Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume], October 17, 1856, Image 1

About Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861

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WILLIAM P. COOPER, J
" WS STAND UPOlrf THK PRINCIPLES OF IMMUTABLE JUSTICE AMD HO HUMAH POWER SHALL DRIVE US FROM OUR POSITION.*K-?JacJcSOn.
? - ? >, v n li . ' *. * " , T<mi .T1 .M r.'O finXM v ; 1
CLARKSBURG, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17th, 1856.
it t ?1 >?MI Ml
. : y. W^ ">? ^
Cooper's Clartasburg Bolster to' published: In
Clarksburg, Va,( every Friday miming, ? at
whieh-$2,ft0 tMll Invariably be oharged. "
No"ajibflpriptioa will be received ffor V learn pe
riod1 ttiah sU mouths. ,
No papcr will be discontinued except at tho op
tion of'the proprietor, until all arrearages' n re
gold up?aud thosu who do not odor theirpaper
to be discontinued at the end of their term of
subscription, will- bo considered as desiring to
Ua^e it continued. *-' > . ?
^VdvortisomeaU will bo inserted at $1.00 per
square of twelve lilies for tli?i: fl,rat three inser
tions. and ttrenty-tivo cents-for ouch subsequent
insertion. ~r- i ?
A liberal deduction on tlia above rate* wili be
made to those"whb r.dvertise by the year.,
Ki adtertisemeut -countedless than a'sqnhre';
The number of insertions must be m pool tied, or
the advertisement wiiibocpntiuucd and cliurgud
noecfrdingly,
Announcements of candidates for office $3,00:
. ALarriages and Deaths inserted gratis. .
A*fl communications, toj insure attention must
be acoinparilod by the author's numo and post
paid.
. ? From the American Fivrrtier. "
QUANTiflf OF SEEDS PBIt ACRE
UISPAK1TI BET\V?EN (iUJIBEK
OF SEEDS SOWN ANP FLANTO
PERFECTED OX SUE SAME
? GROUND.
Bayou' Lafoure, La.,)
Sept. 2; 1866. J
Messrs. Editors :?The introduction of
the drilhculture has been productive of
econpmy in the quantity of seed sown,
while the decreased number of seed bush
els has not decreased, but rather aug
mented the number of bushels in yield.
This is caused by the better covering of
the seed in drill than in broad cast, and
by the air passing through, and in con
tact wlt^? the stocks of grain much better,
thus enabling the grain to draw from tho
atmosphere in a more thorough manner,
the peculiar nourishment, (ammonia, ni
trogen, <fcc..) it Bhoald have. The ques
tion arises in my mind, is there not yet
<00 much seqd sown to^the acre? and
would not a yield equally large ii
not greater, result from sowing less
seeds to the acre, but sowing that seed
thoroughly, and fartiter apfurt.
The question suggested itself to me
some years ago; and since, oa reading
the experiments of Rev. Sidney- Smith, it
again presents itself. In these experiments
which were corroborated by several suc
cessive years sowing, Mr. Smith procured
as much grain to the half acre aB is ordi
narily got from one acre; in fact the
yield was larger than the average either
in Europe or America. Single grains
sown three inches apart, in drills a foot
apart, ?? a space of three ? feet being left
quite bare between each three rows, and
ibis was continued in alternate strips all
across the held." What caused the in
creased yield The land had not been
in cultivation for one hundred years. 1
admit it had time to receive from the at
mosphere during this long rest, a suffi
cient quantity of nitrogen and oilier en
riching agencies to give the growing crop
all ihe manure it needed. But would the
crop have been as large in yield, had it
been ftpwn in the usual manner ? i think
not. and we shall see this by another ex
periment. True, we have large yields of
grain from the rich, virgin soils of our
own country, but not equal to that pro
duced by Mr. Smith, with the small por
tion of seed sown. The cultivation of
the crop which Mr. Smith gave it was of
great bem*lit?he says. '? in the spring i
Well hoed and hand weeded the rows of
wheat, and stirred the intervals with a one
horse scarifier three or four times up to
the very flowering in June." Now, had
not the wheat been sown in drills farther
apart than usual, such cultivation could'
not have been given to it. "The quanti
ty of seed used per half acre was little
more than a peck." Mr. Smith says,
?'aUjoinirtg'the field in which these expe
riments were carried on was another field
which had fotir plowiiigs, ten tons of ma
nure, six or seven times as much seed,
atftl yet it gave a quarter less to the acre."
These experiments repeated from year
to year gave the same results with great
success. Did this result, proceed simply,
from the mode of tillage* principally hoe
ing; from the sus^uaace derived from
t^ie atmosphere ; (the hi.kIc of planiiug
injuring Vach plaui.its due allowance of
lyourTslnueut iVotu the atmosphere) or j
tium the tn-iHuer iu which the graiu wasj
sown, and the small quantity of.seed-giv
ing each grain room to germinate and
lyaturi^?
