OCR Interpretation

The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, January 22, 1857, Image 1

Image and text provided by State Historical Society of Iowa

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84027352/1857-01-22/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

.i a
i i A
'f UJt m'. 4 J}**'
SSffgS. 'i|V 'j'"
.s**- w
ffEW IF.Rir.8, VOI».
A 4
XO. i .'' It'
@k (Dttumtoa Co unci
I»y J. W. NORCK19.
tine Ocpy, per )mi ............ .v. S1,W*.
"Ktwonty .... .........84,
Where payment l« not inade In advanr*, •2/10 Within
ilfnnuth?, t'J.Sn w 11lilii the year, and #S,w at the ex
of the j't ur.
o i a
BT BUri coo*.
4j»*MIud boy's been at play 1
merry R*m«*t" we had!
We frtl him on Lis wa.tr, mfth*,\
And «rery step wait glust
hut when we found ft ft wry I
An«l iratm-ii Its \-arled hue,
A tear
trrruMiDg down Ms chHk,
JlWt like a drop of dew. 1
W» took him to the mill, mntmy'1
Where falllof wntrr* made'*
A rainbow o'er the rii!?,
A* (fot'.icii #un-r*ys ptnyi-di
B«t when we nhooted at the
And hailed the clev, blue »ky,
lie etood qr'tr still upon the bunk,
And breatb-d a long, long itgh.
We aektd him why he wept, mother,
When eVr we found the epoto
Where pt-rlwlnkles crept, niotber,
O'er wild forjtt-t-me-not*.
"Ah *1^:" he tald, while tvar* ran doW»,
A* fast as summer «howeri»i— ••.••
"It becanpe 1 cannot nee
On nil I l«ive the beat
Aod hcu I nei the dancing i
And da»lt i red and white,
I ksn-cl upon ttie ivutloit-S"'!,
Kod i! «nk my (ij fur B'L'ht.
J3U |«1rvfsting ^loni.
fo» forrrit's "spiwt or tbk tiiow."
on the western iraterB knows
Chvi^y 1) a|
J#W hit •e^«atbtene»»
think th»»y do.
Charley is a liffle fast: travel.* tTip river
eifTbt months in the year, and lia? .tometimes
leett known to engagt in a quiet pame of bra
draw -poker, "just for the amusement of hi*
fellow paswnirer#, nottiHi^ elae." To tlx«f
who know Charley, it is unnecessary to
that he generally coccecda in "amusing"
Iljit to otrr s'ory. One sweltering Aupu#t
•lay, Charter travelling on one ft the
dotty thoroughfare® known as county loads,
in tb« State of ltoosier. Choked with dust,
half melted with ()ie heat, jaded with a hnrd
M'lflting horse, that wuuhi inai-t upon waltz
ing around every Mnck stump at the road-side,
and with not a grocery upon the whole line
cf the road, our trf veller was of course in a
most benevolent humor.
Jjjpmehodv had 1o be victimized, or Charle_,
wfuld not be eble to sleep that night. The
only question was, wh* it ahouki be, and that
was soon answered.
A short turn of the roadhronghthim sudden
]j upon a Jetv pedlar whose pack of jewelry
was temptingly displayed at the lood-side, and
wh6 was chaffering with a young Hoosier for
thtsyale of a breast pin, and assuring his cus
tomer "bon his onne*," that tlie article in ques
tion was the very counterpart of the pin worn
byQueen Victoria at hr coronation.
Cfiailey was dressed a la i/oo#ier, and a
sharper eye than the Jew's mi lit have readi*
ly ts-lwen him for what he seemed to be, an tuw
sophisticated denizen of the very ruralest (vide
Webs'er, next t'di'.ion,) of the rural dislii' U.
Reining up bis horse, be cast an admiring
giavce at the glittering treasure of the peilar.
"Why, old filler, you must be right from
Californy," said Charley.
n a
J& :«*o
fcr or fit WUi4'i
Taking Charley confidentially Vy Ihe am,
and leading him out of hearing of the floosief,
he said to hiin,
••Veil, now, my goot frent, I will tell y»tl
ju«ht how it ish. I have been in dish business
jusht three yearsh, and I Have made all t4
mush inonish as I vant. I only vant to shell out
rny shtock and quit da bishuess, and live i^)on
my farm in Ohio, de rcsht of my life. My
goot frent, I will sell my shpwelry to you so
sh?ap as you cannot buy it in New York.—
You E-ball have it vor jusht vot it cosht me ia
de old country. I shall sharpe you nossing
vor ze carriage, and nossing for ze duties."
"Well, that's fair enough, at any rate/' sqtf
my goot frent, you vrll take "wy rort
vor dat, I k^owsh,'* said the Jew, with an air
of half-injured Innocence.
It ws« novV Charley's turn to take the Jew's,
measure and after a look, which the latt«r
sustained with a placid smile of virtuous con
fidence, he said—
'•Will, old boss, vou heve got an uncommon
hon^t face, that's a fact. Oive us yeur hai«l
I could take your word for a load of corn,
without laeasttiiit1 it, any day you'll4iev tod*
the calculation,' for I aint gut no lernin."
