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G:-f Brtsinesr ; Dircttorg.
SOA'S OF TEMPER AXCE.
." Fort Stevenson Division. No. 4 3J Sta
ted meetings, every Tuesdey evening at the Division
. Room ia the old Northern Exchauge .. .. -
. "I- 'CADETS OP TEMPEttiXck '
'""Fort Stovcnson Section, IVo, 102 meets
" tveryTharaday evening ia the Hall of the Sons of Tem
perance. 1 " I. O. O. F.
"CrOZlirtn LoAzc, Ifo. TT. meets at the Odd
Follews Hall, in Miirehndse'e building, every Saturday
.evening. :. : t - '
' ROBERTS, HUBBARD fe CO,
- - 4 - . . i ,,t-. jnnupcromrns or
. 4 Copper, Tin and Sheet-Iron, Ware,
"Stoves, "Wool, Hides, ileep-pclts, ltc(it
- - Old .Copper,' Old Stoves, fcc., fcc Also,
ALL SORTS OF GENUINE YANKEE NOTIONS.
-Pease's Brick Block, IVo. 1.
Fremont, Sandusky Co. Ohio. ' 32
849. ' ' liio.
i-ii: , n n. 'Me CUIiliOCII,"
? bkUGS,' MEDICINES-.. PAINTS. DYESTITFFS,
BOOKS, STATIONARY, &e.
' ' FREMONT, OHIO.
KALl'lI P. HllKLAAD,
: ' A TTORNEY ad Counsellor at law and Solicitor
- in Chanrerv. will attend to professional business in
Sandnstsv and Adjoining counties.
' 8J Orrica Second atory of Tyler's Block.
"jo ii?r 7 g in e :ex e ,
ATTORNEY AT LAW and Prosecuting Attorney
for Sandusky eoonty, Ohio, will attend to all pro-
lesoinnal husiuess entrusted te hia care, with promptness
-and fidelity.. . - ;
" ' O Off ics at the Court House,
; ; , :. CHESTER EDGERTON,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law, .
. ',,- '-.JLVO SOLICITOR IN CHANCE BY.
' Orncs At the Court Home.
"e Fremont, Sandusky Co. O. No 1.
- - B. .T. BARTLFTT, .
VTTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
- ' FB K MO XT,' S A K D U SK T , CO., O.,
" ' TTILL, give his undivided attention to professional
VV brsiness in Sandusky and the adjoiniug couuties.
. Fremont, Feb. 27, '49. ' '
' . . j . j , . PIERRE BEAUGRAND,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
RESPECTFULLY tenders his professional services
to the citizens of Fremont, and vicinity.
OrricK One door south of McCulloch's Drug store.
lA Q. RAWSON,
; Piri'SICIAX A3f 8CUGEOX,
' FREMONT, SANDUSKY CO., O.
May 26. 849. . ' U
' - PORTAGE COUNTY
Biatrial Fire' Insurance f ompany.
Jl. I9 . B U. CK L, if , 1gent.
WRtMONT, BANDr8Kr CO., OHIO.
;.- BELL 4c SHEETS, -
Physician antl Surgzony
- FKEMONT, SANDUSKY COUNTY, OHIO.
' ' . OFFICE Second Slorv of Kuapp'a Building.
' July 7. 1849. ' 2I
-FTHE regular Posl-OfHce hoars, uutil further notice,
J ', will be aa follows: .
- From 7 to 12 A. M. and from I to 8 P. M.
Sundays from 8 to 9 A. M. and from 4 to 5 P. M .
: " W. M. STARK, P. M.
: , NEW ARRANGEMENT.
; DRS. SHEETS & BELL,
HAVING entered into a partnership in the Drng Store
owned by Dr. Sheets, in Trier's Building, where
hej now offer a full assortment of
, ..prugs, Medicines, Dye Stuffs, Oils, Paints,
. and a grant variety of fancy articles, anch aa cologne,
hair oil, indelible ink, pen-Knives, combs, brushes of all
kinds, with a full assortment of
PA TENT MEDICINES,
for every disease that afSiets mankind: which we offer
at verv low psices Tor Cash. Beeswax Ginsenfr. Sassafras
Bars from the root and Paper Raes. Low Prices, and
t , Ready Pay in something,
(s oor motto forever. SHEETS & BELL.
""" Fremont, July 14. 1849. 21
j.-r FASHIONABLE TAILORING.
- P. MAXWEtli,' : .' '
RESPECLFULLY annonncea that he continues his
business in the second stoty of Knnpp's bnildinp,
opposite Border's eld stand, where he will be happy to
wail on his old customers and all who need any thins; in
hia line. If yon want yonr garments made nn right, and
her the Latest Fashion call en M AXW ELL.
