White Cloud Kansas chief. [volume], June 25, 1857, Image 1

About White Cloud Kansas chief. [volume] (White Cloud, Kan.) 1857-1872

Image provided by: Kansas State Historical Society; Topeka, KS

                
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SOLe KILLER, EDITOR AND PUBLISHES . THE CONSTITUTION AND THE UNION. TERMS $2.C0 PER AXXDI, l ADTiXCE.
VOLUME I, WHITE CLOUD, KANSAS, THURSDAY, Jl)NE 25, 1857. NUMBER 4.7":
I
1'
1 ? JOE
71 L
1.
1 1
Met pdij.
OTT-t FLAG.
tfiafhaat, aad xe
. a M of (he free
i it
With tkeir Be ear
Mdraaae
aVeiravavsl
Lot tt wave, aad n7 the aalioal,
Be theraeer area they far,
Waaak In warier; whliiiai,
Aad above their faidiaf Ur.
Lit (be atriekea mm behold it,
A tbrr wipe away a Mr
Weald God each aae mU bid it
Tiwal their fane, witkoot a tear.
Iltac ft eat, aad ( it boldly.
Hover fcaf a aiaiea'i kale;
There are the who Ion aae eoldly,
, The an thaeo who wuck in fan.
Oair thtrteea apeaflea traced it,
Whea it tnt (panics' ia view;
t aow flaitj eao ia keaaty
' Clioer o a leld of btae.
VMber raaad it, awa aid aaioea,
Aa flu Beetlec MaMata raa;
Let the very air Im adea
With!
tSTCVrr a who are ia the habit af praaekiaf Wf
anaMaa darta tba da daye, win plfSM rata taa Mlawiaf
liaaa, aJilwa la ttWai bjr a riiai-
Oft baaaaca tky gaatte praaekiaf,
Tidaaa mt taa anaaibaal caaaa.
Of pardaaaa aUaan.taaeliaJ aa waapiag,
OTatiaia aa taagar aW aad aaaab.
Mr awa aaaar aiaa caataaaa aw,
I h(ia la fear aal aaaaa;
Bat taa aiaaan, alaapiaf raaal
8aan aa laaa taat I awake!
Tfcaa art aat a torn of dnaaar,
Bat tksa briafaat ran t aD;
ftoaa afiia 1 aiak ia alambw
raiaar iD Oiy aoenu ML
Ta taa waarr, kaary ladaa,
FaU tkj wmit HU arose sT kalm
Slaeaiaf roalk aaa aeddiaf BaiaVa,
Bleaa aVy aaaaati salt aaa eaha.
kM Ml'
BUNKER'S COURTSHIP.
A TALE OF A BAG OF BEANS.
fSHi waa a blojr awt a tody x -
U'akuefkWan,
Caa a kady tall a bodr
Wkat a bode naiV rOia Pom.
urerT bod In the count? of Esses has heard
om Banker, udthe quips and crank by him
Tereted. In tr ha was a faaoos fellow in his
of Joi N noted lofbockwhackin; rusticity of breed
anjetaj tBat hisiaau) has passed into a prorerb and
dy,Me BiaVmmortal. Jo Banker's character is
lng tht'J?rded by all the old cronies and gonips
nads hinNorth-East comer of Massachusetts as
now regs&san ideal of a genuine unsophisticated
in the Jkee clodhopper.
(J,, f Hia faaa ier taa aritea reasl the csaatrf ram,
Aad all Ike aid ladiaa eaDtd kia a aaeer aaa.
He was the first man in these parts that ertr
picked bis teeth with a wooden shoe. Various
' other fashions introduced by him are in the re
membrance of many, but it is not our purpose
now to specify them. The story cf his courtship
aad ths bag of beans is nat so common; it runs
that:
It was sometime in the month of April or May,
-or at any rate, just at the time of planting of
beans, of all the days in the year of a Sunday,
that Joe being at meeting, spied Colonel Shute's
daughter Hannah. It was In prayer time, (they
make terrible long prayers in that part of the
-country) and Joe was hanging orer the pew door
In about the shape of a figure, tired to death
aad wriggling himself about in as awkward and
douching a fashion a could well be imagined.
- Joe looked at Hannah, and Hannah looked at
Joe. It is pretty certain that the little hedge
Ttog Cupid shot off a pair of hia quills at the
eame instant, for Hannah was struck with a rery
queer sensation, aad as for Joe, he felt some
thing which he could not exactly describe ex
eept by saying that it was a kind of an all -over
seas like.
This is all we happen to know of the first
Item in this ehapter of accidents. The next
warning Joe lay in bed so long that his father
began to grumble, aad presently hit mother
came up stairs.
- ConcJoe." taid she, . get up aad go to
plan ting yoar beans."
-1 eenV said Joe, - r sick."
"Sick! -What's the nutter with yomT What
ails ton V
Why I don't know what aUi me; nor I don't
want to tell."