Let us examine an article in the Coun
try., Uentleman for August 14th. current
year*.page 109, entitled.'A Curious Ques
tion.,! it sa'y .H, "it is a singular illustration j
of.tlie inexactness Agricultural knowledge
ii??Hth<* queatkm, how many seeds are!
th$rein.a pound of our commonly culti
vated field .plants, should still remain to.
be aqswered. It is plain that, the answer
will npt necessarily effect farm praclioe?t
for the quantity of seed which it is proper
tt^ sow per acre, is a matter to be deter
?iiy?pd by experience, not by argument
apaj^ {rom trial; yet surely it is most de
sirable to compare the number of seeds
we grdijiarily sow with that of the plants
we4raise. If in ordinary practice 1.200.0Q0
seeds are sown on every 40,000 superfi
cial feet, or what is more extraordinary,
fifteen'ro'eighteen million seeds <if flax,
are scfftttfred to the same extent, about
three to evefy inch of land, it is surely
well to let the farmer know it. He knows
very writ he does not raise so msny plants
as this?ind struck, as he-must be, by
the enormous disproportion between the
mflMd'hb uses' and the results he gels, lie
will inquire into its causes. The turnip
seed* employed per acre, nu mbers from
600.00C; to 1,000,000 , according to the
kind and quantity adopted : this, if the
row* ace-Mo feel apart, is two or three
dqt??tvseeds per foot arrow, where-a sin
gle plant aloue is to be graton. No doubt
nothing like so many generally oome up,
bu(t ll|enlttthere is a great destruction, by
the ioe, which will explain muoh o? the
discrepancy in this case. What, howev.-,
er becomes of the 18,000,000 of seeds
dt Qkx which' are commonly?of the^ 6?
000,000 seeds of oafs whict^ are some
times Sown per acre?_ There i&'no destruc
tion by the hoe, iii- either instance fyere.
A. single ear' of oats may contain 100
grains?a single plant will generally iu
elude six e&ff, but'if 6.000.000 plauts
should yield as much as this implies, they
would prdduce one bundled loads of grain.
Instead of 600 ^eeds apiece, they yield
but half a dozen each, to produce an or
dinary crop of oats. It is plain thai five
sixthS of the seeds, or of the plants' they
produce, are killed in the cultivation of
the crop; anil the proportion is vastly
greater than this in'the'pultivation of oth
er plants. What U the ordinary seeding
of the clover crop ? Eight pounds of red
clove^, four 'of white clover and fbur of
trefoil may be sown?that is at least 6,
000,000 seefls ppr aoro?a seed on every
'inch of land; but instead of 145. are
there half a . dozen plants on every square
foot of the cloverfield V
" It is manifest that in both of these
cases there is an enormous destruction ei
ther of young plant? or of seeds; and these
I are the two great divisions under which
the caasesof this anomaly mustjbe classed;
faults of seed and sowing and faults of
cultivation."
Now suppose from a change in the
mode of cultivation and quantity of seed
sown a general increase of yield was
produced, this would not be the only gain
to the farmer. If lie sows 50 acres of
wheat in the current method it will take
from fifty to seventy-five bushels of seed
wheat, valued at $1,60 per bushel, least
cost will be from $76 to $112,50. Let
us take the smaller number of bushels as
the average sown per acre, this gives 60
bushels sown at $1,60 is $75,00. Now
take twice as much seed per acre as Rev.
Sidney Smith used?half a bushel per
acre for 50 acres gives 25 bushels, at
$1,50 per bushel is $37,50 saved. If we
save twenty-five bushels in seeding 50
acres wheat land, what an enormous
amount would annually be saved to the
wheat growers of the United States.
I have penned these remarks, Messrs.
Editors, as a hint to call attention to the
subject, that we sow loo much seed to
the acre ; and it is, I think you will ad
mit, of sufficient importance to demand
the attention of farmers, and lead them to
some practical result beneficial to Agri
culturists generally.
I hope to be able to commence a series
of experiments myself, upon this subject,
next year, the result of which shall be du
ly made known through the columns of
the American Farmer. I might havfi ci
ted, to strengthen my argument, the fact
that men. animals and trees grow best
where they are not crowded too close to
gether?and the farmer thins out his corn,
turnips, tfce., that those lef may yield
more. Why not sow with the same
grains, or rather why not sow less on the
same space that each seed may receive
its quantum of nourishment from earth
and nir, and germinate and mature as
God intended it.
I trust Air. Clemson will soon 1 c able
to give publicUr, to his new method of
cultivation, whereby increased products
may be obtained al but small increased
expense, i cannot but think there are
great secrets yet unfolded in respect to
tilling the earth and cultivating the plants
for man's use. We need careful experi
ments assisted, not governed by^ Chemis
try, nor confined to one location, but gen
eral, to add to our experience and shed
the light needed by us, on the noblest
calling of man, Agriculture. II. II.
A H?roic Woman.
