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mw SERIES-VOL. I, NO. 6.
ATHENS, GA., THURSDAY MORNING, AUGUST 5, 1847. UtUVESSnY OF GEORGIA UBMS*
VOLUME XV. NUMBER 17.
TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM,
V«t«i •( AdrerllilBf.
Letters of cfiaiioa 92 75
Notice to Debtors tad Creditors 3 25
Four Months' N<xics*. 4 00
Bale of Personal Property, by Executor*, Adminis-
4 75
Application (or Letters of Dismission !... 4 50
Other Advertisements will be chsrfed fl 00 for eadfy
twelve Knee of email type, or late, first .insertion, and 50
cents for each weekly continuance. If published every
other week,62} cents for each continuance, if publisb-
a month it will b* charged 75 cents each time.
For aeiagle insertion, 91 00 per square.
Advertisements, when the number ofinrei
marked upon them,will be published till forbid and charg
ed accordingly.
IT' Notice of the sale of Lends end Negroes, by Ad
ministrators, Executor*, or Guardians, must be publish
ed stitt oars previous to dsy ofssle
•9" The sale of Person si Property, in like msnner,
most ho published forty bars previous to dsy of sale.
99* Notice to debtors and creditors of an c
be published forty usys.
•0* Notice that Application will bo mad^
of Ordinary for leave to sell Lend or Ne|
OH0.
From the Pledge end Standard.
WHAT A PAIR OP ANDIRONS COST.
‘Peter,* said my uncle, knocking the
ashes from his pipe and laying it on the
corner ofthe mantlepicce, and then fixing
bit eyes on the nndirons, 4 Peter; those
andirons cost me one thousand dollars !*
‘Dear me ! r exclaimed my aunt.
• Oh lather !* exclaimed the girls.
* Impossible!* said I.
• True every word true. One thous
and did I say?-r*ycs—two thousand—
full two thousand dollars.
‘ Well, well,” said.my aunt, folding
up her knitting for the night, * I should
Jjko to know wbnt you are talking about.’
My uncle bent forward and planted
bit hands firmly on his parted knees,
and with a deliberate air, which showed
no doubt of his being able to prove his
assertion, ho began:
* Well you see, a good many years ago,
we had a pair of common old andirons.
Your cousin Letty says one day, 4 father,
don’t you think those old andirons are
getting too shabby ?* Shabby or not, .1
Well, fifty for paper and paint’—
Two hundred.’
‘ Three hundred and fifty.*
Then fifty for carpet, and one hun
dred at least for furniture’—
1 Three hundred and fifty.”
Ahem 1 There’s thut clock too, aud
the blinds—fifty more*—
* Four hundred exactly.’
My aunt and cousins winked at each
other.
* Now,’ continued my uncle, ‘ so much
for this one room. No sooner was the
room finished, than the complaints came
from all quarters about the tuning-room
and entry. These each cost two hun
dred more. What does that count, Pe
ter?*
* Eight hundred, uncle.
* Then the chambers—at least four
hundred to make them rhyme with the
down stairs.*
4 Twelve hundred.’
4 The outside of the house had to be re
paired and painted, of course. And two
hundred for that.’
4 Fourteen hundred.*
4 Then there must be a new piazza
front that cost two hundred.’
4 Sixteen hundred.
Here aunt began to yawn, Letty to
poke the fire, and Jane to twirl over the
leaves of a book.
4 A new carriage came next, Peter,
that cost two hundred dollars.’
* Eighteen hundred.’
* Then there was a lawn to be laid
out and neatly fenced—a servant to be
hired—parties given occasionally—bon
nets and dresses at double the former
cost, and a hundred other little expnses
in keeping with the new order of things.
And all this grew out of those very andi
rons. Yes, Peter, I was entirely within
bounds when I said two thousand dol
lars.’
The opposition was silenced. My
aunt immediately rose and guessed it
was bed time. I was left alone with
and nobody killed. When she came
down from the mountains, whence she has
been rolling big stones upon people lie-
low, softens down to a jelly, and be
comes as quiescent as a goose pond af
ter a lempest. The breeches won’t fit
—she must resume the petticoat, and be
a woman after all.
My hearers—How loving is woman !
Aye, she is amazingly sticky in her at
tachments. She. will cling to the cho
sen objects of her heart like * possum to
a gum tree ;* and you can’t separate her
without snapping strings that no art can
mend, and leaving a portion of her soul
upon the upper leather of her affections.
She will see something tqlove where
others can discover nothing even to ad
mire ; and, when her fondness is fasten
ed upon a fellow, it £tays there, like
glue and molasses in a bushy head of
from a different cause) -to use the lan- •
guageof the Jewish matron,— 4 Why was
my prayer accepted ? Why did heaven j
in anger hear,me when I asked a son ?**; A> ne °f l «ie boys whats jest cum home
—~ „ i front Mexico was tellin of a crowd of
*rchants Magasne.” 1
ENTERPRISE AND WEALTH OF JACQUES CCEUR
J fellers tot her cvenin about the war, and
My hearers—How childlike is wo
man ! A plaything herself, she is fond
of every plaything in the world’s great
toy-shop. Her home is in the realm of
fancy—her existence is a kind of reali
ty—her very miseries are mingled with
a pleasing romance—her present is al
ways bright and her future still bright
er. Would that I were a woman to be
pleased with every posey that pops its
head above the weeds of a wicked
world, and have no thorns to molest
while gathering the wild flowers of
imagination! Childlike—woman is ve-
jy happy. Tickled with the straw of
flattery, delighted with every rainbow
tinted bubble that floats upon the wave
of time, and as merry as a cricket, she
dances to the sunlight of joy, and seems
to use every endeavor to coax male,
moody mortals, into brighter and hap
pier paths. So mote it be.