"Don't want ta tell! a fiddlestick; let us know
what it to." .
Jot' hid his bee under the blanket for some
time, aad at last blubbered out, "I want to g
aad see the CoVooel'i Hannah."
Sown goes the old woman and reports pro
ceeding to her husband.
M What," said old Bunker, he go to are the
Colonel's Hannah I tell hia to come instantly
and plant his betas." The old woman runs back
and tells this to Joe. - x
- But Joe was hard to work anon. He wai
granite; he was adamant; there was no soften
lng him, no moriag him. Ton might as easily
hare shouldered Oldtown Hill from Us founds
ion as lure made him start a peg.
"I wont go to planting beaos; I will go and
see the Colonel's Hannah."
'J This wss all she could get out of him, and so
she paddled eeT again to her husband.
" itsally, Mr. Banker, there's no getting Joe
to mind; he ssys he won't go to planting beans
nor touch, them; and he will go and see the Co
lonel's Hannah. Now do 1st the poor boy hare
hi way for once; remember you was once a
young man yourseIC"
This was bringing the matter home, and old
Bunker, though he was no logician, nor imagin
ed how the thing could be preyed in BeraJistoa
or Ferifs, yet he thought the reasoning so pat to
the purpose that he fairly yielded-
m Well, well, let him take Dobbin and go, but
not stay long.
But," said Jee, on hearing this, " I won't go
without I can go grmnd, and I won't hare old
Dobbin." So off goes the old woman once more
with this Intelligence-
" Well, then," said old Bunker, "he may go
era-tut, and let him take old Bob."
"But I won't ride jupon old Bob," said Joe.
-rUhaTePossett."-
" Then take Possett," said .his father, " and
make haste back."
Hereupon Joe began to bristle about with all
speed, and bedizen himself out in his Sunday's
best He was a strapping, bony, long-sided fel
low. It would do you good to see him dressed
in the fashion of that day astride of his nsg.
Joe had just bestowed a heavy kick upon the
ribs of bis Rosinante at setting out for the Co
lenel's, when old Bunker bawled after him, "hal
loo, Joe! stop, tliere, cone bactf again. Ton
are going by Pearson's mill, and you shall take
a couple of bags of com, to be ground while
you go to the Colonel's, and bring it back with
you when you come away; so you can kill two
dogs with one stone."
Joe was inclined to demur to this plan of mix
ing business, but bating to waste time arguing
with his father, he assented, and shambling off
to the bam, brought out his two bags and bes
towed them snugly raj croupe. Thus fairly ac
coutred, he trotted off to the mill.
" Pearson, caa ye grind my grist while I go
to Colonel Sbute's."
H Yes, Joe, but what are you going a courting
for, so earl j T"
- Ob, who the dickens told youT"
M Never mind, Joe, pluck up courage; faint
heart never won fair lady."
" Thank ye for nothing," said Joe. I shall
be back in an hour. Don't let your horse eat
out of the hopper." So off he started for the
Colonel's."
Joe bolted in at the Colonel's door without
knocking. Indeed it is affirmed 'he was never
known to be guilty of making such a superfluous
noise in all his life.
" Ah, Mrs. Shute, the top of the morning to
ye; wnere s nannan7"
" An' Joe Bunker, is that you 7" Where's Han
nah? why she's up stairs a spinning."
At this Joe stamped off up stairs without any
farther idle palaver.
Hannah's wheel was humming right merrily
when Joe entered, and she blushed like a bine cat
upon seeing bim. ,
M How d'ye do, HannauT" said Joe, ana sham
bling up toward the window, he slouched him
self into a marvellously uncomfortable skewing
p03iton on the comer of a chair.
Well! now was Joe lairly seated alongside or
his Dulcinea; but how to begin conversation;
ah, there was the difficulty. What was he to
say 1 indeed be had never thought df that. How
ever, be looked out at the window and saw a
large flock of sheep; there is nothing like ta
king a hint from the first tiling that effcrs.
Are these your father's sheep, Hannah 7
Ys, Joe."
Joe gave a hem and tried to think of same-
thing else to say about the sheep; such as bow
much wool they gave, and whether tbey were of
the Byfield breed, but he could not maket kidge.
Presently he espied some cows:
" Are these your cows"-'
- Yes."
"How many cows have you golf
"Twenty."
" Twenty! that's a tarnation lot of 'em."
Here was another pause in the conversation,
and Joe felt more awkwardly than ever. As for
Hannah she did not feel altogether quite as
sheepish. Joe looked out of the .vindow again,
but could see nothing to talk of. He looked
round the room and up to the ceiling, but there
was nought save a seed cucumber, three red pep
pers and a crook-necked squash. They would
tot suit He drummed with his finger upon the
table, and began unconsciously to whistle a stave
of " The Tongs and the Bones;" this quavered
away into Yankee Doodle, and finally he found
himself humming a mixture of the Old Hundred
and Little Marlborough. At last he was struck
with an Idea, and out it came
" Did you ever see a crow?"
