne friends, who dnring the. long A Nebraska gemns seasons this way: "It it
years of bis imprisonment, bad beeu ao indefati- i the duty of every one to burn corn for fnel this
gable in his cause, received him when liberated, winter. Figure like thie: "Three hundred fam
and he i now a guest at the honse of tbe princi- ilies in this city, each family consnmes HO worth
pal one, Mr. Benjamin Pain, of Albany. Ratzky , of fuel dnring tbo winter; this amount to the
is now twentv-nine years of age, of very prepos-evsnng little uni of JliOOO. Thu money is spent
tossing appearance, an excellent linguist, and of i for coal, goes out of tbo country into the bands
very engaging and agreeable manners. By bis , of capitalists, aud it seen no nif.ro by ns. Re-
i ,V- .r , . - I v.n. fl, situation: tliL 000 will bnv GO.000 bnsb-
guuu conuuci nis term oi imprisonment aaiic
dnced by six months and he leave Sing Sing 1
;.i r. . i,.. t . .t--.i-.r
Wliu a inosi excellent cnaracter xrom hid hwikm-
'
I nt of'
Oct of the beautiful comes the nseful
.1 : . 1 .!. .. wwl f. ia nla
lue auucui matin luc suio-iriu !"". ...--
proposed to convert the Egyptian pyramids into
? J.i. s i .... iL i .; i- . .!t '
mtetirZ3SalZto;t&
the valley of the Euphrates and then wshaJl wno wniespoewyanu suow.otnersigusot weal
have a depot calle.1 "The Garden of Eden." v nee.
WEXDEixPniurssays: "The light wnicngiuu,
.. u.: :. ..... nr.nn.t Tbebreathofan
Adnu'famebaathechiUofthoebarnel-boiitein
ta .Allamaiacesa-ew tea uama wa '-- .
it.'
TERMS
THE USV riGHT,R THK MUeWJIA.-v.
FAIKLY CTW1TTEB.
The menagerie was in town.
A rare occurrence was an exhibition of the wild
beasts lions, tigers, polar bears and ichneumons,
in Baltimore, at the early day of which wo are
writing yet they came occasionally; and this
time were visited by old Nat Wheatly, jolly,
weather-beaten boatman, well known in Balti
more as an inveterate joker, who never let any
one get to the windward of him. He was, furth
ermore, a stutterer of tho first-class.
Nat v isited the uienagtrie.
As ho entered, tbe show man was atirint. nn t1,
moukeys and tormenting the lions, giving elabo
rate descriptions of the various propensities and
natural peculiarities of each aud all.
"This, ladies aud geutlemen this, I say, is the
African lion. A noble beast heis,Iadies and gen
tlemen, ami is called the king of tho forest. I
have heard that he makes nothing of devouring
voung creatures, of every description, when at
home in tbe woods. Certain it is, that no other
beast can whip him."
"M-ui-ieter,rt interrupted Wheatly, "d-do y-you
say he ca-ca-n't be whipjied P
"I duz," said tho man uf lions and tigers.
"What-at'll you bet I ca-cao't fetth a c c-crit-ter
whatll whip him t" l
"I aiu't a bettin' man, at all. I don't object to
iasD a suiait uci 10 mat luecw
"I'll b-b-bet M-I ra-can f-f-fetch aam.il.;....
that'll w-w.whip him. W-w-what say you to a
hundred dollars f "
Now there were several merchants iu the crowd
who knew Wheatly well, aud were fully convin
ced that if the bet was mado he was sure of wiu
uiug. So bo had no difficulty iu finding backers,
one of whom told him he would give him ten
gallons of rum if he win.
The menagerie man glanced at his lion. There
he crouched iu his ca?e. his sIisl-l-v mano brist
ling, and his tail sweeping, the very pictueof
grauueur aim majesty, me uriira was tempting,
aud ho felt assured.
"Certiug. sir, I have no objection to olo Her
cules taking a bout with any creature you may
fetch."
"V-v-vry w-well," said Nat. "It's a bet."
The money was plaukcd up, aud the next night
was designated for the terrible conflict. 'Ihe
news was spread over Baltimore, and at an early
hour the boxes of the spacious theatre were filled
the pit lieiug cleared for the aflray.
Kxpectation was ou tip-toe, and it was with
impatience the crowd awaited tbe arrival of
Wheatley. He at length entered, lieariug a large
bag or sack upon his shoulders, which as be let
it fall upon the floor, was observed to contain
some remarkable hard aud heavy substance. Tho
Keeper ioosei at it wiin indignation.