, N. B. Particular attention paid to Cutting and warrant
ed t fitnrnperirinsrlenrK Anri'2". '49.
:-,New and Fashionable
V;; Goat ami Shoe Shop. '
FFHE undersigned, has bnened a BOOT and SHOE
, J . ahop on "
Mai street, two doors north of the Post Office,
ia JUower Sandusky, and is sow rnannfactarinr to oaor.a
everything in the above line with neatness and despatch.
Hia materials are of the best quality, his workmen are ex
perienced, and all work is wRHTr.D.
. -He Intends to- supply this marcel with beantiful and
fasliionaUe . . ' --... - -
t.i7 t.--.s- jj GENTLEMEN'S BOOTS,! . -, ,
-'Men's, Boys', and Children's Boots Shoes and Brogana,
Cowhide and Kipskin, as welt as pomps, slippers, &c
Also. Ladies' and Misses' slippers Buskins, Gaiters &e. ,
all done us in neat and fashionable atyle. and delivered
with promptness nnd deepatcn. 'I he aubaeriber requests
, t liberal share of the public patronage, and ia determined
te merit ibe ssme.
v .1 . GEORGE WIGSTEIN.
.; June 23,- 19. . " I8:6m
" THE CHtJKCH-YARD STILE.
. BT ELIZA COOK.
V I 'eft thee young and gay, Mary, , . , . . t
When last the thorn waa white;
I went upon my way, Mary,
- And atl the world" seemed bright;
' For thoujrh -my love hi d ne'er been told
Yet, yet 1 saw thy form
Beside me in the miduight watch,
Above me in the storm.
And many a blissful dream I had,
That brought thy gentle smile
: Just as it came when last we leaned , ; t
Upon the Church-yard Stile.
I'm jiere to seek thae now, Mary, , . . .
As all I love the best; --,.,.-..,,.
To fondly telj thee how, Mary,
i . ' I've bid tlise in my breast;
. . I cme. to yield thee up my heart, Vl y
With hope, a'ud truth, and joy, ' ' -And
crown with Manhood'a honest faith,
The feelings of the boy. .
' ' I breathed thy name, but every pulse
- - Grew still and cold the while.
For 1 was told thou Wert asleep,
J nst by the Church-yard Stile. "
Mr messmates deemed me brave, Mary,
Upon the sinking ship; . - -Uul
flo-ers above thy grave, Mary,
6 Hae power tg blanch my lip.
- I felt no throb of quailing fear .
" "Amid the wrecking serf.
But pa'e and weak 1 tremble here,
Upun the osiered turf
, 1 came to mret thy happy face.
And woo thy gleesome smile,
And ouly find thy resting place
, Close by the Church-yard Stile. '
Oh! years may pass away, Mar)',
And Sorrow lose its sting;
Tor Time is kind they say, Mary,
And flies with healing wing;
The world may make me old and wise,
And hope may have new birth,
And oilier joys, and other ties,
- May link me to the earth;
But Memory, living to the last.
Shall treasure np thy smile.
That called me back to find thy grave '
Close to the Church-yard Stile.
ill i s c c 1 1 a it t o tt s .
. The Empty Cradle.
"The mother gave, in tears and pnin,
The flowers that she most did love.
She knew she'd find them all again
' In ihe flowers itf light above. '
The death of of a child is to the mother's heart like a
dew on a plant from which a bud has per shed. The
plant lifts up its head in fresheued greenness to the mor
ning light; so the mother's soul gathers from the dark
svrrow through which she has passed, a fresh brightuing
of the heavenly hopes.
As she bend overthe empty cradle, and in fancy brings
her sweet infant before her, a ray of divine light is on the
cherub face. It is her son still, but with the seal of im
mortality on hia fair brow. She feels that heaven was
the only atmosphere where her precious flower could un
fold without spot or blemish, and she would not recall
IheloKl. But the anniversary of his departue seems to
bring her spiritual presence near her. She indulges in
that tender grief which soothes, liko an opiate in pain,
all the hard passages and cares of life. The world to
her is no longer with tinman hope in the future so glo
rious with heaven, love and joy.
She has treasures of happiness which the-worldly, un
chastened heart .never conceived. The brignt, fresh
flowers with which she has decorated her room, the
apartment where her infant died, are emblems of the far
brighter hopes now dawning on her day-dream. She
thinks of the glory and beauty of the new Jerusalem,
where the little rout will nevr find a thorn among the
flowers to render a shoe necessary. Nor will a pillow
be wanting for tne dear head reposing on the breast of
its kin I Saviour. And she knows her infant is there in
that world of eternal bliss. She has marked one passage
in that book emphatically the Word of life now lying
closed on Ihe toilette table, which she daily reads 'Suf
fer utile children, and lorbid them not, to come unto me;
for of such is the Kingdom of heavjn."