A passenger on board the Northern In
diana gives account of tho narrow uc.Q?.p?
of Cicero Fowler and wile, of Tally. There
was but one life-preserver lor Mrs. F. and
her husband; he insisted imperative!v 'hat
she should put it on. She peremptorily
refused, saying she was " poor in health,
am) his life was worth more than hers !"
The preserver having no strap, Mrs. F.
tore the hem from her dress and fastened
it to her husband, whom she continued to
encourage, saying she could hold on to
him, and if the preserver could not sus
tain both slie would bo the first to let go
and leave him to save himself.
The fire was getting hotter and hotter.
The water was thick with human bodies
.struggling for life ; she tore her bonnet,
already on fire, from her head, and hand
in hand with the one she loved butter
than herself, took the dangerous leap.?
As they arose from the water, Mr. Fow
ler assisted his wife in getting a good hold
of him on or about the shoulders. She
wiped the water from his eyes and mouth,
antl encouraged him to retain his hope of
being snved. He continued to struggle
with tfl'e'waves. Half an hour elapsed,
and 'therd were no signs of assistance.?
His strength tfas rapidly faijing ; his wife
observing it, tried anew to cheer him. He
said ho could not stand it any longer ; it
seemed as though he must give up. At
this moment she heard a steamw coming
rapidly'through the water. She says^
" My dear husband, a few moments more
and we are safe. Don't you hear a boat
'coming?" He said he'did, and immedi
ately revived, made all the efforts in his
power, and struggled for himself and his
heroic wife until the Mississippi took them,
with scores of others, on her commodious
decks.?Syracuse Journal. .
Western Cuaractkr.?The "Western"
people are "<tui generis," bold, indepen
dent, self-reliant, generous, brave, confi
ding, open and manly ir. all their acts.?
They recognise no artificial distinctions in
society ; every man is placed on his own
merits. . One man is considered as good
as another if he aots well his part. I con
fess I love the Western character. There
is a fidelity in it which is not often found
elsewhere. Let a Western man be your
friend, and he will jeopardize his own life
I for you, . If youi;.enemy,, hejs openly?sn
:??? never strikes you in the3dark or stabs
you in tho back.
, ? J - ' * ** "
Courtship apd Matrimony?-A. Poem iu
?Two Cantos.
**v .f!' l- -r? 1-1* ?
CANTO THE FIRST.
COCliTSIIII*. ,
Fairest ofeartli! fftlfoit Vifl near niy vow,
I.o ! at Lhy lmvc?f;to iove thee ever,
And'ilv.lhisf kiss iip6n-t?'t rnd!antbror.%
Promise iiflV-^tion which no lime <ftin sorer :
And tuvu '.vIiIlu fc'or^llau iiuru ui'igii: as now,
To bo extinguished?nover.dearest, never !
Wilcthou ..hat naughty, Humoring heart resign ?
Ca thariufjiny own sweet. K?;e, wilt thou be mine?
f % ? " I
Tlioi^hajt ha\\s peayjU todeuit thy<raven hair?
Thou shuit li*vo all this world of oins can bring;
And we Will i: vein solitude, nor care
For opghtsavo fSfccach other. We will fling
Away all soi row?Eden shall botiiere 1
And th<".u shalt he nW qifeen. and I thy kiug !
Still coy and sfcjll reluctant? Sweetheart, say,
Wlion shallwe monarchs be? ?nd which the duy?
CANTO THE SECOND. , "
l?ATR!MOXY.
Now, Mrs. Pringlo, once for all, I say
I will not such extravagance allow I
Bills nponbil s, and larger every day,
Enoxighto d> ive a man to drink,! vow 1
Bonnets, gloves, fr; ppery and trash?nay, n ay,
Tears, Mrs. Pringle, will not gull me now?
I say 1 won't allow ten pounds a week,
I can't aJ'ord it; madam, do not speak 1
In wedding you I thonght I had a treasure;
I find myself most miserably mistaken 1
You rise at ten, then spend the day in pleasure;?
In fao', my confidence is slightly shaken.
Ila! what's that nnroar i This, ma'm, is my
luisure 1
Sufficient noise thews'umbering dead to waken 1
I seek retirement, and I find?-a riot;
Confound those cliildron, but I'il mako them
quiet 1
DEN NEWLAS'S LGAP.
By un Old Man of Kunuwlia.
Virginia readers. know, that in the year
1774, Governor Dunmore made an expe
dition against the Northwestern Indians.
He led ?n person, one body of troops by
the way of Cumberland to Pittsburg. He
ordered General Lewis with the troops
(volunteers and militia) of the southwes
tern frontier to march directly through
the wilderness to Point Pleasant, at the
mouth of the Great Kanawha, and there
wait his arrival from Pittsburgh.
