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14 PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY GEO. E. NEWMAN. O.Oc« ia North end of Pierce’s Block, third story, cor ner of Broad and Front Sts. TERMS.—One dollar and ilfty cents per annum, if paid strictly in advance; one dollar seventy-five cents wi hin six months •, two dollars, If payment is delayed to the end of the year. „ , , .. IT Any person who will send us live good subscribers, ■hall be entitled to a copy of the paper for one year. O-Nq paper will be discontinued until all arrearage art paid, unless at the option ol the publisher. O- Single copies, four cents—for sale at the office, and at Stearns’ Periodical Depot, Centre St. Advertisements inserted at the usual rates. All letters and communications to be addressed post paid, to the Publisher, Bath, Me. S. M. Pettevoill & Co., Newspaper Advertising Agents, No. 10 State Street, and V. B. Palmer, Scollay’s Building, Court street, Boston, are Agents for this paper, and arc authorized to receive Advertisements and Subscriptions for us at the same rates as required at this office. Their receipts are regarded as payments. THE STORY TELLER. The Black Pond. Few have visited the flourishing town of New Braintree, Mass., without becoming ac quainted with the beautiful and romantic vi cinity of Black Pond. Shortly after the expiration of the French and Indian War, a hardy settler named War ner, built his cot by the pond on the bank of the beautiful War river. On the morning when the defenders of Fort Edward sallied forth under the command of Col. Williams, to meet the advancing enemy led by the Paron Pieskau, when the farmer suffered death, Warner, then a private, was one of the last to seek the retaining shelter of the fort, and distinguished himself a short dis tance from its walls by a long and obstinate conflict with a gigantic chief of the Oneida tribe, whom lie killed, and according to the rude fashion of the day, bore his scalp in tri umph to the camp. During the war, by his courage and ability, he won the honor and title of captain. One morning a few years afterwards, he surprised his wife by his speedy return from the forest, where he had intended to remain during the day. He entered the house with out speaking, and hastily seized his rifle. She noticed the firm step, the unwonted flashing of the eyes, and stern compression of his lips. * Husband,’ she said, with an anxious look, ‘ what has occurred to move you thus?’ ‘Moved! he replied, ‘do 1 really appear moved? Yet if may be so; bid not with fear ; fear canot move me !’ * Fear!’ she exclaimed with alarm, ‘have you been in danger? Speak, O, I entreat you! ’ He smiled, and that smile served partially to dissipate her apprehension, w hile she shrank back almost ashamed at the vehemence of her anguish. * Do not agitate yourself, my dear,’ he re plied, ‘you see I am now safe, and with you ; but do bring me my box of flints, and that quickly, for I require one that will not miss fire.’ When she returned with the box, he, after a minute's selection, affixed one to the hammer of his rifle, and lie carefully cleaned the vent hole and reloaded it. * Now,’ he said, as his eye glanced rapidly along the barrel of his piece,‘I am now ready.’ His wife, who had noticed all these precau tions, said in a calm but sad lone, ‘I fear you will deceive me.’ ‘Iff have kept aught from you,’ he said, ‘it ocas affection that prumpted the act ; but now you shall know all. A week since I /earned that an Indian had been lurking in the neigh borhood. From the inquiries he made of the neigtiltors, I found that I was the object of his search. This morning I unexpectedly saw him. He retreated hastily, but turned for a moment with a look of deadly hatred and de fiance. I understood its language—the looks of the Indian are more expressive than his words—it plainly said, “your life or mine.” ’ ‘0, my husband, you surely will not go forth to meet this dreadful savage—it would be omKter-ahle madness. Why cannot you fly from this horrible place, ami thut elude him?’ ‘Fly!—ah, it cannot be, poor trembler.— iiy heavens! it shall never he said that 1 fled from a single Indian; besides, I know the blood-thirsty savage—it is Black Wolf, the celebrated chief of (lie Oneidns, and the brother of him I slew at Ford Edward. In revenge of his brother’s death he seeks my life.’ ‘Then, for my sake,’ said the afflicted wife, ‘and for the sake of this poor innocent, (she pointed to the cradle which contained u prattling lufaut of two summers,) du nut go alone.’ ■ it must be so, lie repnec, lirmly, though apparently moved liy iier ufi'ectiouuie up peal ‘mv sateiy depends upon it. As lie is a savage, I must meet him as such, and that ill his otvn barbarous manner. Remember you are the wife of a soldier; be firm, or at least,’ he said with an emoiion he could not control, ‘do not unman me. If I fall’—he hesitated for a moment, then suddenly Caught his child, kissed him, pressed a burn ing kiss upon the cold brow of his wife, has tily embraced her, and rushed from the house. lie had not been absent an hour before be discovered the lurking place of the Indian. The wary eye of the savage was loo busy not to see as seen as he was seen. Then commenced those fearful movements liy which the sons of the forest strive to in duce their fots 10 leave some portion of the hody exposed to the aim ol the deadly riHe. The chief, though the most renowned of his tribe, found the captain in every respect his equal,and after an hour of intense labor and suspense, neither had gained the advan tage. The Indian, at this moment, saw Warner leap from Ins lurking-place and dis appear behiod the trunk of a large fallen tree. What was now io he done ? He was too wary not to apprehend some stratagem liy Warner; he therefore neither advunced nor retreated, hut kept behind a gigantic uuk._ At length to his great joy, he discovered the hat of the enemy slightly emerging above the hody of the tree, and quickly disappear. The Indian smiled with savage delight as lie muttered— ‘The pale-face is a great warrior, but he is a fool. The son of the forest would not he when he could stund ; he would expose Ilia head and feet at the same time.’ During iliia soliloquy, he was slowly pois ing hia rifle, ready to take the first advantage of ihe imprndent movement of his adver-ary. The hat waa now so clearly visible tl a: he fired. It quickly fell, and all was silent for a moment, then a wild exuhing war-whoop rang through the lorest, and the Indian rushed forward to secure the scalp of the fallen enemy. When within two rods of the fatal tree, he paused in astonishment. Before I , 9 A Journal of Political and General News—An Advocate of Equal Rights. VQL- VIL BATH, MAINE, THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 30, 1852. NO. 28. Inrn, with a poised rifle, stood the powerful form of Warner. One look of unutterable hale—it was the chieftain’s last. The re port of Warner’s rifle resounded through the forest, and the Black Wolf lay writhing among the fallen leaves. The captain was not the fool the Indian had supposed him. Feeling that neither hud gained any advantage, nnd being desir ous of bringing the combat to an issue^ he resolved to hazard ull to a stratagem, which, if successful, wuuld give him a fatal advan tage over the Oneida. lie therefore threw himself behind a tree, and slightly elevated his hat upon a stick. This the Indian saw, ind afterwards fired at. Warner looked upon his dead foe with the stern joy which a warrior feels. ‘ You have been a great chief, but a cruel warrior,’he soliloquised,‘yet your weapons tiave been used with courage and skill; you shall not he deprived of them, even in death.’ With cords he affixed tlie rifle that had proved final to so many, to the cold hand, placed the scalping-knile and tomahawk in their wonted place, tied a large stone to the feet, and placed the body in a canoe. When near the centre of the pond, lie lifted the in animate form witli bis face towards the set ting sun, and the smooth waters became the Indian’s grave. Warner, though a conqueror, returned with sadness to his friends, whose joy can lie better imagined than desdrihed. From that day this beautiful sheet of water lias been known and called the Black Fond. _ uaring attempt, wita± ire Snips. It is related by Marshall in his life of Wash ington, that in July, 1T7H, while the Ameri can army yet had possession of New York, Lord Howe, who had but recently arrived be fore that city with his fleet, sent up two frio ates, by the American batteries, which took their station in North river, and thereby put a stop to the communication between the armies at New York and at Ticonderoga ; and that to remove ibis interruption a plan was formed to set the frigates on fire by means of fire ships, wliicji, though address and courage were man ifested in the enterprise, failed in the execu tion, and only a tender was burnt. A particular account of this daring act, which we believe is not even referred to in Hooper's ‘Naval History,’ was published in lie newspapers some twenty-five years ago, irom information given by Mr. Joseph iiass, of Leicester, \\ ho commanded one of the fireships. Mr. Hass was a brave soldier in the war of our independence, and was, at the time referred to, attached to the ‘water service,’ under the command of Commodore Hopkins, who was Jirecied lo prepare and send op two fire stiips o file Hrilisli frigates. Bass was selected to .ake ciiargc of one, ami the other was pel un ier the command of Captain Thomas, who be onged to New London. The vessel com manded by Hass was a sloop culled the Polly, if about one hundred tons burden, nearly new. That commanded by Thomas was of smaller size. The frigaies lay about eight miles above Hingsbridge, but having bad intimations that ibey might be attacked, removed their station towards the western shure of the river, where the shore was holder, and the water deeper than on the east side. The vessels intended for fire ships were prepared at New York, and moved up the river on the day before the in tended at'ack, to u creek near Kiogsbridge, which crosses in from the east, called Spiking Devil creek. i he vessels hail been prepared with fagots of very combustible wood, w hich had been dipped in melted pilch, and bundles of straw cut about a foot long, prepared in the same way. These fagots and bundles filled the deck, and com municated with a trough of fine gunpowder, which extended along under the deck from the hold into the cabin, and into this was inserted a match that might he fired by a person in the cabin, who would have lime to escape through a door cut in the side of the vessel into a whaleboat that was lashed to the quarter of the sloop. Besides these combustibles, there were in each vessel ten or twelve barrels of pitch, and a very great number of yards of canvas, cut in strips about a foot in. width, covering the yards and rigging, and extending down to the deck, all of which had been dipped in the spir its of turpentine. Everything had been so pre pared that a moment was sufficient to put the whole into a full blaze. The fire ships started from the creek about dark, with a south wind and a