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V^ I JAWK 0. SWI88HSLV, ST. CLOUDDEMOCRAT OFFICEON THE WESTER BANK THE MiuumNarOF §0 MILES ABOVE THE FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY, OPPOSITE THE STEAMBOAT LANDING 0000 TERMS: One copy, one year, $ 1.50 Five copies, one year, t,25 Ten 10,00 Twenty copies, one year, (and one eopy extra to the getter up of the club, 20,00 Payment mast invaaiably bemade in advance RATES OF ADVERTISING One eolnmn, one year, $60,00 Half column, 35,00 One-fourth of a column 20,00 One square, (ten lines or leas) one week, 1,00 Business Cards not over six lines, 5,00 Over six lines and under ten, 7,00 Legal Advertising: Sixty cents a folio first Insertion, 40 cents all subsequent insertions. All letters of business to be directed to the EDITOR. S E E N MILLER ATTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, ST. OLOTJD, Lower Town. Will make collections, invest money, buy, sell or loan land Warrants, and enter purchase or dispose of ileal Estate. A E S E ATTORNEl & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, ST. CLOTJID, Lower Town. Will make collections, invest money, buy, sell orloan Land Warrants, and enter, purchase or dispose of Real Estate. W A I & E Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Exchange, KEEP Land Warrants constantly on hand and for sale at a small advance from New York prices. Collections made, Exchange drawn atthelowestcurrentrates,Taxespaid,&c. St. Cloud, July 28th, 1860. aug2-3m MOORE & SHEPLEY, ATTORNEYS & COUNSELLORS AT LAW ST. CLOUD, Min. GEO. A N O S E (Late ot St. Anthony,) ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Ones ix Medusa's (PHOSSIX) BLOCK, NFAR THE SRIDOS. ST. PAUL, Min. T. A E Civil Engineer and Surveyor. t&* Office on First Street, Lower St. Cloud Maps of all surveyed lands, and plats of al he leading towns of Northern Minnesota, can had at all times at my office. WM. J. PARSONS, COUNSELLOR AT LAW, OFFICE WASHINGTON AVENUE, Corner of Lake Street—Gorton's Building 8T. CLOUD Min W S I O N O N KESPECTFULLe tenders his Professional Services to th Citizens of St. Cloud and its Vicinity. Residence, L»wer Town, second house south west of Ravine, formerly occupied by Mr. Xilbuorne. MT» Particular attention given to Operative Surgery. vol-lOny J. W METZROTH, MERCHANT TAILOR, DEALER in Clothing, Cloths, Cassimeres Testings, and Gentlemen's Furnishing goods, eo the inspection of which he invites his friends and the public decl0 1857-ly rv F.& A N E W S JL Wholesale and Retail Dealers in Dry Goods, Groceries, and Crockery. Maim Street, Lower Town, St. Anthony, Minnesota. v2n80:ly IflT Produce taken in Exchange for Goods. ST. ANTHONY BOOK STORE WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN BOOKS, STATIONARV, WALL PAPER, FISHING TACKLE, POCKET CUTLERY, FANCY ARTICLES, TOYS, Ac. Three doors above the Tremont Hotel. St. Anthony, Jfln. Jane, 10,1858, vQlInol8,l STEPHEN MILLSJL |, HENHT SWISSHELM THE A ESTATE AGENCY ST. CLOUD, MINNESOTA. undersigned offer their services to loan money upon best real estate security and to purchase and sell property either real or personal, for a reasonable commission. They have now for sale, at low prices: 20 quarter sections of good land. 60 lots, (some improved,} in 8t. Cloud. in Nininger addition to St. Paul. ,, in Nininger city, A In Mound city, niinOls. 9 ., MILLER & SWIS&HELM ft. wtouA May 18,1858. O E E I N E S Without, the shadows of the night Havefilledthe world with sullen gloom: Within, a mellow, golden light Wraps in repose the quiet room. I hear the patter of the rain— The mournful sobbing of the blast Wailing as if a ghastly train Of disembodied spirits passed. But what care I for cloud or storm, Since neither cloud nor storm are mine In youth the heart is fresh and warm, In youth the blood is rosy wine! I pass beneath the cheerless skies, Nor think how full of tears they are: There is alight in friendly eyes More lovely than the fairest star! Then who would wish a brighter spot Wherein to sing, whereon to dwell Ah he who would, deserves it not, He who would not. deserves it well. So, 1 content with friendship live, And blest with love's endearing ways, Quaff the sweet nectar which shall give A solar crown to all my days. TWO NEPHEWS. At the parlor window of a pretty villa, near Walton-on-Thames, sat one evening at dusk, an old man and a young woman. The a«ie of the man might be some seven ty whilst his companion had hardly reach ed nineteen. Her beautiful blooming face, and