"Yes."
How black '.hey are, ain't they?"
"Yes."
Another pause. Joe began to wipe his fore
head with his coat sleeve. .. Presently the appa
rition of another idea dawned upon him.
m Did yoa ever see an ewlT"
. "Yes.".
What great eyes they've got, hain't they 1"
"Yes."
" Do yon love maple sugar, Hannah T"
"Yes."
" Next time I come, IU bring you a great
ooe."
Joe fairly made a hit in this remark, for he
touched upon a sweet subject and it completely
broke the ice. Remembering the advice of the
miller, he plucked up courage aad stood bolt
upright; then making a side-long blundering sort
of a hitch a little nearer, " Hannah," says he,
-1 loves ye." -
Hannah let go her wheel from pure awkward
ness, and Joe growing still bolder, made a rod
den grapple with both paws and bestowed upon
her a smacking buss that made the very windows
rattle. How long it lasted never was known.
but Hannah's mother not bearing the wheel box
ting, bawled out below, Hannah, what are you
doing up there with Joe Bunker?" This inter
ruption gave them a rouse like aa electric shock.
Joe clawed off in a terrible fright, thinking it
was time to cut and run. - " Hannah," said be,
I must clear out; but TO come again next
Sunday night" So saying he made the best of
his way off; hardly looking behind him.
Well, Pearson, have you ground my com
" Yes, Joe, and your beans too."
"Beans! what d'vewmeanT"
" What do I mean! why was one not s bag of
corn, and 'tother a bag of beans T'
"No.itwan't"
" Yes. it was though."
" Bugs and tarnation! waa it? then I'm rain
ed! I've made a mistake and took the wrong
bag. I snaggers! father'JJ kill me; 'awsfall
the beans we'd got for seed! what the dickens
shall I do? Oh, murder , and white-oak cheese!"
In a terrible peck of trouble, Joe got upon
Possett with his bags, now thinking of Hannah
and then of his unfortunate grist Half way
home he met his father upon old Bob; he was
belaboring his sides with might and main, ho
ping to get to the mill in time to save his beans,
for he had discovered Joe's blander on going out
to plant
" Oh, Joe, Joe, yoa chowderhead, yoa blun
dering numskull! you've carried the beans to
mill! and I've come on a canter all the way to
save them from being ground."
" It's too late now, father, for they are all
ground to smash!"
How the old man stormed and vowed Joe
should pay for them, and how Joe attempted to
clear himself by tellinir lies about finding the bag
in the wrong place, we have not time to state.
The old man laid an embargo on Joe's courting
expeditions, and spoke to the Colonel about
keeping Hannah snug at home, but Joe stole a
march upon the old ones, and struck a bargain
with a sexton to publish him and Hannah in a
sly fashion.' The nutter being conducted elan-
deeentlf.tta Deacon Sobersides remarked, it was
a match before anybody could interfere. So the
Ion? and short of it is, that the agriculture of
the Bunker farm was knocked completely out of
joint that year, by Joe's courtship aad blunder
of the bags, for there were more turnips raised
than pulse, a thing not heard of before among
the Bankers since the Pilgrims came over. Joe
got a good wife and saved his bacon, but lost his
beans.
Pi5trite0it5e
THE WHITE SLAVE.
Twaa tima to iht, aad the chimin bell
Pealed oat the koor we loved ao well
The hoor of rvleaee fraa ear wearr toil;
Aad we beard the eoaad with a Unratd mlla.
Which pnred e'er one faere, as pale aad waa,
' Aa atarlirbt aa atreaaa, erhea the day li row.
We kearJ the-anrter, with heaty feet.
Pan to aad fra ia the baiy itrret.
At the awaderoaa shatter, forth be hrierht,
Aad our beam from hia,while a (ladae tmtbp
Aad tW e; f Hie 1 of waa ,! to err nrt.
At BnHcal baft from the hesrealy tpbrrca.
A tight nrp panes the thmhhold o'er
We are priMaea, saw for aa beer or met a
For the eilverr voice and the roidea treaa
Salon; to one who woald ehooaa a dren;
Ebe ia hard ro plea, aad aha eoaeth lite
Abu aha! for the abopmaa! fatal
Let Me Die Quietly.
Re itiTI make ao aoieo-let aaa die fmiett rn
Preiideat Klra.
"Be still !" The hour of the soul's depar
ture Is st hand; Earth is fading from its vision;
Time is gliding from its presence! Hopes that
cluster around young life, that swell in the bo
som of manhood, have fallen from around tt like
the forest leaves, when the frosts of Autumn
have chilled them unto death. Ambition with
its hollow promises, and pride, with its lofty
looks have vanished away. The world, with its
deeeitfulness; pleasure, with its gilded tempta
tions, sre gone; and alone, tn utter destitution
of all that time promised it, must start on its
solemn journey across the valley of the shadow
ofdeath!