Dunmore'a march was by a military
road to Pittsburg ; Lewis' was through
an unbroken and almost unexplored, wil
derness of 150 miles from Greenbrier,
then a new and feeble settlement. Yet,
when he reached Point Pleasant, he had
to wait long, before he even heard
from the- Governor. This delay gave
Cornstalk, the Shawnee chief, the oppor
tunity of attacking this division of the
Virginians with the whole force of the
hostile Indians, and well did this savage
commander know how to profit by the
opportunity. From sunrise to sunset, the
battle raged with equal valor on both
sides. At last a well planned manoeuvre
of Gen. Lewis' gained him a decisive, but
dearly bought victory. Peace was made
soon "afterwards, and the army returned
home, leaving a fort and small garrison
at Point Pleasant.
A few months afterwards, the Revolu
tionary war began. British influence,
operating upon the old grudge of the In
dians against the colonists, soon prevailed
upon ihem to renew rheir hostile excur
sions into the frontier settlements of Vir
ginia. Nor did they cease for years after
the Revolutionary war. Hence the fort
at Point Pleasant had to be kept up, anJ
another to be built 60 miles above on the
Kanawha, to protect the new settlements!
in the valley of the river.
, It was sometime duriug tins state of |
Indian hostilities aj'-ut t!)v> iv-volutiou.-the j
incident took piucc, w|iich I about to
relate from an imperfect, and perhaps in- j
acurately remembered tradition, lieftnl ir.
ray boyhood. . The chief incident is how-j
ever, substantially true.
lien Nenylan, a '??? of Point Plcasanl, !
perhaps one of the garrison, crossed ili?i
Kanawha in a canoe, and ranged sewral
miles over the forest covered mountains
on the opposite side of the river,:ia pur- j
suit of game. When he tired his gun al l
some animal, two Indians Happened to be.
near the spot.
One of them shot at him from a dis
tance of more than one hundred yards, j
but missed. The whistling of the ball
started him, and caused the other Indian, j
who had taken deliberate aim, to miss
him likewise. Now the Indians threw
their guns doWn, and with a yell s'arted
after Newlan, arnred with tomahawks and
knives. It is useless to say that Newlan
threw down his empty gun and ran for
his life, even before the sound of the
tomahawk had reached his ears. He sped
home as fast as his legs would carry him.
He had about three miles to run, up hill
and down hill, through brakes, over fall
en trees, and over rocks both great and
small, both fast and loose.
The race began : Newlau was about a
hundred yards before his pursuers. The
hiss of balls, the crack of guns, and the
yells of savages, all had a stimulating ef
l'eot upon his n?Tves, and he ran faster
than he ever run befdre. Not did he re
lax his efforts, nor take time to look be
hind him ; for although the Indians ceas
ed to yell, that they might save their
wind, yet. the crackling of dry brush, the
rustling of leaves under their feet, and
| the rolling of displaced stones down the
! steep hill sides, kept him fully advised
| that his enemies were in hot pursuit.
On reaching-the top of the mountain, a
mile from the starting point, he cast a
look behind him, and was rather discour
aged to see that the foremost pursuer, a
tall, athletic savage, had gained thirty or
forty yards upon him, and the other about
half as many.
Newlan was a $tout aud experienced
mountain-climber, and in pursuit of beara
had run for miles over the rough ups and
downs of a forest country ; but unfortu
nateJy lya.had.,tQ.ooi*tend with two wild
men of the woods, who oould beat him in
a race for his life.
Stimulated lb the utmost by what ne
saw, Ko^sVriiiSecf^ every nerve, 'tie
was'two" mife3' fr<Jfa> his canoe "opposite
to the-fort. ?VYiUr ail" Ms might lie scam
pered over iho^hiUs, and over the ravines,
through brash and througli brier,-leaping
over (alien trees, clambering up precipi
ces, sliding cind tumbling doi^n'steeps.?
Pariting,1 he ran, knd almost despairing,
?when liO' kne-w^ from the sounds in his
Kiar, that the blood thirsty pursuers were
doing hs he was doing, and.vjilh a.,little
better speed. Though he ran forjife, and
they ra*n for his scalp, an object 'of less
importance yet they exerted themselves
no less strenuously; for honor pushed
them ou. It was a trial of speed, and a
race for a trophy ; aud shameful would it
be if they failed, two of them, to win the
prize.
Newlan's ease seemed desperate. He
could not hope to dodge them. They
were too near and too expert in traciug
both man and beast in the woods. He
must bre'ak the way for pursuers in break
ing'it for himsblf ; and he must, if possi
ble, strike the direct line to bis goal ; not
only because it was the shortest line, but
because if through error or obstruction
he turned aside, the enemy might gain
by cutting off his curves and angles, All
the proble accidents of such a flight in
creased his danger. They were more
likely to occur to him, than either of his
pursuers, who had only to go where he
had gone. If he was crippled, or stopped
by an obstacle, he was lost; if one pur
suer met with an accident, another could
still pursue. A spectator of the chase
would have pronounced tliat Newlan's
life was not worth an hour's purchase.?
If he saved himself, it must be by the
rarest of accidents.