active, light, and upright figure were in strong contrast with the worn counte nance and bent frame of the old man but in his eye, and in the corners of his mouth, were indications of a gay self-confidence which age and suffering had damped, but not extinguished. "No use looking any more, Mary," said he "neither John Meade nor Peter Finch will be here before dark. Very hard that, when a sick uncle asks his two nephews to come and see him, they can't come at once. The duty is simple in the extreme—only to help me to die, and take what I choose to leave them in my will! Pooh! when I was a young man, I'd have done it for my uncle with the utmost celerity. But theCollett. world is getting quiirheaTtles^T'"" —5W? "Oh, sir," said Mary. "And what does (Oh, he. "D'ye think I shan't die I know better. A little more and there'll be an end to old Billy Collett. He'll have left this dirty world' for a cleaner—to the great sorrow (and advantage) of his affectionate relatives! Ugh! Give me a glass of the doctor's stuff!" The girl poured some medicine into a glass and Collett, after having contempla ted it for a moment with infinite disgust, managed to get it down. "I tell you what, Miss Mary Sutton," said he, "I don't by any means approve of your 'Oh, sir!' and 'dear sir!' and the rest of it, when I've told you how I hated to be called 'sir,' at all. Why, you couldn't be more respectful if you were a charity girl, and I a beadle in a gold-laced hat.— None of your nonsense, Mary Sutton, if you please. I've been your lawful guardi an uow for more than six montus, and you ought to know my likings and dislikings." "My poor father often told me how you disliked ceremony," said Mary. "Your poor father told you quite right," said Mr. Collet. "Fred Sutton was a man of talent—a capital fellow. His only fault was a natural inability to keep a farthing in his pocket. Poor Fred! he loved me— I'm sure he did. He bequeathed me his only child—and it isn't every friend would do that." "A kind and generous protector you. have been "Well, I don't know I have tried not to be a brute, but I dare say I have been Don't I speak roughly to you sometimes Haven't I given you good, prudent, world ly advice about John Meade, and made myself quite disagreeable, and like a guar dian Come, confess you love this pen niless nephew of mine. "Penniless indeed!" "Ah, there it is I" said Mr. Collett.— "And what business has a poor devil of an artist to fall in love with my ward And what business has my ward to fall in love with a poor devil of an artist But that's Fred Sutton's daughter all over! Hav en't two nephews Why couldn't you fall in love with the discreet one—the thriving one Peter Finch—considering he's an attorney-is a worthy young man. He is industrious in the extreme, and at-footpath!" tends people's business, only when he's paid for it. He despises sentiment, and always looks to the main chance. But John Meade, my deaf Mary, may spoil canvass forever, and not grow rich. He's all for art, and truth, and social reform, and spiritual elevation, and the Lord knows what. Peter Finch will ride in Lis carriage, and splash poor John Meade as he trudges on foot." The hamngue was hore interrupted by a ring at the gate, and Mr. Peter Finch was announced. He had scarcely, taken his seat when another pull at the bell was heard and Mr. John Meade was announ ced, »ifl ba tsrfi ma Mr. Collett eyed his two nephews with a queer sort of a smile, whilst they made speeches expressive of sorrow at the na ture of their visit. At last/ stopping !tneiti—: :?tJS shillings sir!' mean said i'—y, »vfi sno, "Enough, boy*, nnough4fc said k*— "Spaa* unto th* cfeUarta of Iiraal that they i*forward."—EXODOS,CIIA*. ¥QL. a ST. CLQUD, STEAMS CO, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22 I860. "Let us find some better subject than the state of an old man's health. I want to know a little more about you both. I haven't seen much of you up to the pres ent time, and for anything I know you may be rogues or fools." John Meade seemed rather to wince under this address but Peter Finch sat calm and confident. "To put a case now," said Mr. Collett "this morning a poor wretch of a garden er came begging here. He could get no work, and said he was starving. Well, 1 knew something about the fellow, and I believe he only told the truth so I gave him a shilling to get rid of him. Alow, I'm afraid I did wrong. What reason had had I for giving him a shilling? What claim had he on me What claim had he on anybody? The value of