Boon's Lick times. [volume], November 21, 1840, Image 1

About Boon's Lick times. [volume] (Fayette, Mo.) 1840-1848

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Missouri; Columbia, MO

                
A i
Till: MOON'S LICK TLUES.
JAMES R. BENSON A. CLARK H. GREEN,
Publishers and Proprietors.
TERNS.
BOON'S LICK
M E S .
'ERROR CEASES TO BE DANGEROUS. WHEN REASON IS LEFT FREE TO COMBAT IT." Jefferson.
Vol. 1.
cies, or the gibberish bickerings of domestic
pariizans. vv are listening to ine uun,
but teeming luture, as the cnna on me oeacn
' flUHS PAPER is published weekly, at s3 in
JL advance, or $4 at the end or the year. No
paper will be discontinued but at ihe option of the
. Editors until all arrearages are paid and a failure
' to give notice of a wish to discontinue will be
considered a new engagement.
Kates or Advertising;.
' One dollar per square, oftwelvelines.or less, for I listens to the strange noise of his sea-shell.
' the first inseition, and fifty cents a square for each I iv. hear the voices and the tread of thick
, subsequent insertion. . , . .m:ni. nations we see the loom
For one square 12 months, twenty dollars. ; shadows of thousand doomed cities, of
. Karl.Ut. n, .Jnorli'.ln. U, 1. n I " , I 'll. I Wo
. -...... -y -"- y i w crowuea prairies, mm uuu 'ai.c;. "
the amount of fifty dollars and upwards, WIll been- , 'th th nj thjngg 0f the ever
titled to a deduction of one third, where a regular ,- j h. tnite nnd resotu-
agreement is entered into. gurgling present, and have taste i and reso u
,, , . , , .. . . t on on V for the task of reverentially
Whore the insertion of an advertisement is or- 1,011 . . ..., r ,i10 r,,
ded, without the number of inscrt.ons beingspe- preparing for the majestic advent ot tlie lu-
' cified, it will be inserted, (in the discretion of the I ture
proprietors) until forbid, and charged for accor
dingly. 1 All advertisements from strangers, as well as
all erders for job-work, must be accompanied with
the cash, or a reference to some responsible and
convenient acquaintance.
FAYETTE, MISSOURI, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 91, 1840.
JVo. 36.
YOUNG PAUGUS
The "old French War." was over. The ban-
ner of Eneland had long streamed above the tow.
ers of Quebec. The Indians had left the woods
and lakes of New Hampshire, lor uie oroauer
waters and deeper forests of Canada and the west,
Time had benummed the iron sinews of the ran.
gers untamable by any other enemy or they
were sleeping "each in his narrow can lorever.
Where the red man once roamed after the moose,
prowled upon the scout, or lighted the council fire
now stood the iniant viuaee ana me peuceiui
From the American Sentinel.
OUR COUNTRY.
. The growth and prosperity of this coun
try has been great and rapid without a par
. allel in the history of the world. Within a
; IITKIO Ilie-lllIICa Willi 111 IllClllUlj VI lain- rr,, - , Y V
- ny yet living, this nation has gained in pop- neighborhood. The waterfall, at whose foaming
ufation, wealth and enterprise to an extent foot the Indian once darted his rude spear mto the
never realised or dreamed bv anv nation salmon, or hooked the trout upon his carved bit
never realised oraieamea oj any nation ,n0w turned thewhee of the clumsy grist-
nl nnmpni nr moilpin times. And it has J ... . .. . ... .
risen, not by wars of conquest and crime;
not by the invasion of delenceless territo
ries; not by treading upon the necks of
' subdued tribes of men; but by the peace
. ful arts, by homely and toilsome indus
try; by daring and large minded enter
prise; by honorable competition in every
mill, whither the jogging farmer brought his "rye
and Indian," over moor and hill, through bu3h and
swamp, in salety. Ihe congregations, as they
gathered toeether "at meeting," no longer brought
their charged euns to their house of worship, or
feared that the prayers of their minister would be
interrupted by the war hoop of Lovewell's men
scarcely a survivor remained, of the few that lived
market of the world; by generous institu- through the desperate fight at Pigwacket, Cham.
tions. wisel v administered and cheerfully o- berlain was vet alive, lie was an old erey.neaa.
