Newspaper Page Text
/ ' ✓ jta i* 10 Pi .fl f ■■--■■ ..- - ■-- ■ .■ -— GEORGETOWN, SUSSEX COUNtY, DEL., JULY, 7, 1859. NÖ; 23. L VOL. 2. sm ■'SOETST, From the Cincinnati Timet. NELLY YANE. <4 on ple a of to BY BN06 B. REEP. ; ) ,J il I was sleeping—calmly sleeping— AwTI dreampt ah angel camo, And stood beeide my pillow, And softly breathed my name;— And the form that bent above me, And the voice I heard so plain, I thought were thine, dear Nelly— •?. Loved and loving Nelly Vane! I saw thy dark eyes boaming,— As oft I've seen them beam—■ I saw thy smile, so loving— Although 'twas in a dream— And I felt thy hand's light pressure As it rested on my brow, And I saw thee, Nelly, darling, As I plainly see thee now! But my lips refused to Utter The welcome of my heart; Not In language could I whisper, Not in words could I impart All the joy that filled my bossom— Filled mv bossom, Nelly Vano— On which shadows long had rested, Of remorse, and grief and pain. ut ; But, when you knelt beside me, Andy our lips were pressed to mine And I felt your warm breath on my cheek,!!-;' And your arms my form entwine, The dream—the dream was over, And I know if death had lain His icy fetters round me, I'd have risen, Nelly. Vane. « I'd have risen, Nelly, darling, Td see thee standing there— As I saw thee on that evening So bright and wondrous fair— As I saw thee, Nelly, darling— As I see thee, Nelly now— But not in sleeping vision, With your hand upon my brow! Thy voice—thy kiss hath power To fill my heart with bliss, And call my wandering spirit back From other worlds to this— Let me bear thy voice, dear Nelly, And ne'er will I complain— $ Let me see thee—and I' m happy, Loved and loving Nelly Vane! ONE AND ALL. Oh, tell me* father, was the land Bestow'd on kings alone. Who reign and rule with high com mand Upon a golden throne? It may be so; and yet I sec, When, children-like, at play We quite as happy seem to be As those in rich array. Oh! Was it for a tyrant made, The people to appal?" "No, child—no, child, " said— "'Twas made for one and all. the father Oh! father, fame is won, they say, Upon the battle field, Where men for kings each other slay, And cowards only yield; Metbinks I see my brother bleed, And hear his piteous sigh, Without a hand to soothe his need, A friend to watch him die. Ohl tell me, were men horn to kill, That man by man should fall!" "No, child, it is not heaven's will; This world was made for all. ■ "All things we hear and look upon, From bee to merry bird, Will tell a tale more sweet, my son, Than human lips can word; There's beauty in the flowing brook And in the rainbow's light; A promise in that silent look Revealed by starry night. On golden thrones let rulers reign, And man, frail man, enthral; A mightier power can break the enain— 'Twas made for one and all!" Cohelimentart. —"Mr. Timothy, you remind me of a barometer that is filled with nothing in. the upper "divine Almira," meekly replied the adere«, "in thanking you for that compliment, let me remindi you that you occupy my tipper story entirely-." ■to oaidlfAL, THE FOURTH OF JULY. The sun has once more arisen up on a notion of happy people, a peo ple whoso privilege it is to commem orate this the Fourth of July, as tho ghty third year of our Indepen dence. Eighty three years ago our forefathers were the suhjef, f | of ty ranical England. -Fr^ n jj&.xt ahd three years ago the chains of slavery were clanking around our noble an cestors, and England was making a gigantic effort to weld the last link that would have bound us to the block of bondage and servitude. But the destiny of our nation was otherwise. Heaven had decreed that we should be an independent people. The small spark of liberty which had long been lying dormant within the bosoms of our forefathers was now fanned into a flame. The 'vigorous arms of our countrymen, which had hitherto been weak, were nerved for the struggle for vic tory, and warm hearts beat in unison with those efforts. The fierce roar of the cannon, and the clash of arms, had already been heard upon î plains of Lexington, and heights Hunker Hill. Brave men had al ready been slain as sacrifices upon the altar of Liberty. A stream of blood that was destined to wash a the withering effects of slavery, had already commenced to flow. Men were willing to sacrifice their wealth, friends, yea, even their lives, to secure to themselves and their posterity the sweet boon of liberty. Let us allow our imagination to back to the Fourth of July 1776, and behold the calm and se rioua look of those men, with gigan tic intellects, assembled in the city of Philadelphia, to devise and carry into effect measures for the fredom of this land. Great were their re sponsibilities, hut they were men equal to the task. The glorious sun never shown upon a band of pa triots more competent for the work. Surely they wero men chosen by God, tho great Ruler of the universe. is wisdom that dictated BOB the ut « B It was their thoughts upon that memorable occasion. The platform adopted by that noble convention astonished the Eastern as well as tho Western world, and sages wondered at the sagacity displayed on the eve of the birth of our Nation. birth of our But where are those noble souls now? They are gone. The clods of the valley have long since cover ed