his labor in the market is all that a workman has a right to and when his labor is of no val ue, why then he mustjgo to the 1, or wherever else he can. Eh,Peter? That's my philosophy what do you think "I quite agree with you, sir," said Mr. Finch, "perfectlv agree with you. The value of their labor in the market is all that laborers can pretend to—all that they should have. Nothing acts more perni ciously than the absurd extraneous support called charity." "Hear, hear!" said Mr. Collett, "you're a very clever fellow, Peter. Go on, myWhat dear boy, go on." "Wl.at results from charitableaid," con tinued Peter, "The value of labor is kept at an unnatural level. State charity is State robbery private charity is public wrong." "That's it, Peter," said Mr. C. llett "What do you think of our philosophy, John?" "I don't like it—I don't believe it," said John." You were quite right to give the man a shilling. I'd have given him a shilling myself" "Oh, you would, would you said Mr. "Yes," said "John, as the Vandals flew in the face of Rome, and destroyed what had become a falsehood and a nuisance." "Poor John "said Mr. Collett. "We shall never make anything of him, Peter. Really, we had better talk of something else. John, tell us all about the last new novel." They conversed on various topics, until the arrival of the invalid's early bed-time parted uncle and nephews for the night. Mary Sutton seized an opportunity, the next morning after breakfast, to speak to John Meade alone. "Jehn," said she, "do think more of your own interest—of our interest. What occasion for you to be so violent last night, and to contradict Mr. Collett so shocking ly I saw Peter Finch laughiug to him self. John, you must be more careful, or we shall never be married." "Well, Mary, dear, I'll do my best." said John. "It was that.confounded Peter, with his chain of iron maxims, that made me fly out. I'm not an iceberg, Mary." Thank Heaven, you're uot!" said Mary "but an iceberg floats—think of that, John. Remember, every time you offend Mr. Collett, you please Mr. Finch." "So I do!" said John. "Yes, I'll re member." "If you would only try to be a little mean and hard-hearted," said Mary "just a little to. begin with. You would only stoop to conquer, John, and you deserve to conquer." "May I gain my deserts then!" said John. "Are you not to be my loving wife, Mary And are you not to sit at needle word in my studio, whilst I paint my great historical picture How can this come to pass if Mr. Collett will do nothing for us?" "Ah, how indeed?" said Mary. «0*ut here's our friend Peter Finch coming through the gate from bis walk. I leave you together." 'And so saying the with drew.' "What, Meade?" said Peter Finch, as he entered, "skulking in-doors on a fine morning like this I Fve been all through the' village. Not an ugly place—but wants looking after sadly. Roads shamefully muddy! Pigs Allowed to walk on the "Dreadrnl!" exclaimed John. "I say, you came out pretty strong last night," said Peter. "Quite defied the old man I But I like ysur spirit." "I have no doubt you do," thought John.' "Oh, when I was a youth, I was a little that way myself," said Peter. "But the world—the world, my dear sir—soou cures us of all romantic notions. I regret, of course, to see poor, people miserable but what's the use of regretting? '. It's no part of the business of the superior classes to interfere with the law* of supily and de mand' poor people uiu8t be miserable.— What can't be cured must be endured-" "That-is to say," returned John, «*what we can't cure, they must endure." "Exactly so," said Peter. he Mr. Collet this day was too ill to leave hisbeiL Aboutnopn h^rt^uestedjosee his nephews in his bed room, Tfa*W You're very generous with your you observed with great justice, sir. Let Would you fly in the face of her abide the consequences, as you very all orthodox political economy, you Van-properly XIV V] =SS him propped up by pillows, looking very weak, but in good spirits as usual. "Well, boys," said he, "here I am, you see, brought to anchor at last! The doc tor will be here: soon, I suppose, to shake his head and write recipes. Humbug, my boys! Patients can do as much for them selves, I believe, as the doctor can do forhe them—they're all in the dark together— the only difference is, that the patients grope in English, and the doctors grope in in Latin." "You are too skeptical, sir," said John Meade. "Pooh!" said Mr. Collett "let us change the subject. I want your advice, Peter and John, on a