beyed; by liberal advances to men of all ed man. He toad long given over hunting, and
climes; and by the benignity of God's pro- peace had changed his war spear into an impie
itonr.n shinimT nnnn her from r.louriless ment of husbandry: of all his hunting and fight-
skies.that her nfichty youth has been nurtu- Ug gears nothing remained to him but the gun
j i . m.in... that shot old PauEU3 at Lovewell s pond, and the
The rapidity with which some of our cit- bullet pouch and yellow powder horn, covered
ies have reached their present size, wealth ov -with lnd.'B d
wears more the air of ro- "'0Jsa,"5 '...V " "u 13. " hi.
t -r-i 1. 1 ne imu nreat)7vcu wiiii on uiu man 0 voiw.
n Tu.n.l ed'nnH c0aS". which went the solitary smoke that
gus crept out upon a mill log that extended over
the rapid, and stretched himself up to his lull
height, as if to ascertain, without advancing, the
success of his shot. The eld man could spare
him no longer. He saw the well remembered
form of the old f ickwacket chiel, as the young
savage stood against the sky of the west, which
was still red with the taysol the sunken sun. tie
leveled the fatal gun it blazedyoung Paugus
leaped into the air six feet as the ball whistled
through his heart, and his lifeless body fell into
the rapid that foamed below him, while his venge
ful spirit tied, and mingled with that sterner one
which parted long belore at Lovewell s pond in
"the land where their fathers had gone."
Chamberlain returned slowly and gloomily to
his cottage. The next morning, a bullet hole
through the centre of the old garment he had hung
at the saw gate, admonished him, that the aim as
well as the vengeance ol old f augus, had descen
ded to his sons, and as he mused upon those he had
slain, and reflected that, although he was old, he
might have again to lilt his gun against the blood
of Paugus, or himself fall by their avenging hand
he wished bitterly that some other bullet than
his own had slain that renowned Indian, and that
they had never met to quench their battle thirst
and scour out their foul guns, upon the beach of
Lovewell s pond.
tics; so the fire was renewed, places re-ad
justed, and the equal chances of being ea
ten up encountered. Ihe next morning
thev resumed their journey, and two hours
walk brought them to an abandoned Indian
villiage, delightfully situated in a bottom,
containing about a quarter section of land,
which was the only place they saw fit for
a settlement. Having seen enough ot the
country, they concluded to return home by
rafting down the Kickaroo. They made a
good raft of four logs, on which they em
barked. The course of the river being very
surpentine, they made but little progress in
and if they made no impress on her heart,
they at least gratified her vanity.
Her husband's message was delivered to
her at a moment when her state of mind
was much the same as his she knew not
what to think of this unexpected visit.
She replied, however, that she should be
happy to see him. He entered he hoped
he was not troublesome toon a cnair
made remarks upon the weather and re
counted the news of the day. The con
versation, as far as is related, was quite
common, but his vivacity and Amelia s gen
ius inspired it with interest. ihe time
a direct line; and the river was so full of passed they knew not how thecountlook
snags that one man was kept constant at e(j at his watch was surprised to find it so
and splendor,
mance than of history,
named as an example,
fifty years ago, the whole amount of prop
ty in the now chartered limits of that city,
was assessed at the value ot 3SJ,uuu ios.,nna
'. was owned by 300 persons. The whole a
mount of tax levied was 450 dollars. Then
the place was infested by wolves, and re
wards were offered for their extermination.
The whole number of vessels belonging to
the port were three barks, three brigantines,
twenty six sloops, and forty-six open boats;
and the whole number of carmen employed
was but twenty. A century ago the pop
ulation was but 9,000. Now it is one ol the
first commercial cities in the world. The
harvest of the rivers is her revenue; and
she is a mart of nations. She has become
.the crowning city, whose merchants are
princes, whose traffickers are the honorable
of the earth.
Philadelphia, though of second-rate com
caught the eye of Capt. Lovewell and his men,
now was the centre of a considerable hamlet. A
wild stream run past it, and, a little way below it,
tumbled down a fall, on which stood one of the
rude saw mills of tht day. Old Chamberlain,
once the swift hunter and the strong and proud
warior, was now its humble owner, and more hum
ble tender. He had survived his wife and his chi -dren.
Few of his neighbors ventured to be fa
miliar with him, on account of the stern peculi
arity of his character, and he passed his days in
solitude, excepting such associations as men had
with him in his humble vocations.
