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sc Stfftismm: To village subscribers, $2 00 io office and mail subscriber*, : ; : ; 150 For a less t.me than one year, in the same proportion. Payment to be made in .Advance. Single copies, five cents. jry~ Produce, of all kinds, received on subscrip tion at the market prices. miSIHIESS DIRECTORY. CT'Cards inserted by the year at f 1 per line. Tailoring. mHE ened wuud respectful!} tender Jl his thank? V the cit sens of Mineral P-int and vicinity. for ; net favors, and inform them that be continue* buine-- at his old stand on H’gh ■ IJi... Street, where he will be pleased to receive a continuance of public favor. fr-y-Uentlemet’s Clothes cleaned and pressed on short notice. HENRY PRICE. August 10, IBr.-J. 4-itf . W. THOU AS, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, \*T”ihL attend to preparing the necessary papers for TT procuring Land Waanams, under the late act of Congress; and also, drawing Mortgages or other le gal instruments, and all other business appertaining to his off ce, or as an Attorney at Law. Office in the east Room of the Lower Floor'oflhe Court House, Mineral Point. M. VAN DUSES. U. TENDERS his services as PHYSICIAN *. SURGEON to th° inhabitants of Mineral Point and vicinity, and would inform his friends and the public, that he ha* removed his residence to the house formerly own ed and occupied by Col. 1). W. Jones, directly opposite the Masonic Ha t, and his office one door below the J Store of Burke Fairchild Esq., and two doors above the \ Post Office. Mineral Point, Aug. 23, Icji. : llocf. YTILLIAU SIII.OEiIIIAND, pgacTiras mxdicike, srauxav asn Kiowimav, IN MI N ERAL POINT, Wis. He keeps a good supply . of Drug* and Medicines. Office, three doors be low the Post Office, on High street. Residence over Fairchild's Store. LLOVD A WHEELER, GENERAL DEALERS in Fancy and Staple Dry r Goods, Groceries, Crockery and Hardware, High Street, Mineral Point. 33. rHAKI.ES LEGATE, OURVIVINO P ARTNER of the late firm of Parris & O Legale, onlinues a Land Agency business at his old stand, recently occupied for a short time bv the I firm.) Laad Warrants conslaully for sale. 2ltf. S V’U Eh EKA WFORD, JTTOKIHV XT Lltr aNDLISD ,GINT, MUIRII FOIST, WIS | v ITILL give prompt attention 1° all business enlrus VV tod to him Laud Warrants guaranteed to be . genuine, forsaleat the lowest market price 1.. .V], STRUNG, JUSTICE OP THE PE ACE—Franklin Highland P O. Wis., Will attend to the payment of Taxes. Convey ancinc. and suen other business as may be entrusted to him, with accuracy and despatch Franklin, lowa County, W is., Vug. 1651. iltf m. n. r nut fn, \TTORNEV AT I,AW, Counselor and Solicitor in Chancery, and Genera! Land Agent, Mineral Point, lowa Cos., Wis., will practice in the Filth Judicial Cir cuit, and the Supreme Court at Madison. Any business entrusted to him will receive prompt attention JOHAN A FVANS, ITASHIOJJ ABLE TAILORS, Mineral Point Wisconsin, solicit a share of public patronage. Their work will be done in the most f-.shionable style, and on reasona ble terms Shop on High street KT"CuUing di no to order, and warranted to fit. if properly made up. WHITNKV S.VII I 11. Dealer in merchandise, in general. Agent for the sale of Flour, Provisions, Patent Medicines, Ate , Ac. Mineral Point, Wisconsin. JOHN UII.TOT, ff 1 ENERAL DEALER in M rchapdise of all kinds tr 'I r- on the corner ot Ch-slnui and High -tieeis Mineral Point g o .c;u w . t BR, CN EVER At. Hi: VLKK in Family Gr-C' rie.r A Previa ■ ions. Nails 'Has*. Wooden W a re, Ac C3* - >•' opposite 'be .u .ty building?, mgb 'irerl, vine n Point. rfsgg-.-, 5 . I*. HIGIiEE, nentivl. Practices in Minera P dnt, I'la'.tevilk-, and Shullt’ourg CJCiuttrt, y GEO. D. WII.IIEK, Jl. 0., PHYSICIAN A SFEGEOS. Ornca —Two doors west ol the Post Office, Mineral Point. Win. K. 11. PIT FOR n, SURGEON DENT.'ST. sells Drugs, Medicines, Paints, i >ils, Ac , at the Mineral Point Drug Store. Dad. J NO. 11. VIV IA A, IJHVSICIAN, 'ORGEON, AND ACCOUCHER,— High street. Mineral Point, w is I. I*. 51 AVI 1 I.T ON. VI. 11. PHYSICIAN ANDBLHURON. Franklin. lowa County, Wis v5-nT-ly. Wlt.llAVi I. TEKIHNE, ATTCRSn AND r rjStUOR *T LAW ,M 1 ub mist, Viroqua, Bsd AX tx>. Wis. n3Tv5 lypdm in:\j.\ 11v t;. Miirr, • rimt mud is Drv Goods.Gr cen—-. 1 rovisions.Drugsaa i Medicines, Steel-W are, l.um j< r and Shingles. Yellow Slone, W ?c- nsin. v 5 nl If- MEIt.AAM.IA HOI SE, BY J BARNARD, —Franklin, Wis. No eierie ns will be spareil to ensure the comfort u( Travellers and others who may give him a call. (Sept. 16, 1651,] ntiilf aGAI.ENA HOTEL, BY GEORGE TYLER, Nos. island IS-1 Main Street. Galena, Illinois CTT~Haggsge tak-a to and fn ra the Boats free of Charge. n4-6tn ( HAKI.ES COTTEHELL, rrT"The only gisnl and ch,ap HOUSE, Slfiß, and ORMAMENTAL PAINTER. Wagons. Buggies and Sleighs, Banners, Regalias and Transparencies, Painted with neatness and despatch. Paper-hanging, vv Idle-washing and Wail-staining, done in the best style. Country orders punctually attended to. Resi I'Doc one doer north of the Franklin House, Mineral Point, Wis. 11-lyr axm tom. i. e. xiKxoii. COHIt A