matter that concerns your interests. I'm going to make my will to day, and I don't know how to act about your coucin, Emma Briggs. Emma disgraced us by marrying an oil man." "An oil man exclaimed John. "A vulgcr, shocking oilman I" said Mr. Collett, "a wretch who not only sold oil, but soap, candles, turpentine, black lead and birch brooms. It was a dreadful blow to the family. Her grandmother never got over it, and a maiden aunt turned Methodist in despair. Well, Briggs, the oilman, died last week, it seems and his widow has written to me, asking for assistance. Now, I have thought of leav ing her a hundred a year in my will do you th'nk of it I'm afraid she don't deserve it. What right had she to marry against the advice of her friends What have I to do with her misfortunes?" "My mind is quite made up," said Pe ter Finch "no notice ought to be taken of her. She made an obstinate and unworthy match—and let her abide the consequen ces." "Now, for your opinion, John," said Mr. Collett. "Upon my word, I think I must say the same," said John Meade, bracing him self up boldly for the part of up boldly to the part of a Wordly man. "What right had she to marry ?—as remarked, Finch. Can't she car- ry'on the oil man's business I dare say it will support her very well." "Why, no," said Mr. Collett "Briggs* died a bankrupt and his widow and chil dren are destitute." "That does not alter the question," said Peter Finch. "Let Briggs- family do something for her." "To be sure!" said Mr. Collett "Briggs' family are the people to do something for her. She mustn't expect anything from us—must she John "Destitute, is she?" said John. "With children, too! Why this is another case, sir. You surely ought to notice her—to assist her. Confound it, I'm for letting her have the hundred a year." "Oh, John, John! What a break down! —said Mr. Collett. "So you were trying to follow Peter Finch through Stony Arabia, and turned back at the second step! Here's a brave traveler for youNearly Peter! John, John, keep to your Arabia Fe.ix, and leave stcrnei ways to very dif ferent men. Good bye, both of you. I've no voice to talk any more. I'll think over all you have said." He pressed their hands, and they left the room. The old man was too weak to speak the next day, and in three days af ter that he calmly breathed his last As soon as the funeral was over, the will was read by the confidential man of busi ness, who always attended to Mr. Collett's affairs, The group that sat around him, preserved a decorous appearance of disin terestedness and the usual preamble to the will having been listened to with breathless attention, the man of business read the following in a clear voice: "I bequeath to my niece, Emma Briggs, notwithstanding that she shocked her fam ily by marrying an oilman, the sum ot four thousand pounds being fully per suaded that her lost dignity, if she could even find it again, would do nothing to provide her with food or clothing or shelter," John Meade smiled, and Peter Finch ground his teeth—but in a quiet respecta ble manuer. The man of business went on with his reading: "Having always held the opinion that woman should be rendered a rational and independent being—and having duly con sidered the fact that society practically de nies her the right to earn her own living —I hereby bequeath to Mary Sutton, the only child of my old friend, Frederick Sutton, the sum of ten thousand pounds, whioh will enable her to marry or to re-facts main single, as she may prefer John Meade gave a prodigious start upon hearing this, and Peter Finch ground his teeth again—but in a manner hardly respectable. Both, however, by a violent effort kept silent. The man of business went on with his reading: "I have paid some attention to the char acter of my nephew, John Meade, and have been grieved to find htm muon pos sessed with a feeling of philanthropy, and *»&%»»$«»! ^rofercni» lor ]?%f»jk noble and true, over what is base and false. 