There's many an empty cradle.
There's many a vactiit bed,
Therv's many a lovely bosom,
Whose jny and light is fled; . .
For thirk in yon grave-Yard
The little hillocks lay '
And hundreds of sweet blossoms
Are gathered there to-day.
The Cup of Iiife.
Life is truly a mingled cup, consisting of sweet and
bitter. It ia a changeable day, consisting of lights and
shades. Every day brings some cup of pleasure to slake
the thirsty sonl; but it is not anmingled for every t'ay
also brings its sorrows. .very day brings some good,
and every day extorts some sigh. There is no dnv so
dark as not to be cheered by the light of hope, and yet
its ligtit perpetually gleams upon the hour or mental
darkness and sorrow, aa the sun often looks through the
overhanging cloud, and mingles its beams with drops of
the filling shower. Such is life, and we must make the
most of it, as it is. To be elated with its pleasures and
prospects, so a not to think of its sorrows, will lead to
disappointment for they will find us out. To brood
over lis -ills, to the neglect of the good we may enjoy,
The voice of Wisdom and Age.
In my apprehension, the best way to be useful and
happy in this life is to cultivate domestic affections to
love home, and at the same time be temperate and just
to pursue lawful business, whatever it may be, with dil
igence, firmness, and integrity of purpose, and in the
perfect belief that honesty is equally binding in the dis
charge of public as of private trusts; for when public
morals are destroyed, public liberty cannot survive.
' If we are aspiring, we ought not to lose our diffidence:
and if ardent for reforms, ought not to lose our discretion.
We ought to listen to the maxims of experience, nnd re
spect the advice and institutions of our ancestors: and.
above all, wa ought tu have a constant abiding sense of
the superintending goodness of that Almighty Being
whose, wisdom shines equally in his 'works and in his
word, and whose presence is every where sustaining and
governing the Universe. Kent.
TftUK. We are linked together by a thousand ties.
1 cannot smila while yon are weeping yon cannot be
merry if I am ssd. Therefore let us make a covenant
with each other, that we will withhold oor Borrows and
impart our joys It .is the secret of success. We talk
of the human family, hut we do not think enough of the
deep significance of the term Our brotherhood is lar
ger than the domestic circle, and if purest love centres
aronnd the .fireside of home, yel acts of kindness and
words of friendship should have no narrow limits.
i Where is Godl
A bishop once said to the young de Chatenneof, 'If
yon will tell tm where God is I will give yon an orange.'
'If yon will tell me where he is not, I will give yon two,'
was the child's answer. The poet beautifully answers
the question 'Where is GodT'
In the sun, the moon, the sky.
On the mountains wild and high;
In the thund-r in the rain,
, ., . In the grove, the wood, the plain; .
In the little birds that sing;
God is seen in every thing.'
i fir t-f
FREMONT, NOVEMBER 10, 1849.
How Big joe Lo?ston Used Up T wo Indians.
Id the heroic age of Kentucky, -when every adult
male within her borders was a hunter and Indian
killer by profession, big Joe Logtson, the hero of
the folio wins; adventure, and ot many an exploit
equally perilous and successful, was a resident if
the term can apply to a man ot his Arab-like hab
its of that section of the State now known as Green
county. Itis said of him, in western phrase, that
he could "out-run, out-jump, out-hop, throw down,
drag out, and whip any man in the country." The
rough woodsman's nabus would , not have gained
him much esteem in polished society ; but he was
such a man as Richard the lion-hearted loved to
look upon of mighty thews and sinews ; and in
frontier settlements, where savages and beasts of
prey were to be contended with the use and value
of a Samson, like Joe Logson' are self-evident
In the fail of 1760, a year memorable in the his
tory of Indian warfare, the Shawnees, the fiercest
tribe in Northern Kentucky, suddenly fell upon the
Green river settlements in great force. Numbers
of. the whites, including many women and children,
were killed or made prisoners. Ihe remnant that
escaped, among whom was our friend Logston,
sought proteclion within a rude fort, which formed
the strong hold of the infant colony. .
Garrison life was something new to Joe. He
had arrived at the age of 30 without having been
Doused, as tar as lie could remember, lor three con
secutive days. It may be supposed, therefore, that
by the time he had been cooped up in the block
house, a week, he became as restless and rantank
erous as a caged tiger. He tried to organize a par
ty to hunt up the stray cattle of the settlement;
but his companions, knowing the danger better than
he or fearing dt more, refused to accompany him.
