Newspaper Page Text
'I II U A
FREMONT, SANDUSKY COUNTY, JULY 13, 1850.
4 r -
J. S, FOIKE, Editor and Publisher.
The Fiijuk, is published every Saturday rnorn
t in; Office Ju Auckland's Brick Building third
Story; Fremont, Sandusky count, Ohio.'
V V - - TERM 3.. ; - .
Single mat! subscribers, per year, .
i Clubs af tea and upwards, to on adJrm
- Clubs of fifteen
,Ti" subscribers will ba chaired HI 75
t fereacein tho tarma between the price an paper
"' delivered m town and thoae sent by mail, isocca-
eioned by the axpense of carrying. . ' v
r ' Wheu the money Is sot paid in advance, aa above
soecified. Two Dollara will be charged if paid with-
.' 4o the year, if not paid until after the enpirntion of
. . w ,,e . . :n I t.
y-ar.. i wo fonars ana x my cent, .tu u, uit
d. Th -so tr-rma will be etrictly adhered to, .
" " How to Stov- i Paur First tee that you have
paid for it an to the time yon wieh it to atop; notify
f the Poet Master Of yout sieeire, and ask htm to no-
tifv the puhlinher, under hie frank, (aa h ia author-
iied la dnj of your wth to discontinue.
fc j- r -S. RATES OF ADVERTISING.-; :
(Ok square 13 liriea first inaertion.....$0 50
-v 0a - each additional ineerlioa -- 25
. Do Three months..... .... .... .... 3 00
' Do Six' months.." 3 50
- Do . One year... 5 00
TwosquereeSix month. ... i.. ......... . 600
- i Do, : One year.... .... 10 00
"Hatfoolnmn Oue year... ........ 18 00
One column Oue year.... ... .... ........ 30 00
V , -.- Bit0inc33 P'tmlorg. . -
J FREMONT FREEMAN 5
'-IK JO B P BINT1XO OF FICEi
..-''" We are now prepared to execute lo ordar, iae
etand expedit'ioue manner, and upon the faireat
terms; almost ail deacription of -
V SUCH AS
( Busiiixsa Cards,
Show lill.i., ,.
r . ,W would say to
Bin. Heads, . v , -
Rim.i or LlDIIG,
Bali, Twain, xtc, etc.
those of our friends who are in
want of auch work,
it doaa, when it eat
you need not go abroad to get
i ba dona joe aa good at home.
SOXS OP TEMPERANCE. -:
' Four STrrnanaon Divraioa, No. 432. Stated
meetings, ery Tuesday evening at the Division
-Room in theold Northern Exchange. . - ..
C ABETS OF TEMPERANCE,
: i Fort SnrHSasoa Ssctiok, No. 102, meets eve
Very Thursday aTaning in the Hall of the Sons of
- rnpranc. ' " ' ' '
u:T7. i. o. o. F. :. -: i -
, l CnseaTAir Lodoe, No. 77, meeta at the Odd Fel
Iowa' Hall, iu Bucklsnd'a Btick Building, arery
tsatnrday eTeaiag. -
EOBERTS, I1U BB ABD & CO V:
Copper, Tit., and Sheet-Iron Ware,
iTes, Wool, Hides, Sheep-pelts, Bags,
. Old Copper, 014 Stoves, Ac, (fee. : , .
T-MMO, ALL BOUTS Of CKNUIS TAKKB KOTIOK8
PcascH Brick Block, No 1. '
, FREMOST, OHIO. - 32
SXEPHES BUCKIiANI & CO.,
- :--K tiiim W ;""
" Drugs, Medicines, Palats, Dye-Stnffs,
j Books, Stationaay,' &c.i ,
v FREMONT, OHIO. - -
"r.. lEaLPII P. BICKLAAD! r ,
4 ttnpm.v I. II I Counsellor at taw,
., And Solicitor in Chancery, will attend to rrofeaa-
iooal busiuesam saaauaKy anc aujumiug kuuuh
Office Second story of Buckland'a Block.
FREMOXT. OHIO. -
' t---. , , JOUS i.. CHEESE, :
X ATTORNEY Af tAW,
" And Prosecuting Attorney, for Sandaaky connty,
will attend to all professional baeineaa autraated lo
J. ".hi care, with promptneet and fidelity. : :
0:?ice In tha eecond story of Buckland'a Block.
"" T FREMONT, OHIO. "
J - CHESTEK EDGERTOXt .
' Attorney and Coaasellor at IawV
. And Solicitor in Chancery, wiU carefully attend
. to all professional bnsiaeas left ia Ins charts. Ii
asill aloo attend to the collection of claima ice, in
hi and adjoining counties .
J ". Office Second story Buckland'a Block.
;r FREMOMT, OHIO. . 1
, : B. J. BAUTLETT, . ' '
4 Attorney and Counsellor at law,
' . V ill giT his undivided attention to profeaaional
' fcasinese iu Sandusky and the adjoining counties. . .
s Office Ojrer Oppenheiaier' Stora. i ....-
-s -v J.':-.: - FREMONT. OHIO. 1
.- - IjA p.. BAWSOJfl
" PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
- Office North side af the Tompika, nearly oppo-
aita tha PoatOdice. -" j , ..-. t
FREMONT, OHIO. . ' . I
PIE HUE BEArCRAXDl : .
P H Y8 1 CIA N AND S URGE O N ,
- Respectfully tendera hie professional eerrices to
the citiaene of Fremont and ricinity. '
Office One door north of E. N. Cook'e Store.