After running a while longer he be
came uncertain of his course. The ob
jects before him looked strange. He had
before hunted in those woods, but not in
? that part, where the hills, hollows and
rocks appeared new to the hasty glance of
his eyes. He had started in the right di
rection, but in the hurry of his flight, and
the anxiety of his though is, he could not
pay due attention to the circumstances, by
which an experienced woodsman, like
him, could steer his course aright. He
had to attend closely to what was imme
diately before him, lest one false step
should cost him his life.
Oa attaining the summit of another
mountain, ho again looked back, and saw
that his pursuers were still gaining on
him ; the one beiug scarcely forty, and
the other fifty yards behind him.
Quick as thought, he reasoned, that as
those strenuous savages had gained more
than half the interval in running about
half the distance to '.he fort and he had
probably erred from the direct course, he
must infallibly perisb by their hands, if
his escape depended on liis fleetness as a
runner. He could not hope to save him
self by battling with them, for he was
but one against two, and he had but a
knife, whilst they had also tomahawks.
Looking before him, from this moun
tain top, he saw beyond it, over a deep
valley, a high precipitous ridge, topped
with, bare, craggy rocks, some of which
rose, tower-shape, above the general sum
mit. Instantly the thought struck him,
that those rocks, if he could reach them,
would, if anything could, afford him some
refuge, or some expedient by which he
might evade or repulse his pursuers.
Having delayed but three or four se
com!while tlie Indians were scrambling
after L:r>>. he dashed himself down the
strop ascent, taking desperate leaps ;
. ometi-nev lading, and when fallen, roll
liny and tumbling himself down until he
[could regain his feel without loss of time
Thus' he reached the foot of the mountain a
Hub; further ahead of the enemies than
he had been at the top, but so bruised and
j scratched that he ultimately gained noth
t ing by nil roiling and tumbling descent.
I Crossing the valley, only a few rods
; wide, he struggled' up the ridge, whose
rocky summit he 'wished to ijain. The
w?y was steep nud roU^h. Near the top
lie came to n perpendicular cliff, surmoun
ted by one ot' those tower rocks, which he
had seen from the other mountain. He
was compelled to turn aside, and go some
twenty yards to the left, before he could
lind a practicable way of reaching the
summit of the ridge.
Fortunately fcr him, the ground near
the base of the cliff, was covered with
fragments of rock, and a little below the
base, so thickly beset with young locust
trees and sumach bushes, in full leaf, that
his pursuers, who were near, each other,
and but thirty steps behind him when he
reached the base of the cliff, now lost
sight of him ; and as bis way was jiow
dver clear rocks to the summit, they also
lost the trace as well as the sound of his
feet. This caused them to delay a little.
Knowing that his aim was to surmount
the ridge, thej parted at~ihe base of the
cliff; theonc took the left the other the
right, to make lure of -falling on his trail
Again. He that discovered it first was to
whoop.
By this time the panting fugitive had,
surmounted the ridge, and found its top
to consist of * naked rock, but fire or six
yards wide where he was, and stretching
away right and left, to a considerable dis
tance, crowned here and there by peaks
and rough towers of the same material.
Before him in'a deep, broad valley. be
saw the shady banks and the bright, still
waters of the Kanawha ; and away to the
left, the fort at Point Pleasant, and the
broad stream of the Ohio : but ah 1 too
far away.?a mile and a half at least?
and the deep Kanawha between him -and
tha' only sure refuge. Two or three
fit-ps forward showed him that a mnral
precipice sunk away far below his feet.?
A gUnce to the right, behind the tower
rock, at. the base of . which he first arrived
in ascending the ridge. he perceived a
rock projecting horizontally over the pre~
cipice. He ran to it; about thirty yards,
and' looked down from its point, to see, if
peradvinture, he might diwov^r/a^>%e
of'concealmept or descent. He saw be
neath him only tfie* interwoven branches
of elm and buckeye trees, and grapevines,
from t?i) to twelve fefetljelow the level df
his station. They formed Bo dense' a'
screen, that he could trt>t perceive how
deep this long, natural wall might be ;
but he knew instantly that it must be of
great depth, and must terminate in a
mass of loose, shelving rock. To climb
down was evidently impossible. To leap
into that leafy abyss was horrible to think
of.
But he had no time to "deliberate.?