them over; but are their noble deeds forgotten? Nay; twenty-eight millions of happy citizens now have the privilege of commemorating the great event of the 4th of July 1776. And the praises of those Worthy Bliall continue as long as the king of day shall reign in the firma nent< . . Can we not on this day, by imag ination, seo the flag of stars and stripes, as it proudly waved over those fields stained by the blood of oqr countrymen? May we not bo bold those brave eommanders lead ing the veterans of the Revolution to the scenes of actiion, and encour aging them, with all th« sympathy of worthy generals, to fight bravely for their altars ahd their homes, See those gallant soldiers fall, bleed ing and dying, and hear them ex claim in the last struggle, "Give us victory or give us death!" Should not our hearts thrill with joy on this day, for the glorious privileges dearly bought. Can we think of the eloquence of a Henry or a Han cock, or the sagacity of a Washing ton or a Green, or the kindness of a Lafyette, and many others, which time has borne away, without feel ing cur souls to bound with rejoicing to God for this our happy country? On this day rejoicing is heard from tho Atlantic to the Pacific, and words of burning eloquence are being poured forth from the lips of th» waters of our fond. The sweet tone» ef music are being wafted up every breeze; and the stairs and stripe» aro-gracefully waving, over this defightfhl Boil, nsfurlëd by the summer's- breeze. Thousand» are still gazing, upon that honored flag with feeftug» like unto-those whieh awellaA tlta bosoms o£ the brave pa? In n BO triots of 1776. To-day is heard the roar of cannon reverberating from for hill to hill, and loud huzzas will be heard echoing and reechoing through the air. Let us rejoice on this day in of golden privileges; let there be a sacred affection in our hearts that shall bind us together in the strong bonds of brotherly lovo. Let us re- of member.that "United,' we stand—I divided, we fall." Let us ever rally around the flag of Our county. Let our motto be, even in the darkest hours of national adversity, "Pre serve the Union and tho Constitu And whilst fanatics and en in of tion.' thusiasts cry disunion and sepera tion, let us say our God and our Country. Though sectionalism may invade our ranks and threaten dis union, let us ever hold firmly to the principles vindicated by the fathers of our country, and endeavor to em ulate their virtues and examples. Alpha. Frankford, July 1859. A PROTEST. I protest that no more I'll get drunk, 'Tis the curse and the plague of my life: It ruins my credit, my health, and my purse, My peace and my comfort, and what is still worse, It destroys the peace of my wife. I protest that no more I'll get drunk, It torments and embitters my life; To ruin 'twould hurry its vot'ry headlong, And reason declares I'm in the wrong, And so do the tears of my wife. I protest that no more I'll get drunk, Nor lead such a wretched, vile life; Its attendants are poverty, shame and disgrace, Disease and despair stare mo hard in the face, And point to my heart-broken wife. I protes that no more I'll get drunk, 'Tis the spring of all tho evil in life; 'Tis tho cur3e of all curses! of mis chief the worst! Tis the plague of all plagues! 'tis a demon accurs'd! And makes me abuse my poor wife. I protest that no more I'll get drunk, For I find it tho bane of my life; Henceforth I'll be watchful that nought shall destroy That comfort and peace which I ought to enjoy In my children, my home, and my wife. T. E. Locustville , Va., June 15, '59. , Late one afternoon, just after the little party had gone into camp, Kit having lingered somewhat behind, suddenly rode into the camp ground and leaped from his horse, giving it in care of one of the men. With his rifle, he then started in pursuit of game for supper. He walked on about one mile from the camp, and there came upon the fresh tracks of some elk. Following up the trail, he discovered tho game grazing on the side of a hill. In the neighbor hood of the animals there was some low and craggy pine trees. Moving along with great care, he finally gained the cover of the trees, which brought him in close proximity to the elk, and within certain range of his rifle. This care was the more necessary as his party had been without meat diet for some time, and began to be in great need there of. These ever wary animals saw, or scented him; or, at any rate he came conscious of approaching dan ger from some cause before he could reach the spot from which he do sired to take his aim. They had commenced moving, and in another instant would have bounded' away out of all reach of his rifle. IBs eye and piece, however, were too quick for them; for, bringing' his piece into position, and' without dwelling ho' sped'a bullet after the largest ral fattest of the noble gpmo KIT CARSON'S ADVENTURE WITH BEARS. beforé'jjim. He had wisely allowed for thé first leap, for his Bhot caught the nibble animal in mid air and broughhim to the earth, writhing in his' deatn agony with a fearful wound 'hrough the heart and lungs from which there was no escape, One qurvjr ran through the frame of the feautiful animal, when he breat' jiis last, Th/,/ çhoing sound of the rifle shot t, /hardly died away, to which the tr& hunter