S PORTAGE COUNTY
Jlitaa! Fire Insurance Company.
'.- B- P. BUCH.IiAflr, Agentt
.-f!vv-i FREMONT, OHIO. . '
:- " POST OFFICE HOtRS. . ,'
- Tha regular Post Office houra, nntil further ne
tiea will he as follows; - : -f , ;
1 ' From i to 1 2 A . M. and from t to 6 P. M. '
- Sundays from 8 to 9 A M, and from 4 to S P M,
-..... v W.M. STARK, P. M.
. Farm to Ijet! - --
SEVERAL FARMS, nearTremont, and conre
niant to tha Turnpike, ID TO RENT. J
ir- Some of these have Eiphty to Ninety acres clear
mi thereon, witti eomfortable Hoosee, Bams &e.
Slnquiraof- SAML. CROW ELL,
--1 ,. ' General Land Agent.
iiaskaJungs, March S, 1850 5I-S . ..
V FREMONT HOUSEi
. AND :. GENERAL " -
.FREMONT SANDUSKY COUNTY, O.
- WM. KESSLES, Proprietor.
li TR KESSLER. annonncea to tha Traveling
- 1V J. Pnblie that be bae returned to the above well
knawa stand and is now prepared to accommodate
In tha best manner, alt who may favor bim with
their Datrooaee. ' ,
- NoafTorta will be spared to promote the comfort
- and convenience of Luets.,
' ,. &3" Good SrABLiso and earafnl Ostlbbs in at
-.tendance.- 1 "- "v -
r. Fremont, November 24, S849 36
WARRANTY, Mortgage, and Quit Claim
Deeds for sale at the
$) o e t r a
" BT R. C.. WATKRSTOH. . . - ' !
1 lore thee, Nature love the well
. la eunny nook and twilight dell, .
Where birds and beee and bloeeome dwell, .
And leaves and flowers;
And wind in low sweet voices tell
- 7. .- : Of happy hon re.
- I lova the clear and running streams.
Which niildTy flash, with silver glaama,
Or darkly lie, like shadow dreams, . .
To blase the sight; .
. While every wave with beauty teame,
And smiles delight.
I love thy forest, deep and lone.
Where twilight shades are over thrown.
And murmuring winds, with solsmn tone,
Go elowly by, .
Sending a peal like ocean moan, ,
Along the sky.
1 1 love to watch at cloee of day.
The heavens in splendor malt away, ,
' From radiant gold to silver grey, '
Am sinks the sun; i -While
stars upon their trackless way. '
. . Come one by one.
I love, 1 know not which the best.
The little wood-bird in its neet,
The wave that mirrors in Its breaat
r- , -The landscape true,
Oc the sweet flower by winds caressed. ':
- ' And bathed in dew.
. They all are to my bosom dear.
They ail God's messengers appear!
Preludes to song that spirits hear! '
' t-: Mute prophecies! '- "
Faint types of a resplendent sphere- v
s . - Beyond tha akiea!
..The clouds the mist tha sonny air:
Alt that ia beautiful and fair,
v Beneath, around, and ever where,
..- Were sent -in love, ,
And some eternal truth declare -
, From heaven above!
fll i s c 1 1 1 a n 1 0 n s ;
The seasons, adjusted with beautiful har
mony and rolling round !o give . birth to fruit
and flowers; ahada and eunshine, heat and
cold, prolific in every luxury that minister io
the sensual delight of man, or instructs his in
tellect in a knowledge of the mysterious power
of God, are hailed with joy by all his creatures
save man, who criticises what he cannot com-'
prehend, condemns what he cannot judge, and
repines at what his wilfulness only disqunli- i
fiea him from appreciating. - And yet the va- i
riation of the season is one of the chief sources
of his happiness, novelty only being considered.
In nature all is narmony, even when the
magnificence of the summer era thunder
storm darts its vivid lightnings through the
air, and Hashes winged fare to toe skies. v In
man only lurks the discontent of a thankless
heart, and the peevishness of a festering
spirit With the peevish fretful and ill-natured,
it is always too hot or too cold, : too moist
or too . dry, too calm or too windy. ' Some
writer has said- "never marry a woman who
frets at the weather,' and we join in the advice,
for she will always find something else to fret
at, besides what she cannot control. . Thank
God, we have bo weather" mongers but the
almanac makers, or what a hotch-potch of it
would pelt us about the head, swelter us
with heat or freeze us with cold, all in the
same minute; and it is no little satisfaction to
think that "a patent" has not yet been taken
out to regulate the seasons, so as to suit all
tastes at the same time, especially tidy house
keepers, who always want the dust .laid, or
growling farmers, who eternally want rain for
the grass.--;' v.- ' ' --s- -v--
If it rains for a day, "Oh !" cry these rebels
against God, 'it is al way a raining.' , If it clears,
and a fine shower of silver light pours 'down
trom the face of the Hod of day, "Oh, this hor
rid sun, are we never to have a rain ?" ,:. "Blow,
blow, hlow, the wind is always blowing," cries
peevish Jeremiah: and then follows a calm,
when some gentle pet-lamp of the other sex
cries in despair, "What would I give for a
little breeze ! and for want of one 'out of doors'
she is sure to raise oue in the house, all which
is weak silly, culpable, and unworthy of a reas
onable beinp-, who ought to know the useful
operations of the. season for the sustenance
and health of man. Be thankful, equally for
the the summer's heat and the winter's cold.