UES.SUORE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, JfmeAt Primt, W ot.sxts. HAVE associated themselves together for the purpose of practsing the Law, and wnl give prompt alien ties to ait business entrusted to their care. Orrics, over ihe Wisconsin Tribune Office, l aud Warrants bought au sold. Lauds entered and Warrants locate'! for persons residing at a distance, on 4h. most favorable terms Busines- letters will ta allcasesbe answered by return of mail. ■XT’ For the present Mr. fX’BB will spend a portion of fais times’ Franklin .Highland, P. O. where ho will at tend to as heretofore. A Card tojthe Ladies. V-V" r-. oud- i, } W jj -t Would respectfully announce to the Ladies of Mineral Point end vicinity, that she has just received the lat- st stvle of BONNETS, with the most fashionable materials for manufac turing the same ; oosisUag of It/irf-S. 6’f/'V.s Piicnts ami F/cnrrrs, of every desrripti n worn. She would also say that she has received a lull sol of CRESS, CLOAK AND CAPE PATTERNS, which will be furnished to those working at the business, for a small remuneration. * .* Ladies, plerte call and see our patterns — Goods at all time* freely shown. Mineral Point. Oct. 11, 1552. 51tf ! ’ Canisters -J lb-, each Imp- nal. i >n s- w-Wand Black feas-chotce tF - . Chests lin renal Teas. FRESH do V uog Hrwvo, [1 ' i ** • Goiipovdff, TEAS. 1 1 !•>* > ai-.ysimp. a. Y. H. Teas fXf jl’ lb. do do da do. . r -- - -. iir. 1 Fine, - ,i r--c'd at May l?sd. GKO W. OOsk’-. * ABCIA A'D .M lIUEKS T, - ' >R District pcho-vl Libraries; —also, a X torimeot oL BLA NSr*. for **ie at Tmh Ovnci. BY BLISS & CHANEY. PoctVIJ. zrzc ._x*rsr-===== t=l:- ■ ■ ~~t— —- . ’ From the Kenosha Tribune. STANZAS. On. where is real pleasure found, Say is it in the giddy round. Of life - *: delusive ray, Where every wish, and every hope. Just like the lovely flowers droop, And die without decay ? I've sought for pleasure in the smiles Of short lived friendship's fatal wiles, But found no solace there; In glittering gems I've placed my trust, Alas! they crumble in the dust. And leave me in despair. I've sought for pleasure in retreat, And often have I found it sweet To leave the world awhile, But weariness soon made me say, Here is no pause, I must away ; Twill nl my ears beguile. Ive soughtlfor bliss in gay attire. Feeding the mind with vain desire. For pleasure and for show, But sad am! sickening to my heart, I hade those fond desires depart; And to oblivion go. I've sought for bliss in vain on earth, For scenes of merriment and mirth, Are fleeting as a dieam, Which flies-he .ce without delay, At or before the break of day, Down forty's idle stream. There's naught on earth can bliss afford, But faith in’God's most holy word, And practising the ways, Of those wBo followed Christ alone, Who now surround his heavenly throne, tinging redeeming lays. Battle of the Peketonica- Fayette, Nov. 29, 1552. Efinoas or Wisconsin Tribune . Aly attention having lately been called to an account of the Bottle of the Peketonica, written by Charles Bracken, and published in your paper, in which I think there are some material mistakes, and ha\ ing been requested by a number oi persons to write my recollection of that affair, and point out wherein I think Air. Bracken's recollection does not serve him correctly; 1 have thought proper, in justice to the dead as well as the living, and also injustice to the correctness of History, for which that account was intended, to comply with the request which has been made. In doing so. I do not wish t j detract in the slightest degree from the merit ol any one who acted in that affair. I was quite young at the time, and it being the first enif.iseroeiit ;hat I was e.er in. eveiy inci dent a'uio.-t nidehbly fixed upon rry mind The relation of tin affair, by Air. Bracken, is cor rect, as I iccoJlect it, until he says, *T being sec ond in command, was ordered to the scene oi the murder with eleven men." Air. Bracken might have been ordered to the scene of the murder, but he certainly did not go in command of the detach ment, nor in company with them, until within about four miles this side of Fort Hamilton, (now Wiota where he aad Vanwagoner were overtaken by the detachment. They (bracken and \an wagoner) having left Fort Defiance in advance of the detachment. Bracken appearing to be displea sed at some of the movements, mounted his horse and said It is time we were off; all that are go ing w ith me. come on upon w hich Vanwagon er joined him and they started off. In about hall an hour the detachment were mounted and ready to march ; upon which R. H. Kirkpatrick was chosen the commander for the occasion. The de tachment then proceeded to Fort Hamilton, and arrived there about( twelve o'clock at night. Next morning, just as ;he detachment was ready to proceed, some difficulty occurred about the com- mand of the detachment; Air. Bracken claiming the command by virtue of his Second Lietenant ship at Fort Defiance, which was objected to by D. AI. Parkison, (which was the commencement of the memorable difficulty between these gentle men—Bracken and Tarkison.) Alaj Kirkpatrick j then declined taking