The Runnhlne and the llowotp."
OW that poor, flglitleM bov. mother.
lie taught me !'it I'm tloH
#or I ran look with joy, mother,
didn't think
tbcrc rvaa that much real gold in alt Iloosier."
4Dere nowsh young man, do you hear dat?
'Itersh a shentleiuttii asb knowsh golt. hear vot
l%i« was addressed to the Hoosier, who had
just expressed some vague doubt as to the pu
rity of the metal.
Charley got oti' his horse, hitched him to a
fence-corner, and sitting down by the out
spread pack, seemed lost in some abstruce men
tal calculation.
The Hoosier proved rather a slow custom*
etp#*rhe truth was, he had not a cent of mo
ney present or prospective, and the Jew had
began to suspect as much, so he turned his at
tention to his new game.
"Vot can 1 sel's you to-day, my goot frent—
of ear-rings vor your stweet-'art, or a
nie« dimont ring vor 'er finger?"
"Diamond! why that's what they cut glass
with, aint i'?"»aid Charley.
The Jew entered into aleugtheaed history of
thadiamoud and its uses, embracing some farts
not yet generally known to tbe scientiiic
is *11 these 'hings pure gold?" asked
"Vesh, ye*h, all de very besht—no jewelers
jolt, but right from Californy."
|*Wbat might you ask a feller for this?"
jitras a pin of magnificent proportions, an
ot*1 of painted glass about three inches by
flimsy rim of washed metal, and
lth for the Indian market about fifty certs.
my frent, seen' its you, I'll sell it
sbeap. Zay vive tiollar. aatsh two dollars
ledk d*a I solt von to de governor's vtfe for,
laslit veek.
Charley stuck it on his shirt boson, but
vben be spoke of wearing it to church next
Sunday, even the old Jew opened his eyes
slightly, and bintttd something about its being
purposed vor a lady bo vcar."
ArtJde after article was priced by Charley,
axd onpaliated upon by ihe Jew.
"Well, old feller, said Charley at lengttg,
"thlm'sall very well for retail prices) but hoW
took another lonj
"thim'sall very well for retail prices) but ttoW Gov. Hamlin of Mi
Maine, has resignad kin
T* t:.-.. -v -Tr.'
a J,7
"Vat you meansh, my frent, by whole
"J want to buyy*i%Wt'*nd gtf Into 0»« batf
ness niyself."
Tlie Jew looked at him for A ill minute bo
fore he answered. He was taking his meas
ure, and he thought he had It.
look at
his e'lktouier, but the stolid simplicity with
which the latter met his ga*e, was too muoh
for his penetration, and he sat down beside
the pack to make an inventory of its con
"Ju«f t'm rotft ht the old coontry, remember,
old feller.'*
••Vesh—yesh, jusht de cosht nossing vor
ze duties or carnage."
The Jew drew forth a n^NmMranjum
book, and opening at a blank page, spread it
upon hi* knee preparatory to taking an "ac
count of stock," as the merchants say.
The first thing taken up for sppraisem^nt
was a flashy wnteh eliain, which the Jew ven
tured to value it ten dollars.
••Cheap a* dirt," siid Charley "couldn't be
made for twice the money in this eotmtry."
1 he Jew winced he bad evidently lost five
dollars by not raying fifteen, and he determin
ed to make it up oil the next article, which
proved to be a breast pin of even more impos
ing proportions than the one which had tirst
captivated Charley's fanry, and the Jew bold
ly put it down at fifteen dollars.
•'Come, come, old host, that's pilio the ago
ny a little too high."
Ron mv onner, my freot, it cost me fifdeen
dollarsh, in Karis."
••Too much—too mach —say ten dollars, and
put it down."
"My goot frent, yon vlll rain roe—«ay twelve
dollars'—rome now, *lou nte little brofit."
Tae winning ^mile with which this was said,
conquered, and the pin was put down at twelve
Two long mortal hours,'did the Jew perspire
over his task. Tlie sun seemed to have been
gotten up especially for the occasion, and nev
er shone half as intensely before, while the
wind brought ihe dust from all pofnfB Sf tlie
compass at once.
At last, the inventory was completed, and
footed up some nine hundred and odd dollars.
The Jew rolled the pick up, and for the hund
redth time wiped the mingled perspiration and
dust from his brow.
"Well, what about the leather contraption
that you carry 'em in—you'll throw thai, in I
s'pose, won'tyoiu"
"Veil, veil, I s'posh I mush* do jltj" said
the Jew with a rleasa it smile.
"How much did you say it all comes to?"
"Nine hundred and vorty doo dollarsh end
vivty eentbh."
"You must Ihrow off the two dollars and
fifty cents, and call it even nine hundred and
"Veil, v*M, vt vowt phhuid npon trifles—it
shall be usli vou say, my frent."