If it is hot, reeking, steaming hot, patience
and good nature will make it twenty degrees
cooler; .besides securing your health from
damage by that irritatatioa which is so apt
to throw one into a fever. Take things cooly.
Don't, overheat yourself: don't overdrink
yourself, and. don't eat inordinately. Put
steam on anything but your own brain, and
you may survive many worse things than the
summer's scorching rays. "Keep cool," for
the thermometer won t go down by scolding,
and every breeze you raise only makes it hot
ter. . . (Phil. Ledger.
:V; --T- f o ,:. V.: '
5 , x . A Good Story. "
?; A capital story is told as recently happening
to the Duke ;of Wellington, though we do
not vouch for its accuracy. Mrs. Loudon,
the well known writer on Botany and Horti
culture, addressed him a note asking permis
sion to see a plantation of brtecket oh one -of
bis estates, and signed her name u. i. Louaon.
Th9 duke opened the note, and glancing first
through bis spectacles at the signature, read it
U. J JUonaon. "An I the Bishop ot iicpaoni
such being the usual signature of that pre
late, v A second glance at the contents of the
note disclosed to the hasty eye ofjthe Duke
that the writer desired to sea his breeches.
What the Bishop could want with the Duke's
breeches was a puzzler, but reflection suggest
ed that it was probably the breeches he wore
at the Battle of Waterloo, and that they were
wanted to be copied in some painting or for
some other artistic purpose. Accordingly the
breeches were carefully enveloped and sent to
tbe tsishop, with the Duke s compliments.
The Bishop received them with astonishment,
and atter turning the matter over in his mind,
could not avoid the fear that the advanced
years of the Duke had produced a weakness
of mind, of which this was a first manifesta
tion. - Full of this fear, he at once hurried to
Lord John Russel to communicate, it and
found the Prime minister so better able to
exnlain the circumstance than himself. - Mean
while the Duke, on second thoughts, and
fonnd the suDoosed reauest of the Bishop
queer one, and putting the note in his pocket,
also went to Lord jonn s wnere ne arriveu
while the Bishoo Wo there. Finally the
matter was explained, and on a further exam
ination of Mrs. Loudon's not tha causa of the
mistake was discovered. : It ia needless ia say
that Mrs. L. at once got the permission sought
and visited the breeehes with great satisfac
tion. . , '- -- - . - :: -
- CHARLES ELLIST0N.
"I must leave this place to-night ; I can
bear their marked neglect and open taunts no
longer," said CharlesElliston, and he left the
richly furnished parlor, where, with some fash
ionable guests sat Mrs. Merton and her two
eldest daughters, and went forth into the gar
den. "Yes, must go," he continued, "no one
cares for me; and should they for the penni
less being whose very origin is unknown ?
Alas, how hard it is to be thus cast upon the
world friendless, and beloved by none-none
And he buried his face in his hands, over
come with the intensity of his feelings. ; :
'None, Charles ?' said a clear silver voice
behind him, while a hand was gently laid up
on his shoulder. . . - ... , V
He started and turning round, said -:
Yes, yes. Helen, pardon me, I , spoke un
thinkingly. You still love me he added in-1
quiringly. ' .
I do, Charles, and my father :
Yes, your father my noble benefactor, He
len. He still loves me. ; j
.'Then why leave us, Charles?' she said in
a tender tone.
'Because, Helen, you know I have already
been the cause of much dissension in your
family God forbid that I should be so any
longer. 'And besides Helen, you know what
treatment I have received from your' mother
and sisters. I have borne .it. long out of re
spect for your father, and love for you, but I
can bear no more. -I will go forth into the!
world in hopes of building up a fortune.and say
Helen, if I should be successful and return,
will you ' ..... ., !
I will love you still,' she said interrupting
him.- 'O, I will always love you, Charles.' ;
" 'Farewell,' snid he. " -
And imprinting a kiss upon her rosy lips,
he tore himself away. In annother hour he
had quitted the house where he bad spent so
many happy days with Helen.
Charles Elliston was dependant upon the
bounty of Mr. Merton. He had found him
one day when about four years old, wander
ing about the streets of the city, a lost child.
He kindly took him home, and used every en
deavor to discover his parents, but all to no
purpose. At last, finding his inquiries were
useless, he raised and educated him as his own.
Unlike her husband, Mrs. Merton was of an
aristocratic proud spirit, who could not bear
one whose birth was so uncertain as that of
young Elliston. She bad diffused some of
this spirit into her eldest daughters; Dut He
len, the youngest, like her father, possessed a
kind noble heart, and looked only with compas
sion and love upon the poor, though noble youth.
tie was now about seventeen years ot age,
and the insults that were heaped upon him
were felt severely. It is true, when Mr. Mer
ton was present, none dared to snow the least
disrespect toward him, but this only served to
make him teeel , it more acutely in bis aD-
sence. -' -'.
- It was on this very mentioned evening, that
a new insult had been ottered to bim, and be
determined not to live another day where he
was exposed to them. Nor would it 'have
caused him one feeling of regret, had it not
been for Mr. Merton and Helen ; but howev
er dear they were to him, he resolved to leave
them. ' He left, too, without informing Mr.
Merton, for he well knew that he would insist
upon his staying, and would not be the author
of discord in that family where dwelt, tbe on
ly two on earth he could call his friends.