ever listens with un feigned')) music ofc seen tlwi his game is surely within Lis gràèiî the last faint melody was broken-»- ,'pon and completely lost in a terrible roar from tho woods di rectly V^ind him. Instantly turfl ing his i(>ad to note the source of this sotted, the meaning and cause of whieh'he well knew by his expe rienced woodman's ear, educated un til its nicety was truly wonderful, he saw twoi huge and terribly angry grizzly 1 Iota s. As his eye first res ted upon- those unwelcome guests, they »:"•*> bounding towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth glittering white eagernfc ,;to rnangio his flesh, and their monstrous forearms, hung with sharp bony claws, ready and anx ious to hug his body in a close and most loving embrace; There was not much time for Kit to scratch his head and -eogitato. In fact, one in stant spent in thought then would have proved his death-warrant, without a hope of a reprieve. Mes srs. Bruin evidently considered their domain most unjustly intruded up on. The gentle elk and doer may hap were their dancing boys and girls; and,-»like many a petty king in scrag) food they may have dined .latËNUpttaviMitaoW enjoying a sce nic treat of their ballet troupe. At all events, Kit required no second thought to perceive that the monarchs of the American forest were unappeasably angry, and were fast nearing him with mighty stri des. Dropping his rifle, the little leaden bullet of which would now have been worth to him its weight in gold if it could by some magic wand have been transferred from the heart of the elk back into its breech, hé bounded from his posi tion in c|ose imitation of thé elk, leasuro as the sweetest of his ear, whenever he has tion in c|ose imitation of thé elk, but with better success. The trees! he hoped and prayed, as he fairly flew over the ground with the bears hot in ch.se, one quick grasp at a urdy sapling. By good fortune special Providence his hope or prayer was answered. Grasping a lower limb, he swung his body up into the first tier of branches just as passing Bruin brushed against one of his legs. Bears climb trees, and Kit Cars«» was not ignorant of the fact. InBtantly drawing his keen edged hunting knife, he cut aWay for dear life at attack, short branch, The knife and his energy conquered the cutting just as Messrs, Bruin had gathered themselves up for an ascent, a proceeding on their part to which Mr. Carscn was well ae to it to of he the st quainted with the Messrs. Bruin's pride in, and extreme consideration for their noses. A few sharp raps made with the severed branch upon the noses of the bears, while it fairly made them howl with pain and rage, caused them hastily to beat a re treat. This scene of ascending, getting their notes tickled and again de scending; bowling with pain and rage, now kept Mr. Carson and Messrs. Bruin actively busy for some time. The huge monsters and mcnarcht of the mountains were determined not to give it up so. Such a full and fair chase, and to bo beaten by a simple white man on their own domain? This evidently galled their sensitive natures. It is true, the roaring of the hears in his rear stimulated Mr. Carson in the raee, so mueh so that ho undoubtly rati at the top of his speed; and be ing naturally, as well as by long practice, very fleet of foot, he had managed to outstrip his pursuers in the' race: It Ur more than probable that the hears were in too good a condition to run Well. Had it been early spring time they would doubt less have been much lower in flesh. That was their fault too; they should have known- that racing time cannot be made on high condition. After leaving their hibernating quarters they should have been less given to sumptuous habits at the table. Affairs, however, were by no means settled. .They had the dar ing trespasser on their domain treed, and almost within their reach; and, indeed, to keep out of the wajr ot their uncomely claws, Kit was obli ged to gather himself up in the smallest possible space and cling the topmost boughs. The bears allowed themselves a short res to now pite, for during which they gave vent to their wrath by many shrill screeches. Then th ey renewed their endeavors to force the hunter from his resting place.—Mounted on their hind paws they would reach for him; but the blows with the stick, applied freely to their noses, would make them desist. In vain did they exhaust every means td force the man to descend; he was not to be driven or coaxed. The hard knocks they had sustained up on their noses had now roused them almost to madness. Together they made one desperate effort to tear Kit from the tree. As in all their previous attempts they wero foiled, and their ardor dampened and cool ed by the drumming operations up on their noses, which this time was so freely and strongly applied upon one of them as to make him lachry mate and cry out with pain. One time they departed; but it was not until they had been out of sight and hearing for some time that Kit considered it safe to venture down the tree; when he hastened to re gain and immediately to reload his rifle; at a THE DEAD HOUSE AT MU . / NICH; A correspondent of the NeVr York Times, writing abont the funeral of Eberhard, the oldest artist in Mu died the room, saw six corpses, horrible pomp, With