In the year 1787, towards the close of one of
those lair days in autumn, which make up tne 'In
dian summer.' a number of the villagers of P
had gathered into their one story tav.
em, to talk over the affairs of the little public, as
was their wont when they were surprised and
started by the enterance of a young Indian among
them. An Indian at that time had sot to be a rar
ity in P . He was tall, over six feet,
mercial importance, ranks even higher. than and finety formec after the fashion of tho forest
her sister citv in literary and scientific char- He had a belt of wampum around his waist and
acter and riches. Some of our old people from it hune his tomahawk. A lon gun was in
vet livins?. can remember when grain fields his hand, and he stood in his moccasins with the
or.cunied what is now the centre of our grace and dignity of the son of a chief. He placed
citv. and when our entire population did his gun behind the door, and silently took his seat
J ' . r . l I L 1 1 r . - rp . . L - f ,
not more than equal mat oi many oi ine uy nunseu. a nine ueiure sunsei, wo
villages at present surrounding us. Yet left the Inn and returned to their homes. One
here are colleges, libraries, museums, collec- old hunter remained with the landlord and the
.-. r nn.irr,rio, wnrihv nf the young savage. The hunter eyed the Indian with
oldest cities of Europe. Nay, in balancing en. attention-his suspicions were "wakened at
... 1 .u. , the sight of this warrior armed, so remote from the
-ACCOUnis Willi lllc lliuiuci tuiiiiucuii v v I - . . ., , . t. f
" , . V. i-i j: .. : residence of the nearest tribe, and in a time of
una it our aeotor m uwuiu u.v .u He wM inled wilh Uie ,ndian char.
natural pnuosopi y, anu iu u m.mu.i, kctef . ,d and his icions were he- ht.
an. , na iu " 6", r1? I . eneU and continued, when he heard the young
rope and the world the immortal I ulton to chie ask the iandord ; a iow and affererU t0ne
reveal the properties and powers of steam, if one chamberlain dwelt in the village? The
are we not at this moment sending OUt nnloid nninted out to him the mill wharn the old
from the work-shops of our Nornses and man labored, and the village where he dwelt.
Baldwins locomotives and other appliances xiie Indian took his gun and went out.
to the Russias and to England? "Some of the blood of old Paugus" said the
Nor are New York and Philadelphia sin- hunter, "and I'll venture my life, come to avenge
cular instances of rapid increase. The the death of that old chief upon Chamberlain.
whole country has grown in an equal and I ll give the old man warning. He hastily step.
.rr..nnn!n rutin, and nntwithstandinff Pd out and followed a winding foot path that led
femnnrarv ombarrassment. still swells, not n ' tl,e aw mill, where the old man was still
....if T.i,.,j u,,. ...Uo.-ntJnl nms. at his toils. He reached the mill and told Cham
Willi l uiuaicu. uu. ouwovmmwm. (" , , . , . T, . , . J
perity; and the most sober calculations ol berlain tW young Paugus from Canada had
K , .,,! ,, i,:-:i ,i come with liu rifle and his tomahawk, to avenge
luture prospects startle us as chimerical and Um o Chambeilain
Awriterinone of the British Encyclo- Vli ?fie:ini?," ?a.n CVel-.l"i1
pedins calculates that if the natural resour- and he had better retmn the f()rest (han m0,est
ces ot the American continent were tully me in my old age. ond as he spoke he p0-inted t0
developend, it would aitora sustenance to the on as it i,un upon pronss of the
3600 millions ot inhabitants, a number live mooso horn, driven in the saw mill plate, and near
times as great as the entire mass of human it was suspended the bullet pouch and powder
beings existing at present on the globe, horn of Pigwacket. The hunter had given his
HAnd," continues the article, "whnt is still warning and retired. The sun was setting at the
more supnsing, there is every probability south of Moosehillock. Chamberlain took down
that this prodigious population will be in I his gun tried its flint charged it took the pouc
existence within three, or at most fourcen- and the horn, flung them upon his Bide, hung up
uries. The imagination is lost in contem- near the saw gate, the old garments he had worn
plating a state of things which will make so at work through the day, hoisted the gate of the
great and rapid a change in the condition of m,u A. e " "P"1'? aSomS. loked keenly
ThAtvorld. We almolt fancv it a dream, around him in every .direction, and retired toan
j .I. v....lt ; 1 ..:r,;u. eminence, a few rods distant, crowned with
u "J ."r."!1;:: clump of thick bushes, and crouched down to
quite us cc, i.u u ,v..K-,i BOvc.u i ne awai- the a oach f h;, mysteriou(l enemy. He
conuuet oi me, m inc. o.u. mry Pu.m.uS. hewt mysterious to Chamberlain.-
Mane hi nil 0niil i rw ni'A f a nr o n T O Dm'inrT IrTitTl I . . ....