It was near the close of a summer's day,
that a steamboat touched the wharf of one of
our southern cities, and from its crowded decks
poured a stream of weary travellers eager once
more to set foot upon .the land. - Among the
last who stepped on shore was a tali youth,
with a vail" in his hand, who walked slowly
from the landing and bent his way towards
the shipping warehouses along lhe wharves.
But, alas, he was a stranger and had no re
commendations. ; . . - '... --1 ; --
With a' dejected mien, and a sorrowful step,
he was about giving up all hopes, when he
came to a large warehouse he had not before
entered. He walked into the counting house
where sat a gentleman apparently about for
ty years of age. To . the youth's inquiry
whether he was at the head of the establish
ment, he replied in the affirmative. 1 .
T 'What do you. wish my lad?' he enquired,
. 'Do you want a lad to assist in your store ?
I have no recommendations to offer you sir,
he continued modestly. 1 have just arrived
in the steamboat from the north, and have nei
ther money nor friends. I cannot even buy
a lodging for the night - -
And seeing the merchant look incredulous
ly at him, he could contain himself no longer,
but said imploringly- '
O, sir, .do not refuse," and the " tears trick
led down his cheeks. . .
t. The merchant touched by his grief, and con
vinced by the opuness of his manner, hesitat
ed a moment, and finally took bim to his house.
A few days proved the truth of the youth's
story, and he was employed at.once by his
new benefactor. -
In the course of time he rose by degrees
until be became bead clerk in tbe establish
ment of Mr. Thomson. He; also, by his ami
ableness became the favorite of, the wealthy
family of the employer with whom he lived.
All loved him, and he loved them in turn as
father, -mother, -and sister. For although
Charles (for it was Charles Elliston) thought
that tmm was almost as beautiful as bis own
Helen, yet he still remained faithful to the lat
ter, and could but think of the former as 1
sister.. - -'"; - -: : T- - - - : -' .-'
Five vears rolled by, and he had now be
come proprietor of the large establishment
which be had entered as an errand boy, Mr.
ibomson having retired from business.
One evening he was sitting in familiar con
versation with the family, when Mrs. Thomson,
after looking steadfastly at Charles, for some
time, remarked how much Emma and he re
sembled each other. . ".
- 'Yes,' said her husband, 'I have often ob
served it, they look as much alike as though
they were really brother and sister. ' Our
Charles poor little fellow could not have
been more like Emma.' " ' .
Your Charles? I never knew you had
any other child besides Emma,' said Charles.
'When did he die?' : " -'";
'Would to God he had died!' exclaimed
Mrs. Thomson ; 'then would I have known
he was in Heaven ; but now, perhaps, he is
buffeted about by strangers, whose hard hearts
can seldom feel like a parents.' r
-And then she -gave vent to her feelings in
tears. ;f. 'v . - ;
lis was lost then V asked Charles.
.'Yes," said Mr, Thomson.; - 'About seven
teen years ago, Mary and myself travelling
north for th9 b?n of pur fetftUb, to visi, Spine
frjendsin New York city, took with us our lit
tle Charles, who was scarcely four years old,
and then our only cnild. We arrived their in
safety, and after staying with our friuds some
time, set out on our return home. ' Anxious to
prosecute our journey, we immediately on our
arrival took the steamboat to : proceed on. " I
went to see to tbe safety of the baggage, think
ing my Mary and Charles were in the cabin,
but what was my surprise, when on going in
to the cabin some", time after to find Mary
there alone. She thought I had Charles with
me, and the swooned away wfien I informed
her that I had not We searched the boat
over, but no Charles could be found, and then
it struck us that he had wandered on shore be
fore the boat left the wharf, and consequently
was letl behind, now narrowing were our
thoughts! to think that every minute the dis
tance was increasing between us and our dear
ly beloved child. But there was one thought
still more distressing. Perhaps be had fallen
overboard, unseen, and was drowned. How
ever, I determined, on arriving at New Or
leans and leaving Mary with her friends and
relations, to return to Philadelphia and spare
no pains or expense in trying, to discover his
fate ; but the great mental excitement and
bodily fatigue I had undergone, threw, me in
to fever on the way and it was several
months before I recovered. When I did, and
arrived jn Philadelphia, no trace could be dis
covered of our child, and never since have we
heard anything concerning him. . But God be
praised, Charles, he has given us a son in
you.' - - .
Uut was there no mark by which be could
bave been known if he had been left behind,
as you first supposed V asked Charles ea
gerly. .- - , I-, V-V-. ,
y es, there were scars pt a dog's toetn on bis
left wrist, and besides he wore a locket, a birth
day present from his father, around his neck,
with 'Charles engraven on it, said Mrs.
Thompson with tears in her eyes.
Then father, motber,' said Charles oaring
his arm and drawing from his bosom a locket,
which he threw into Mr, Thompson's lap, 'be
hold your lost eon.' -
t or an instant they stood amazed the-next
they were locked in each other's arms. - Then
turning to Emma he for the first time pressed
to his bosom a sister. : . -
How different was his situation - cow from
what it was when he first set foot in New
Orleans. Then he was poor and friendless,
with scarce a place to rest his head now he
was wealthy, surrounded by friends, and bless
ed with a father's, mother's and sister's love.