" Make no noise!" Let the tumult of life
cease. Let no sound break the soul's commu
nion with itself ere it starts on its retornless
flight Trouble it not with the accents of sor
row. Let the tear stand still on the cheek of
affliction; and let not the wailing of grief break
the solemn silence of the death scene. Let it
gather the accents that come from within the
dark shadows of etemi'y, saying to it, come
home. A far off music comes floatinp- to it on
the air. 'Tis the sound of the heavenly harps
touched by Viewless fingers mar not the har
mony by the discord of earth.
" Let me die quietly!" The commotions of
life, the straggles of ambition, the strife and
waning with human destiny are over. Wealth
accumulated must be scattered; honors won
must be resigned; and all the triumphs that
come within the range of human achievements
must be thrown away. The past, with its trials,
its transgressions, its aocnmulaaing responsibil
ities, its clinging memories, its vanished hopes,
is rendering up to the future accountdisturb
not the quiet of that awful reckoning. Speak
not of fading memories, of affections whose ob
jects perish in their loveliness, like the flowers
of Spring, or wither in a slow decay. Talk not
of an earthly home where loved ones linger,
where a seat will soon be vacant, a cherished
voice hashed forever, or of the desolation that
will seat itself by the hearthstone. The soul is
at peace with God; let it pass calmly away.
Heaven is opening upon its vision. The bright
turrets, the tall spires, the holy domes' of the
Eternal City, are emerging from the spectral
darkness, and the glefy of the Most High is
dawning around them. The whit. throne is glis
tening in the distance, and the white-robed an
gels are beckoning the weary spirit to its everlast
ing home. What is life that it should be clung
to longer? What the joys of the world that
they should be regretted? What has earth to
place before the spirit of a man to tempt its stay
or turn it from its eternal rest? Albany Jlr fit
ter. " Be not grieved above measure for thy de
ceased friends; they are not deal, but nave on
ly finished that journey which h is necessary for
every one of us to take. We ourselves must go
to that place of reception, in which they are all
of them assembled; aad in this general rendez
vous of mankind. Eve together in another state
of being." Satiate ae.
" The smiles of home " are exceedingly plea
sant, but there are many people who nave good
homes, whe prefer " smiling " with a friend nut-
aide-.
Energy.
There sre two classes of people in this world.
The one who upon king baffled at the outset of
any new enterprise, sit despondingly down and
abandon t forever the other who a as aroused
and exr5jjQ(ed ? defeat to the ex Vis? of new
law, ii.Tence, and of government as well as
of the arts, or of the mere material edifices of
the earth which like those of Egypt or Yuca
tanof Rome or London remain from century
to century to glorify tkeir authors. It was no
vacillating genius which piled up the vast mar
bles of Th'cbcs, the Graaites of Alexandria or
the Porphyry of Babylon. The pandects of Jus
tinian, the code of Alpboazo the wise, or Buo
naparte, were not the work of minds Impatient
of effort and averse to labor. The marvellous
perfection also to which the mechanic arts are
brought, exhibit the triumph of patient labor
over difficulty, and ballingdefeat oftentimes en
dured but ultimately mastered. And so it is in
all things. Kihil fine labtre. This is the law
of life. To attain any cud or object which is
estimable among mankind, we must reconcile
ourselves to frequent disappointment and to per
severing effort If we are taidious, every earth
ly obstacle will finally vanish from our path; but
if we are not so, difficulty will multiply upon
difficulty, and doubt upon doubt, until overwhel
med with despondency we are crushed and van
quished. The great Frederick of rrtssia in his first
battle fled the field. Some temporary disaster
inspired him with a panic, and believing that all
was lost, he ran a long day's journey in the great
est precipitation. On the following morning his
generals overtook bim with diilciilly and ap
prised bim that he had met with a crowning vic
tory. The monarch could 'scarcely credit it
The lesson however was not lost upon him. He
was afterwards not only more steadfast and more
brave, but his renown as a wamor gradually fill
ed Europe and the world, ai d it was left as an
inheritance to Prussia and constituted in after
generations a rampart of strength f.-r the king
dom. In short it is bet the first step which tries
us in every enterprise. LiL the musician when
he first touches his instnimt at like the penman
when he first grasps the pen like the mechanic
when for the first ime be takes in hand the tool
which he afterwards rot anth ease and skill
of x ric:"iTaij!-iuAi evtr compell
ed in our progress towcrd perfection togo slow
ly and painfully thrcrfh a condition of imper
fection. Let us never despond, therefore, nor
let us ever beiiere that there are any insurmoun
table obstacles to humin advancement If we
habituate ourselves to ftel that labor is intoler
able, and difficulty unconquerable, we shall grow
worthless and iucapabie, and like the herds
which perish leave no memorial of our wisdom
or our n orks to future times.
Apart, however, from all considerations of am
bition there are considerations of duty intimate
ly wrapped up in this subject, bich should not
escape our notice. Such as sre are, such will our
children be who follow after us. Those habits
of mind which grow settled and confirmed with
us, bcccaie at length a part of our organization.