"All right, then, old feller have you got a
pen and ink about you?"
'•Vot vor you vant pen and ink, my frent?"
want to give you my note for the money."
"Your note? Vot vor I shall vant your
note? I vant your monish, not your note I
don't know you."
"Neither do I know your,** said Charley,
"so there's no advantage on either side. Be
sides, that's the way always trade. I was
willing to take your word for the cost of the
things, and it's darned strange if yog cfcjji't
take my note for the money." $
Tlie Jew fairly danced with rage.
"Well, old feller," said Charley, during a
temporary lull in the storm, "are you going to
stand to your bargain?"
"No—no—no," screamed tho infuriated
Jew, "give m«my monish, and you shall have
ze goodsh."
"Young man," said Charley, turning to the
Hoosier, "can you tell me where I can find a
justice of the peace in this neighborhood."
"Daddy" happened to be a justice of the
peace, and the young man gave very explicit
directions how to fiud his house, about two
miles ^further on and mounting his horse,
Charley rode off, vowing that if there was any
law in the land, he would see whether a man
could make a fair bargain and then back out
from it.
Tlie young Hoosier is prepared to make his
affidavit, that the oaths and curses in whieh the
Jew sought to relieve his overcharged feelings
for the next hour, actually killed two young
birch saplings that stood near.
jy Woman is like ivy—tb« morfe yMare
ruined tlie closer she clings to you. A vile
old bachelor adds: Ivy is like woman—the clo
ser it clings to you the more you are rained.—
Poor rule that don't work both ways. Knock
dow£,|^ bachelor!
how am I to know what they
did.cost?"-} yt ?. ,r
Tbcy only prevail _j#
Who dally inarch onwStd.
j* M««
AtH|ttfVW«OL u-^rk
With an eye erer opensM rt-if
tonjnie that'* not W
u'- -i: And heart that will never
i v To aorrow tuceumh,
battle and conquer,
Thongh thousand* aneall
How strong and how mighfjr
i Who never say fail!
•m hi.
The spirit of angels
Is active I know,
As higher and higher
A* 'is
rn* ¥i
In irlory they go
Mi'tliink* on bright pi
From heaven they sittf 1
To cheer and encouraga.
Aud never say fail!
flooilrich's "Rerollfctinn*."
In most families, the first exercise of the
morning was reading the Bible, followed by a
prayer, at which all were assembled, including
the servants and helpers of the kitchen anu
farm. Then came the breakfast, which was a
substantial menl, always including hot viands,
with vegetables, apple sauce, pickles, mus
tard, horseradish, and various other condi
ments. Cider was the common drink for la
boring people even children drank it at will.
Tea w is common, but not so general as now.
Coffee was almost unknown Dinner was a
still more hearty and varied repast—charac
terized hy an abundance of garden vegetables
tea was a light supper.
Tlie aay began early} breakfast was bad«at
six in summer and seven in winter dinner at
noon—the work people in the fields being call
ed to their meals by a conch shell, usually
winded by some kitchen Triton. The echo
ing from fario to farm, and over hill and dale,
was a species of music which even rivalled the
popular melody of drum and fife. Tea, the
evening meal, usually took pkee at sundown.
In families where all were laborers, all sat at
table, servants as well ns masters—the food
being served befoie sitting down. In fami
lies where the masters and mistresses did not
share the labors of the household or the farm,
the inea'8 of the domestics were had separate.
There was, however, a perfectly good under
standing aud good feeling between the masters
and servants. The latter were no' Irish they
hsd not as yet imbibed the plebian eiivy of
those above t»iem, which has since so general
ly embittered and embarrassed American do
mestic life. The terms democrat and aristo
crat had not got into use these distinctions,
and the feeling now implied by them, had in
deed no existence ir the hearts of tte people.
Our servants, during all *he early part of my
life, were of the neighborhood generally the
daughters t-f respectable farmers and mechan-
ics, respecting others and were themselves
respected and cherished. They were devoted
tion, beca»i«e it did not degrade the heart or
manners of those subjected to it. It wa? nev
er thought of as a reproach to man or woman,
in the stations they afterwards filled, that he
o! she had been out to service. If servitude
has since become associated with debasement,
it is only because servants themselves, under
the bad guidance of demagogues, have lowered
their calling by low feelings and low manners.
At the period of my earliest recollections, men
of all classes were dressed In long, broadtail.
ed coata*tvitfi huge pockets, long waistcoasts
and breeches. Hats had low crowns with
broad brims—some so wide as to be supported
at the fides with cords. The stockings of the
parson, and a few others were of silk in sum
mer and worsted in winter tho*e of the people
were generally of wool, ant blue and gray
mixed. Women dressec. iu wide bonnets—
sometimes of straw and sometimes of silk the
gowns were of silk, muslin, gingham, &c.—
generally close and short-waisted, the breast
and shoulders being covered by a full muslin
kerchief. Girls ornamented themselves wt'h
a large while vandyke. Ou the, whole, the
dress of both Mft And women kaa very greatly
The amusements were then much the
'I "tn iii »iiPyBti m,rnB(n»! w» VM?" •iiiii)'ypf:riiiiri.''i
.J k
',» rtfH n.i
I &»
3 *t »v5
than sitting aside,
And dreaming andid^lMs^
And waiting the
Ip iife'i earnest battle
'twf Je
Who never say fail!