canopies, or artificial flowers and foliage over them, and wax candles hurtling all around them. Each was dressed in the garment of life—-'there wore no shrouds. The rigid figure of a military of ficer seemed, èven in death, to be stiffer far a military coat with a high callar, and covered with gold lace and embroidery. Another was a bride; and lay in her veil and orange flowers in the silent embrace of a mightier bridegroom. And the tad Professor in a dress coat, with his white gloved hands crossed upon his. breast, and his head (like those ôf all the others) lifted out of the coffin and propped up by a cushion, seem ed to be sleeping a ghastly night mare sleep—so little did the stern, set face hormonize with the incon gruous dress, and the empty state which surrounded it. Each body had a small wire at tached to a ring upon its finger, and connected with a bell, 86 that the slightest motion would at once call the attendants. This precaution a gainst mistaken burial before life is really extinct, is of long standing here. It is proper to say, however, very fashionable novv-a-days, as to the frequency of such an occur that the oases in which the nich, (Bavaria,) who died on the 13th March last, thus describes the dead house and the precautions ta ken there against burial before life is extinct: When I arrived at the cementery, the body was still in the Liechen haus, and tho oiowd were waiting around the door. I worked my way to tho window, and looked into the laid out in a as rence, supposed dead have manifested life by motion, during the three days of their remaining in tho Liechenhaus, are altogether traditional—pf late, years, certainly, nothing of thé kind has here taken place. HOW THÉ INDIANS MAKE WHISKEY. The Apache Indians have a mono' of making whiskey which would appear riPveV to the manufactam-3 of that article in tho Ohio Valley. The firing up process is rather slow; yet these Apaches seem to get liquor which makes a'good "drunk" come. Tho process, according to a correa sm ondent of the Artcdhian is as fol* E dws: The Corn is first soaked for tweB ty-four bouts, a hole is then diig in the ground, generally in a wigwam; and some dry grass laid on thé bottom; on this grass the corn is placed, and a layer of grass over it: Pour or five times a day Wärm wa ter is sprinkled over the corn, and at night the family sleep on it td increase the warmth, and make thé corn sproqt quick; At the end of four or five days the corn is all sprouted; it is then dried and pound? ed fine, put in a kettle, and boiled for five hours; when cooled, it id mixed with sugar and flour; and left to ferment for twelve hours; when it is ready 1er drinking. Although not rarik to the taste, and fiery, ltd intoxicating power is Very great, and when at Indian has a quart or two abtfard he don't care à copper wild is President Öf the United States. •jr jwrit is the height of folly td wait for the improvement of fools. BSL-The coUrt is like the sea everything depends Upon the wind. jjfgvThe pleasure of doing good is the only one that never wears out : ggp-A Georgia editor accused one of his Contemporaries of "dying his hair and trying to renovate hid carcass, so ät to get some female into the embraces of his rattling bones!'—And why shouldn!t her Guess the ahte-diluvians did the same thing. Unmistakable.— "Sally, what time do your folks dine? asked a dandy; — « "Soon as yoii goes away—that'd missus's orders." Dandy made tracks instaritbr. BgL.it is an unpaidonable offense to show a man yotf do hot care whether he is pleased or displeased. jpfr gf-Men are like weathercocks; which are never constant or fixed but when they are worn out of rusty; jj£g"We must do quickly what there is no hurry for, to be able td demands do slowly what demands jgf»At court; people sing that they may drink; in a village, people drink that they may sing. BgL,"IIow long did Adatd rèmaih in Paradise before ho sinned?" asked an amiable spouse of her husband. "Till he got a Wife!" was thé calm reply. haste. * Baddy's Retort.— A dacent looking Irishman, stopping at a ho tel to warm himself, inquired of the landlord, "What was the news?" The landlord, disposed to tub thé fig upon Paddy, replied,— "They say the dev, il iS dead!" "An' sure," quoth Pat, "that'é news indade.' Shortly after Pat stalks up to-the bar, and, depositing some coppers; resumed his seat. The landlord, always ready for a Customer, asked him what he -Boula take? ... ''Nothing at all," said Pat. "Why did you put doWn this mon ey?" asked the host. "Och, an' sure, sir," said Pat, "if is thé custom in me own coUnthry; when a chap like you loses his dad dy, tp give him a few coppers to! help him pay for the wake!" Landlord stood treat ail round.' fl^""IIuvo you heard my last sell," asked a wag who was doted for joking at the expense of other people's feelings. , "No/' replied Simon, "but I saw the grating Over its windows last, time I passed through Charlestown." t£5~A schoolmaster relates a queer story of one of his scholars—a son of the emerald Isle. Ho told* him to spell hostility., "H-o-r-s-e, horse; he'heganl , "No, not Hbrsfe-tility/' said' the teacher,-"but hostility." "Sure," said Bat, "an' didn't ye' tell me, the other day, not to say hoss? Bejabers, its one thing the one day, and another the uext-J'