"Th-th-there," said Nat, pointing with his fin
ger at the hag.
"Well, what is it!" asked tho man, with in
creasing astonishment.
"Th-th-that, 1-Iadies and gentlemen," said Nat,
gesticulating like a showman, "isa wh-whim-baroper
!',
"A whimbamper," echoed the keeper, "that's
certainly a new feature in zoology and anatomy.
A whimbamiier! Well. let him out and clear tho
lie;, or old Hercules may make a mouthful of
uotn oi jou."
The keeper was excited.
Atcordingly, Nat raised the bag, holding the
aperture downwards, and rolled out a huge siia
ping turtle, while the cheers and laughter uf the
andieuce made tho arches ring.
"There ho is V said Wheatley, as be tilted the
whimbamper over with both his bands, and set
him ou his legs. The snapper seemed uncon
scious of his peril.
Tho keeper was about leaving the room, when
ho swore that his lion should not disgrace him
self by lighting smb. a contemptible foe.
"V-vcry well," said Nat; "if y-J-jou ch-chooso
to g-g-give me the hu-n-dred "
"But, it's unfair!" cried the showman.
The iiudieniu interposed aud iusisted upon the
tight. There was no escape, and the show man re
luctantly released tbe lion, making himself secure
on the top of the cage.
The majestic lieast moved slowly around the
ring snufiiug aud lashing, while ev cry person held
his breath iu suiK-nse. Lions are prying beasts,
and this one was not long in discovering tbe tur
tle, which lay on tho floor a huge and inanimate
mass. The lion soou brought his nose iu close
proximity to it, when the turtle, not thinking,
popped out its head and rolled its eyes, while a
sort of wheeze issued from its savageroiis mouth.
The lion jumped back, turned, and made a spring
at tbo cntter which was now fully prepared for
his reception. As the lion landed on him, the
turtle fastened his terrific jaws npou the lion's
nostrils, rendoring him jiowerlessto do barm, yet
with activity of limb, be bounded around the
circle, growled, reared, and lashed himself, bnt
the snapper hung on, teeming to enjoy the ride
vastly.
"Go it, Whimbamper!" cried Wheatly, from the
ltoxcs. The scene was rich.
Tho showman was no less enraged than the
lion. Drawing hi .pistols, he threatened Nat
with terrible threat, that, if he did'nt take his
turtle off, he'd shoot him.
"Ta-take him off yourself !" shouted Nat, in re
ply. At this critical moment, by dint of losing a por
tion of his nose, the lion shook bis dangerous foe
from him, and clearing the space between bim
and the cage with a bound, he slnnk quietly in
to chew tbe end of defeat and pain.
. It was a fair fight, all declaringthat the whim
bamper was the victor. The money was paid
over to Nat, who left tho theatre delighted at the
success of hit whim. The next morning he car
ried hit turtle to market and sold bim.
So this valiant champion, after conquering the
king of beasts, served to make a dinner fur Balti
more epicure.
All that is herein written, is snpposod to be
true, though highly colored, and is doubtless
"green iu the memory" of many old citizens of
tne monumental tny. uaattuote.
Kill Hlat A(euhe.
We have heard nothing of Dr. Livingstone for
over a week, and we have great fears that some
thin" has happened to him. It will be 'remem
bered that bo went to Africa on an exploring ex
rtodition some years age, aud managed to get
killed some half a dozen timet by the savage na
tives, after having married two or three tribes of
African women, and become a convert to tne re
ligiousbeliefof the country. During tbischecker
nl career, he was eaten once by a tiger, trampled
to death by an elephat. murdered by his trea
cherous attendants, drowned by tbe npsetting of
ins dost, ana uuroeu aa a witcu, aiier expiring
from starvation. Sir. Roderick Mnrchisou re
ceived a very pleasant letter from him, in which
he, strangely enough, gave no tidings of his
death, but with a perversity for which there is
no accounting, said he was in good health and
spirit. Various travelers have seen him in diffe
rent places at the same moment, and others have
heard trom him in diametrically opposite direc
tions. It is to be hoped that the present silence
that reigns on the subject it by no meant omi
nous. We cannot afford to lose Dr. Livingstone.
Hat not anybody anything more to tell about
him! We miss the well known name from the
nlaces it ha so lonz adorned in connection with
tbe marvellous. It is certainly time for bim to
die strain,
w nose duty is it to attend to inai
affair! There is tad neglect somewhere. foe-
fo Globe.
verse tbe situation ; f 12,000 will buy 60,000 bnab-
els i.r corn, tr burned, would raise tne pnceoi
.nm fifty rr cent and would benefit Ihe far-
---- -- -- , r --. ,
mere more, perhaps, than any other move that
can be made by the people."