Our intellectual and ncrrous structures imbued
and s haped by them, and like the features of the
face and of the outward body, these traits of the
inner man will go down to our posterity and work
out results whether for good or evil upon their
lives and characters. If parents possess char
acters of inflexible integrity from the long and
steady practice of virtue, their children will in
herit them. But if parents indulge themselves
in a relaxation of principle if they steal if
they lie, if tbey cheat they should suffer no
surprise to find their offspring inheriting their
own natures, and in the prison or on the scaffold
expiating those crimes a Inch they have thus ta
ken by inheritance. These reflections should
render energy the most exalted of our virtues.
We should teach ourselves to feel that not only
can we in its exercise triumph over the trials
and obstacles of life, but that in its practice we
may lay up for ourselves and our children a store
of virtuous principles and qualities which will
constitute for as a blessing aad for firm the rich
est inheritance that was ever entailed upon an
heir. Frmnlford HermU.
None Stas n Alo.xb It is the providence of
God that none stand alone; we touch each oth
er; man acta on man, heart oi heart; we are
bound up tn each other; hand is joineu in hand;
wheel sets wheel in motion ; we are spiritually
linked together,arm in arm; we cannot live alone,
nor die alone; we cannot say, I will only run
rifks with my own soul I am prepared to diso
bey the Lord for such a gain, but I do not want
to implicate others, I only want to be answera
ble for myself. This cannot be. Etch living
soul has its influence on others in some way and
to some extent, consciously or unconsciously;
each has some power, more or less direct; one
mind colors another; s child acts on children;
servants on our fellow-servants; parents on their
children; masters on these whom tbey employ;
friends on friends. Even when we do not de
sign to influence others, when we are not think
ing in the least degree of the effect of what we
do, when we are unconscious that we have any
influence at all, wbea we do not wish, our con
duct or way of life, our conversation, our deeds,
are all the while having weight somewhere or
somehow; our feet leave their impression.
though we may not look behind us to see the
mark.
ExTaacr. Th e velvt boss grow on a ster
ile rock the mistletoe flourishes on she naked
branches the ivy clings to the mouldering ru
ins the pine and cedar remain fresh and tide
!ee amid the mutations of the passing year; and
Heaven be praised, something green, something
beautiful to see and grateful to the soul, will in
the darkest hour of fate, still twine its tendrils
around the crumbling altars and broken arches
of the desolate temples of the humaa heart
He who complimt nt i another with hearty wish-
j es to his face, and afterwards degrades his rep-
trtati'in, is a doub!e-Ur.pnd hyjexrite.
ta!a J y sucAj. laltffue the
gre r- cts o our rate, Tba V ects of
A Visit to the Sitter of Robert Burni.
A European correspondent of the Central
Presbyterian furnishes that paper with an ac
count of a visit to the sister of Robert Boras,
in Scotland. The writer says:
Wo visited an eminence which commanded a
view of " the Castle of Montgomerie," where
Highland Mary lived, and then we went to the
spot where she and Bums had their last meet
ing. A little brook separated them, across which
they extended their hands, holding between
them a Bible, over which they made their vows
of unchanging constancy. Shortly after. High
land Mary died. I saw that Bible in a collection
of relics of the kind, and read on the fly leaf a
verse taken from Leviticus, I think, about fidel
ity in kpeeing vows, written by Burns for Mary.
Fastened to the same leaf was a yellow ringlet
To me it was something to see a lock of High
land Mary's hair.
Returning to Ayr, we passed a pretty little
residence, half hidden by shrubbery, In which
Mrs. Bcgg, the only surviving sister of the poet.
resides. Arresting our carriage at the door, I
rang the bell. A pleasant looking young woman
answered it. Said I, " Would it be agreeable
to Mrs. Begg to receive a call from some trav
ellers from the United States, who wish to pay
her their respects?" " O, yes," the prompt an
swer was, " my aunt is always delighted to see
visitors from America." She ushered us into
the parlor, and after waiting a few moments, a
little bright-eyed, quick-moving old lady came
rustling in. I excused our visit, on the ground
of a natural desire to see a relative of one whose
writings were known and admired in every part
of the United States. She was evidently pleased
with the compliment, and answered, "I'm think
ing ye ken a great deal about Robert ia Ameri
ca;" and added, that she received more calls
from gentlemen from " the States " than from
sny other part of the world. She showed us
some letters of her brother, written in a bold
round hand; also an original portrait, which she
declared was a correct likenefa. Mrs. Begg is
the Jenny of " The Cotter's Saturday Night"
Bat hark ! a np cone feat! to the door;
Jcanr. wba bene the BKaainf of tb aamo,
TalU bow a (eebar htd eSaw wret the aner;
To do aone errands, aad eoarer her fcaan.
One of my friends made an allusion to the
fact that she waa the original of this picture.
She only laughed and answered, " perhaps the
less that is said about that the better."