At length, being too wolfish, as he expressed it, to
keep any longer under cover, he resolved to set
forth alone, ballymg out one tne morning, he
mounted his horse, and, in defiance of warning and
remonstrance rode into the forest in quest of adven
tures. His ostensible object was to search for the
cattle which had been scattered by the Indians,
and after traveling" all day wilhout seeing any signs
of them or Indians, Joe concluded to return to the
fort Riding along a path which ran in that direc
tion, he came to a grape vine loaded with ripe clus
ters. This was a welcome sight to a hungry and
thirsty ranger, and Joe fell to it in earnest While
he was thus engaged, with the rein thrown care
lessly on the neck of his nag,' and not dreaming of
danger two guns cracked from the opposite sides
of the bridle patlu The bullet from one passed
through the fleshy part of his breast, grazing the
bone, and a shower of buckshot from the other,
struck his horse behind the saddle. He had bare
ly time to slip his feet out of the stirrups before
the animal sunk in jts tracks. The backwoodsman
fell with his steed, but was on his feet rifle in hand
in a moment He might have escaped by flight
for so great was his speed of foot that the most ag
ue runner of the Shawnees would have been no
match for him. He had never retired from a bat
tle ground without leaving his mark, and- was re
solved not to retreat now before he had recipro
cated compliments with his unknown friends in the
bushes. He was not kept long in suspense. In
less than half a minute after the report of the guns,
an athletic Indian bounded into the path, toma
hawk in hand. Joe instantly covered him with his
rifle, and stood ready to put the sixteenth part of
a pound of lead through his heart the moment he
should approach near enough for a sure shot The
redskin as soon as he divined Joe's kind attentions
in his behalf, jumped behind two saplins which af
forded the nearest cover; but as neither of them
was large enough to shield his body, and they were
some distance apart, he endeavored to distract the
aim of his enemy by hopping quickly from one to
Joe, who knew that he had two enemies on the
ground, kept a sharp lookout for the other even
while his whole attention seemed to be devoted to
the artful dodger behind the saplings. Presently
he espied redskn number two loading his gun at
the back of a tree. The whole of the tree was not
quite large enough to hide him, and in the act of
shoving down his bullet he exposed his postenal
extremity and portion of one hip. Joe in the twink
ling of an eye, wheeled and gave him a shot with
what effect he had no time to see, for at the mo
ment the charge left the barrel, the first Indian,
who was a giant in bulk and stature, rushed upon
him with uplifted tomahawk. At the distance of
about fifteen feet from his enemy, the brawny sav
age halted and hurled his tomahawk with all his
force. It was truly aimed, but the frontiersman,
who had a quick eve, dodged the missile as it came.
The steel blade, instead of cleaving his forehead,
whirled hissing by, and struck quivering in the
trunk of a tree about ten yards behind him.
Joe now clubbed his rifle and dashed at the In
dian, intending to brain him with its butt But the
activity of the red giant was equal to his apparent
strenth. He sprang into the brush, and doubled
hither and thither with such fox-like cunning, that
for ten minutes his white antagonist was unable to
approach within striking distance. At last howev
er, Joe, thinking he had a fair, chance, swung his
gun high in the air, and made a sweeping blow full
at the Indian's head. The bnffet might have fell
ed a buffalo, and, had it taken effect on the skull
for which it was intended, would have crushed it
I ke a gourd ; but the wily redskin glided like a
shadow from under the descending weapon, which,
striking among the bushes, bounded from the woods
man's grasp far out of reach. The hands of both
were now weaponless, and the Indian, observing
that Joe was bleeding freely from the breast, rush
ed at him, and seizing his throat, endeavored to
This was decidedly a false move on the part of
the savage. Logston was the- strongest man of
the two, and the most expert wrestler west of the
Alleghanies. Scarce had the fingers of the Shaw
nee began to take liberties with Joe's windpipe,
when he was hurled over the woodsman's hip, and
fell wiih tremenduous force tipon his back. But
although Joe could throw his tawny enemy he could
hot hold him down. The Indian being naked and
his skin well oiled, he slipped from the white-man's
hold like an eel, and was sometimes the first to rise.
After throwing him five or six times, Joe found
from the loss of blood and incessant muscular ex
ertion, his strength was fast departing, nnd that he
must either change his tactics or lose his scalp.