Savage murderers were just behind,
though now for a moment at fault. He
looked for a place of concealment. Be
hind him, at the base of the tower rock,
appeared a nook or crevio, which he ran
to examine, It might conceal him for a
few moments, but jf the savages searched
the place, as they surely would, he tfould
not escape. He must run along the top
of the riuge. But which way ? The one
would lead bim towards the foot, the oth
er from it, along an open backbone of
rocks and an ascending way for some dis
tance, where he must be seen, and then
have a circuitous route to the fori. The
former would lead bim by the place where
h? first mounted to the top, and where he
might be intercepted ; but past this dan*
geruus point, he would have dodging
places by the way, and ere long the de
scending point of the ridge, on the direct,
way to tha fort. He would have taken
this way on first arriving at the top, if he
had not justly believed that tlie Indians
could be best put at fault by his taking
the other. But now looking out
and seeing the way clear towards
the fort, he started to run in that direc
tion. But before he had run thirty yards
he saw the Indian, who had come up on
that side, emerge from the pile of rocks
twenty -yards distant, where he had been
searching for the lost fugitive. Instantly
the exulting savage raised the war whoop,
and brandishing his tomahawk started to
meet Newlan, who turned and fled the
other way. But no sooner had he passed
the tower rock, than to his horror he saw
the second savage about twenty yards be
fore him with tomahaw.k in hand, coming
to meet him.
Now was he completely hemmed in.?
On the South was the tower rock?on the
North the awful precipice?East and West
were jelling savages closing in upon him.
He could avoid their tomahawks only by
taking the dreadful leap. He had but
two seconds to deliberate which of the
two he would choose. ' He turned as
qickly as possible, and with a run of thir
ty feet, sprang from the projecting rock,
and vanished from the eyes of his pursu
ers.
The Indians, when they reached the
summit saw the awful precipice, and con
sidered it impossible for any mortal to
venture to leap over it. Now they went
somewhat fearfully to the jumping off
place, and looking down, saw no sign of
Newlan but a commotion among the leafy
flexible branches through which he had
sunk. Drawing back, they uttered a loud
ugh ! of astonishment, and partly so of
satisfaction ; for although they would
have preferred to tomahawk him, they
were pleased to have made him dash
himself to pieces on the rooks below.
To get his scalp, and to view his man
gled body, they went down by a circuit
ous route, and searched for him among
rou&rh rocks mingled with soil, and dense
ly shaded by trees and grape vines. But
they searched in vain, everywhere about
the place where he must have fallen.?
Not a trace of him could they discover on
the ground qr in the trees overhead.??
They were amazed. They ooncluded at
last, that either the good or evil spirit
had caugli him in. his descent. So with
two emphatic ughs, one of astonishment
and with some dread of this mysterious
precipice, begloomed with interwoven
trees, they went away downhearted.
About an hour afterwards a slight stir
might have been heard in tho. dense mat
ting of interwoven vines and branches
about thirty feet below the jumping off
place, and thirty-five or forty feet above
the ground. After the stir, the pause
was repeated and continued longer. This
thick intertexture of branches was so agi
tated as to prove that a living body of
considerable rize, was trying to crawl out
of tho leafy entanglement. Soon after
wards, a human face peered through an
opening in the branches, as if to see whe
ther the coast was clear. The reader
knows who tlm was, and from tho cir
cumstances will readily conceivo how
Newlan's life was saved.
He fell among crossing flexible bran
ches, which broke, his fall ; and rolled on
a natural hurdle of slender boughs, wo
ven with grape vines, which bent down,
but did not break down under him.
When, by a good Providence, ho was
safely lodged and concealed here, he was
insensible. -When on taking his leap, he
| felt himself plunging into that abyss whose
rocky terrors below were ahrouded in
leafy darkness, his previous exhaustion
and his present fright made him swoon
away." When he awoke to consciousness,
and found himself in a cradle of green
leaves and pliant vines, he wondered
where he was, or bow he came there.-?
The sound of the Indian's voices from be
low restored. Then cautiously and by
degrees, he descended?and. right glad
that he was alive.
S3T " Have you a Rose ?" asked Mist
Budd of a highly grammatical gardener,
early in the morning. He thought it t
compliment because be was up sO early,
but he was determined to correct th<
grammar. " Have yoa arisen V said he
Ahem 1 O ves, yes ; feel pooty wel
waked up." The gardener started, anc
aa she pla'eked a rose without leave, hac
bis misgivings whicb-bad got np tho ear
liest that morning.
*S ? >* .. 1 WJJ 7^1TT? -
,i>. j An *'Attachment."
We have heard a good story, of which
an Alabama sheriff was the hero. Court
was in session, and-amid the multiplicity
of business which crowded upon him at
term time, he. stopped at the door of a
beautiful widow, on the sunny side o(
thirty, who, by the way, had often be
stowed melting glances upon the foresaid
sheriff. He was admitted, and the wid
ow appeared; the confusion-and fright
which the arrival of her. visitor occasion
ed set off to greater advantage than usu
al the captivatng .charms of the, widow M.
Her cheeks bore the beautiful blended
tints of the apple blossom; h?er lips resem
bled the rose buds upon vfhich the morning
dew yet lingered, and bereaves were lilte
quivers of Cupid, and the glances of lore
and tenderness with which they were fill
ed, resembled arrows that only invited ?
beau (pardon the pun) to do full execu
tion. After a few common place re
marks :
"Madam," said the matter-of-fact she
riff, " I have an attachment for you."