16. as can advance him in the world, I be queath him the sum of ten thousand pounds—hoping that he will thus be kept out of the workhouse, and be enabled to paint his great historical picture—which as yet ho has only talked about. "As lor my other nephew, Peter Finch, views ill things in so sagacious and selfish a way, and is so certain to get on in life, that I should onlv insult him by offer ing an aid which he does not require yet from his affectionate uncle, and entirely as a testimonial of admiration for his mental acuteness, I venture to hope that he will accept a bequest of five -hundred pounds toward the completion of his extensive li brary of law books." How Peter Finch stormed and called names—how John Meade broke into a de lirium of joy—how Mary Sutton cried first, and then laughed, and then laughed and cried together all these matters I shall not attempt to describe. Mary Sut ton is now Mrs. John Meade and herfired husband has actually begun the historical picture. Peter Finch has taken to dis counting bills and bringing action on them and drives about in his brougham already. Startling N from Kansas. Southern The Settler* on the Cherokee Indian Land* Driven Away by U. S. Troops —Seventy-Jiv houtee Burned—One Hundred Families Turned Out on the Prairie* From the Leavenworth Times. MAPLETON, October 25,1860. There is at present a revival of the ex-him citement of other days in Southern Kansas. The scene is removed a little further south than on former occasions, but there is the same "irrepressible" incentive underlying it ail. During the last few days there has been an exhibition of one of the most bar barous spectacles, on What is termed the Cherokee neutral lands, ever known in any civilized community. For the last six years, that district which embraces an area some twenty-five miles by forty, has been filling up with honest and industrious pio neers, who have settled there for perma nent homes, and in as good faith as anymediate citizens of Kansas. They have made all the ordinary improvements, and are sur rounded by crops and herds, like the oldformed residents in other countries. A few mornings since, they were sur prised by the report that the S. troops were on the way from the South, to drive them from their premises. In a few hours, the report was confirmed by the appearance of the Indian agent, whom they call Col. Cowan, accompanied by a company of cav alry, sixty in number, commanded by Cap. Sturgess. They commenced immediately applying the torches to the dwellings of the settlers, traveling northward, with their work of devastation and ruin.— all the settlers on what is called the "Lightning Creek Settlement," were thus visited by them. They c-ime on to Cow Creek, a branch of the Dry Wood, and there showed the same relentless spirit.— The news of theii destructive raid traveled before them, and the settlers on the Dry Wood rallied to the number of three or four hundred, who sent a committee of conference to visit the "Col" The com mittee contended that whatever might be his right to disturb the settlers further south, that they, on the Dry Wood, were on what is called the "eight milo strip," and that they were on no part of what is called the Cherokee tract, but on lands not subject to preemption. At least, they contended that question was in a measure unsettled, that they should be favored, and allowed to remain until a new survey could be made, and the wlnle matter legally ad justed. frain, To hasten our particulars, something that they call a "treaty" wasfinallyagreed to, and a written pledge was signed on theas part of the citizens that they would aban don that district previous to the 25th of November next, provided the agent would spare their dwellings at this time, and leave the country. Accordingly the in-immediately cendiary withdrew, but threatened them in this wise as ho w.-s leaving: that if every man of them did not leave before the day specified, he would burn not only their houses next time, but all their feed, and everything he could find valvu le. When this news came to sur citizens in this portion of the country, they immedi ately sent down delegations to learn the and report. Some of these gentle men have returned, and report a most dis tressing scene. Seventy-four houses have been burned, and at least one hundred families turned out upon the bare prairies all by that subtle influence of ours called the power ot the Federal Government. I have, during the last twenty-four hoars, conversed with ft. least twenty persons from that County, and0 all gave it as the saddest scene ever witnessed in Kansas.— Women and children are now sheltered in bushes along the creeks, mourning their hard late. They feel ulsconsolate-almJIkt Jt W I I 4 W die as Wave theeowrtry they htm HMO enatf' t* -«S6»xtci6tiiuc ia \-& islau lo ewrq -anqs&t mm -&i *m*.r*%* "—w __ _/_~': ^~r-?~- -.-. ••-£»Tr.yT-?^-:- ,- .983J 2 :'. .. .