favorable tide. The night was cloudy and dark, with occa sionally a little rain. Bass had nine men at tached to his vessel, three of whom he sta tioned in the whaleboat, one acted as pilot, while he stationed himself with a match in the cabin, to fire the materials. Besides the two British frigates there were a bomb ketch and two tenders in company, and moored near them. They were anchored in a line, about north and south ; first the I’he nix of 44 guns; then the bomb ketch, and above that lay the tenders. As the night was dark, and the fire ships kept near the middle ot the river, they were not aware that they were near the British vessels until they beard im mediately on their left the bells of the vessels, and the cry of the sentinels, of ‘all's well,’ from their several decks. It was tw7elve o’clock, and little did those who were slumber ing there imagine the destruction that hung over them. The shore was bold, and rose above the masts so that the Americans did noi perceive tilt that sound how near they had ap proached, nor could they distinguish the situa tion of the vessels enough to ascertain theii size, or which of them were the frigates.— Bass was a considerable distance in advance o I homas, and upon hearing the cry of the sen tinels, immediately bore down upon the lint of the British fleet. lie was already very neai the bomb ketch before he wasdiscovered by tht enemy, who immediately began a severe can nonade upon his vessel, which damaged he rigging and mast, and some of the shot enterei her hull. But he was now under so rapid i ‘headway’ that he had no opportunity, even i he had been inclined, to have retreated. A soon as he saw himself near enough to the vee sel towards which he was steering to be sure that she could not escape, he gave orders for his men to take to the boat, and touching the match he leaped into the whale boat, and ‘cast off’ from his ship. Her direction had been too sure. The grappling irons upon the bow sprit, yards, &c., became interlocked with the rigging of the bomb ketch, and they were both almost immediately in a blaze. The panic struck crew of the ketch were seen pouring from the quarters of that ship in the utmost ag ony of consternation. The fire of the burning vessels lighted up the surrounding scenery with a horrid glare of splendor. The first one that reached the deck of the ketch from the cab in was her commander, who was struck dead by a falling spar. He was followed by two women, and one or more children, whose cries were heard amidst the din of battle that now raged, and the imprecations of the crew, many of whom threw themselves overboard and per ished, while those who remained on board, re treated to the point most distant from the flames, but soon sunk down into them, suffo cated, bewildered, and exhausted. C-apt. Thomas had not been so fortunate, he was so far in the rear that the light of the flames from Bass's ship showed his position to the enemy, and partially prepared them to meet his attack. Not, however, daunted by being discovered, he immediately bore down upon the Phenix, and became grappled with her. He then applied his match to his com bustibles, but in such a way that he became en tangled in his own fire, and was obliged to leap overboard to escape from the flames, but not being able to reach the boat, he perished in the river. lie also lost five men, while Bass escaped without the loss of one. Al though on fire in several places, the Phenix j escaped from destruction, by culling her rig- i ging and slipping her cables, with the loss of but few lives. Of the crew of the ketch few escaped. Nearly seventy men, besides some women and children, were the victims of this merciless attack. We can scarcely conceive a scene more terrible than the one we have at tempted to describe, or one so calculated to awaken fear in the breasts of those engaged in it. The hour of the night, the uncertainty of success, the almost certainty of destruction, would be enough to awaken a pain in the stoutest heart; while the awful destruction that awaited the victims of success would stag ger the resolution of the bravest. The dark ness of the hour, the unearthly light that gleamed upon the wild scenery around, the roar of artillery, and tho groans and shrieks of those perishing in tortures at which humanity shudders, must have made it a scene unrivalled in sublimity and terror. Yet the feelings of that day were ofa kind to delight in sucti an exhibition of vengeance upon the foes to our country. It was a spectacle on which hun dreds, and we may say thousands, of the Americans gazed that night with the deepest interest. a good degree failed in the accomplishment of their plan to destroy the frigates, were re ceived w ith the warmest acclamations of grali itude on their return from their perilous enter prise. The attempt, however, was not without its ! effect. The frigate moved down the river the next day, and joined the English fleet, and left the river for a short time open for the commu nication of the Americans. Take my Hat. Every one has heard this phrase, but few, we fancy, know its origin. One of our ex changes gives an account of it, which is good enough to be true. It runs as follows : About nineteen years ago, a fine looking old gentleman from Western Virginia entered a store in Nashville, Tenn. Said store was owned by a bluff, honest old trader, who knew a great deal more about the quality of the counter than he did about the fineness of the fabrics upon it—nevertheless, between the two extremities of that contriving to make both ends very comfortably meet the necessity of the case. The old Virginian casting his eyes around the shelves, and finally re marked— ■ well, neigiiDor, l see yon ve got hats. ‘ A slight sprinkle,’ was the answer—‘whar yer from ?’ ‘ Old Virginia,’ was the response. ‘ Right smart old State,’ replied the Tenne sean, ‘hut getting rather loo old to keep her l liar on.’ ‘What do you mean?’ inquired the Vir ginian. * Well, just what I say uncle ; it can't keep her liar on ; fur instance, now, I should think you have been a right healthy child ot the Old Dominion, but she has “shed” you at last, and, like Samson of old, that’s the way she is losing all the best liar off her venerable head.’ The old Virginian looked around the store, rather bothered with the liberty this Tcnnesean was taking with his mother State, and finally remarked— ‘ 1 came here to talk about hats, stranger, and not liar.’ ‘ Well, well, uncle, don’t get wrathy now. I was only venturing a political opinion about population in general, and on that we won’t quarrel, but before we look at the hats, as they are intimately connected with heads, ’spose we take a mite of bald face.’ The proposition was agreed too, and the liquor was imbibed, and next followed the hats. The merchant tossed down four or five wool hats of various sizes, and invited the old gen tleman to select one which would fit him. He looked at them, examined the sizes, and said they would do, and requested the storekeeper to hand him a few more. ‘ That’s all the sizes I’ve got,’ said he, 1 but here’s a few mcys, if you think you'd like them better,’ and so saying he tossed down ' three more. ‘ Them are all right,’ said the old Virginian, i turning around, and the stout old storekeeper, I blowing with exertion, descended from his i perch, where he was straddling from shelf to - counter. As soon as he reached the floor the old Virginian remarked that he had not got enough yet. ‘O, you vrant ’em for your niggers?’ says the storekeeper. ‘ Well, why didn’t you say BO when I was up ?’ and again proceeded to perch himself up like a mercantile Colossus.— When he had blowed himself into his former position the old man quietly remarked_ ‘ Why, stranger, I wan’t talking anything about niggers!’ The fact is, the old man was enjoying the extra trouble he had put the Ten nesean to. ‘ Well, what do you want with so manv hats?’ ‘ 1 want t°r my sons,’ said the old man. The storekeeper began to count them on the eounter. • Eight,’ said he, * pretty big spread of boys already, I’ll swear, but here goes ;’ and added one, and then another, and yet a fourth, and he picked off a fifth, and finally, seeing the aid man immovable, he tossed down three more and was about to descend himself, when the aid man told hi n to hold on and throw down a few more. ‘ Oh, come, uncle,’ said he, ‘ you are jok ing ;’ but to please him, he threw down twenty. ‘ That’s just one too many,’ said the old man. ‘ V\ hat—you mean to say you have nineteen ;ons? W bar in the name of the State of Ten nessee are they ?’ ‘They are in Tennessee—right here in the aity—up at'the hotel,’ said the man. * Stranger, said the storekeeper; ‘if you ken show me nineteen boys of your raisin’ thar’s the hats.’ ‘ Hold on, then.’ said the old man, and off he started. In about ten minutes, down the street he came, leading a line of nineteen hoys, marching single file, each bearing a good gun, and followed by their venerable mother. I hey entered the merchant’s store, and ranged along the counter—the storekeeper ran his eye along the line with astonishment. ‘ And you say these boys are all yours?’ he inquired. ‘ Ask their mother—she says they are,’ re plied the old man. ‘ Do you say so* madam?’ he inquired. 1 Yes, 1 do, and I ought to know,’ was the reply. 1 Well, you might, I'll swear,’ said the storekeeper. * Old friend,’ he added, ‘ I ain’t got a word to say—jest take them hats, and mine, too!’ MISCELLANY. Mining in California. A gentleman in California, writing to a brother of his in the city of Portland, gives the following interesting account of the methods employed in mining in separating the gold from the earthy matter in which it is found :— “There are three modes of separating the gold from the dirt, Rocking, Totnming and Sluicing. Rocking is done where water is scarce, and the dirt is rich. The bottom of the rocker is just like a baby’s cradle, except that one end is lower than the other. On the higher end is a box with a seive for a bottom. The dirt is thrown into the box, and the man who tends the rocker, pours on water, rocking at the same lime. The seive catches the stones of any consid erable size, while the dirt and gold go throogh to the bottom of the rocker. The gold being heavier than the dust, sticks to the bottom, and the dirt is carried off by water; but it requires great care to prevent the gold from going off, too. Miners generally wash ten or fifteen buckets of dirt in the rocker and then clear it out, by scraping the gold and black sand, which is almost as heavy as gold, to the opper end of the rocker, washing it carefully as clean as possible, and then putting the gold and w hat sand remains into a pan ; and thus they con tinue through the day. At night it is panned out, as it is called. ‘ Panning out ’ is quite a a noted performance, as it shows the exact amount of the day’s work. This is done by shaking the pan in clear water, until the sand is on top, and then taking the pan from under it; the whole operation being under water. The gold is almost clean out, not quite. It is next dried and placed on a blower, which is a tin dish shaped like a hopper, the sand is blown out at the small end