He could claim now what her noble father
wouTS not bave refused.even to the poor youth,
had he asked it Helen's hand ; and even her
proud mother would not object to receiving
for ber son-in-law tbe heir ot the richest mer
chant in New Orleans. ,: . . ;
Mirth and music resounded throughout and
gladness reigned predominant in the splendid
mansion of Mr. Merton. It was the birth
night ball of his beautiful and accomplished
daughter Helen, given on her nineteenth birth
day, and tbe magnificent saloons were throng
ed by the youth, beauty and elite of tbe roe
tropolis. All paid willing homage to her faci-
nating charms. Nor beneath their fervent
congratulation did there lurk augbt of malice
or envy; for tbe sweet disposition and gentle
manners of Helen Merton bad won the good
will of all who knew her. And now as she
replied to their warm-hearted wishes, she look
ed more beautiful than ever., she was attir
ed in a plain white dress, looped with roses,
and fitted exquisitely to ber -moulded form ;
her shining chesnut curls were confined by a
costly diamond head-band, that sparkled on
her forehead, rivaling the transparent beauty
and clearness other complexion.
At times, when she would - mingle in tbe
giddy whirl of tbe dance, a smile would play
upon her lovely teatures; but when over, a
melancholy expression would . steal into her
laughing eye, telling that something was yet
wanting to complete ber happiness. the was
thinking, perhaps, how he, who many yean
ago hffd won her maiden love, might, while
she was surrounded by wealth and luxury, be
dragging out the prime of his life in poverty
and distress. -Yes, she still remembered the
companion of her childhood. Such is woman's
constancy and love. Alas that it should be
so often abused.
The evening was somewhat advanced, when
Mr. Merton approached Helen, locked arm in
arm with young man, whose dark counten
ance, raven hair and eyes, and tall, straight
torm indicated a native of the south.
'Mr. Thompson of New Orleans, my dear,
said Mr. Merton.
And then after conversing a few moments,
he sauntered to the opposite side of tbe sa
loon. - J, .-. ....
'Who is that handsome young man you
just introduced to Helen?' asked Mrs. Merton
of her husband.
That is Mr. Thompson of New Orleans, the
richest merchant in that city, as his father
was befre him. v He arrived here but the day
before yesterday. I was introduced to him
yesterday, and invited him here to-night, and
if the impression is now felt on Helen's heart
which has hitherto been so callous, none will
regret the disappearance of ' -- -
Your protoge, - Charles Elliston,' said his
Mr. Merton did not answer her he only turn
. At first when the stranger was introduced
to Helen there appeared an air of embarrass
ment; but it gradually wore off, and he enter
ed into conversation with his usual vivacity.
In the course of it she asked him if he had ev
er been in the city before. - .
1 He replied that he bad been when he was
about seventeen years of age, and that he had
then been acquainted with several of his age,
whose acquaintance he highly prized. Among
those he mentioned was that of Charles Ellis
ton in particular. -
As he pronounced the name, he bent his
dark eyes full upon her, and perceived that
she startled awhile, for an instant agitation
was Visibly depicted on her countenance. Af
ter a moment's pause he continued- -
; 'But I have made inquiries since my arrival,
respecting him, and hear that he haa return
ed the kindness of his benefactor, your father,
with ingratitude, by leaving his house and go
ing no one knew whither. , . "
O, no, sir, do not believe that; it is an idle
report He had reasons for leaving my fath
er's house,' and her voice trembled and a tear
stood in her eye. Just then a gentleman ad
vanced to claim her hand for the cotillion, and
the conversation was abruptly terminated.
Charles resigned her silently, but his hyvrt
was full. ' . ''-'-,' " - - ''- '"-' -
It is strariore hbw the larjse of a few years
.between youth aitd feanhood will fchange the.
face and disguise tbe form; the slight strip
ling that awhile ago clambered on our knee
we can scarcely recognize in the full, stately
form, and staid demeanor of the man. ; So it
was with Charles Thompson, and no wonder
that Helen and her father could not see in the
rich merchant of the south, the poor lad, who,
six years before, had left them with scarce a
dollar in his pocket -
It was the morning following the ball, and
Mr. and Mrs. Merton and Helen were sitting
in the parlor, the former two engaged in dis
cussing some private affairs, the latter with
her head resting upon ber hand, apparently
in deep thought - -The servant entered and
handed Mr. Merton a letter. He opened it,
and having perused it for a few moments, ut
tered an exclamation of joy. : Both his com
panions looked. . Seemingly overcome by the
excitement of some unusually pleasant news,
he approached his daughter and gently pat
ting her upon the cheek, said . ?.
'Come, come, Helen dear, cheer up, Charles,
our own dear Charles, has returned ; he is in
the city, and will be here in half an hour.
Cheer up, my dear ,;. - -;J; .; :
And he began to pace tbe Boor. - -
'See here,' he continued, as a splendid equip
age drove up to the door, from which a young
man alighted, 'here is Mr. Thompson toe; how
glad I shall be to introduce them to one anoth
er.' -; . ' ;' .-:
1 don't see why you should be,' said his
wife, 'though perhaps your Charles, as you
call bim, may be as rich as Mr. Thompson.
You know that he left word that he was going
to seek bis tortune. And she pronounced
this last word with a sneer.