•,jA .«•
Ahead, then, keep pui|^af^
And elbow your way,.
I'uheetling th- euvloutf/
And aeies that bray|v
All obmacles vanlnh, «4
All enemies qnuil, *:,.
la the iniKht nf tbeir wtK|Mi
i". "*i
Who never fay fail!
«e»'! a
In life's rosy morning,
In manhood's fair piMsy
Let thU be the motto
Yotir foutstipr to
In storm and In eunohlaSk
Whatever assail,
We'll onward aud couc
v?" ^amifj |)clusj^(r-'*-®flJoic|| to ^lfUtjioir/ ^oIifits, £UnahtfK^^ .f otal |}rtos, ^|runlto ^fmjfraTicf^"^hcatioii, Utarhrts, £&
The two great festivals were Thanksgiving
itid "training day"—the latter deriving from
the still lingering spirit of the revolutionary
war, a decidedly martial character. Marching
of troops and dis-.harging of gunpowder in
"•iiriahly closed the exercises, and were glo
rious and inspiring mementoes of heroic achiev
•tnts upon many a bloody field. The music
of the drum and fife resounded on every side.
A match between two rival drummers always
drew an admiring crowd, and was in fact one
ik the chief excitements of the great day.
Tavern haunting—especially in \he winter,
there was little to do—for manufactures
had not then sprung up to give profitable occu
pation, during this inclement season—was
common, even with respectable farmers. Mar
riages were celebrated in the evening, at the
house of the bride, with a general gathering of
the neighborhood, and usually wound off by
dancing. Everybody went, as to a public ex
hibition, without invitation. Funerals gener
ally drew large processions, which proceeded
to the grave. Here the minister always mate
an address snited to the occasion. If there
was anything remarkable in the history of the
deceased, it was turned to religious account in
the next Sunday's sermon. Singing meetings,
to practice church music, were a great re
source for the voung, in winter. Dances at
private houses were common, and drew no re
proaches from the sober people present. Balls
at the taverns were frequented by the young
the children of deacons attended, though the
'parents did not. The winter brought sleigh
ing. skating, and the usual round of in-door
sports. In general, the intercom se of all class
si was kindly considerate—no one arrogating
superiority, and yet no one refusing to ac
knowledge it, where it existed. You would
hardly have noticed that there was a higher
and lower class. Such there were certainly,
for there must always and everywhere be the
strong and the weak, the wise and the foolish
—those of the superior and those of the infe
rior intellect, taste, manners, appearance and
character. But in our society, these existed
without being felt as a privilege to one which
must give offence to another. The feuds be
tween Up and Down* wlych have Bince dis
turbed the whola f&htio U society, kftd not
then begun.
It may serve, in some degree, to throw light
upon the manners and customs of this period,
if I give you a sketch of my two grandmoth
ers. Both were widows and well stricken in
years, when they came to visit us in Ridge
field. about the year 1803 or 4. Mygiand
inother Kly was of the old regime—a lady of
the old school, and sustaining the character in
her upright carriage, her long, tapering waist
ami high heeled shoes. The costumes jf Louis
XV's time had prevailed in New York and
Boston, and even at this period they still lin
gered there, in isolated cases, though the Rev
olution had generally exercised a transforming
influence upon the societv of both men and
women. It is curious enough that at this mo
ment—1866—the f*male attire of a century
ago is revived and in every black-eyed, state
ly old lady, dressed in black silk, and showing
hei steel-grav hair beneath her cap, lean now
see resemblances of this, my maternal grand
My other grandmother was in all things the
opposite short, fat, blue eyed, practical, uni
tarian. 6?he was a good example of the coun
try dame—hearty, homespun, familiar, full of
strong sense and practical eneigy. I scarcely
know which of the two I liked best. The
first sanguine plaintive songs told me stories
of the revolution—her husband, Col. Ely, hav
ing l)ad a large aud painful share of its vicis
situdes she described General Washington,
whom she had seen and the French officers,
Lafayette, Rochambeau, and others, who had
been inmates of her house. She told me tales
of eveu mcrc
to the interests of the family, and were always Penera"y consisting of ballads, which were
relied upon and treated as friends. In health,
they had the same food in sicknes.*, the same
Citre a* ihe masters and mistresses or their
children. This servitude implied no degrada-
aa at present—though some striking differences
may be noted. Books and papers—which are
now diflused even among the country town* so
as to be in the bands of all, old and youpg—
were than scarce, and were read reapecfully,
as if they were great matters, demanding at
tention and thought. They were not toys or
pastimes, taken up evwy day, and by every
body in tlie ahort intervals of labor, and then
hastily dismissed, like waste paper. The aged
sat down when they read, and drew forth their
spectacles, and put them deliberately and iev
erently upon the nose. These instruments
ware not as now, like tortoise shell hooks, at
tached to a ribbon, and put off and on with a
jerk but they were of silver or steel substan
tially made, and calculated to hold on with a
firm and ateadv grasp, showing the gravity of
the uses to which they weie devoted. Even
the young approached a book with reverence,
and a newspaper with awe. How the world
raited poetry,
suited to my taste. And all this lore was
commended to me by a voice of inimitable
tenderness, and a manner at once lofty and
condescending. My other grandmother was
not ,ess but sliC
promoted my happiness
and prosperity in another way. Instead of
stories, she gavo me bread and butter in place
of poetry she fed me with apple sauce and
pie. Never was there a more hearty old lady
she had a firm conviction that children must
be fed, and what she believed she practiced.