A deeper blush than usual mantled the
cheeks of the fair widow; the downcast
eyes, whose piercos were centered upon
her beautiful foot, which half concealed
by her flowing drapery, partly patted th?
floor. She with equal candor replied :
" Sir, the attachment is reciprocal."
For some time the sheriff maintained
an astonished silence?at length he said:
" Madam, will you proceed to court?"
" Proceed to court 1" replied the lady,
with a merry laugh; then shaking her
head, she said :
" No, sir; though this is leap year, I
will not take advantage of the license
therein granted for my sex, and, there
fore. I greatly prefer that you should pro
ceed to court."
" But, madam, the justice is waiting."
" Let him wait, I am not disposed to
hurry matters in so unbecoming a man
ner ; and, besides, sir; when the ceremo
ny is performed, I wish you to under*
stand that I greatly prefer a minister to
a justice of the peace."
A light dawned npon the sheriff's
brain?
" Madam," said he. rising from his
chair with solemn dignity, ?? there is a
great mistake here; my languago has been
misunderstood ; tho attachment of which I
speak was issued from the office of-squire
C., and commands me to bring you in
stantly before him to answer a contempt
of court >n disobeying a subpoena in the
case of Smith vs. Jones.
We drop the curtain.
A Canink Noblbman.?Wo take the
olio wing from the Trinity (California)
rimes. It records one of the most re
narkable instances we ever heard of ca
line sagacity :
William Dredge lives about five miles
rom town, at the base of the mountain
vhich towers Nortn of us. A short time
ifier midnight, on the morning of Wednes
lay last, he was aroused from his slum
bers by the howl of a dog. No menace
>n bis part could rid him of the presence
>f the strange intruder. The dot; contin
led to walk around the cabin, still re
Deating his dismal moan and howling, oc
sasionally niabiug efforts to effect an en
ranee through the closed doorway, Sur
jrised and somewhat alarmed at this sin
gular demonstration, Mr. Dredge at last
lastily dressed himself and unbolted the
loor, when a large mastiff rushed in.?
L'he dog at once caught hold of his trou
iers, and employed every gentle means to
nduce the man to accompany him out
side. Dredge's first impression was that
he animal was mad; and yet so peculiar
ind earnest were the dumb entreaties,
hat he finally yielded and proceeded
without the cabin. A joyful yell was the
?esult, and the delighted brute, now ca
pering and wagging hjs tail before him,
ind now returning and gently seizing him
ay the hand and trousers, induced Dredge
to follow him. ;(l
Their course was up jibs precipitous
side of the mountain, and soon ihey were
forcing their way through a snow-drift
.hat had settled in one of its numerous
assures. Here comes the wonder. Up
>n the snow lay the body of a woman,
who had evidently perished from, cold
ind exhaustion. ' Her limbs were alrea
ly stiffened^in death ; but what was the
surprise of Mr. Dredge to see Uiat faith
<ul dog ferret out from a bundle of clo-'
:hing that lay by the side4of the woman,
i young child, about two . years old, alify
warm and living! A liuls inspection, ai
led by the starlight and the snow. ena
ble.1 him to discover tbaV the person of
the woman was nearly naked. With s
mother's affection she had stripped her
person in order to furnish warmth to her
exposed infant. The trusty dog kad
completed its work of self-sacrifice.
Mr. Dredge immediately conveyed the
child to his cabin, and arousing some of
bis neighbors proceeded'again to the
mountain to secure from the attacks ot
wild beasts the person of the unfortunate
woman. Her body was buried the next
day. The child and dog have been
adopted by this good Samaritan ; bat as
yet be has been unable to obtain any light
as to the name of the woman or bow sbe
happened to stay on the dismal mountain
side at snch an unfortunate hoar. The
cbild is doing well, and is truly a band
some boy.
Jcar A few evenings since, a widow
who wa?r known by the wbole congrega
tion to bi 'greatly in want of a husband,
was praying with fervency :
" Oh ! Lord, thon knowest what is the
desire of my heart !"
" A m-a-a-n," responded a brother in
broad accent. It was wicked but we are
quite sure that grave members smiled on
tbe occasion.
.3 , I .. i I . .
tST. Why is a. white eofflia*! child
i when crying, like an Indiaiupipaoee?
' Because it's a tquavoling, (squalling.)
t'?; - - . Tlito '^arki' a< .a Mi;e? ; Jfea
I was not long at Constantinople when
I came in for what is a very frequent oc
currence there, vix : a fire.^ rlodee<k I<
believe, that, as a storm ia said to be al
ways going on in some part of the sea, bo
a conflagration, larger or smaller, is al
ways raging in some part of the narrow
wooden streets of Stamboul.
Th?t people hare very few public
amusements; and this is one of the best,
tf I may judg* .by the demeanor of the
crowds, whose singular bearing was tp
me more interesting than iho spuoiackj ,t
witnessed in common with them. At
first I knew not what it meant. X had
observed that vast multitudes were mo
ving with what, for a turk. is hute^ to*
ward the court of one of their mosques,
aud stationing themselves, as soon as
they had reaohed it, on the steps, balus
trades, and every spot whence a vie# was
commanded.