iaiijr aii.v,,...,.. .w.... xheoldman remembered every trait of the In.
the reciprocal influence ol condensed and dian character, and calculated with great accura
greatly dillused intelligence, what then cy a8 t0 the ,ime arld manner of young Paugus'
will ue uie siuioui autici in viiieiiuii iwu advance. Just as it was growing dusky to disun
centuries hence, wnen a tnousanu or iwo guish a human form, except towards the west, th
thousand millions pf civilized men are Lid man descried hiin creeoine cautiously from
crowded into a space comparatively sol branch of bushes eight or ten rods above the mill
narrow, and speaking only two languages, by the side of the torrent, with his cocked rifle
us will doubtless be the case? History before and his hand upon the lock. The young
.hnuii that wealth. Dower, science, litera- savage heard the noise of the saw gate, and could
oil fnllour in the train ol numbers, discern it in rapid motion, and shrunk back in the
Uv, - . " --- - I .1 1 . Tl . ..... ... .
general intelligence and Ireedom. The micnei. ne came out again a lime aistani irom
same causes wn.cii xranswrreu u.b cupl.e - - ZY ..li.: .::
DiiiuuBii, luiuuuuibuicu mo lllill. Vliailiuuiiniu
le as the catamount eyes the
- .... - r .1 - i l . L ..
M-.l- nr V in lh m.l B ,UV "S USU QUI 01 1110 BlIlUUSHl 1.1V
in im to cSlc,u u,w, ...u, - third time, and in a new quarter, ond was stealth
of no long period carry inem irom i ..- ny advancingi wlon something seemed to catch
ter to the plains of the Mississippi and the h ey() in the form of hig father's slayer he stop.
Amazon." ped short brought his rifle to his eye, and with
Musing on these prospects, what wonder qUlc ai,n fired. The report rung sharp and low
if we sometimes deem of small account the Up0n the still air, as if the gun itself was muffled,
distant din of Eastern and European poli- 0r afraid to speak above its brealh. Young Pau-
Ve select the following admirable production,
on the subject of the Bunker Hill Monument,
from the Lady's Book; it was written by Miss
Hannah F. Goulb, one of New England's most
gifted daughters:
THE RISING MONUMENT.
Rise in thy solemn grandeur, calm and slow,
As well befits thy purpose and thy place,
Great speaker ! rise not suddenly, to show
The earth forever sacred at thy base.
Strong as the rocky frame-work of the Globe,
Proportioned fair, in altitude sublime.
With freedom's glory round thee as a robe,
Rise gently then defy the power of time.
To future ages, from thy lofty site,
Speak in thy mighty eloquence, and tell
That where thou art, on Bunker's hallowed height,
Uur W aeben and his valiant brethren tell.
Say, it was here the vital current flowed.
Purpling the turf, amid the mortal strife
For man's great birthright, from the breasts that
glowed
With love of country, more than love of life
Thou hast thy growth of blood, that gushing warm
From patriot bosoms, set their spirits Tree
All who behold, shall venerate thy form,
And bow before thy genius, Liberty.
Here fell the hero and his brave compeers
Who fought and died to break a people's chain,
Tby place is sacred to Columbia s tears,
Poured o'er the victims for a nation slain.
Yet, from her starry brow a glory streams,
Turning to gems those holy drops of grief.
As after evening showers, the morn's clear beams
bhow diamonds hung on grass, and flower, and
leal.
Upright and firm, as were thy patriot souls
That irom thy native spot arose to Una,
Stand thou and hold, long as our planet rolls.
This last, high place, by Freedom's martyrs
trod.