lurther command of the de tachment. unless he was re-chosen, upon which an election was gone into and Alaj. Kirkpatrick (as he was commofily called) was unanimously elected. The company then proceeded to the farm and found the murd red men as described by Lieu tenant Bracken, with the exception of the headless body of Npafford, which had no wounds upon it as I recollect. The position of the body, when found, indicated thut be had been running as the rest of his comrades, when he was shot. Whether he killed an Indian before he himself was shot, 1 ' think no one could ~.t [I. Spencer did not cross the river as stated by Bracken. Million was the man who crossed it, at the same place and the same tme that .Mcllvain and John Bull crossed it, and was immediately pursued by the Indians in hot chase—one ol them on horse-back, and so close was he pursued by the Indian on horse back, that he. Million, was offen compelled to swim the river to escape him. He swam the river five times during the chase and was pursued to within five miles of the Fort, which he reached in a full lope (usin? a western phrase) and in safety, al':er hav ing been pursued by fiv e Indians, one of them up on a horse, lor ten miles, and having run tilteen nines w who it ever breaking the lope, as he says. Spencer co dd not swim, consequently took down the river under its bank, Dll coming to the mouth of a branch, where he remained until an Indian (mounted on the horse with which they had been plowing) came upon him He shot the Indian off the hors- and ma le hi# escape across the river bottom into the woods, in the direction of the Fort.. The remainder of the history oi thi> man I believe is correctly given by Lieutenant Bracken, except that told upon being foam! that he had killed another India;; during his iambics in the w oods. The a'.. ?:on that Lieu'enar.t Bracken makes to the young mar. nam-d Black, is correct, so far. at least. a fnvit g . presentiment ;;.at he saou <i be kiiie; in -he firs* engagement. He and I were about the same age. (he being one year older) ’ were friends ard messmates. He communicate] his fore booings o; ucath to me. the night we marc he-/ on Fort tefianee to Fort Hamilton; — He aad I h ' z been made the advance guard of the Detachment. I have no recollection of the tailing of his mare. I presume, however, it was so. It was a horse, however, that he rode. The history of the matter I believe is very cor rectly given by Lieutenant Bracken, from the kill ing of Apple up to the point where he advanced within gun shot, and says, -‘with the report of my gun, I sent forth a shout that told the General and my comrades yet in the rear, that 1 had pro cured the lirst scalp. ?! Here I think Lieutenant Bracken's memory is greatly at fault. I was near the Lieutenant when he shot, and so was General Dodge and some eight or ten others, and the In dians were certainly from one bundled and fifty to two hundred yards distant. They fired back, it is true, but without effect, and if any scalp was j taken, or even an Indian touched with a ball, I have no recollection of the fact. "Lis true, they | sometimes fell at the fire of the guns, but got up and went off. jumping and hopping in a taunting way. 1 At this point, while a short consultation was j taking place, as to the test point of crossing,!"apt. ; Jontry and D. M. Parkison swam the river on | their horses, just in the rear of the Indians, and j took a position upon a high eminence upon the opposite side of the river, so as to overlook the 1 grove the Indians were making for. We were a -1 gain joined by Parkison at the time Lietenant B. speaks of. Capt. Jentry, in attempting to reach ; us at another poiut, mired his horse down in a | swamp, got his gun wet and was unable to re- join us. The next point at which I think Lieut. Brack en’s memory is at fault, is where the General is addressing his men, in which he is made to say ; among other things, “ unbutton your shirt collars, ! tighten your belts, Ac."* I have no recollection of any such orders, and from Gen. Dodge's usual coolness and discretion upon such occasions, 1 should think he would hardly give such orders.— Again. I think his memory is at fault when he quotes the General as saying, “ charge in boys.— damn them, charge in,"* and ‘'there, by God, 1 kdied him myselt," &c. At another point I think his memory is more at fault than usual. That is upon the charge, where he would make it appear 1 (if I read correctly) that he “advanced into the midst of the Indians, discharged his gun, turned the breech and struck at a warrior he saw lying under the bank before him. but seeing another very industriously snapping at him. he then fell bacK. re-loaded and advanced side by side with the gallant Wells;" evidently conveying the idea that ; he had done all this before the gallant Wells had , got up at all. Now. all who were there well know that the gallant Wells was among the first ! upon the bank, and was shot instantly upon his ! charge upon the bank. The charge was simulta neous, by every member of the detachment, and I there could not have been more than a few seconds I difference between any of the men's arriving upon I the bank. All behaved well; in lact bravely— Lieut. Bracken with the rest—bat I have vet to ' learn that he henaved any oe’ter man any one else; n. lact, I am certain there was no room for invid ious distinction. I write this with no unkind or unpleasant feel ings towards Lieut. Bracken; but simply that justice may be done, history be correct, and that Lieut. Bracken's request (contained in a note ap | pended to his account of the affair.) together with the request of a number of other persons, may be j complied with. I The Indian that was shot in attempting to make 1 his escape across the pond, as spoken of by Lieut, i Bracken, was shot by W. W. Woodbridge, the Adjutant of Gen. Dodge's squad, with a pistol.