Giace Greenwood, (Mrs. Lippencott.) in AD
address to mothers in the last number of The
Little Pilgrim, thus writes: "Since I last ad
dressed you, another year has passed over us
—a peaceful and fprtunate year to most of
you, I trust, yet doubtless bringing to the hap
piest hearts and homes something af change
and sorrow. To me it has brought the most
profound and sweet, the most solemn and sa
cred happiness of womanhood—for within
this year 1 have been joined to the 'great and
noble army of motkert I am now one ofyo«.
Oh, if there is a time -vhen woman may feel
that she, like Mary of old, is 'blessed among
women,' it is when she folds in her arms her
first-born—feels the touch of its tender little
hands thrill on her heart-strings—feels upon
her cheek the first soft breath of a life immor
tal—sees faintly twinkling in the misty depths
of sleepy little eyes a love that Bhall yet
brighten the world for her. This joy unspeak
able, (his holy triumph of maternity, is Heav
cn's abundant compensation for all that is Buf
feted by woman—for all that is denied to her.
With existence renewed and freshened by the
inflowing of this pure till'from the divine
fountaiu of life—with my heart made more
tender and loving by the sweet, mysterious in
fluences by which babyhood, mighty in help
lessness, and, without speech, most eloquent,
comes to us—I feel like consecrating myself
anew to the service of such as Jesus took in
his arms and blessed—and of you, whom ma
ternity makes kin to her once elected to the
highest joy and deepest anguish of mortality—
her whom he most loved and moat tep4*r)y
remembered in his last hour."
BJF How is it that a husbandman and a
seamstress follow a similar occupation? Be-
J- '.' '.
The Boundary of Nebraska.—"Begining at
a point in Ihe Missouri River where the forti
eth parallel of North Latitude crosses the
itmr thence west on said Parallel to the
eastern boundary of the territory of Ufah, on
the'summit of the Rocky Mountains) thenee
on said summit northward, to the forty-ninth
parallel of noith latitude: thence east on said
parallel to the western boundary of '.he terii
*ory of Minnesota thence southward along
sad boundary to the Missouri riverj thence
down the main channel of said river, to the
place of beginning
The territory extends north nine degree* of
latitude, or j£40 miles, and west from 800 to
10(X) miles, and contains some 450,000 square
miles, or 288,000,()l10 of acres.
This would make about 60 acres of land for
every white male over 16 years old in the Uni
ted States.
Blue ltiver, White and other rivets. The Great
Platte, or Nebraska river runs through 'he
Territory from its source in the Rocky Moun
tains to the Missouri river, on the eastern boun
dary of the Tenitory.
The soil is of a black loam, varying from
two to ten feet deep, and of unparalleled fer
tility, and is adapted to all kinds of grain and
vegetables that can be raised in the same lati
tude, in any part of the States.
The central portion of the Territory (with
some exceptiona,) is rather destitute of tiuber
the soil ra'her sandy, and not so well watered.
The Indians are the only inhabitants of those
regions, log other with the immense herds of
Buffalo, which roam over the boundless plains,
similar to the Indian tribes. These constitue"
the food raiment and wigwams of the ludiaus
of those region*.
The western port ten of Territory .is
mountaincuH, rocky, and in general, barren, as
far as explored, but there are some verj fer
tile valleys along the fool of the mountains.—
The fact is, the central and western portions
have not been fully explored, except along the
Platte valley.
tor of tlie Butfalo Express, on a recent visit to
Chicago, took the pains to ascertain the num
ber of new buildings that have been and are
being built in Chicago this seaH)ti, and after
ascertaining the number made an estimate as to
the number of miles they would be in length
when put together. The result of his estimate
as communicated to his paper, was—seventeen
miles of new building fronts, of the season's
construction, within the limits. Naturally
enough does the surprised editor exclaim:
"What a tale this is to tell of the growth of
ap inland town, mad bow wondeifltl to know
that it is true.,"
From Ihe Wyoming Telescope.