- I S 4 hi .8 rSCSN NO. 17. (OH laboring so hard to improve during the last-six years. In fact, the whole commu nity are quite discouraged, acd know not what to do. They almost feel deserted— as cast out from everybody. If they don't belong to Kansas, ortoanywhere else, and no arm appears to protect them, or show them any sympathy in this sad hour, what, they ask, is to be their fate A meeting was held last evening, at Marmaton, some four miles this side of the land referred to. It was largely attended, I both by delegations from the Dry Wood and other portions of this county. All I have here written was more than confirmed, by those who spoke. One gentleman sta ted that he-knew of a case where this Col. Cowan came is a house in which a lady was sick, having a child but two days old* All their pleading was in vain. He or dered his men to carry her'out on her bed, and lay her upon the prairie. His orders were obeyed, when he ordered the house in which she was lying, thus outraged and unprotected, in full view. What sav age heart was ever more destitute of hu manity But, this letter will contain but the be ginning of the chapter, and I most close by saying—the future is ominous. There is a plot underlying all this, well known in this community. A mass meeting is called at Cato, on the Dry Wood, next Wednes day. The indignation is very general, and the excitement high I understand a committee is now oh the way to see Gov. Medary. Yesterday morning, just after Captain Sturgess' company had started South,* messenger arrived—"on his third horse"— from Fort Leavenworth, with orders for to start for that place immediately. FOWLER TELLS A TOUGH STORY/.— Prof. Fowler, the well-known phrenologist of New York, is now in England. Ac cording to a Manchester paper, the Pro-. feasor, while speaking of military men, du ring a recent lecture, drew attentiontoone portrait, which he said was that of a man who came to his office about fifteen years ago, with the question, "What can I do best The professor asked him what he did, and he replied, "I make soap for a living." He then examined his head,and told him that of all professions a military career was most suited to him, and that he ever had the opportunity he should get the command of an army in the cause of right, for there his talents would show themselves to the greatest advantage. He had done so, and Garibaldi, that man, was now telling a tele on the destiny of Europe. MT* Col. F. W. Lander, who was re cently married in California to Miss Dav enport, the talented actress, is well known the efficient overland mail contractor, and more recently as the friend and second of Potter in the Pryor and Potter duel, whioh did not come oft. It is understood that Mrs. Lander will retire from the stage upon the completion of her resent engagements on the Atlantic aide, seems that the attachment: between the Colonel and Miss. Davenport was a matter of long standing. From the state ment of those who seom to be well posted on the subject, it appears that the lady is "well to do" in die worldly sense. Her fortune is estimated at from 175,000 to $100,000. 'K ALBATBOS. VICTORIA'S FIRST MOMENT OF SOV- EREIGNTY.—William the Fourth, expired about midnight at Winsdor Castle. The Archbishop of Canterbury, with other high functionaries of the kingdom, was in at tendance. As soon as the king had breathed his last, the archbishop quitted Windsor, and made his way to Kensington Palace, the residence of the Princess Vie toria, where he arrived before daylight, and announced himself, requesting an im interview with the princess. She hastily attired herself, and met the vener able prelate in the ante-room. He in her of the demise of the crown, and did homage to her as the sovereign ot the nation. She was, at eighteen, queen of the only realm, in fact or history, on which the sun never sets. She was deep ly agitated. The first words she uttered were these: "I ask your prayers in my behalf." They knelt down together, and the young sovereign inaugurated her reign like a young king of Israel, by ask ing from on high "an understanding heart to judge so great a people, who could not be numbered, nor counted for the multi tude."—Leeds Mercury. The Duke of Newcastle hinted to a prominent gentleman of Boston, that another jear this country and Canada might receive a visit ftom a royal person age whose presence would be mgnaljznd he did not doubt, by even a mora glorious reception than had been extended to the Prince. When that personam comes the question will be: "Who shall daaee whb W» Quesnf" -. 2f.jT S^^^eestlis razor take hold THM* inquired a.ebmkny who was '*V*™$K*J wRn'iSin th Ms TS3.'.OO£ afpflps^ «_.