Mr. Arthur's 1st work, "The Tongne of
Fire," contains many striking paragraphs. Here
is one:
Suppose yon esff an army sitting down before
a granite fort, and they told us they intended to
batter it down, we might ask them how. They
point to a cannon ball. Well, but there is no
power in that; it ia hesvy, but not more than
half a hundred, or perhaps a hundred weight;
but if all the man in the army hurled it against
the fort, they would make no impression. They
sny, no; but look at the cannon. Well, there
is no power in that; a child may ride upon it, a
bird may perch in its mouth it is a machine,
and nothing more. But look at the powder.
Well, there is no power in that; a child may
spill it, a sparrow may peck it Yet this power
less powder and powerless ball arc put into the
powerless cannon; one spark of fire enters it,
and then, in the twinkling of an eye, that pow
der is a flash of lightning, and that ball a thun
derbolt, which smites ss if it had been sent from
heaven. So it is with our church machinerv of
this day we have all the Instruments necessary
for pulling down strong-holds, and 0 for the bap
tism of fire.
. Tnt PakTixs Hoc a. The hour is coming
and it is a fearful and solemn hour, even to the
wisest and best the hour is coming when we
must bid adieu to the scenes which please us, to
the families we love, to the friends we esteem.
Whether we think, or whether we think not,
that body, which is now warm and active with
life, shall be cold and motionless with death.
Th countenance must be pale, th eyes must
be closed, the voice must be silenced, the senses
must be destroyed, the whole appearance must
be changed by the remorseless hand of our last
enemy. We may banish the remembrance of I
the weakness of our human Nature; but our re
luctance to reflect upon it, and our attempts to
drive it from our recollection are in vain. We
know that we are sentenced to die; end though
we sometimes succeed in casting off for a sea
son the conviction of this unwelcome truth, we
can never entirely remove it The reflection
haunts us still; down with us at night, it awa
kens with us in the morning. The irrevocable
doom has passed upon as, and too well do we
know it " Dust thou art, and onto dust thou
shalt return." TncntenJ.
Thi Laxccacc or Momra Easts. Plants
are, as it were, the most direct language of the
earth. Every new leaf, every arrange flower, is
some secret that is pressing forth, and which,
because it cannot speak for joy and love, be
comes a mute, quiet plant When we find such
a flower in a solitary place, dees it not seem ss
if everything around waa trans-figured, and as
if the little feathered ones loved best to dwell
in its vicinity? Over the whole dry world is
flung the green mysterious carpet of lore- With
every spring it is made new, and its strange wri
ting is only known to be beloved, Cke the po
sies of the Orient Forever will he read, and
never read his fil; and daily b comes aware of
new revelations of living nature. "
We Shajx Mnr Agaims la the beautiful
drama of Ion, the instinct of immortality, so el
oquently uttered by the death-devoted Greek,
finds a respon se in every thoughtful soul. When
about to yield his young existence as a sacrifice
to fate, his beuotbedClemanthe, asks if they
shall not meet again, to which he replies: I
have asked that dreadful question of the bills
that look eternal; of the flowing streams that
! flow forever; of the stars among whose fields of
azure my raised spirit hath walked ia glory.
All were dumb. But while I gaxe upon thy liv
ing face, I feel there's something ia thy love
which mantles through its beauty, that cannot
holly perih. We sWII meet again, Cle-manth."
A Esantifnl Ticht.
It was night Jerusalem slept as quietly amid
her bills aa a child upon the breast of its moth
er. The noiseless sentinel stood like a statue
at his post, and the philosopher's lamp burnt !
dimlv in the recesPof hi3 chamber.
. But O, dark nifht was rw tbrosd trpaa the ! baund with duplets dipped in the blood of count
earth. A moral darknus involred the nations j 'ess nation.-, looked down upon a wonquered
in its benighted stadows. Reason shed a faint I world, and wept that there was not another for
glimmering over the minds of men, like the cold '. bim to conquer; set fire to a city, and died ia a
inefficient shining of a distant -star. Theimmo- scene of dsbaurh.
rality of man's spiritual nature was milmown, , Haxisal, after having, to the astonishment
his relations to heaven or.diseot ered, and his vul consternation of Rome, passed the Alps;
future destiny obscured in a cloud of mystery, j after having put to flight the armies of the mis
It was at this period, two forms of ethereal j tre!!S of the worlJ, anJ stripped tlure bushels of
mould hovered over the land of God's people, j g'd rings from the fingers of her slaughtered
They seemed like sister ar.gels sent to the earth kai;ht.. and made her foundation quake fled
on some embassv of love. The one was of ma -! from nis country, hated by those who once ex-
jestic stature, and in "the well formed limbs
which her snowy drapery hardly concealed, in
an impressive gesture upwards, where night an-
peared to have placed her darkest pavilion, while
on her left reposed her delicate companion, in
form and countenance the contrast of the other,
for she was drooping like a fhwer when moisten
ed by refreshing dews, and her bright but trou
bled eyes scanned the air with ardent but vary
ing glances. Suddenly a light like the sun flash
ed out from the Heaven, and Faith and Hope
hailed with exulting songs the ascending Star
of Bethlehem.