Aa we proroisrd in our last issue, we will
commence a descrip'.ion of our Territory this
week, and shall continue the subject, perhaps,
in our next, as it will requira more apace than
we can spare in one number, to give anything
like a satisfactory description.
The surface of the country in the eastern
portion, along the Missouri rhrer is generally
undulating, but not hilly, except immediately
along the bluffs near the river. It is however
varied from rolling in some parts to almost
level in others thus forming an endless vari
ety of surface sufficiently diversified to suit
the fancy of any man. It is a beautiful Prai
rie country, interspersed with groves of tim
ber. fo: miug (be most magnificent landscape,
viewed on a sunny summer day, that was ever wife, stop your little affairs, and let us have
beheld by the eye of man, prayer.' That moment she boiled over, and
In winter, to stand on an eminence, of a clear said, 'I will have none of your praying about
still morning, and view the white crested snow, me.' I spoke to ber mildly, and expostulated
that mantles the earth, glistening in the sun- i with her, and tried to reason but no, the fur
beams with its silvery hue is equally romantic, ther I went, the more wrathyshe became, and
although it may appear more dreary. she cursed me most bitterly. I then put on a
The country is watered by almost innumer- stern countenance, and said to her, Madame,
able springs and rivulets, of crystal water, if you
The soil is of such a nature lhat the ex-
tremes of wet and drought do not affect it, and
The climate is varied, as it extends through
several degrees of latitude. The south east
ern portion of the Territory is about the same
latitude as southern Pennsylvania, anl cen
tral Ohio, aud the Cliuia'.e is similar, with
some exceptions. The winters iu general, are
not jo cold and disagreeable as in the eastern
country, there being no mud, and very little
rain in the winter, being generally dry, and
moderately cold, but the Mercury never
falls so low as in the same latitude
iu the Eastern States. The roat'.s are al
ways good, and require but little labor, the
bridging of the streams beitg all that is re
The clim&U being dry, and faoe of tixe
country rolling, it is one of the most healthy
countries in the Union. It is the most favora
bly situated for trade of any country iu the
west, lying along the Missouri river, affording
favorable sites for towns at intervals, ti e Mis
souri being navigable for steamboats at all
stages of water. But more about this here
after in our description of the Territory by
We publish the following as the beat
receipt known to us to keep a stove bright:—
Make weak alum water and mix your "British
Lustre" with it put two spoonfuls to a gill of
alum water let the stove be cold and brush it
with the mixture then take a dry brush and
lustre and rub the stove till it is dry. Should
any parts, before polishing, become so dry as
to look gray, moisten it with a wet brush, and
proceed as before. By two applications a year
it may be kept as bright as a coach body.
Ipy Seme person was once asked why
stood before C? Because, was the answer, a
nMst More h« MD """"3
Wr -mrtr
With in the bounds of my district then liv
ed a local preacher, who was a small, very
easy, good natured, pleasant man he was be
lieved also a very pious man, and a good snd
useful preacher. His wife was directly the
reverse snd almost everything that was bad,
saving, it was believed, ahe was virtuous.—
She was high-tempered, overbearing, quarrel
some, and a violent opposer of religion She
would not fix her husbend's clothos to go ont
to preach, and was tin billing he should ask a
blessing at the table, or pray in the family.—
And when he would attempt to pray, she we'd
not conform, but tear around and make all the
noise and disturbance in her power. She would
turn the chairs over while he was reading, sing
ing or prayiug, and if she could not stop him any
other wav, she would catch a cat and throw
into his face while he was kneeling and try
ing to pray. Poor little man! surely he was
tormented almost to desperation. He had invi
ted several preachers home to talk to her, and
see if they could not moderate her but all to
no purpose she would curse them to their face,
and rage like a demon. He had insisted on
my going home with him several times, but, I
frankly confess, I was afraid to trust myself.
I pitied him fcom my very heart, and so did ev
erybody else that was acquainted with hissit
uation. But at length I yielded to his impor
tunities, and went home with him one evening,
intending to stay all night. After we arrived.
I saw in a momem she vr/s mad, and the uevil
was ia her as big aa an alligator) and 1 fixed
my purpose, and determined on my course.—
After supper he suidtoher very kindly,'Come
were a
which rivulets, uniting, in their meandering you of your bad ways, or I would break your
course through the prairies, form larger! neck.'
sireams, such as the Weeping Water, the Ne- "'Th* deril ywi would,' *a she. Tps,
malms, Salt River, Elk Horn, Loupe fork, y°u »r®
wife of mine, I would break
pretty christian, ain't you?' And
then such a volley of curses as she poured on
me, was almost beyond human endurance.
"•Be still,'said I,'we must and will have
prayer But she declared we should not.
'Mow,' said I to her, 'if you do not be still,
and behave yourself, I'll put you out of doors.)