— I was standing near him at the time. The num ber of scalps taken upon that occasion, according | to my memory, was fourteen, instead of seventeen I is Mr. Bracken has it. : Upon looking over the list of names which Mr. : Bracken has, I do not see that of W. W. Wood- I bridge. This is an omission. It should be there, j The remainder ol the narative, I believe, is cor -1 rect. PETER PARKISOX. [•ln justice to Mr. Bracken, we would say that he informed us. after the publication of thenar -1 rative, that the compositor had here misread the I copy, and had not got the language of (Jen. Dodge | correct. We do not recollect the precise language he said he used. —En. Tkib ] A Quiet Man Disposing of an Insult. —Lord Mark Kerr who distinguished himself at the battle of Fontenay. was a I good but eccentric officer and a terrible duelist. His debut was reraarkaole. He was a lad of slight effeminate appearance, apparently void of spirit. His father, the Marquis ofLothain. when he brought him to London to join his regiment—the i Cold-stream Guard—requested the Colo nel, who was his particular friend to watch over him to see he submitted to no improp er liberties. and to instruct him in the wav he should go in case he had the mis fortune to he insulted. Those were the days of hard drinking, “prodigious swear ing,” according to my Uncle Toby, and much brutality of manners. This pacific young scion of nobility soon became a butt at mess, a stoppeg to hang their practical jokes on until a captain of a year’s stand ! ing. actually threw a glass of wine in his face. He still said nothing, but wiped his face with his handkerchief, and took no further notice of the insult he had receiv ed The Colonel thought it was high time to interfere, and invited him to breakfast ! tete a-tete. on the following morning at nine o’clock Lord Mark arrived punctu ally. at his breakfast with perfect compos ure and spoke but little. At length the ■ commanding officer broke ground—“ Lord Mark" said he. "I must speak to you on rati.er a delicate subject, but as your fath er’s friend.am compelled to wave ceremony: Captain L yesterday morning pub : holy passed an affront on you which both your honor and the credit of the regiment require you to notice.” “ What do you think sir. I ought to do? inquired Lord Mark ’ ' Call ou him for an explanation." rejoined the Colonel It is I fear too late for that, replied the young ensign, "T shot • him at eight this morning and if you will take the trouble to look out of the front window you will see him on a shutter !” n* “ I’ll take yocr part.” as the dog said when he robbed the cat of a portion of her dinner. MINERAL POINT, WIS., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1852. illisccllann. MARIA, THE OEPHAN, OR— THE FORCE OF PRINCIPLE. BI A Lint OF THE COUXTHI. A funeral procession passed slowly tip Tremout street, and entered the venera ble burial place attached to Stone Chanel. There were deposited the remains of Mrs. Lawrence and with them the pecuniary , dependence of two orphan daughter- Mrs. Lawrence,until a year previous to her death, hail lived in the greatest opulence ; but. unfortunately, her husband became surety for a friend to a large amount, \ which he was obliged to redeem. This, added to many other losses, left him with a comparatively small pittance for him self and family. This blow was too great for him. What! give up his fine residence, 1 his splendid furniture and carriage, and come down to the vulgar method of living ? No ! he could not —he would not—and the grief occasioned by this change in his fortunes soon caused his death. His wife bore her trials with Christian like fortitude. With a small life annuity which she possessed, she found an agree able home in the family of a distant rela tive. She devoted her time to the im provement of her eldest daughter Eliza beth, and in watching the unfolding beau ties of her little rose-bud, as she fondly termed Maria The struggle of a noble soul, contend ing against affliction, is often too great for its frail tenement. With Mrs. Law rence, the chord which had been too tight ly strung, snapped suddenly assunder ; its etherial tones still thrilling the hearts of its auditors. The family with whom Mrs. Lawrence resided kindly offered to take charge of Elizabeth, (now nine years of age) and bestow on her a good education. Eat Maria—who would supply the place of a mother to her? No