Years rolled sway, and a stranger was seen
in Jesusalem. He was a meek, unassuming man,
whose happiness seemed to consist in acts of be
nevolence to the human race. There were deep
traces of sorrow on his countenance, though no
one knew why he grieved, for he lived in the
practice of every virtue, and was loved by all
the good and wise. By and by it was rumored
that the stranger worked miracles! That the
blind saw, the dumb spoke, and the dead leaped
to life at his touch! That when he command
ed, the ocean moderated its chafing tide, and
the verv thunders articulated he is the Son of I
God. Envy assailed him with the charge of sor
cery, and the voice of impious judges condemn
ed him to death. Slowly and thickly guarded
he ascended the hill of Calvary. A heavy crost
bent him to the earth. But Faith leaned upon
bis arm, aud Hope dipping her pinions In his I
blood, mounted to the skies.
AxtcntrTt or Washmctos. One Retiben
ftray, of VJrMn's, owl r.i CouC.ii :ne tiiou
sand pounds. While President of the Cuited
States, one of his agents brought an action for
the money ; judgment was obLiined, and execu
tion Issued against tire bedy of the defendant,
who was taken to jail. He bad considerable
landed estate, but this kind of property cannot
be sold in Virginia, unless at tu discretion of
the owner. He had a large family, and for the
sake of his children, preferred lying in j.iil to
selling his land. A friend hinted to him, that)
probably Gen. Washington did not know any
thing about the proceedings, and that it might
be well to scud him a petition, with a statement
of the circumstances. He did so and the very
next post from Philadelphia, after the arrival of
his petition in that city, brought him an order
for his immediate release, together with a full
discharge, and a severo reprimand to the scent.
fnr having acted in such a manner. Vnnr Ron.
, .. - ., .
aej was curerqucmiv rrsioreu to nis laraiiv, wno ;
never laid down their heads at night, without
first presenting prayers to Heaven for their "be
loved Washington." Providence smiled upon
the labors of the grateful family in a few years j
Rouzey enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of being :
able to lay the money, with Interest, at the feet t
of the truly great man. Washington reminded
him that the debt was discharged. Jtouxry re
plied that the debt of his family to the Father
of their Country could never be discharged; and
the General, to avoid the pleasing importunity
of the grateful Virginian, who could sot be de-
nied. accepted the money, only, however, to di
vide it among Rouzey's children, which he im
mediately did. Old CWoay Memorial.
LoArrju rr Parrrwo Omcrs. The compos-
ing room of a printing office is not the place to
tell long stories, or argue abstruse points in met
aphysics. Read, ye loungers, and be advised:
"A printing office is like a school; it can have
no interlopers, hangers-on, or twaddlers, without
a serious Inconvenience, to say nothing of loss
of time, which is just as much as gold to the
printer, as though it metallically gli.-rtened in his
hand. What would be thought of a man who
would enter a school, and twaddle, first with the
teacher, and then with the scholars interrupt
ing the studies of one, and the discipline of the
other? And yet this is the precise effect of the
loafer in the printing office. He seriously Inter
feres with the course of business, distracts the
fixed attention which is necessary to the good
printer. No gentleman will ever enter it, and
presume to act loafer. He will fee! above it
for no real man ever sacrifices interests or inter
feres with the duties of others. The loafer does
both. ' Let him think, if he ever has, that the
last place he should erer instsuate his worthless
and unwelcome presence, ia ia the printing of
fice." Goon Adtkx to Arraai t icxs When serv
ing yur apprenticeship, you will have time and !
opportunity to stock yonr mind with ureful in
formation. The only way for a young maa to
prepare himself for usefulness, is to devote him
self to study during h:s leisure boars Fint, be ;
industrious in vour business be frugal, be eco-1
nomieal never complain that you have to work; It was a ju-f cima rcJtiou of a father, who,
go to it with alacrity aad cheerfulness and it j n being asked what h intended to do with
will become a habit "which will moke you rcvpec- j n: prls, replied, -1 intend w apprentice them
ted and beloved by your mtter of employer; ' lu' 'r excellent mother, that they may learn
make it your biuiness" to sec to aud prom )-. hi ': ,n rt r improving tiuv. and be fitted to be-inte-rest;
by taking care of his, you will leam to i eome v,it nrT mothers, and beads of
take care of yur own. Young men at the pre-! dailies, and useful mcaihers of wxriety."
sent day arc too fond of getting rid of work, j KH .p witll ratacr abov Uon,
They seek fcr easy and lazy employments, and j ;ow jouisclf; far gold in the same pocket witb
frequently turn out poor, miserable vagabonds. tver t'og,, 114 color aud weight
You must avoid all wishes to five without labor; ; -
Ubor; labor is a blessing instead of a curse; it ;
makes your food, clothing, and every other tiling ;
necessary, and frees yor from temptation to be
dih"itnt. .