Let thy majestic shadow walk the ground,
Calm as the sun, and constant as his light;
And by the moon, amid the dews be found
The sentinel who guards it through the night,
And may the air around thea ever be
To heaven-born liberty as vital breath;
But, like the breeze that sweeps the Upas tree,
To Honda ge and Oppression certain deato ;
A beauteous prospect spreads for thy survey:
City an d dome, and spire look up to thee ;
The solem n forest and the mountain gray
Stand distant to salute thy majesty.
of civilization ond the weight of influence JoiUii
from the banks of the Euphrates and the 'Xt,
Tr.u . Wt.fn P.nronp. must n the course ... oun6 faugus
And ocean, in his numbers deep and strong,
While the bright shore beneath thy ken he laves,
Will sing to thee an everlasting song
Of freedom, with bis never conquered waves.
Rise then, and stand unshaken till the skies
Above thee are about to pas away ;
But when the dead around thee are to rise,
Melt in the burning splendors of the day !
For then will He, "whose right it is to reign"
Who hath on earth a kingdom pure to save,
Come with his angels, calling up the slain
To freedom, and annihilate the grew.
work with a pole in his hand, to guide the
raft clear of obstructions. Thev Found the
Kickapoo a beautiful stream, about thirty
feet wide, about fourteen leet deep in the
shallowest places, and flowing between two
ranges of mountains or bluffs from two to
three hundred feet high. At night they en
camyed again, making a grand supper on
two Digeens half a bird a piece. Next
morning
"All hands unmoor!" tho voyageurs loudly cry;
"Al hands unmoor!" the caverned rocks raply.
Having no food they tried the good ef
fects of the fiddle, which answered pret
ty well but not equal to coffee and beef
steak. Owing to the siren strains of the
violin, or some other cause, the man with
the pole allowed the rait to strike a snag,
when the whole concern foundered guns,
tea not, tin cups, music book, and two pair
of boots, which two of them had taken off,
sunk or floated on.
To scramble ashore, to make a fire, to
fish up the two guns was easily accomplish
ed; but to supply the loss of the boots was
not so easy to the two naked leet: so one
took his knapsack and made a pair of moc-
, .1 .L . L CL I l, ...I I.
casins, ana tne otner ins nauie-case, wuiuu
was merely a bit ot painted linen, lor tlie
same purpose, iiereaiter, lei no persons
go to explore a new country without a fid
dle, seeing the many useful purposes to
which it may be applied. Ihe hist move
ment now was to ascend the steep and rocky
bluff", strewn with sharp flints, which inflict
ed painful bruises on the unprotected leet of
two of ihe party. A walk of a few miles
brought them to a clearing, where thev
found a family, the lady of which extended
to them that sympathy, which the absolute'
ly fainting condition of some of them from
the want of food rendered necessary. Here
they found good comforts for the inner man,
which their kind hostess spread before them,
refusing all payment until it had been pres
singly ottered to her.
They then directed their march to a fer
ry across the Wisconsin, and from thence
took the road for Lancaster, lodging one
night at a nouse dv tne way. arriving at
Lancaster, they were hospitably entertain
ed,and furnished with such shoes and socks
as their crippled condition enabled them to
wear. Ihe next night brought them to
Platteville, having been absent eight days.
Here was a partv ol strong and hardy
young men, one at least who is a thorough
backwoodsman, going hardly more than a
days lourney beyond the frontier settle
ments, and yet by a trifling accident were
reduced to the situation ot shiprecked mar
iners. Their own account of their difficul
ties, of which this is a brief outline, has
caused a deal of mirth in Platteville, and
none seem to enioy the laugh more than
themselves. Northern Badger.
LIFE IN THE WEST.
On the 17th inst., three of our friends,
two of whom are residents of long standing
in this town, set out on a tourney, on toot,
to see the land of promise on the north of
the Wisconsin. With knapsacks on their
backs, two with guns, a third with an axe,
and one with a violin in addition to his e
qnipment, to enliven their encampment
they deemed themselves able and buoyant
enough to reach the lacihc ocean. At
I'rmriA rlu l;hirn thev were loined bv an
acquaintance. At that town they found
the sick to outnumber the well; and of the
U. S. troops stationed there, one hundred
were on the sick list. From thence they
struck for the Kickapoo country,which they
were told was the finest country in the
world; abounding in bears, deer, rattle
snakes, and every thing else that was charm
: mi u - i .l a j:
ing. iney wuiKea in a nortn-easi uirec-
tion, from dawn tilt dark, finding the ctun
try nothing but a succession of sharp ridges
and intervening hollows, nearly destitute
of limber. At night they camped out; but
instead of a delicious slice ol fat bear, or
the sweat meat of a doe or fawn, they were
tain to make a supper on a prairie chicken
a pheasant, and two pigeons neither bears
nor deer having been seen the absence of
the rattle snake was not regretted. Un ly
ing down to sleep one of the company ex
pressed his (ears ot a visit Irom the painters
but another thought such a visit would give
them an opportunity ot having their like
nesses taken on explanation, it was under
stood that panthers were more plentiful
than painters in such places. One of the
party waking in the nigSt, and finding lam
self Benumbed with cold, found that his
friend, (who must have had the idea of the
painter still in his head) had interposed him
sell between the said party and the hre
Now the idea of putting your friend between
you and the panthers is too much like pol
WHO COULD HAVE BELIEVED IT.