one seemed inclined to take the care of a child two years old. How ephemeral the friends of the pres ent day ! They flutter around the glare and splendor of wealth, and ba-k in its sunshine; but, extinguish its blazonry, and where are they ? Like the insect they personate, they fly to some new illu mination and are seen no more. Accordingly, none offerd to supply the place of mother to Maria, until Mr and Mrs Harris, who had been befriended hy Mrs Lawrence in her days of prosperity, and were distantly related, came forward. They resided about thirty miles from Boston. “ Twill be but a poor place for a gen tleman’s darter,” said 31 rs. Harris; “but perhaps when she gets bigger, some of her Boston relations will o ske a lady of her.” Maria was happy in her new house.— A ride iu a waggon was just as agreeable as a carriage. Aunt Hannah’s turn over and little cake on baking-day pleased her as well as the rich confectionary which her mamma used to give her The check ed linen frock in summer, the red and blue worsted in winter, were quite as com fortable as the satin and merino to which she had been accustomed ; and tho’ she said "Stick ! stick ! Aunt Hannah.” when the coarse woolen stockings were put on , her delicate feet, she soon forgot it, in looking at the boys as they coasted down the steep hill at the back of aunt Han nah’s house. In childhood, the country seems pecu liarly adapted to the unfolding capacities. The youthful exuberance of spirits has free scope. All nature, animal and veg etable bursting into life and activity, ap pears to coincide with the expanding mind hotter than the confined limits of the city. Maria’s growth was remarkably forward iShe pursued her studies at the district school, from books furnished by her sister Elizabeth, who regularly made a long vis it at aunt Hannah s in the summer sea son. and imparted all the knowledge her sister’s mind could receive. These visits proved of great benefit to Maria, who, though unacquainted with city life, was an elegant little girl, and readily distin guished from any child in the village. No change occurred in Maria’s situa tion until the summer in which she com pleted her eleventh year. During the re . cess of her school, one fine afternoon iu August, a splendid summer vehicle leis urely passed the school-house. The chil dren with one accord dropped the most profound courtesies, when a joyful cry of “Sister Elizabeth! sister Elizabeth !” caused the carriage to stop. A gentleman alighted and inquired for Miss Lawrence Maria ran hastily forward, and in a few moments was seated by her sister. After a mutual interchange of affec tion between the sisters. Elizabeth intro duced to Maria. Mr Arthur EUingwood. us her brother. Maria's surprise at first, overcame her natural politeness, but soon recovering herself, she greeted him with her sweetest smiles, and imprinted a kiss on his cheek which was warmly recipro cated • Oh. sister ! why did you not come be fore ? My roses all bloomed and faded, without you having one ; my strawberry bed was loaded with the finest fruit, but | they all decayed ; I would not touch them till you come. Then I picked and | picked wortleberries till I was tired I don’t know how many times I have gath ered fresh bushes and flowers to adorn your favorite little chamber, —but ’t was all iu vain. Aunt Hannah had a letter from Boston the other day. but would not tell me the contents ” -The very counterpart of yourself, sweet Elizabeth.” said Arthur, "artless and unsophisticated.” The conversation was interrupted by their arrival at Mr Harris's, and the greetings of aunt Harris were long and ; loud. ••You've got a sweet critter for your wife, Mr Eilingwood. : said she; -so clev er and obligin’. And so you're going to ! carry off mv Maria “Oh ! I'm going to Boston ! I'm goins ; to Boston!—am I sister?—am I broth er V : said she. as in ecstacy she danced round the apartment ; but, observing the sober countenance of aunt Hannah, she said in a subdued tone —"I hate to leave you. dear aunt: could you go with us, I should be happy.” Alaria's dress was arranged as speedi ly as possible. Airs. Ellingwood. antici pating the difficulty of procuring suitable clothing in the country, had made her purchases before leaving the city. If Alaria looked pretty in her rustic garb, she was certainly beautiful in a more modem and fashionable dress. Her friends gazed on her with admiration, and for the first time iu her life, she felt a touch of vanity. Elizabeth noticed it. “I think,” said she, turning to Airs Harris, “Alaria must carry one dress of your manufacture with her. If the change in her circumstances prove too great for | her young mind, a reference to this may be beneficial.” “Thank you for the hint, dear sister,” said Alaria ; -a dress will not be necessa ry to remind me of my kind friends, and the happy days I’ve past here. Yet 1 should be happy to have one.” “All ! dear child,” said Airs Harris, “you know nothing what kind of a place your’re going to. I’ve been to Boston twice in my life, and I was confused. I did not know what to do. Like as not you’d be ashamed of me, if I should go to | see