Joining that company, I discovered,the
causcofthe assembly in a whole stfeet,
from which olouds of smoke were rising,
and from whioh it was every moment ex
pected that the flames would burati-r
Nothing could exceed the business tilco
alacrity of those who struggled for aptaQQ
in the balconies, or the placid enjoyment
of those who had attained one. Ia ex
pectation of the event, piles of carpels*.
pillows, and cushions had already been
brought from the neighboriug houses, and
placed wherever room oould be founds .
On those comfortable, seats the ruultt*
tude had established themselves-?the men
in one part, sedately smoking* (die women>
in another now looking oa, and now play*
ing with their children. In a ^moment
refreshments of all sorts were provided ;
sweetmeats, confectionary and sherbet,
by a number of rival purveyors, who ad
vanced with unalarmed alacrity, amid the
smoke and falling sparks, plainly consid:
ering the scene of destruction a sort of
" benefit," got up for their special behoof
and unceremoniously elbowing to one aid?
the police, who rushed with pails of wa
ter on their heads, to the resouo of the
burning houses;
In a few mjoutcs more, the flantes*
burst out with a loud crash, mounting
high into the heavens, and flingjng an OXj
citing and pleasurable heat into the face
of the crowd, who, without ever remo*
vine their pipes, (except to drink,) gased
with silent but impassioned interest on-a
scone, whioh; to them was no more a mat
ter of surprise than a street prqaeher
would be in Ediubifegh, a "Funaiane" at
Rome, or Punchinello at Naples. Among
the calm crowd of spectators were the
proprietors of the burning Itousos, smo?
king like their neighbors, and well assun
red that their loss bad been determined
by Allah before the prophet'was born.?
Dt Fere Sketc/iet.
" W* Can Do Our Owm Kissxho." ?
Not a thousand miles from this vBlago
lives a very exacting landholder. lie
makes his tenants " come to time" on the
day the^ rents become due, and will only
relax his stem degress when a handsome
woman is in question. Not long sine* he
called for his rent of a worthy mechanic
who, by the way rejoices in the possession
of a pretty little wife. The husband waa
not at home when Shylock called, and he
was enohanted with the pretty little wife
of tho tenant. She could not liquidate the
amount due ; but the landlord becoming
really enamored, told her he would gjv*
her a receipt in full for just one kisa. , n
. " Sir," said she; boiling wiih indigo*,
tion, " myself and husband are very pootf
perhaps we oannot pay our rent; but L
tell you, air, we're not so poor but that we
cant do our own kissing."
Ain't that a glorious consolation for
poor folks ? Tho hardened creditor may
take all their property, but he can't de
prive them of the privilege of kissing.?*
Elmira GazetU. . 8
A Yotfiro Haao.?We copy the fol
lowing from the Macon [Ga.] Telegraph.
" We have a private letter from W*a*'.
hoota, East Florida, dated the l?th in
stant, and detailing incidentally the re-,
cent assault upon Captain Bradley'*
houso. It was just after dnsk in the
evening of the 24th Mav, and Bradley>
tying abed siok. Two of bis ebildren?a
little boy and girl?were sitting bafcve,
tl? open door in tbe entry of tbe bottae,
when a band of some twenty lodiana stole ,
upon tbem and fired. The little girl waa
killed outright and the boy mortally
wounded ; but be nevertheless rose, went
in to tbe family, gave ihe alarm, fo^',
down bis gun and fired at th, eruway.--*,
He then baoded it to bia brother, sayiog
be bad Wwrusra for it, W die/inT *
med*At?W. Ks body bwd been pureed,
by two ba(h?. Bradley and tbe other son
kept up ? fire and Ihe .cowardly Indiana
d are not make an assault. Tb? neighbor*
finally gathered and drove them on.**
Kxow-Nothivoisu Bslow Pa*.?Sora?r
gentleman traveling hi a stage coach hear
Auatio, Text*, had for a follow passenger
a "talkative lady, who seoiT informed thini
tbat she was on a visit (atone of her neigh
bors to congratulate him tipon having kills
ed, recently. a Know>fi<>tbh/g, Seeing a
chance for fan, one of the gentlemen A4"
onoe begged permission to fotredtlee tbh'
other, as Lieut. Topo, the leading spirit of1'
a Know-Nothing ledge down tbe country.
" A Know-Nothing ia be V questioned
4e irate lady. ? ,? ?
" He ia." .
" Wellj if I ever catch him in my house ?
eourtmg one of my daughters, I'd run him
out with the dogs, and then send th* nig- 1
gen to dig the tracks out of tbe yard. 1 -
eeorn 'em."
When it was told to the -fete- Reviei"
Sydney Smith that it waa intended to pave
St. Patri'a church yard with blocks, hia
answer waa, h* thought the** would be at*
difficulty in the matter 1* " ~
Chapter would put their I