A GERMAN TALE.
There lived in Vienna a young man of
rank and tortune, who bore a strong resem
blance to many other young men ot that
and every city, for he was a dupe to all the
follies ot iashion and high lite, lie combi
ned a flexible heart with a handsome per
son ; it cost his mother a great deal to make
him what is called a puppy; but by indela
tigable diligence, she had at least effected
her purpose. All the ladies consequently
loved him, and he loved them all in return.
It has been said that once or twice his at
tachments have been of more than a month's
duration, but never did he repose any re
straint upon lumselt or the object ot his af
fection, by an irksome fidelity. He pos
sessed the nicest powers of perception,
whenever any word or look summoned him
to victory, but he always had the good man
ners to pay every attention to the clock
when it summoned the hour of parting.
With these qualifications, he was certain
of success with the ladies. He paid his
devoirs to all, and was at last tired of all.
In one of his moments of torpid satiety,
our hero had returned home before supper.
Happy is he who feels the time least op
pressive when at home he belongs to the
better kind of men. Our young count
threw himself upon the sofa, stretched his
limbs, yawned, and so lorth. suddenly it
occurred to him that he was married. No
wonder, that we should have forgotten it,
since he himself had just now recollected it.
"Appropos," said he, and rung the bell
a servant entered.
'(Jo to your mistress and ask It 1 may
have the pleasure of seeing hert" The
servant listened attentively, and not belie
ving the testimony of his own ears, the
count repeated his orders, which the servant
at length obeyed, shaking his head as he
went. The countess was the amiable
daughter of a country gentleman she was
a flower which, from the pressure of the
court atmosphere drooped, but did not quite
wither to avoid ennui, she had no resource
but to swim with the tide of high life. She
and hnr hnshand unmptimes met thev ne'
ver avoided, nor ever courted each other's
society. Before marriage they had seen lit
lie of each other, and after it they had no
tune lor such employment. Jhere were
people enough who spared the Count the
trouble ot admiring his wife s perfections,
late, and requested permission to sup with
his wife. "With all my heart," replied
Amelia "if you can be content with my
homely fare." Supper was brought they
eat, and were merry without being noisy.
The calm pleasure possessed to them the
charm of novelty; they were both pleasant
without wishing to appear so, as quite new
acquaintances; the hours Hew swiltly away
and the time lor retiring to rest ueiiig arri
ved, the cocat took leave of the countess,
highly pleased with his visit
The next day he wasinvitea to a concert,
and did not learn till it was too late, that
one of the virtuous being ill, the concert
was deferred. How was he to pass the te
dious evening? He inquired as he passed
alter his wile, and was tntormea sue was
somewhat indisposed.
"Well," thought he, "common civility re-
. . , I, . - t
cmires that a snouiu wait upon ur,
. II - I L 1 IT
and ask her personally now sne aoes. aic
sent a message, requesting that he might be
allowed to set with her till supper, and
was politely received. He was cheerlul,
lively and gallant. The supper hour am
ed, and this time Amelia begged him to stay.
He had been invited to a cassino party ni
ter the concert, notwithstanding which he
remained with his wife, and their conversa
tion was quite as pleasant, and less reserv
ed than thai of the preceding visit.
"Do you know," said Amelia, "that the
party to which you were invited would find
a little trouble in discovering the cause ol
your absence? He smiled, and paused for
a moment. "I must tell you something in
confidence," began he at length, while he
was playing with his fork, "something which
you think rather candid than gallant; you
cannot imagine how much you have impro
ved since your marriage." "My marriage,"
answered Amelia in a jocose tone, "1 be
lieve took place about the same time as
your own." "Very true, my lady," repli
ed he, "but it is inconceivable how so hap
py an alteration can have taken place in
you. At that time pardon me you had
so much rustic bashfulness, it is scarcely
possible to recognize you, your genius is no
longer the same; even your features are
very much improved."