. ...:.iui i un e ; e
Ax akHCLE entitled the "ConfcMions of a
Murderer." conclude as follows: "Little conn-
denco-iapUclin the tt.tement of the prisoner
h ainci v-amnia irveus ne c-
compamed with bis faithful Phuvr Naj, whose
.dotyttl, to decapitate all who, centraoiei m
a.-... . a . a f -
- ?2.00 PER AXXUX, IX ADTAXCE.
WHOLE JSTJMBER 804.
AT THE W1XDOW.
sr tux atrrnoa or "jous luurax."
Only to liaten listen and wait
J hia alow. Ann step down the s-rarel walkr
To ihear the elkk of hia hand at th? gate.
i . . '? T heart-beat through careleaa talk.
abi '; Is eet when lore ta tome !
AM hfe and love are both so long.
T t?.wm,,'h hira u Ue room.
Lighting it up with hia qolet amlle,
a 'AT.? ? "ft the world out of eloom.
m.T wif h'"" nearer me for awhile.
.., ?. . "" Ioe la younr.
And Ufa U beautiful aa lung.
Only to love him nothing more:
Covers thAnol,. .ri..- t 1
,, .T. -"""iui.IWIHl.Bir!
VllS, sfc, ' ' hlm- ".
Ill T w,h f" "n,r cri'f. not wronj,
.ana Ufo is daring when 'Us young.
Al.!'JWhMmi,V, "Hioworidit!-round.
And Uua and tulo are hut outside thmnr
1 ? '? U, wl,,t ln lim found. Pt
Why. life ia Hill not lon'-not long.
And heaven la kind to the faiihful heart:
And If weare patient, and anno aBlt W
Onr fruiuwin la... Ihjh oorj.rridiSrf .
vSS "'U,T,a?rfrnwi,hMdedpalnlm' ,
J? '"ncer fair, nn longer rising
Lite may not eeem ao but, r ns.
The tear dried up in her aliinln- ee.
iVmt U",.w""t doorway Ilea.
a-i,.n kTrJ""'"" E,Uwr 'l,r,"n- "-,
Irue lore sahf.itaelf u long.
COMDK.sisKB JVOirKI.H.
wl,icT.V0Je,lsMiT:;V,' """'l-'-l "orels,"
"MVcSr r",a,,n Bnd S,-oo,l:
"Kdgardn! You herej-
" i es, dearest."
"And yon yon von i. .. ,
nothing r said the lady in an ".T! 'T""""!
nervous manner, turning her faT. . ,cp. aml
emotion. " ir,a to conceal her
'Nothing that is, nothing r .
said Kdgardo. "I passed thol," ? Ta,,ntC
in the park passnl the spectre of i'ZrU &
the mined keep, and otiserved the familiar fea
ture of tho spirit of your grandfather at his poet.
But nothing be ond these trifle, my Selina.
Nothing more, love absolutely nothing."
The onng man turned hi dark, liquid onto,
fondly upon the ingenuous face of his betrothed.
This is from one callol "Terence Denville,"
after Chariest Lever: s.
When I was nineteen vear old mv fill,.,.. .l.i
the Chateau d'Ruville.and purchased my commit-'
sion in the "Fifty-sixth " with tho proCnils. Na
poleon had retimed from Elba. Knropo was in
a blaze of excitement. Tho allies wore preparing
to resist the Mall of Destiny. Wo wcreordrred
from Gibraltar home I waa ambitions, and
longed for an opportunity ta distinguish myself.
My garrison life in Gibraltar had been moiinto
nona nnd dull. I had killed firemen in dules,aud
had an affair with the tolonel of my regiment.
woo uauusuineiy aHiogizeil lieforo the mailer
hail assumed a serious aspect. I had leen tw ice
in love. Vet theso were hut boyish freaks amf
follies. I wished to be a man.
Hero is Cooper's "Noble RtdMau:"
It needed but a single glance to detect at one
the form and feature of the haughty aborigine
the untaught and untrammelled son nf the forest.
Over ono shoulder a blanket, negligently but
gracefully thrown, disclosing a bare and power
ful breast, decorated with a quantity of three
cent postage stanqM which he hadileaMiIed from
an overland mail stage a few we ks prev ions. A
cast-off bcav er of Judge Tompkins', adorned bv a
single feather, covered his erect head, from Ihv
neath which his straight locks dcs ended. His
right hand hung lightly by his side, while his
left was engaged in holding on a pair of panta
loons, which the lawless grace and freedom of
his lower limbs evidently could not brook.