'And he hopes he has found it madam ;'
exclaimed Charles, who entered just at that
moment; 'thanks to an all-wise Providence
that directed me to my father's house. It is
Charles that now stands before you.' --
With a shriek of delightHelen threw herself
in his outstretched arms, and wept tears of joy
on his bosom ; and the old man stood motion
less but his eyes were wet, and his lips quiv
ered, but not with grief
When they had become somewhat compos
ed, Charles related what had occurred since
he left them. . The joy that beamed in the
swimming eyes of the delighted girl, as she
hung fondly on her lover's arm, was only equal
led by tbe tenderness with which be returned
ber look of attcction. How deep was the bliss
of that moment making amends by its delight
for the long years of doubt and absence. It
was not long before Charles renewed again the
boyish vows be had pledged to Helen, and
the blushing girl listened, smiling and weeping
Need it be added that in a short time He
len and Charles were united at the alter, and
that even the aristocratic mother smiled up
on the union of her daughter with the ci-devant
Charles Elliston. ' ' '
Wise the JEronaut.
We copied, the other day an account of one
Dr. Bell's success in steering a ballon through
tbe air over the city of London.. .Wise, our
American aeronant it appears, has been busy'
preparing for a grant enterprise which ' shall
embrace air navigation in its greatest extent
The Lancaster (Pa.) Gazette, informs us that
two balloons are being constructed in that city,
one fifty feet in its greatest diameter, and
from thirty to forty in its transverse, and the
other of a smaller size. The success which
has hitherto attended Wise's aeronautic expe
riments, has induced him to engage in this,
his greatest with the confident hope that it
will enable him to prove not only the practi
cability and safety of serial navigation, but
also the ability to steer and propel balloons in j
any desired direction.
The two balloons will contain over1 1,500
yards of silk, and the capacity of the largest
will be sufficient to enable Mr. -Wise to take
with him six passengers at least, in his serial
voyages, as it will contain 30,000 cubic feet of
gas, with ari ' ascensive power of seventy
pounds to the 1,000 feet By this means, par
ties of pleasure and invalids, will have an op
portunity of testing the pure air of the upper
regions,while to the man of science,it will open
a boundless field, hitherto wholly inaccessible
save to a favored few. In order that the
safety of an ascension may be fully apparent
the ballon will be permitted to rise several
hundred or over a thousand feet, and be made
to descend at the pleasure of the voyagers by
means of a cord and windlass. " Were it it de
sired, Mr. Wise will take excursions of five
hundred or one thousand miles without any
of the appliances for descend at pleasure but
those usually employed by teronnnts the
valve, fec - '"':.' .-.' " ' ' --';
By these lengthy excursions, say from Cin
cinnati or St Louis to the Atlantic seabourd
he wishes to demonstrate the entire feasibili
ty of crossing the Atlantic ocean, and circum
navigating the entire globe. ; Nor ia tbis all,
Mr. Wise has always eontented for the practi
bility of stering and propelling balloons in any
direction. ' The smaller of the two ballons
now constructing is designated to aid him in
proving the truthfulness of this theory. In
his recently published and highly interesting
work, be bas most clearly demonstrated tbe
possibility of "varying at will, from a straight
course, thirty or forty deg. from the latitude
of departure.": '
The enterprise has been' undertaking by
five scientific gentlemen, including Mr. Wise.
The cost of the two balloons now construc
ting will exceed $3,000, and one sufficiently
large and safe to cross the ocean and circum
navigate the globe would cost about $10,000
Such an one this company propose ultimately
constructing. Cincinnati Chronicle.
-''.-,'..',. A Scientific Excuse.
The editor . of the Watertown Register
thus apologizes for what he considers his short
comings. Ample would it be deemed even
before a Draco: "' '
' 'Our readers must excuse the lack of edi
torial matter, this week, as we have not been
able to pay as much attention to quill driving
as usual. . Our journeyman is sick; and we
are obliged to fill the station of boss, editor and
all hands, besides playing the devil generally
and have therefore confined ourself closely to
the case, during tbe week It is one of those
peculiar positions that often fall to tbe lot of a
country editor, and we therefore put on as good
a face as possible. . -
Ttjrh him Out. The portrait of Mr. Van
Burets so long conspicuous among the likeness
hanging in Tammanny Hall, was ejected
therefrom oft the occasion of holding the
Dickinson dinner, " '"So perish all tbe enemies
of Dickinsctn."" i' ; ;'- - .
Professor Webster's Confession of
tbe aiuraer of Ir. Parkinan. .
.: '- Boston, July 2.
At the meeting of the council this morning,
the case of ProC Webster was referred to a
committee. - Before the committee, at twelve
o'clock, appeared the Rev. Dr. Putnam, the
spiritual adviser of the condemned, with a pe
tition for the commutation of punishment to
gether with a confession that he killed Dr.
farkman. --, c--- ?-cr-
t The reverend gentleman prefaced the state
ment . by a few remarks relative to the man
ner in which that confession was made to him.
He stated that he had no previous acquaint
ance with Prof. Webster before called to act
in the capacity of his spiritual adviser. - In the
first few weeks of his visit he sought no ac
knowledgement of the prisoner. At length,
on the 23d May, he visited him in his cell, and
demanded of him, for bis own well being, that
he should tell tbe .truth iu regard to the mat
ter, and be acceeded to the request by making
a statement, which was now submitted to the
council.' It was is substance, as follows:
"On Tuesday, the 20th 'November, I sent
the note to Dr. Parkman, which it appears,
was carried by the boy Maxwell;' I handed it
to : Littlefield, unsealed; it was to ask Dr.