"Well, my lord," replied the countess,
"without wishing to return the compliment,
all that you have said to me, I thought of
you. But upon my word," added she, "it
is well that no one hears us; for it seems as
if we were making love." The dialogue
continued long in the same style, till Amelia
looked at her watch, and in a fascinating
tone, remarked that it was getting late.
The Count arose unwilliugly, slowly took
his leave, and as slowly retired to the door
suddenly he again turned round.
"My lady," said he, "I find it very tedi
ous to breakfast alone may I be allowed
to take my chocolate with you!" "If you
please," answered Amelia, and they parted,
still more pleased with each other.
The next morning it occurred to the
Count that these fiequent visits to his wife
rniffht cive rise to scandalous reports. He
therefore desired his valet not to mention
it to any one. He then put on an elegant
quest, eloped with Amelia into the country,
when they, with astonishment, discovered
that the theatre of nature, and the concert
of nightingales, surpassed all other theatres
and concerts. They at first thought of
staying a few days; every morning they ia-
tenaea to depart, and every evening they
again changed their intentions. When au
tumn, however, approached, they returned
to Vienna. The same evening thev went
to the play, and our hero had the courage
to sit in the same box with Amelia.
Who could have believed it? To such a
dreadful extent may a man be led by one
thoughtless step. Ye happy husbands in
high life, take warning by the mournlul ex
ample of our Count!
From the Bombay Times.
EXPULSION OF A DEVIL FROM A WID
OW'S LEG.
A trial took place lately in the Supreme Court,
so singular in its details, and presenting such a
characteristic illustration of the lights and shad,
ows of Indian life of simplicity and superstitious
credulity on the one part, of craft and deliberate
knavery on the other thai it deserves to be placed
on record.
The following1 are the facts proved in the evi
dence: A poor widow named Tukkee, who earned her
livelihood by selling greens in the market, was
living in a small hut with her daughter-in-law.
Having been attaked with some complaint in the
knee, she applied for medicine to a market garde,
ner, named Dhondeeba, who appears to have some
knowledge of "simplei more senses than one.
Dhondeeba, afier applying some remedies with
out any effect, at last told her that she was be
witched by the art and magic of some malicious
person, and that her only hope ol remedy was in
resorting to tne counter charms oi some omer sor
cerer, adding that a friend of his who was very
skilful in these matters, would do her business
effectually. He accordingly introduced her to one
Daood, the keeper of a betel leaf shop, who prom
ised to udertake her cure.
Daood and his partner one Dhoolajee, repaired
next day to the widow's house, and held a long
consultation on her case. After a full examination
of her leg, they withdrew to a little distance and
sitting down upon the ground held a long dia-
losrue, of which the patient was allowed to hear
the following significant portion:
rirst coniuror: 1 ins is not a natnral ailment;
some enemy has done it.
Second conjuior: Olear she is enchanted.
First conjuror: She has got a devil in her leg.
Second conjuror She is very full of devils.
First conjuror: The devil Mahar has got into
her.
Second conjuror: He Is a bad devil, that.
Having come to this satisfactory conclusion,
and communicated it to the bewitched widow,
they sent her daughter-in-law for some limes, flow
ers and leaves, a little incense, and some molas
ses; on getting which they went thro' some cere
monies and applied a charm to the suffering limb;
then mixing up a food-offering to the gods of mo
lasses, they made her and het daughter-in-law par
take or :t, and went away, the next morning,
on visiting their palient, they found the charm had
wrought no enect; Irom which they adduced con
vincing proof to the widow Uiat the devil in her
leg was ol a peculiar malignant nature. Ihey
accordingly told her it would take seven days to
combat him, and on the eighth they would cast him
out. f ursuant to this plan, tbey continued their
magical operation for seven days, and on the
morning of the eighth day informed the widow
that in the evening they would bring two other
strong conjurors, and with their aid would expel
the devil. At the hour appointed, tne conjuror
arrived, and having sent the daughter-in-law for
the limes, flowers, incense and molasses, two of
the party sat at the door as tilers, to prevent the
ngress of strangers, as the devil would not brook
their approach.