while the gold is kept at the larger end. This last operation cleans it ci ici-uy . Tornming, or washing with a Tom, which takes its name from the gun called the Long Tom, is carried on when there is water enough to get a stream sufficiently large to keep the Tom clear, which requires a pretty large stream to do it well. The Tom is a large hopper about fourteen or fifteen feet long, and from two to three feet wide. The lower end, for four or five feet, is made of iron with holes in it; and under the iron partis placed what h called the riffle box, which receives dirt and water. The Tom is placed with one end about three feet lower than the other, and the riffle box still more inclined. When the water reaches the box, it sets the dirt in motion, and as it rises it is carried away by the water; the gold sinking to the bottom, where no water can rise it. It usually takes three or four men to run a Tom ; two or three to shovel in the dirt and one to clear out the stones. Every night the riffle box is cleared out and the gold sepa rated by a rocker, as before described. Sluicing is done when water is still more plenty than when Tom is used. It is usually done on a side hill, where the water will run freely through the sluice boxes, so as to keep them clear. Thesa boxes sometimes reach twenty or thirty rods, being set in the ground just low enough to make it convenient to throw the dirt into them. These boxes have small pieces ol board nailed to the bottom about three or four feet apart to stop the gold. The dirt is thrown into these sluices, and the water does the rest; except that once a week they are cleaned in the same manner ac the riffle boxes of the Tom.” A Tiger’s Jaws. An officer of the British Army, in India, jives the following account of a remarkable ad venture of his :— Grice (a man of the 2Gth, stationed here) tnd I obtained two and a half months’ leave, on purpose to kill tigers, panthers and bears.— [laving made our preparations for the jungle, we started on the 19th of March, with a fine tand ; consisting of one big drum, one big bell, four small drums, and a pair of pistols always loaded with coarse powder, and being conlinu illy let off. The noise of this enneert was was sufficient to frighten any animal out of he jungle ; and when it was not, we had also some twenty or thirty men to set up a supple mentary yell. I should like you to have heard mr band turning a corner amongst the hills ! 3ur battery consisted of ten duuble guns— some rifles, the others smooth-bored—and two srace of pistols. We did nut commence firing intil the twentieth, when we began about nine n the morning ; our plan being always to get some half-a-mile before the beaters, and hav ng placed ourselves in some likely spot, sit piietly, and, if possible, concealed, until they sad beaten up to us. Owing to rain, we saw lothing until the twenty-second ; when, hav ng walked some five miles, we perched our selves, guns and all, on a small tree and put .lie beaters on. We had been in the tree about w’entv minutes, when Grice whispered to me, ‘Tiger !” I saw her almost at the same mo ment ; we fired fuur barrels, all of which took effect. She charged with frightful speed right under the tree in which we were sitting, and was into the jungle in a momont. Immediate ly afterwards a peacock began calling, a sure sign of a tiger being near; anil, sure enough, out came a young cub about the size of a dog ; this, Grice shot. We then began the ticklish work of* following up,’ generally done on ele phants; but, not being rich enough to sport mem, were lorccd to go on tout. We traced our prey about half-a-mile into the jungle, which was so thick that one could not see more than ten yards ahead. I separated some six or seven from Grice, and was in the act of looking down close to the ground ; when I heard a frightful roar ; and, before I had time literally to cock one barrel (I had imprudently gone in to the jungle with my piece on half-cock,) I felt myself jammed in the brute's jatvs. Site carried me about ten yards. My face, 1 believe, was touching Iter cheek, when Grice, with the most wonderful presence of mind, pot two bul lets into her ear. She dropped, hut still held me. Grice ran up, and before she was ac tually dead, pulled me out of her mouth. I am told that there was not two inches of space between my head and the spot where the bullets hit. Had Grice's baud shaken I should probably have been shot through the head, as he had a very small mark to fire at. I was perfectly conscious when pulled out uf the brute's mouth. The skin, of course, I kept as a trophy—it is nearly twelve feet long. The accident oc curred about fifty miles front camp; and if it had not been for Grice, God knows how 1 should ever have been taken back ; but he is well knuwn by the natives; in fact they are afraid of him, (his nickname is ‘Tiger Grice,’) and lie told them they would be well paid if they carried me to the next town, Jaat, about twelve miles off. After some little arrange ment, they carried me on my bed to Jaat, where Grice is almost worshipped, on account of having last year killed a tigress, which had at different times killed twenty-four of the vil lagers, and at the time Grice shot her, she was in the act of eating an unfortunate wo man. Twenty-four men were sent out from camp with a palanquin, to meet me. Grice rode all night by my side, and accompanied me within two miles of camp, when lie went back again to go on with iiis sport. It is more than a month since he has been heard from, but 1 hope he is all right. I suffered great agony from the moment 1 was bitten. My