At this she clinched her fist, and swore she
W4s one half alligator, and the other half snap
pini^-'urtle, and that „it would take a better
man than I was to put her out. It as a small
cabin we were in, and we were not far from the
consequently the farmer who cultivates his ®*y arm, and swinging her round in a
farm in a workmanlike manner, never fails to circle, brought her right up to the door, and
have a reasonable crop, no matter what kind of shoved her out. She jumped up, tore her hair,
a season there may be.
which was then standing open. I caught
ioamed and such swearing as she uttered, was
seld equalled, and never surpassed. The
door, or shutter of the door, was very strong
ly made to keep out hostile Indians I shut it
tight, barred it, and went to prayer, and I pray
ed as best I could, but 1 had no language at my
command to express feelings at the same time,
I was determined to conquer, or die in the at
tempt. While she was raging and foami in
the yard and round the cabin, I started a spir
itual song, and sung loud, to drown her voice
as tnuch as possible. The five or six little
children ran and sq iatted about and crawled
under the bed*. Poor thugs, they were seared
almost to death.
"I sang on, and she roared and ilunde-ed on
the outside, till she became perfectly exhausted
and panted for breath. At length, when she
had speut her foroe, aud became calm and still,
and 'hen knocked at the door," saying, "Mr.
Cartwright, please let me in."
'Will you behave yourself if 11st yonis?*'
said I.
'O yes," said she, 'I will,* and throwing
myself on mv guard, and perfectly self posses
sed, I opened the door, took her by the hand,
led hT in, and seated her near the fireplace.—
She had roared and formed till she was in a
perspiration, and looked as pale as death. Af
ter she took her seat, "O," said she, "what a
fool am I!"
••Yes," said I, 'about one of the bi?ge*t fool?
I ever saw iu all my life. And now,' said 1,1
'you have to repent of all this, or you must go
to the devil at last.' She was silent. Said 1,
•Children, come out here your mother won't
hurt you now,' and turning to her husband,
said, -Brother C. let us pray again. We kneel
ed down, and both prayed. She was as quiet
as a lamb.
And now, gentle reader, this was one of the
hardest cases I ever saw on this earth, I must
record it to theglury of divine grace. 1 lived to
see, iu less than six months after the frolic
with the devil, this woman soundly converted
to God, and if ever there was a changed mor
tal for the better, it was this said woman. er
children, as they grew up, all. I believe, ob
tained religion, and the family became a re
ligious, happy family, and she was as bold in
the caune of God as she had been ia the cause
of the wicked one."
The city of Chicago appears to have been
fixed upon, by common consent, as the metrop
olis of Christian education for the West.—
There will soon be within and around it. no
less than five Theological Seminaries—Bap
tisf, Congregational, Method's*, New S hool
Presbyterian aud Old School Presbvteiian.—
Three'of these are connected with Universi
ties, viz: the Baptist, the Methodist, and the
New School Presbyterian, or Liud University
the latter being so called from the magnificent
endowment of $100 000 gnen by S. Lind,
Esq., of Chicago, to found a Theological De
partment. The professorships are endowed
with $iit),00() and the remaining $10,000 is a
the support of indigent students, which
Jhvill keep tvven'v on their way eoiilin illy.—
he Old School Presbyterians have just voted,
in the Synods controlling the New Albany
Seminary, to transfer its available resources to
a new Institution, the location of whieh has
been since determined at Chicago.—M. Y.
Ole Bull, the famous, was arrested for
debt n. New York on Friday last. Ole has
made a great desl of money with his fiddle, and
had he "stuck to hi* trade" might now have a
handsome fori tine. But Ole has a taste for
speculation. He some years since founded a
Norwegian colony in Pennsylvania, which has
proved very troubesome to his pockets. Dur
ing the last Presidential campaign he started a
paper at the West. We
infer the profits of the paper were not sufficient
ly larere to enable him to swing clear of the
•»if jisi
?•'$ i
«&?!$ 10
,«!s»ii«y! ,:« .1
TEHflN, ti
I, VOL. 8, WO. 4ll
•AO la Adtanefi
^ttnbaj |lfaiJing,
From the llaltimore Patriot.
Soon h* espied a tiny boy clad in Tags.
so prematurely wrinkled and care-worn thai
he now looked as if he never could nave po?
essed the happy and innocent face of chPt
hood. His clothes had evidently descended!
from at least ne generation, and were 'a worljp
too large* for his poor little body. Tear#
stood in the eyes of the child for he had bee#
sent to purchase for a sick mother, some small
article for which the sum tightly grasped i#
his hand had been insufficient. A group o§!
jocund, laughing children passing by, the raglP
ged boy looked wistfully at their toys an#
bundles in their hand, and aftcrthey had passP
ed sat down upon a cellar door and fairlv sob#
bed his little heart away. At that moment
gentleman came along and wa$ about to pasit
without noticing the boy, when the angep
whispered in his ear Turning round, he fo#v
the first time saw the child, and after putting
some money in his hand and saying a fen#
kind words, he left him. The faces of botljf
were more calm and happy, and as the angell
looked he could not but feel how muck 'mor^
blessed it is to give than to receive
A party of joyous boys were seen carrying
their skates, and hastening toward the riverj
Fearful of danger, the angel followed anc^.
watched their gambols on the sparkling ice.—jp
It was not given to him to see into the ftiture|p
and as everything seemed going on safely,
'GTory to God in the highest, and on earfjjfc'
peace, good-will toward men.'