Parkman to call at my rooms on Friday, the
23d, after my lecture; he had become of late
very importunate for his pay; he had threat
ened me with a suit ; to put an officer into my
house, and to drive me from the professorship
if I did not pay him. The purport of my note
was simply to ask the conference; I did not
tell him in it what I could do, 01 what I had
to say about the paymtrnt; I wished to gain
for those few days a release from his solicita
tions to which 1 was liable every day, on oc
casions, and in a manner very disagreeable
and alarming and also to arrest for so long a
time, at least the fulfilment of. recent threats
of severe measures; I did not expect to be
able to pay him. when Friday should arrive;
my purpose was, if he should acceed to the
proposed interview, to state to him my em
barrassments, and utter inability to pay bim at
present ; to apologize for those things in my
conduct which had offended him to throw
myself upon his mercy to beg for further
time and indulgence, for the sake of my fam
ily, if not for myself, and to make as good
promises to him as I could have any hope of
keeping, f I did not hear from him on that day,
nor the next (Wednesday), but I found on
Thursday he had been abroad in pursuit of
me without finding me ; I imagined he had
forgotten the appointment, . or else did not
mean to wait for it; I feared he would come
in upon me at my lecture hour, or, while I was
preparing my experiments for it therefore, I
called at his bouse on that morning (Friday)
between 8 and 0 to remind him of my wish to
see bim at the college at half past one my
lecture closing at one I did not stop to talk
with him, for I expected tbe conversation
would be a long one, and as I had my lecture
to prepare for, it was necessary for me to
have my time, and also to keep my mind free
from exciting matters. ' - -
Dr. P. agreed to to call on me as I propos
ed; he came accordingly between half past 1
and 2 o'clock entering at tbe lecture room
door; I was engaged m removing some glasses
from my lecture room table into the room in
the rear called tbe upper labratory ; be imme
diately addressed me with great energy, "Are
you ready for me, sir? Have you got the
money?" I replied, "No, Dr. Parkman," and
was then beginning to state my condition and
my appeal to him, but he would not listen to
me, and interrupted me with much vehemence,
he called me a scoundrel and liar, and went ou
heaping on me the most bitter taunts and op
probrious epithets; while he was speakieg, he
drew a handful of papers from his pocket, and
took from among them my two notes and al
so an old letter from Dr. Hosack, written many
years ago, and congratulating him on bis suc
cess in getting me appointed professor of chem
istry. "You see," , said he, t, "I got you into
your office, and now. I will get you out of it
tie put back into bis pocket all the papers ex
cept the letter and the notes. . I cannot tell
bow long the torrents of- threats and invectives
continued, and I cannot recall to memory but
a small portion of what he said. At first 1
kept interposing, trying to pacify him, so that
I could obtain the object for which I sought
tbe interview ; but 1 could not stop bim, and
soon my own temper was up. I forgot every
thing, and forgot nothing but the sting of his
words. ' I was excited to tbe highest degree
ot passion, and while be was speaking and
gesticulating in the most violent sad meaacicg
manner, thrusting his letter and his fist into my
face, in my fury I seized whatever thing was
handiest, (it was a stick of wood) and dealt bim
an instantaneous blow, with all the force that
passion could give it i I did not know, 07 think,
or care, where I should hit bim, nor bow bard,
nor what the effect would be; it was on the
side of the head, and there was nothing to
break tbe force of the blow ; he fell instantly
to the pavement; there was no second blow;
I stooped down over him, and he seemed to
be lifeless; blood flowed from his mouth, and
I got a sponge and wiped it away ; I got some
ammonia and applied it to bis nose, but with
out enect; perhaps 1 spent ten - minutes in
trying to recussitate him, but I found he was
absolutely dead. : In my horror and conster
nation I ran instinctively to the doors and bolt
ed them the doors of the lecture room and
the labratory below and then what was I to
do? It never occurred to me to go out and
declare what had been done, and obtain as
sistance; I saw nothing but the alternative of
a successful movement and concealment of the
body, on the one hand and of infamy and per
dition on the other. - The first thing I did as
soon as I could do any thing, was to draw the
body into the private room adjoining; there I
took off the clothes and began putting them
into the fire, which was burning in tbe Upper
labratory; they were all consumed there that
afternoon, with papers, pocket book, and what
ever they contained ; I "did not examine the
pockets, nor remove any thing except the
watch; I saw that or the chain of it hanging
out; I took it and threw it over the bridge as
I went to Cambridge; my next move was to
get the body into the sink, which stands in the
small private room', by setting the body par
tially erect against the corner, and by getting
up into the sink myself; I succeeded in drawing
it up there, where it was entirely dismembered
it was quickly done as a work of terrible ne
cessity the only instrument was the knife
found by the officers in the tea chest, which I
kept for cutting corks. ' .' .
- I made no use of the Turkish knife 6s it was
called, at ''the trial that had long been kept
on my parlor mantle-piece in Cambridge, as a
curious ornament " My daughters frequently
cleaned it hence the marks of oil and whiting
.found on it I had lately brought it to Boston,
to get tbe silver sheath repaired. Wbitc di
membering the body, a stream of Cochituate
water was running into the sink, carrying off
the blood in a pipe that passed down tL rough
the lower laboratory there must have been a
leak in the pipe for the ceiling below was stain
ed immediately around it- There was a fir
burning in the furnace of the lower laboratory.
Littlefield was mistaken in thinking there had
never been a fire there, He had pabably
never kindled one, but I had done it myself
several times. ; I had done it that day f jr the
purpose of making oxygen gas. Tha head
and viscera, were put into that furnace that
dav and the fuel heaped on. 1 did not exam
ine at night to see to wnat aegree mey were)
consumed. Some of the extremities were put
in there, I believe, on, that day. The pelvis
and some of the limbs, perhaps, were all put
under the lid of the lecture room table, in what
is called the well a deep sink lined with kad.