Once more he pitched the Indian over; but this
time instead of attempting to hold the greasy ras
cal, he leaped up instantly, and as the other at
tempted to follow the example, struck him right
and left on the head with his bete, and kept up the
discipline until the Indian fell apparently insensi
ble. - Joe instantly jumped upon him, and thinking
he could despatch him by choking, grasped his
neck with his left hand, keeping the right free for
contingencies. He soon found, however, that the
Indian had been playing possum, and was very far
from being dead as he appeared to be. Thinking
he felt the Shawnee's right arm moving, Joe cast
his eye do wn.and discovered him gently and stealth
ily engaged in working out of its sheath a knife
which was attached to his belt and lay partly un
der him. The knifa w as short, and driven so far
into the scabbard that it. was necessary to force it
up by pressure against the point This the Indian
was carrying into effect and so successfully that had
not Logston discovered the manoeuver, the steel and
his best blood would have made speedy acquaint
ance. Joe watched the progress of the work with
a keen eye, and soon as the Indian had worked the
handle of the knife above the top of the sheath he
grasped it The blade glistened a moment in the
air, and sunk to the haft in the breast of the pros
trate Shawnee, who, throwing up both his arms,
with a wild yell, and expired.
The victor sprang lightly from the body of his
foe, and proceeded to look for the dead man's com
panion, whom he had shot behind the tree. He
found the crippled Indian, who bad been hit in the
spine, with his broken back propped against a peice
of fallen timber, trying to raise his rifle to shoot him ;
but whenever he attempted to "draw a bead on
the woodman he would fall forward, and was com
pelled to push against the gun until he had again
brought his fractured spine to a perpendicular.
Joe seeing (as he expressed it) that "the varmint
was sale," and concluding he had fought enough
for healthy exercise that day, made for the fort
winch he reached at night tall, covered with dirt
and gore, sans horse, sans gun, sans everything, ex
cept the story of his days adventure, at which his
comrades winked and shrugged their shoulders, in
token of disbelief. He told them to go to the ground
where he "fit the Injuns," and judge for them
Next morning a company was made up to pro
ceed to the spot When they approached it noth
ing was to be seen except the dead horse, and they
were about to return in the full conviction that
Joe's story waa a hoax, when a trail leading into a
thicket was observed by one of the party. The
leaves appeared to have been disturbed, as if some
thing heavy had been dragged over them ; and on
following the trail they found the big Indian lay
ing beside a log, covered up with leaves and brush.
From this point another trailed into the woods, and
pursuing it for a hundred yards or so, they came
upon the body of the other chawnee laying on his
back, with his own knifa sticking up to the haft in
his breast evidently to show that he had killed
himself, and not died by the hand of an enemy.
They had along hunt for the knife with which Log
ston had killed the big Indian, and found it at last
sticking deep into the ground, having apparently
been forced below the surtace by a man s hand or
heel. This had been done by the wounded Indi
an, and the almost superhuman efforts he roust
have made before he accomplished so much in his
maimed condition, may serve to show, among thou
sands of other instances, what the red man is capa
ble of in the greatest extremities.
Ihe proofs of his powers and skill as an Indian
fighter made. quite a "lion" of our hero. He was
the acknowledged "cock of the walk," on the fron
tier, from that time until 1805, when he was killed
at the head of a company of "regulators," while in
pursuit of a gang of white outlaws who bad stolen
several horses from the settlement in which he re
Bonaparte's Opinion of Christ.
The glare of Napoleon's military glory has hith
erto prevented the world's doing justice to his in
tellectiud greatness. Let any one who would get a
glimpse of what this wonderful man accomplished
with his pen amid all the din and wild uproar of
war and the cares of government, read Alliston's
recent history of modern Europe. The efforts of
his pen, if published, would perhaps scarcely fall
short of the voluminous labors of Scott
The remarks which follow show not only singu
lar sagacity, but a rare comprehensiveness of intel
A foreign journal lately published a conversation
related by count de Montholon, the faithful friend
of the Emperor Napoleon.
'I know men,' said Napoleon, 'and I tell you that
Jesus was not a man! The religion of Christ is a
mystery which subsists by its own force, and pro
ceeds from a mind which is not a human mind.
We find in it a marked individuality, which orig
inated a train of words and actions unknown before.
Jesus borrowed nothing from our knowledge. He
exhibited in himself a perfect example of his pre
cepts. Jesus is not a philosopher, for his proofs are
miracles, and from the first his disciples adored him.
In fact, learning and philosophy are of no use fur
salvation, and Jesus came into the world to reveal
the mysteries of Heaven, and the laws of the spirit
'Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne and myself
tounded empires, but upon what Joundations aid
we rest the creations of our genius? Uponorce
Jesus alone founded his empire upon love, and at
this hour millions would die for him.
It was not a day nor a battle, that achieved the
triumph of the Christian religion in this world.