Ihe other two disposed the flowers and limes
according to rule, on a bosird, and burning some
incense, and going through some mummery, pre
pared another food-offering to the gods of molas.
i . r. I . . .
morning gown, anu went souiy over to
Amelia.
Amelia had just risen in the most cheer
ful humor. The bloom upon her cheek ri
vailed the blush of morning. She was ani
mated and witty in short she wasenchant-
ing; and her husband, in an hour, discover
ed how much pleasanter it was to breakfast
in company, than to sit alone, and opposite
a glass, gazing at his own person, and iook
ing into his yawning mouth.
"Why don t you come here every day f
said Amelia, "if my company is pleasant to
you? He answered that he teared his pre
sence might prevent the visits ot others.
I shall miss no one, so long as you in
demnifv me by your society."
. . - . r ....
"Upon my word," sau me count,"i nave
more than once wished that I was not your
ladyship s husband.
"Why sot" demanded Amelia.
"That 1 might be allowed to tell you,'
returned he, "how much I love you."
"Oil! tell me so, I beg," cried she, if only
for the sake ot novelty."
"Fear not," answered the Count, "I hope
my lady, I shall never so far forget myself;
but we have had, 1 think, two very agreea
ble tete-a-tetes' at supper how it you
were this evening to allow me a third?"
The appointment was on both sides exact
ly adhered to. llieir conversation was
this time less lively, less brilliant; they ga
zed at each other oftener, and speke less;
the heart began to assert its influence, and
even arrived so far, that they once during
a pause, involuntarily squeezed each other's
hand across the table, although the servants
were still in the room. Who could have
believed it?
Amelia very plainly perceived that it was
late, but she did not look at her watch. Her
husband made not the sma'lest'eflbrt to de
part he complained that he was somewhat
tired, but not sleepy. In a word, from
this day they parted in the morning instead
of midnight, because they were then both
ready to breakfast together.
The Count, enchanted with his new con-
ses, and giving it to the two women to eat with
drew and sat near the tilers. Shortly after they
had swallowed it the widow fell down and became
senseless; her daughter in-law also felt giddy, but
retained sufficient consciousness to perceive and
be alarmed at the state of her mother-in-law she
went therefore to where the four magicians were
sitting in the dark, and said to them, 'What is the
matter with my mother-in-law? They replied
Don't be alarmed, nothing is the matter; only the
devil is coming oui; you will hear him speak pre
sently;' not satisfied with this, the girl turned all
of the conjurors out, and begging a female neigh
bor to sit at the door, got another to lead her by
the hand to her uncle's home, as her head reeled,
and she was unable to walk alone. As soon as
she had gone the conjurors came back to the house
and frightened the female neighbor away, telling
her that tlicy were casting the devil out of the
widow's leg, and that if she approached he would
enter into her. Having thus cleared tho field,
they proceeded to ease the widownot of the devil
but ol a gold nose ring and necklace, and then
departed. When the girl returned with her uncle
they found the old woman lying like a corpse and
stripped of her ornaments, and shortly afterwards
the dose administered in the tood.oHenng, which
in all probability was stramonium, begun to take
effect on the girl, and she also fell senseles; to
wards morning they both recovered, but only par
tially, as it appers they cast off their clothes and
went about naked to the neighbors, who brought
them back and administered some medicine; after
another day and night, being now perfectly re.
covered, they went to the betel leaf shop of Daood
and Dhoolajee, and the widow asked why they did
not come the two last days to follow up the tharm?
Daood replied, 'What is the use of our coming
alone; the other two conjurors are our masters in
magic we are only disciples, and it would be
useless to come without them." The widow then
stated that she had been robbed of her jewels, on
which the disciples observed it must have been the
other two master magicians that had done it, ad.
ding, "If you will give us 25 rupees and a horse
to ride after them we will pursue and seize them."
She replied, "I am a poor widow; where am I to
get 25 rupees and a horse? The authorities will
decide betwten us."
And forthwith she lid them both taken up by
the police.
The two tilers, as well as Dhondeeha, have ab.
sconded, but the two principal actors in this scene
of imposture and robbery Daood and Dhoolajee,
were brought to trial, and being convicted, were
sentenced to seven years' transportation to Sing,
pore.
A prttty Riddle. "I will consent to all you
desire," said a young female to her lover, "on
condition that you give me what you have not,
what you never can have, and yet what you can
give me." What did she ask him far? A bin.
band.