you.” “Oh, never ! dear aunt. Ashamed of my earliest friend !” The time of departure at length arriv ed. Maria was delighted with the novel- i ty of her situation. She combined much brilliant wit and good sense, (a case of rare occurrence by the way) and her re marks drew many a smile from her kind brother and sister. To provide for Alaria was a favorite project with them. As soon as practicable after marriage, they had conducted her to her new abode. She was placed under the care of a private tutor until sufficiently advanced to enter school on equal footing with young ladies of her own age, whom she rapidly out stripped iu tho solid and ornamental brandies. # # # * * # The sun strove in vain to pierce the murky atmosphere of the city ; the lone pavement echoed the footfall of some sol- i itary pedestrian ; the occasional clatter of window shutters the rattling of baker's and milkmen’s carts ; the lazy smoke curling sluggishly from the towering chimneys, indicated the inhabitants would soon arise from their slumbers, and pur sue their daily avocations. Ere the city had assumed the appear ance of life and activity, a covered wagon drove to the door of Mr Ellingwood, aud the feeble tinkle of a bell brought a ser vant to the door. • Is Mr Ellingwood at home !” “Home! yes—but won’t be up this hour. You can come down to the kitch | en fire to warm, if you will wait till he’s : up,” “Well, 111 got my wife first. Won't you help mo out of the wagon with this ’ere kag and trunk ?” The servant stared ; but thinking some thing hail been ordered from the country, he assented. “There, wife; yon go into the house.— j This man will show you afire,while 1 put Betty up to some stable ’ i The woman remained iu the entry a long time ere the servant made his ap ' poarance ; then, with a scornful glance, he inquired -what she wanted.” “ Want 1 I want to sec Airs. Elling wood or Alaria. I’m cold iu the bargain, aud want to go to a fire.” “Yes'm,” said the servant, rather more respectfully; and opening a door, dis | covered Alaria at a table covered with drawing materials. Alaria rau hastily forward. “Why, aunt Hannah, how do you do ? When did you arrive ?” “Oh, dear me! I’m so tired and chill ed I don’t know what to do We started long enough afore daylight this morning.” Maria rung the bell, and ordered tea with accompaniments. “I ’ alieve you never drink coffee, aunt ; breakfast for the family will not be ready this long time ; I rise very early to im prove iu drawing.” “Early ! why, I’ve had my breakfast, aud cleared it ail away fore sunrise, all . this winter.” “Should you like to go up stairs, now ?” said Maria, when Mrs. Harris had de spatched her breakfast. “Lud a marcy ! how many stairs you i have got ! All carpeted too ! Why, it seems as if I could pick them 'ere roses ; off, and smell on ’em. Pray, Alaria, what are them black men, holding them chairs for ?” -They are bronze images, aunt, placed . in those chains, and the}* are used to light the entry and staircase.” Alaria tapped gently at her sister's door, and announced Airs. Harris. “You arrived early,” said Airs Elling wood, after the usual salutations "Yes. yes. You know I'm bright and arly. My husband had a lot of apples and sarse to sell ; we thought if they would sell here, twould pay for carting, so we concluded to kill two birds with ! one stone, and came together ’Tis eigh teen years since I was here. You was’nt bieger. Airs. Ellonwood, than my Lucy, who'll be five next J une I ’spose there are a great many new things to be seen : and Alaria, I spose you know all the way about." The blood tinged Maria's neck and face ; she exchanged glances with her sis ter. but made no other remark than—"l shall be very happy to make aunt Harris . pass the time agreeably.” -Yes. yes ; 1 knew you would—my hus band thought like enough you would be ashamed of us, but I told him you was dreadfully altered then, for you went alt round our town last summer, and called on all cur old acquaintances ” VOL. YL—NO. 9. ‘’Ah !” thought Maria,-I shall have to survey that dress of my childhood many timei this week Mrs. Harris little thinks of the difference between our city and her native village.” “What a nice baby you have got. Mrs Ellingwood Pooty cretur: what has aunty got for it. dear, said Mrs Harris, extracting a huge nutcake from her reti cule. ‘"Oh !” said Mrs. Ellingwood. “I do not allow her to eat solid food—she is on ly eight months old ” “Ea ! 