Four Great Mea.
It is a remarkable fact, that four of the
renowned men that ever lived, closed with some
violent or mournful death.
AtXAtsca. after having climbed the dizxy
flicighn of his ambition, and with his temples
''"S1 united his name with that of God, and
i ca",?1 ' Hannibal died at last by poison,
Jadrainiatercd by his own hands, unlamcnted and
: waF' i"jr" ia foreign land.
C.S3AK, afUr haviug conquered eight hundred
cities, and dyed his hands in the blood of one
ni l'ion of his foes ; after having pursued to death
t lie only rival he had on earth, was miserably
ai-jinated by those he considered his nearest
friends, and in that very place, the attainment
of which had been his greatest ambition.
BoxArAKrr., whose mandate Kings and Empe
rors obeyed, after having filled the earth with
die terror of his name, deluged it with tears and
blood, and clothed the world with sack-cloth,
ended his diys in lonely banbhmeat, almost lit
erully exiled from the world, but where he could
sometimes see his country's flag waving over
the deep, but which could not or would not bring
him aid.
Thus four men, who, from the peculiar situa
tion of their portraits, seemed to stand as the
representatives of all those whom the world calls
great Those four whom, each in their turn,
made the earth tremble to its very centre by
their simple tread, severally diedon by In
toxication, or sofue suppose by poison mingled
in his wine, one by suicide, one murdered by his
friends, and one in lonely exile.
Ax Ixo'a LEcrto. Out of a pine ia the Iro
quois settlement, and about Are feet from the
ground, U growing up with the tree a rant's
bad, with the horns still attached to it; and ao
fixe j and imbedded ia it in the tree, that it must
rvi grrtrn cr "rttb it, Alaoet whole of '
one of the horns, and more than one-half of the
head is buricai in the tree, bat most of the other
horn and pari of the head protrudes out at least
a foot We examined both, and found th tree
scarcely two feet in diameter. Here we put up
at an early hour, and called the place Ram's
Hum Encarepment Our Flat-head Indians re
lated to us a rather strange story about this
ram's head. Indian legend relates that one of
the first Flat-head Indiana who passed this way,
attacked a mountuin ram as large and stout as
a common horse; that, on being wounded, the
fii ree animal tamed round upon his pursuer, who
taking shelter behind the tree, the ram cam
against it with all his force, so that be drove hi
horn through it; but before he could get it ex
tricated again, the Indian killed him sad took
off the body, leavin; the head as a memento of
the adventure. AU Indians reference the cele-
jbrated tree, which, theyeay.bv the circumstanc
"
related, conferred on them the power of master
ing and killing all animals; hundreds, therefore,
in passing this war, sacrifice something to the
ram's head; and one of the Iroquois, not to in
cur the displeasure of the God of hunters, hung
a bit of tobacco on the horn, to make his hunt
ing propiiioiuv Tie Fur Huntrrt At Fsr
first, fry Alexander Fan.
The Csxatcu Called a Box. " A very ua
certain, mysterious, inapplicable creature is a
boy who caa define him?"
I will try. A boy is the spirit of mischief em
bodied perfect teetorem spinning head. He
invariably goes through the process of leaping
over every chair in his reach; make drum
heads of the doors; turns the tin paas into cym
bals; take the best knives out to dig worms for
bait, and loses them; hunts up the molasses
cask, and the sugar barrel; searches for aQ the
pies and preserve left from supper, and eats
them; goes to the apples every ten minutes;
bides his old eapj in order to wear hi new one;
cuts his old boots, If he wants a new pair; tears
hia e'othes for fun, and for ditto tracks the car
pet, marks th furniture, pinches the baby, wor
ries the nurse, ties' fire crackers to th kitten' -tail,
drops his books in the gutter while be fish
es with a pia, pockets bis schoolmaster' specs,
and finally turns a sober household apside down,
if be cuts his little finger.
Life has an ultimate purpose. We are not
appointed to pass throngh this life, barely that'
we may lire. We are cot impelled, both by dis
position and necessity, to buy and sell, barely
that we may do it; nor to get gain, barely that
we may gt it Ther is an end in business be
yond supply. . There i aa object in the acquisi
tion of wealth beyond success- There is a final
cause of human trade; and that is virtue.
Gustavus Adolphus knew bow to put down
duelling. Two officers arked leave to fight a
duel. Leave was granted, and the King becass
a spectator. With him came the Provost Mar
hal. "Now, gentlemen," said Gustavus to the
combatants, " fight till on of you is ki'Uod; the
Provost Marxlial will hang the swivivor."
The officers shook hands.
u nr are urcams ne ti le ex ra wain men ui-
road ? IVe-anae they corae- upon deeper.
' Manhood is disgraced by the eonseqwencv ef .
' n'-glected youth.