mother was always anxious about all her children's constitutions ; well, a very clever doctor told me that il l had nut had an iron constitution, it would have gone very hard with me. I am peileclly convalescent, walk about, and go out every evening in a kulkee; the wounds are healing, hut it is irritable to have one’s arm cunlinually slung up. I should like to send the skin to England, hut it is very large, and would be difficult to pack up; otherwise, it would make a nice rug. Cass’s Eulogy on Webster. Gen. Cass delivered a very eloquent eulo gy in ttie Senate on Mr. Webster. The fol lowing are the closing paragraphs: Our deceased colleague added the kindlier affections of the heart ill the lofty endow ments of the mind, and I recall, with almost painful sensibility,, the associations of our boyhood, when we were school fellows to gether, with all the troubles nnd the pleasures which belong to that relation in I tie in its narrow world of preparation. He rendered himself dear by his disposition and deport ment, and exhibited some ol those peculiar characteristic features, which later in life, made him the ornament of the social circle and when study and knowledge ol the world hat) ripened his faculties, endowed him with powers of conversation I have not lound sur passed in my intercourse with society, at home or abroad. 11 is conduct and bearing at that early period have left an enduring impression upon my memory of menial traits, which his subsequent course in life developed and confirmed, nnd the command ing position and ascendancy of a man were foreshadowed by the standing anil influence of the hoy,among the comrades who surround him. Filty-five years ago we parted—he to prepare for his splendid career in the gootl old land of our uncesters, and I to encounter the harsh toils nnd trials of hie in the great forest of the West. But ere long the report of his words and his deeds penetrated those recesses where human industry was painfully but eticcess j fully contending with the obstacles of nature, nnd l found that my early companion was assuming a position which confirmed my previous anticipations, nttd which could only be attained by the rare faculties with which he was gifted. Since then he tins gone on, irradiating his path with me splendor of his exertions, ltd the whole hemisphere was bright wait his glory ; and never blighter than when he went down in the west without n cloud to obscure his lustre, clear, calm and glorious. Fortunate in life, lie wag not less fortunate in death, for he died with his fame uudiininished, his faculties unbroken, and It is usefulness unimpaired: surrounded by weeping friends, and regarded with anxious solicitude by a grateful country, to whom the messenger that mocks at time nnci space told, from hour to hour the progress of his disor der and the approach of Ins fate. And lie* yond all this and heller than all th'.s, he died in the faith of a Christian, liumlile hut hope ful, adding another to the roll of eminent men, who have searched the gospel of Jesus, and found it ihe work and the w ill of God, given 10 direct us while here, and to sustain us in tlmt hour of trial when the things of this world arc passing away, and the dark valley of the shadow j( death is opening be* fore us. How are the mighty fallen, we may yet exclaim, when reft of our greatest ami wis est ; hut they fall to tise again, from death to life, when such quickening faith in the man of God and in the sacrifice of the Re deemer, comes to shed upon them its happy influence on this side of the grave or bevoud if. A Yankee Trick. It was a pretty eveuing in May, that a yankee pedlar might lie seen wiih his wagon going along the road to Petersburg. It was about eight an I a half o’clock, he s'opped at a small laveru near Petersburg. In the morn ing when he came down to breakfast, the laud lor <1 said he would not let him go until lie played a trick on some one. . The pedlar went quickly to his park, and look therefrom a box of rings, and said — * Do you want to htiy any of my gold rings set with diamonds?’ ‘ flow much do you waul for a box ?’ said the landlord. ‘ Ten dollars,' saiti the yankee, (there were four in the box.) ‘ Well,' said the landlord, ‘I’ll lake them,’ and he laid down ten dollars. The pedlat put his money in his wallet, went to his pack, got a bundle which lie unrolled, which proved to be a quilt. When the landlord’s wile saw it, she said — ‘ Uli, James, buy that, it will exactly match llie one I bought last year.’ ‘ Well, tVbat do you want for that?’ said James to llie pedlar. •Twenty dollars,' said the Yankee. ‘ Well, I’ll take it,’ said the landlord, and laid down the yellow shiner. ‘Now for llie trirk,’ says the Yankee, ‘I'll tell you what it is—at is to make a barrel of whiskey into five kinds of liquors. Now you have got a new barrel ol whiskey in your cellar, have you not !’ ‘ Yes,’ said the landlord. ‘ Well, come ahead,’ and away they went down the door into ilie cellar. The Yankee asked for an a 113111, with which he bored n small hole in die head, and mid the landlord 10 put his thumb in llie hole till lie bored die other. The landlord did as he was toid, and die oilier was soon bored. The Yankee said * put your oilier thumb on the odier hole while I go and get two pings. Away the Yankee went, and die landlord never saw him again. The landlord railed and railed and called again fur the pedlar, hut lie did not come; at last die landlord's wife heard his cries, and went down, lie tcld her all. She went ami got two plugs to put in die holes; they went lo die stable, die wagon, horse, and pedlar were gone. The landlord and wife went into die house. In a few days they foil ml iliat it was their own quill the Yankee pedlar had sold them, and hat die rings were brass, and the diamonds were bits of glass. Not so Funny, after all. The Cincinnati Commercial tells the fol lowing ‘true tale’— Jokes, though generally relished when perpetrated at others’ expense (ban our own, are somewhat dangerous commodities, nod at limes result disastrously to the parties concerned. A joke was played not long ■since in this city, that came not far from terminating disagreeably. A gentleman who luid been married some two mouths, became acquainted with a dash ing yuung fellow, who prilled himself, and justly, upon the prepossessing elfect his presence exercised upon the fair sex gener ally. The newly made benedict concluded it would he a good joke to introduce this gay Rolando to ft is spouse as nil unmarried lady, and observe the ludicrous consequence Ins little gnllnliiries would have, when he ob tained the knowledge that lie bad been vow ing all sorts of passionate adoration to an other man’s wile. This hrilitiint idea he put in practice, charging his consort lo pre serve the delusion under which his friend la bored. I lie yoinliIu I hero ivas in fact very much pleased with his new female acquaintance, declaring Ins warmest regard on every occa sion, and sinning the sweet contagion of her society, innil what began in a light spirit of gallantry, ended in nn actual affection. The wife, too, found tier youthful heau quite Ins cinalmg, ami extended to him a freedom, not warranted by tier matrimonial position. Matters were carried on 10 such an extent that nn elopement was proposed and accept ed. Soft nonsense aad softer kisses had ri elled illu snscepiihle heart of the young wife to a capacity for moulding, lliat her will and judgment could noi frtmrol. The husband obtained a him of what was about lo ensue, and alarmed al the uaiurrd result of his own fully, interceded in the very nick of lime to prevent an irremediable wound to his hopes anil honor, lie frustrated lire elopement, Inn obtained lire Insling resent ment of his wife, and now threatens a sep aration. The wisdom lacking liushimd disrelishes jokes of a combined character at present, and has discovered the folly of Iris former course. We would advise all persons, especially wo men, to avoid temptation, since nono are so invincible, they may nut fall. In the truth ful language of Addison : When love once pleads admission to our hearts, In spite of all the virtue we can boast, The woman w ho deliberates is lost. In Vino Veritas. Mr. B-,n distinguished advocate and attorney-general of a far ‘down east' state, was sitting with his lint ovet his eyes, ami his chin on his breast, bolstered up on either side with chairs and table, and sleeping i s comfortably ns 'the indomitable spirit of gin’ would allow, in the court house at A-, when the ‘conn’ entered and took his seal on the bench. Observing the situation of Mr. B—-—, which had not changed at the en trance of‘the court,’ the judge looked at the sheriff who seemed to understand that il W3s his rluty to get the sleeper into ‘condi tion.’ ‘ Mr. B-, the court is in.’ 1 won’t give the reply. Suffice it to say, the sheriff hatf a decided objection to going io ihe murky and sulphurous place to which lie was consigned. ‘Mr. B—said the judge,‘we have ob served, with profound rrgrei, yuur condtici during the las; week; and this morning we find you in no better condition to lake up | your cases than before. We are disposed to besr with you no longer. You disgrace yourself and your family, ‘the court,’ sad the profession, by your course of conduct.' 1 his reproof solicited die following colloquy i ‘ Did your honor sneak to me?’ ‘1 did, sir! ‘ What re mark di-iiid you make? ‘I said, sir, that in my opinion, you dis grace yourself and fumily, the court, and the profession, by your course of conduct.’ ‘ w-*« P'e«se your honor, I hare been an attorney in-in in this court for fifteen years ; and permit me to say, your honor, that is ihe first cor rect opinion 1 ever knew you to give!’ Be Comprehensive. Talk to the point and stop when yau have reached it. The faculty some possess of making one idea cover a quire of paper, is not good for much. Be comprehensive in all you say or wine. To fill a volume upon nothing is a credit to nobody ; though turd Chesterfield wrote a very clever posm upon nothing. There are men who get one idea into their heads, mid hut one, nnd they make the most of it. You can see ii and almost feel it when in their presence. On all occasions it is produced till it is worn us thin as char ity. They remind us of a twenty-lour pound er discharged at a humming-bird—you hear a tremendous noise, see a volume of smoke, hut you look in vain for the effects. The bird is scattered lo atoms. Just so with the idea. It is enveloped in a eloud and lost amid (he rumbling of words and nourishes. Short letters, sermons, speeches nod paragraphs, are favoriles wilh us.— Commend us to the young man who wroie to Iris father—Dear Sir, I am going to be marriedand also to the old gentleman who replied—“ Dear Son, go uliend.” Such are Ihe men for action. They do more than iliey say. They are worth their weight in gold lor every purpose in lile.