No, it was a long war a contest for three centu
ries began by the Apostles, then continued by the
flood of Christian generations. In this war, if all
the kings and potentates of the earth were on one
side on the other, I see no army but a mysteri
ous force, some men scattered here and there in all
parts of the world, and who have no other rallying
point than a common faith in the mysteries of the
'I die before my time, and my body will be given
back to the earth, to become food for the worm.
Such is the fate of him who has been called the
Great Napoleon t What an abyss between my
deep misery and the eternal kingdom of Christ
which is proclaimed, loved and adored, and which
is extending over the world ! Call you this dying
Is it not living rather ? The death of Christ is the
death of God!'
Ifapoleon stopped at the last words, but General
Bertrand making no reply, the Emperor added :
'If you do not perceive that Jesus Christ is God,
I did wrong to appoint you a General.'
Female Society. He who speaks lightly of
female society is a numskull or a knave I the torraer
not having sense enough to discern its benefits, and
the latter hating the restraint it Inys on his vices.
1 N 0
The exploits of Fannon, the famous tory partisan
of North Carolina, would make a body of facts more
interesting than any tale or fiction. He was a reck
less fellow, bloody-minded as the hounds of Hay ti,
and Fannon's mare was worthy of her owner or ev
en a better man. He called her the Red Doe,
from her resemblance in color to a deer. - She
was a rare animal fleetpowerful, intelligent docile
as a lamb and her owner valued her, I dare say
above king or country, or the life of his fellow
man. She bore him proudly and fearlessly in the
quick retreat When he stood in the noisy coun
sel of partizans, or in the silent ambush, the faith
ful brute was by his sid3 ever ready to bear" him
whithersoever he would. But Fannon lost his
mare. ' . . . i.
- Down on the east of Little River, the partisan
and some four or five of his followers, one day cap
tured a man by the name of Hunter, a Whig from
the country about Salisbury. N. C. This was
sufficient cause of death, and Fannon told the man
he should hang him. -- Hunter was evidently a man
of the the times; but what could he do, alone
and defenceless, with a dozen bitter enemies ? It
was a case of complete desperation. The rope
was ready, and a strong old oak threw out conven
ient branches. Fannon told him he might pray for
his time was come. The poor man kneeled down,
and seemed absorded in his last petition to the
throne of mercy. Fannon stood by and the trusty
mare among them with the reins on her neck.
They began to be impatient for the victim to close
his devotional excercises. ' But they soon discover
ed that there was more of earth than heaven in
Hunter's thoughts: for he soon sprang on Fannon's
mare, bowed his head down on her powerful neck,
pressed his heels in her flanks and darted away
like the wind.
The tory rifles were leveled in a moment
'Shoot high 1 shoot high !' cried Fannon 'save my
mare ! The slugs all whistled over Hunter's back
save one that told with unerring aim, which tore
and battered his shoulder dreadfullv. He reeled
in his saddle and felt sick at heart but hope was
before him, and death behind, and he nerved him
self for the race On he sped-through woods
and ravines and brambles, did that powerful mare
carry him, safely and swiftly. His enemies were
in hot pursuit They followed him by the trail of
blood from his wounded shoulder. He came to
Little River there was no ford ; the bank was
high, and a deep place in the stream before him.-
But the foe came; he drew the rein, and clapped
his heels to her sides, and that gallant mare pi unged
recklessly into the stream. She snorted in the
spray as she rose, pawed the yielding wave arched
her beautiful mane above the surface, and skim
med along like a wild swan. Hunter turned her
down stream, in hope of evading her pursuers; and
she reared and dashed through the flashing waters
of the shoal, like lightning in a storm cloud.
But Fannon was on the trail, and rushed down
the bank with all the rough energy that the loss of
his favorite could inspire. Hunter turned the mare
to its opposite bank ; it was steep several feet of
perpendicular rock but she planted herself on
the shore at a bound ; and then away she flew over
the interminable forest of pines, straight and swift
as an arrow the admirable mare.
On and on did the noble brute bear her master's
foeraan, the pursuers were left hopelessly behind.
Late in the evening Hunter rode into Salisbury,
had the slug extracted from his shoulder, and after
lingering some time with the effects of his wound
and exitement finally got well. And that gallant
mare, that had done him such good service he kept
and cherished till she died ot old age. .
A Deatb Bed Scene.
Our Louisville friends no doubt remember Mr. F.
C. Germon, one of the Ethiopian Serenadera. The
Philadelphia Times has the following notice of his
A friend who was with him in his last moments.
states that when Mr. Carles, Jr asked if he should
read some good work 'read over Shakspeare,' said
he 'read me Shakspeare. Mr. C. urged him now
to think of another world, and as he left the room
said, 'Frank, there is yet time.'