•To-day for us our Lord was born, comelefe
us adore him.' V
The mornine was breaking Of! the aimfvwwriL.
ry of our Savior's nativity .when an anfl lookp,
ed down from its home in th# skies, upon th«t
world at its feet The sun was just rising^
and casting its beams abroad upon hills mjfc
valleys, town and country.
Everything looked so bright and beautiful
that the angel for a long time admiringly gaz*
ed and wondered that there should be so moc Ijf
3in and vice, where all was so fair to look upt
The bells were soon heard ringing* tnerrj
peal, and the angel decended and walked invti
ibly among the beings that now began to rrowt
the streets of a great city. Narr wly hi
'canned the faces of all to see if a: y wore th
appearance of perfect happiness. But all bort
of sin, and that 'first disobedl
ence,' thit 'brought death into the world ant
all our woe.' Many were exchanging jest
and good wishes, while others looked mitserafe
ble, as if even hope itself, had forsaken them?.
Pitying while he beheld, the angel thonghK
that for this one day, he would try to the nti
most what power he possessed to avert ev®
from human beings, and influence them to d|L
was about to leave, when aery of agony ros^t,
from the startled and a we-str ck boys. Onf|
had broken in, and the rest stood by, anxioutt
but totally unable to save their comrade: Htyfc
hands of the youth were placed upon a piec^r
of fine ice, while he felt gently drawn up, ancJI
placed upon the shore in safety. His friend#
wondered how he had strength left to do sop
and that evening, while sitting at his father'*,
fire-side, he told them how he bad broken thro{|
the ice, and drawn himself out, when he ha^|
thought be was about to die. With teaiiu$
eyes his mother said: i
•Some good angel must have helped yoa, my
The sound af revelry and mirth vn heartR
within the walls of a noble and stately man-j^
sion. The feet of the guests pressed the s
est carpets, and their eyes restt on the nobles^
works of art, aa they pressed their way thrc
crowded rooms, to offer their congratulatioc
to the host, who had been exalted to a place o^
high honor. Wealth was his and all the lux%
uries that it could purchasi but he ssessecjfc
what be valued far more,afair, unsullied naiuea,
and great earthly glory. He had reached ih%
piunacle of fame, but his heart was sad aik
heavy within him. His only child—he whe
was once the light of his eyes—over whos
infancy and boyhood he had so anxiously
watched—who was to inherit his name and
wealth, had forgotten his early lessons, an«]
had not only wand red into paths of vice, bu^
had acted so dishonorably, tliat had strict jus-j
tice been dealt him, he would now be occupy^
inga felon's cell.
Unobserved, the father left the thoughtless
multitude, and enter an inner chamber. Herei
the strong man bowed his he and wept.—*
Suddenly he was aroused by the door opening,,
nd some one softly entered. Looking tip, he*
beheld the objecr of his thoughts, but haggard*^
anu way-worn. Involuntarily he rose, and theg^
two confronted each other, and thought of the!
past. A tide of memory rushed across the mind^
of the father, ami told him what he was nowi
ana what lie might have been.
With a look almost of loathing he turned a«j,
way when the young man cast himself at hisl
feet, and, with tears of contrition, made manyl
promises and vows of amendment. But the!
stern man spurned him, and was about to cast!
him otf forever, when the spirit of his separaJ
ted wife, '£he wl o unto his youth was given.1
more than all things to love him,' now stood^
beside him, and placing 'her gentle hand' in*'
his. plead for their erring son. The armsJ
which a little while before ad been so reso-l
lutely folded, now opened, and the prodTgalb
was wrapped in a long, loving embrace, whin*
the father whispered, 'boy, 'tis th* spirit of thy
angel mother kas done 'his.*
Our good angel next stood among the friend
collected around the bed of one who had beei
so intensely happy here with husband aid chil
dren that if she had thought of a change a
all, it would have seemed to her that no troubl
could come where happiness spiungfroiu sue
a pure and innocent source. But the wate
of life were troubled and where all had bee
light and love, came darkness and desolation
The close was near by, and while children an
friends prayed for the life cf her they loved
she alone, was calm and Ufppy. Earth weary
she closed her eyes and felt a soft hand placet
beneath her head, anu herself borne far away*
Wliithwr, she knew not, but opening her eves,
she found tierself in the arms of him the lov
ed on earth. Supported by the guardian ange
they joined the throng to the blessed aroum:
the throne of Him who had saved them an
bought them with his blood.
And the angel's work for that day was done
amd his rest was where there was no mor
night, but where all was light, and n~ mor«
death or sorrow, for the 'former things haX
passed away*. E. M,

xml | txt