1 always feed my babes at three months sartain, 1 forgot to tell you I bro't you a kag of June butter ’Tis as jailer as your marigolds used to be, Maria.” “Just like yourself, aunt Hannah, al ways making presents,” said Mrs, Elling wood. Mrs Harris declined going down to breakfa>t. “She could amuse herself nicely by looking out of the window,” she said M rs. Ellingwood and Maria were plac ed in a sad dilemma Maria was now seventeen, and. in conjunction with her sister, had issued cards of invitation for a large party the ensuing Thursday. To get rid of their warm-hearted, though un couth visitors, was equally hopeless What could be done ? Her remarks would attract much attention, and the stamp of having a herd of vulgar rela tions, be impressed on them by their nu merous acquaintances. Mr. Ellingwood would be mortified—Henry Williams who had solicited Maria’s hand in vain, would exult—and one. dearer to Maria than all others, would be present, to see. and per haps hear them There was ample time to arrange Mrs Harris’s dress ; and if Maria could deli cately intimate the impropriety of making remarks, all would, perhaps, pass off well in a crowd Mrs. Harris, much to the an noyance of .Mrs. Ellingwood and Maria, walked from one apartment to the other, made absurd remarks on all she saw ; of fered to wash up the dishes, or anything in the world that wauld help ; and when entreated to sit down, would saj r—"Mar ey.no! I’m so used to strriu’ about; 1 should go fast to sleep : besides, there is so much passing, I should keep jumping up all the time to look out.” The eventful evening for the party at last arrived. The company, a most beau tiful assembly, met in rooms splendily furnished and brilliantly lighted. All pas sed off well for a time, and Mrs Elling wosd and Maria were inwardly congratu lating themselves, when Mr Harris, find ing his quid troublesome, and seeing no convenience for depositing it.(the rooms being heated by a furnace.)rose and walk ed to a window filled with the rarest exo tics Here he espied a porcupine, with its hyacinth quills, just peeping forth, (then an object of much curiosity.) which serv ed his purpose nicolj r . It would have passed off unobserved had not Mrs. Her ris exclaimed— “ Why. Joseph ! Maria won’t thank you for spitting her flowers all over.” “1 only spit in ti.at green thing filled with rushes,” said Mr. Harris. The buzz ceased Their tones of voice so discordant, produced a death like si lence. Mrs Ellingwood preserved her equanimity, and by the timely aid of friends, the company was restored to its wonted tone, when Mrs Harris suddenly jumped up and said . -Miss Ellingwood shan’t I blow out some of these lamps ? I rekon ’tis a pity to waste so much ile ” Mrs. Ellingwood had refreshments an nounced immediately, and led the way to the refectory. This movement spared her the mortification of observing the general I titter which prevailed. Mr. Mrs. Har tis, not being acquainted with the rules of t, mad ■ th< ir way as fast as p >a sible. and though Maria endeavored to keep them back, they seemed more anx ious "to see what was going on,” as they said to the manifest discomfiture of satin and gauze. To gaze at the table was excusable; loaded with every delicacj' of the season, sparklinir with the richest plate and cut glass which reflected back the numerous j lights, till ail seemed lost in brilliancj-, an assemblage of youth and beautj- fasbiona blj' dressed, and in the gayest spirits im aginable: the delicious strains of music , O ’ which ever and anon burst on the ears, would rivet the attention of those long accustomed to such scenes ; as for Mr & Mrs. Harris, good souls, they thought I themselves in fairy land, and did not dare speak, till Maria presented Mrs Harris with an ice, which caused her to ejacu late— “ Why. Maria, child, haven’t you got over your old trick of eating frozen milk ? Don’t you remember how you used to sly into the dairj’ and get it to eat ? ’Tis the worst thing in the world for cholic.” Poor Maria 1 she was thunderstruck.— A general smile ran round the apartment, save where some benevolent countenance manifested the utmost pity for Maria At length Maria came forward . “ I deem it due to my friends. Mr and ? Mrs. Harris, to state, that to them 1 was indebted for a home in rnj' childhood.— When thrown an orphan on the wide world for protection, they kindly nourished me like an own child, and though to you, dear brother,” said she. laying her hand on his arm. “I am under obligation for my pres ent advantages, for an introduction to the refinements of life, to the flowery paths of literature, and the mysteries of science ; 1 though you have opened anew world to my view, my gratitude to each of you is unbounded, and equally strong Yes. the reminiscences of my childhood are among the most pleasing of my recollections, and memory binds them still closer, when be holding the heart lessness of many friend ships since contracted,” Admiration fiiied the hearts of ail pre 5 sent They despised their own littleness and even gazed with pleasure on the per sons of Mr and Mrs Harris, who locked 'extremely bewildered at finding themsel ves thus publicly noticed. SRa&a m sstomtortM®: One square, (1. lines or less) cne insertioe, $ 1 00 Each additional insertion, : ; : ; 50 < >ne year, 10 OO Half a column, fo* six month*. : : 12 OO For one year, lb OO One column, for six months, : : : : 18 00 for one year. 30 0O 1 Leaded r, before marriages, 3 cen's a line for eacn luserUuu. ■■i i Mhy did Maurice Sfanwood gaze so fondly at Maria that evening.as she glided about, imparting happiness toall around her ? Why did he listen so intently as she accompanied tne piano with her clear, mu sical voice ? Why did he linger bv her side till the last carriage rolled from the door, and then reluctantly take his de | parture ' He had long been secretly