A stream of Cochituate was turned into it and
kept running through it all Friday night. The
thorax was put into a similar well in tha low
er laboratory, which I filled with water, and
threw in a quantity ot potasn.wmcu i louna
there. This disposition of the ' remains was
not changed till after the.visit of the ofUcera
on Monday. . '''..-. ,'.."-.' .
When the body had thus been disposed of,
I cleared away all traces of what had teen
done ;. I think the stick with which the fatal
blow had been struck, proved to be a piece of
the stump of a large grape vine stiy two
inches in diameter, and two feet long. It was
one of several pieces which 1 had carried in
from Cambridge long before for the purpose of
showing the ett'ect of certain chemical fluids ia
coloring wood, by being absorbed into the
pores." The grope vine being a very porous
wood, was well adapted to this purpose. An
other longer stick had been used as intended,
and exhibited to the students;. this one had
not been used; I put it into the fire.
I lock up the two notes either from the ta
ble or the floor, I think' the table, close by
where Dr. Parkman had fallen. I s"zed an
old metallic pen lying. on the table and dash
ed it across the face, and through the signa
tures and put them in my pocket I do not
know why I did this rather than put them in
the fire, for I had not considered for a moment
what effect either mode of disposing of them
would have upon the mortgage or my indebt
edness to Dr. Parkman and the other persons
interested, and I had not yet given a single
thought to the question as to what account I
should give of the objects or result of my in
terview with JJr. farkman.. 1 never saw tue
sledge hammer spoken of by Littlefield, never
knew of its existence, at least I bave no recol
lection of it : ".
I left the college to go home, as late as six
o'clock." I collected myself as well as I could
trial I might meet my family and otheis with
composure. Un Saturday k visited my rooms
at the college, but made no cnange in ma de
position of the remains, and laid no plan as to
my future course." On Saturday evening I
read tbe notice in the Transcript respecting the
disappearance. I was then deeply impressed
with the necessity of immediately taking some
ground as to the character of my interview
with Dr. Parkman, for I saw that it must be
come known that I had such an interview, as
I had appointed it first by an unsealed note on
Tuesday, and on Friday I had myself called
at his bouse in open day, and ratified the ar
rangement, and had there been seen, and bad
probably been.overheard by the manservant;
I knew not by how many persons Dr. P. might
have been seen entering my rooms, or cow
(many persons he might have told by the way
wnere uc was gjuing, me uucincir huuiii, iu
all probability be known, and I must be ready
to explain it ' ' - - '. ' '
" The question excited me much, but on. Sun
day my course was taken. . I .would go into
Boston, and be the first to dsclai e myself the
person as yet unknown with whoml'r. P. had
made the appointment 'I- wouki take the
ground that I had invited him to ihe college,
to pay bim money, and that I had paid it; ac
cordingly I took the small note, and adding
interest, which it' appears I cast erroneously.
If I bad thought of this course earlier, I should
not bave deposited Pettee's check for $80- ia
the Charles River ' Bank on Saturday, but
should bave suppressed it as going so far to
make up the sum which I was to have profess
ed to bave paid (he day before, and which
Pettee knew I had by me at the hour of inter
view. : It had not occurred to me that I should
ever show the notes cancelled ia proof of it, or
I should.have destroyed the large note and let
it be inferred that it was gone with the, miss- ...
ing man, and should only have kept the small
one, which was all that I could pretend to have
paid. My single thought was concealment
and safety, every tiling else was incidental .
to that I was in no state to consider my ul-
r ' : a . r l 1. T
needed it so much, was of no account with mo
in that condition' of mind. It I- had designed
and premeditated the homicide ofDr.Piirkman
in order to get the' possession of tbe notes and
cancel my debt, I not only should not have
deposited Pettee's-check the next day, hut I
should have made some show of getting and
having the money the morning before; -I
should have drawn my money from tbe Bank
and taken occasion to mention to the Cashier,
that I had a sum to make up on that day for
Dr.Parkman, and the same to Henchman whea
I borrowed the ten dollars, I should Lavs re
marked that I was so much short of a large
sum that I was to pay Parkman; I borrowed
the money of Heachraan as mere pocket mon
ey for tht dav i If I had intended the homi
cide of Dr. Parkman, I should not havo made
the appointment with him twice, and each time
in so open a manner that other persons would
almost certainly know of it; I should not have'
invited him to my rooms 00 ah hour when tho
college would be full of students and others,
an hour when I was most likely to receive calls
from others, for that was the hour just after
the lecture. at which persons, having business
with me, or in'my rooms, were always direct
ed to call; I looked into ray rooms on Sunday
afternoon; but did nothing; after tho first visit
of the officers, I took the pelvis and some of
the limbs from the uppef well and threw tberqt
into the vault -under the privy; I took t'Q
tVinrai frnrri the well below.- and tracked it in
the' tea chestjas found; my" own impression!
has been that this was hot done till after the
second visit of the officers, which was on Toes
day; "but Kingsley's testimony shows that it
must have bteh sooner the perforation of the
thorax had! been made; by the knife, at she
time of removrog the viscera on STc anesday ; t
pnt on kindlings and made' a fire hi the fur
nace below, having first poked down the ashesf
some of the limbs, I cannot remember Which,-,
or how many were consutceJ, at that v-tSe;
this was the last I had to do wkh the remains;
(he tin box was dssijned to receive the thorax"