"Why," said the Indian, in a low, sweet voicev
"why does the pale-face still follow the track of
tho red man! Why does he pursue him, eveu as
O-kc-echovv, the wild-cat, chases the Kaka, tho
skunk ! Why," ho reeated, quietly but firmly
extracting a silver soii from the table, "why do
jou seek to drive him from tho wigwams of his
fathers! His brothers are already gone to the
happy hunting ground. Will the pale-face seek
him there!" And, averting his face, he hastily
slipped a silver cake-basket beneath hit blanket '
to conceal hit emotion.
A "I.eot River."
A leading article in a late number of the St..
Taiil Vrtn gave the following mournful aeeonut
of the condition ef things at the "head of uavica--tion:
b
"Tho Mississippi is almost dried np. Tho ma
jestic river whose inagnilicect volume twottiou--sand
miles from its nutlet has been the theme of
the tourist's admiration ; so broad and deep that
it seemed some grand estuary of the sea nn which
theuavietnf tho world might ride; ha shrunk
to a mere ridiculous creek, and its thin aud at
tenuated current crawls lazily, as if it were
ashamed of its shrunken shanks, among low, red.
bare submarine ridges and beaches of sand that
have never seen the sun before, so far as human:
knolnlgo goo, since God separated the water
from tho dry land. Tbe water ha never been to
low within the memory of the oldest inhabitant.
Herds of cattle bask in tbetnnshineoo tho dried"
bed of the great river ten or fifteen feet nnder the
level uf the waters whore a few month ago great
fleets of tteamboatt rode at will. Boys with their
trowser rolled np to their knee sound with their
feet tho grand mysterious depth which have en
gulfed to many wayward boys and hapless men
whom accident or rashness has entangled in the
strong, swift nndertow."
Ax interesting foreign book, toon to- be re
printed by Sen liner. Armstrong &. Cot, ia- the
"Memoir of Robert Chambers," the noted Scettiau
publisher and editor. It ia partly autobiograph
ical, and partly the narrative of his brother ill
iam, who tells the story of their boyish fight
with fortune in a simple and sincere way, which,
more famous biographers would do well to study.
Of bis painful and bitter youth, Robert C'bam
bert himself could not bear to speak ; he shared
with Dickens that nervous disinclination to re
call a wretchedness which made him old before
hia time. William, less sensitive, if not more
generona, describe with no hesitation the bare
lodging in which, shaking with odd, and not to.
well nourished by their scanty oatmeal, the two
boy read and stndied in all love and gravity ;
how Robert began bit telf-suppoHing life aa a
bookseller, at nxteen, with a few eld volume,
wufnlly dilapidated and pnt aside as useless by
his people at home; how William established
himself in business with ncapital of five shillings,
and hew gradually grew np the great arm
which it known of all men.
The San Franciace Sulltliit, of April 2, tell
this: '-The silver half dollar nailed to a etick
dnven down betweeu the paving stone in the
treet, at tbe crossing of California and Battery
streets, yesterday, caused a great number of peo
nlatoiton snd attempt to increase their 'finan
ces, then start on with a tsetaphorieal flea fa
each ear, muttering something about April took
At length a small boy came along, kicked Yigor
onsly at tbe coin, comprehending the situation
and walked off. He toon returned, armed with
pair of blackimith'a prefers, and, seizing the
bead uf tbe stick, with a firm grip, pulled it np
bodily and walked off with it in triumph, re
marking totto roor, 'I gness somebody ele it
fooled this time.' Bnt what it the worl'd coming
tot That bal f dollar was bogus."
Tlir. infidel Retsean said : "I must coulees ta
you that the majesty of the Scriptures aetonislies
me; the holiness of the evangelists epeaket to.
my heart; and their narrative has snch strong
and striking character of rtJ,t PASSr
over, to perfectly inin.it.ble. that if it had been
the inventi. of -an, th. Inventor would be,
greater than the greatest hero.
SoMKBonr wrote repeatedly to Gen-Schenek,
.:i...r. In London, askinc for hi autbo-
erraph. The General ia said to have written tho
following reply: "Sir.I hasten to eomphr with
----v j, , k. ni Ilkrtbdof iiJbrming
, tne renaaw, a .- ,.,., ,
1 nE Tllfl am KII UUUIIllC'aLrwi II aaaatUOEW A
i, "sn-" "JL. C. SCIQWCK.'
:m
1
I&l
M
i-.1
I
i