at tached to Maiia, but having frequently declared he would ascertain the disposi tion of his intended wife previous to mar riage. he had delayed his proposals, “tho* the powerful artillery of the eye. and the thousand nameless signs in love’s progress had expressed as much, nay even more, than words could possibly have done.” Mr and Mrs Harris remained a week in the city, and were delighted with Mar- who showed them every thing of note in the city, from the State House to the menagerie. They returned home loaded with presents tor their little ones, and an invitation tu make an annu al visit. In the course of a few months Maurice Stanwuod and Maria were united They make a visit every summer to uncle Jo seph and aunt Hannah, to whom Maurice declares himself indebted, in part, for his sweet wife; justly remarking that the seeds of benevolence and ingenuousness sown in her breast, would not have vege tated so luxuriantly in a city atmosphere. Maria still preserves the dres l worn in childhood, and when tempted to cherish affectation and pride, finds a check in view ing thi> talisman. She takes great pleas ure in improving and training the man ners of the little Harris’s, one of whom she keeps constantly with her. Thr Snake and the Crocodile. The following thrilling account of an engagement between a boa constrictor and a crocodile in Java, is given by an eye witness : It was one morning that I stood beside a small lake, fed by one of the rills from the mountains. The waters were clear as crystal, and everything could be seen to the very bottom. Stretching its limbs close over this pond, was a gigantic teak tree, and in its thick, shining, evergreen leaves, lay a huge boa, in an easy coil, tak ing his morning nap Above him was a powerful ape of the baboon species, a leer ing race of scamps, always bent on mis chief. Now the ape. from bin position, saw a crocodile in the water, rising to the top, exactly beneath the coil of the serpent Quick as thought he jumped plump upon the snake, which fell with a splash into the jaws of the crocodile. The ape saved himself by clinging to a limb ot the tree, but a battle royal immediately ensued.— The snake, grasjed in the middle by the crocodile, made the water boil by his furi ous contortions. Winding his fold round the body of bis antagonist, he disabled his two hinder legs, and by his contractions, made the scales and bones of the monster crack. The water was speedily tinged with the blood of both combatants, yet neither was disposed to \ icld. They rolled over and over, neither being able to gain a de cided advantage. All the time the cause of mischief was in a slate of the highest cc stacy. lie leap and up and down the branch es of the tree, came several times close to the scene of the fight, shook the limbs of the tree, uttered a yell, and again frisked about. At the end of tea minutes a si lence began to come over the scene. The holds of the serpent began to be relaxed and though they were trembling along the back, the head hung lifeless in the water. The crocodile aUo was still, and though only the spines of his back were visible, it was evident that be. too. was dead The monkey now perched himself on the lower limbs of the tree, close to the dead bodies, and amused himself for ten minuths in making all sorts of faces at them. This seemed to be adding insult to injury One of my companions was standing at a short distance, and taking a stone from the edge of the take.hu 'cd it at the ape lie was totally unprepared, and as it struck him on the side of the head, ho was instantly tipped over, and fell upon the crocodile A few bounds, however, brought him ashore and taking to the tree, he speedily disappeared among the thick branches. As the Lafayette train was pitch ing along the other day. at a most terri ble rate it was bailed from a farm bouse with loud shouts of ‘Stop, stop !’ The bell was rung—the whistle scream ed—the train was stopped. What is wanted V asked the conduo tor. ‘Why 1 said the man, ‘me and my old woman wants to go with you 1 ‘Well.’ said the conductor, ‘get aboard, get aboard.’ ‘ But we ain't near ready yet. My old woman has just begun to dress, and wants you to wait.' There was a perfect explosion. The ladies tittered, the men screamed, the con ductor looked blank, and shouted ‘‘go a head " The passsengers begged him to wait until the woman dressed, and one gentleman shouted. "Come on with your wife. I ll Look her dress,’ and the train vamosed. VVho will dare say that women don’t claim their rights in this country, where a whole train is stopped to give a woman a chance to put on her becomings ? West ern women against the world. If she had z t hold of the conductor she would .’avo made him wait. £E3~* How much are wc indebted to ao ident 1 Pythagoras wed the invention of music to the sound of a blacksmith's ham mer—Newton, Lis first gravitation, to the fail of an apple. Voltaire tells us that Milton not his first ideas of Paradise Lost from an Italian burlesque, styled Adamo, or the Fall of Man —Goldsmith’s comedv She Moons to Oonqur r, wa> suggested b 7 an a ' dent which occured to tmn On bis way to college.