— Reader he short ; and no will be short with the advice. Ono Thing at a Time. One thin* at a time, iny dear fellow—one thing at a time. If you attempt to lift both the twins and your wife over tlte stream at once, you will probably drop the doll of one ol the little ones, amt the bonnet of the other, and set the wife down ankle deep into the stream. Some men of extraordinary gifts can rock the cradle and read the paper at the same time; but few can stir the hominy nntl calculate an eclipse at once, without burning the one and postponing the other a year or two. You may put ns many irons in the fire as the furnace will hold, if you time them rightly about their coming nut.—■ But don't, try to hniniiier out nil nt once, nor attempt to shape an eel spear and a horse shoe nail ut the same blow. A wise builder will have the masons I my here, and the car penters there, nut! the work proceeding with equal pace; hut lie does not draw op a spec ification fur a new house while he is draught ing the plan ><f another. We may set out a ttce that will he growing while we sleep, iv ind up a clock that will run its round w hile we run up town on an errand; liut we don’t set out tiees nor wind clocks w hile running of etrumls or while asleep. It is wise In have things so situated that there he no cliipcks between our jobs ; no lime wasted in taking up another. But it is wasteful to turn front one undertaking to unrulier while yet fresh enough to push tlte first on to a conclusion. One tiling at a time, and that thoroughly, is the serret of success in all great attainments. Crowd the inspiration in between narrow banks too narrow to al low of two jobs to tide abreast, nnd you can float down it anv task you have attempted though as large among your common labors ns a seventy-four is among other slii|p>. But widen the stream to accommodate a score to trilling tasks, and half of them w ill stick at sand liars and he left lor another tide. — 2V. Y. Times. Coolness and Skill. An East Indian sword player declared, at a festival, that lie could cut n small lime laid on a man’s hand without injury to the member; ami the General (Sir Charles Napier) extended his right hand for trial. The sword-player awed by ilia rank, was reluctant, and cut the fruit horizontally. Bring urged to fulfill his boast, he examined the palm, stud it was not one to he ex; erimented with, nnd refused to proceed. The General then extended Ilia left hand, which was admitted to he suita ble in form; yet tlte Indian still declined the trial, anil when pressed, twice waved his thin, keen edged blade as if to strike, and twice withheld the Itlovv. declaring he was uncertain of success. F.nally he was forced to make a trial ; and the lime fell op en, clearly divided —the edge ol the sword lindjnsi marked its passage over the skin without drawing one drop of hlood. 't his incident, which speaks ns much for the Gen eral’s conlne-s arid nerve as for the sword mail’s skill, we give on ilie authority of a work published in Lx n<’on some lime ago, entitled, ‘Sir Charles Napier’s Administra tion in Scinde. ” Origin of Foolscap. Every school-ltoy knows vvliat foolscap pi peris, hut we doubt whether one in a hundred that d; ily use t, can tell why it was so culled. When Olivet Cromwell became Protector, after the execution of Charles I„ he caused the stamp of the cap of liberty to lie placed upon the paper used lay the government.— Soon after the restoration of Charles II., having occasion to me some paper for de spatches, some of this Government paper was lirougltt to him. On looking nt it anil discovering the stamp, he inquired the mean ing of it, nnd on being told, lie said, ‘Take it away ; I’ll have nothing to do with a fool’s cap.’ Thus originated the term Foolscap, which has since been applied to a size of writing paper, usually about sixteen hy thirteen inch es. Oh! Excellent Taste. It appears that among the tf ig« surrounding the coffin of Wellington, when it lay in state at Chelsea Hospital, was one which was captured at Washington when the Felernl capital wa* sacked in the war of 1812. As trophies of that kind are rather scarce in London, this particular flag being the enlv one there, it is perhaps, not surprising that it was produced oil the late occasion ; yet we should linve thought, considering the marauding charac ter of the expedition in which it was ob tained, that the managers of the ceremonial Would have seen that there was more dis grace thnn glory in thus boastingly exhibit ing it. Moreover, its display was an inRull to the deceased. Wellington frequently : characterized ihi sack of Washirgton as an act of vandalism, and had he f>een living, would have spurned die exhibition, in any ceremonial 1111611111*11 for hi* honor, of the flag in question. Englnud would he wise to conceal, ns far as possible, every token of that atrocity. To parade the proofs of her shame in this manner, and on such an occa sion, is meretriciously exposing her own disgrace at a time when she should wish to he most respected. Should the United States ever imitate the late ceremoninl, which we nust she nevir will, a score of British ensigns could he prodnead, fr« m Cornwallis to New Orleans, which could be exhibited without disgrace, aj least, disgrace to ourselves. — Phil. Bulletin. ‘I’m afloat! I’m nfloat!’ scienmetl out a young lady of powerful lungs and fingers to match, as she exercised both at the piano. ‘ You are afloat, eh?’ growled an old sea dog ; *1 should judge you were afloat by the squall you raised.’ If a tnnu complains to you of his wife, a woman of Iter husband, a parent of a child, or a child of a parent, bo very cautious how you meddle between such near relations, to blame the behavior of one to the other.— You will only hnve the hatred of both |>*r ties, and do no good with either. But this lues nut hinder your giving both parlies, or either, your beat advice in a prudent man ner.