Germon said nothing for some moments. IJeath
was rapidly approaching. He folded his hands
across his breast 'Time,' said he, at length
'There is vet time!' Then lifting his hands, as in
prayer, he commenced to recite the little verse em
ployed by children on going to sleep, vis :
' Now I lay me down to sleep,
1 pray to God my soul to keep. '
Here he paused and murmured : Time there is
yet time," and continued to recite :
' And if I die before I wake,
I pray to God '
Here he was rapidly sinking! He gnsped 'I pray
to God' 'ah time time time.'
i ''My soul to keep.
and as the last word died away on his lips, his spirit
le.t his body, we trust for a happier place!
Swedish Laws on Intoxication.
In Swenen, where intoxication has been a great
' ice among the people, brutalizing and debasing
them, rigid measures have been adopted to reform
the evil practice. Whoever is 6een drunk, is fined
for the first offence, three dollars; for the second,
third and fourth times, a larger sum, and is also
deprived of the privilege of voting at elections, and
of being appointed a representative. , He is, besides,
publicly exposed in the parish church on the fol
lowing Sunday. If the same individual is found
committing the same offence the fifth time he is
shut up in a house of correction and condemned to
six months' hard labor; if he is again guilt', to 12
months punishment of a similar description. If
the offence has been committed in public, such as
at a fair, an auction, &c, the fine is doubled ; and
if the offender has made his appearance at a church,
the punishment is still more severe. Whoever is j
convicted of having Induced another to intoxicate
himself, is fined three dollars, which sum is doub
led if the person is a minor. ' An eclesiastic who
falls into this offence looses his benefice ; if he is a
layman of any considerable post his labors are sus
pended, and perhaps he is dismissed. Drunken-
ness is never admitted as an excuse for any crime ;
and whoever dies when drank is buried ignomini
iously, and deprived of the prayers of the church.
It is forbidden to give, and more explicitely to sell,
any spirituous liquors to students, workmen, ser
vant, apprentices, or private soldiers.
From the ICsw Orleans Picayune. .- "
PRAIRIE. LIFE A TALE OF REYEXGEi
SA story is told of an extraordinary meeting, and
an act of revenge said to have taken place many
long yea ago, on the fork of tbc Pawnee. ; A pf
ty of four who had been rovimr many years m th
west all strangers to each other, were accidentally
thrown together, when a strange and bloody sceno
ensued. The youngest was delicately made with
long, light hair and blue eyes; Iris exposure bad
given him a rich brown complexion. - He was of
the medium stature, and made for strength and
agility. There was a dark void over iris features,
which told that with him the light of hope had gone
out He was traveling on a mule, with his rifleln
his gun leather at the bow of his saddle, when ho
overtook a man on foot, with a gun on his shoulder,
and pistols in his belt, who was ove? six feetand
had a deep wide scar on his check, v 'As oaf a
drawing to a close they proposed to carnpand
brought up at the hsad of the fork of thS Pawnee.
Shortly fter they had camped; a man was, jKtB
reconnoitering them with -a rifle ih -his taffd; and
having satisfied himself that the sign wastriendTy,
he came moodily into the scarob. nF afserookTrio-
sternly at thetwo mm, :was"ksked by Scar fceek,
to 'come to the ground.' Was a6utjnuseutr
man, mudrdtd'er than the oUier'- tWo, with a a'eep,
habitual scowl, long, black, malted hai nrrf ' Very
unprepossessing features. - Some common placere
marks were made, but no questions Were as!&f ey
either party-:, :- ' ' 4i.s
T. . .'1 ' I . l . , . " ' .
ma uear iwiiigm wnen ine young man; wno
had gathered some buffalo clips to ruakeafireto
cook with, suddenly perceived a man approaehmg
them on a mule; he came ateadily ahd fearlessly
on to the camp, and casting a look nt the tTirrV,
said, "Took ye for Indians';' Vnen glancing al the
aeer min areas oi me tno, he observed, "old leath
ers some time out, eh?' The man was about fif
ty years old, and his gray hairs contrasted strangely
with his dark bronzed features, upon which care aijd
misfortune were strongly stamped. He was only
half-clad by the skins he wore ; and as he dismount
ed Scar Cheek asked, 'where-from?' 'From the
Kaw,' (Kansas) he replied, throwing dowi a bun
dle of otter skins. After unsaddling and staking
out his mule, he brought himself to the ground, and
taking his rifle, looked at the priming and shaking
tne powaer m tne pan, ne added a tow more grama
to it; then placing a piece of thin dry skin over it,
to keep it from the damp he shut the pan.C'Tha
group watched the old trappen who seemed not to
notice them ; while Scar Cheek became interested
and showed a certain uneasiness. He looked to
wards his own rifle, and once or twice loosened the
pistols in his belt as if they incommoded birtCV The
young and the stout man with a scow exchanged
glances out no words passed. So far no question,
had been asked as to who the other was; whatltt-
tie conversation passed was very laconic and. not a '
smile had wreathed the lip of any of them., - ;-)
The little supper was eaten in silence, each rtan
seemed to be wrapped in his own thoughts. - It ws
agreea mat me watcn snouid be equally divided
among the four, each man standing guard for two
hours, the old trapper taking the first watch, the
young man next, and Scar Cheek and he with .the
it was a bright moonlight night, and over that
baren wild waste of prairie not a sound was heard
as the three lay sleeping on their blankets. : The
old trapper paced up and down, ran his eyes around
tne wild waste before him, and then would atop and
mutter to himself, 'It cannot be he.' he said half
aloud, 'but the time and the Scar may hnve disguis
ed him. That boy, too it's strance I feel drawn
towards him; then that villain with his scowl,' aird
the muscles of the old trapper's face worked con
vulsively, which, the moon-beams playing upon,
disclosed traces of a bye-gone refinement ;, The
trapper approached noiselessly, the sleeping men,
and kneeling down scanned them deeply. ..Walk
ing off he muttered to himself again, 'it shall be,'
and then judging by the stars that his watch wm
nearly up, he approached the young man and woke
him, pressing his finger on the lip to command' si
lence at' the time, and motioned him to follow.
They walked off some distance, when the traDpgr
taking the young man by the shoulder turnea hia
face to the moon-light and after gazing at It wist
fully, whispered in his ear, 'are you Perry Ward?"
The young man started wildly, "but the trapper
prevented his reply by saying 'enough,' enough?
He then told him that "he wasliis uncle, and that
the man with the Scar was the murderer of his fa
ther ; and that he with the scowl had convicted him
(the trapper) of forgery by bis false oalh. ; The
blood deserted the lips of the young man, and his
eyes glared and dilated in their sockets. He
squeezed his uncle's hand, and then with a mean
ing glance as he looked to his rifle, moved towards
the camp. 'No, no!" said the old trapper, 'not in
cold blood; give them a chance.' "They iautibusly
returned to the camp and found both the -men tnn
deep sleep. The uncle and nephew6tood Over ti:erri
Scar Cheek was breathing hard, 'when he suddvtiry
cried out 'I didn't murder Perry Ward? L5af I'satd
the trapper in a voice of thunder, and ihe twestaH
ed to their feet 'Red skins about ?' asked they-in
a voice, 'No! worse than red-skins,' swd the trap
per. 'Jtlarry Ward is about!' and seizing his knife
he plunged it in Scar Cheek's heart "Then take
that,' said he with the scowl, and, raising his rifle,
the trapper fell a corpse. With a bound ' and a
wild cry the young man jumped at the murderer
of his uncle and with his knife gave him several fa
tal wounds. The struggle was a fearful one7, how
ever, and the young man had also received several
bad cuts, when his adversary fell from loss of blood
and soon expired.' Thus ended this strange meet
ing, and thus were father and uncle revenged.
The Power of Earnestness. : ,c"-'
I have felt twice in my life very extraordinary
impressions after sermous, and that from men least
calculated to affect me. ' A man of great powers
but so dissipated on every thing that he knew noth
ing a frivolous futile babbler, whom I was ready
almost to despise surprised and chained me m
in my own church at Lewes, that I was thunder
struck : he felt the subject strongly himself; and m
spite of all my prejudices against him, and mr real
knowledge of his character, he made me feel t Jm
I scarcely have ever done before or since. ' In'ari
other instance, I had to do with a very differetA
character ; he was a simple but weak man j. it pVns
ed God, however to shoot an arrow by his handtlj
to my heart; I had been some time id ' a 5rr, fruit
less frame," and was persuading myself tbat all W'a
going on well ; he said one day at Lewes, with, an
indiscribable simplicity, that 'men might cheer Uieni
selves in the morning, and thy might pa68 on tol
erably well perhaps without God at noon ; but th
cool of the day was coming, when God would come
down to talk with them.' It was a message from
God to me. I felt as though God had descended
into the church, and was about to call me to my ae-
count! In the former instance I was mora aston
ished, than affected religiously; but in this I waa
unspeakably moved. Cecil-
SO; in .
CassiusM. Cla has now entirly recovered from
tliR wounds h received in his last fight.