how lie fit at Mounteray— 4 Thunder !*
ses h&, 4 you may talk aHout your yeath-
(juakes and sich, but I c in tell you what
boys, one real, genewine scrimmage like
we had at Mounteray, is worth all the
fourth of Julys that ever
into one. Ther ainl nothin in creation
like it. Geltiii tite
have you arrested and punished.* The
negro, trembling with affright, promised
instant compliance, if massa wouldn’t
have him sued. In an hour after, the
meat was again in Mr. S.’s smoke house,
and the fellow agreed at once to leave
the neighborhood. As the guilty party
was retiring, he asked Mr. S. how he
discovered it was he that robbed him,
, as he was sure that nobody had seen
s, nocked i him and that he hail told nobody,
in creation j « That was just the case with me; I
brandy smashes to |j nobody, so that we two were the
oul y P«w>ns who knew any thing about
The life and tqnes of Jacques C(eur,
the French Argonaut, has recently been
published inLondon. Tbi.s work con
tains the only notice, we believe, in Eng
lish, of the great French merchant and
financier of the mfddle ages, during the
reigus of Heury V. and VI in England.
The 44 London Examiner” thus states
threading fact, in the life of Jacques eU)Vale)1 a whll^S^'i^piria
c f. u T r * lo a man °L active imagination. But
•• It waa he money of Jacques Coeur i( - wam to fcel ulterlban a sl.nl-
el“ VS, %
Arc; and it was his honest VjDPjUby like ^uld pull upa tree by therms
and steady manly counsel, which seem „ii „ • tA J , • ,
to have sustained the tender and brave “ d t,t
heart of the uoblest of royal mistresses,' further . j , ' , V! n
Agne.Sorel.in her efforts to save the I 0 see further, hear better, and lmlle
King. On her death she' selected him! '°e<ler,jump h.gher, and s ep further and
for her eiecetor. He had sprung from i I™*®' ! ' ,a Y“ u , ever d,d “ \°' ,r
the people, and raised himself, by 6UC . | a» y°e ve got todo ts jest to take a hand
~.«Vnl commercial enternrise. toalevel! w >"> old ,^ CK « them infernal Mexi-
ana be ordered up to the pints ol
immediately return me all my meat. I’ll cal mourning* Nations should wear
mourning only for their benefactors.—•
The representatives of nations should
commend to their homage none but the
heroes of humanity. The Congress had
throughout the Ignited States a mourn
ing for one month lor the death of Frank
lin ; and at this moment, America is
paying this tribute of veneration and
gratitude to one of the fathers of her
constitution. Antiquity would have rais
ed altars to the mighty genius who# lo
the advantage of mankind—earth—was
able to restrain alike thunderbolts and
tnouen^hey would hold the wood up as
nicely as if they were made of gold.—
So I Daid no attention to Letty. I was
So I paid no attention to Letty. 1 was
afraid she., was growing proud. Soon
after that, Peter,* continued my uncle,
‘ your aunt took it up-r-*
• There it goes/ interrupted my aunt,
—* ~et along without dragging
ok it ufS, Peter, and she
Bbors could afford brass
JTwcre no bettex^off than we
p: she said * Letty and her
were just getting old enough
to tee company, and the Stingy looking
old andirons might hurt their market.’
1 knew that women would have their
own way and there was no use in object
ing, ana so I got the andirons.
4 The price of them was four dollars
and a ball— 1 '
• Ah that’s more like it, cried my aunt:
1 tho’t you said two thousand dollars.*
* My dear, I wish you would not in
terrupt* me. Four and a half. Well the
first night after we had got them, as we
all sat by the warm fire talking over the
matter, Letty called my attention to the
hearth, the stones of which were crack-
the subject. He was a persevering man
and never gave up what he undertook,
till lie had done the work thoroughly.—
So he brought out his books and ac
counts, and set about making an exact
estimate of the expenses. lie kept me
up till after midnight, before he got
through. His conclusion was that the
pair of andirons cost him Twenty-four
hundred andfifty dollars.
cessful commercial enterprise, to a level
with the princes ot his age. He found
French commerce behind that of every
other nation, and left it prosperous and
increasing. Direct and speedy commu
nication with the east seems to have
been his great idea. Modern Europe is
still contending for it. He had at one
time in his employment three hundred
factors; and the rest of the merchants
of France, with the whole of those of
Italy, are not supposed to have equalled
this one man in the extent of their com
mercial dealings. As rich as Jacqu<
Cceiir, became a proverb. It was even
Look at her
fair, smooth brow, her soft, quiet, me!
^ ^ ^ aneboly smile; gaze on her dove-like
my uncle, who was not inclined to drop ' e y e ?» an ^ me-—is she not beautiful ?
From the New York Mercury.
SHORT PATENT SERMON.
My text this , morning is contained it
these words:
How solvetesa is wot
IIow childlike is w<
My hearers: Sure enough, how solve-
less is woman ? She is an unguessable
riddle—a most intricate enigma; a flow
er which by analyzing no one cau tell
a certainty whether it be poisonous or
noxious—not always. She has been with
man from the beginning, and he hasn’t
found her out yet. She is comparative
ly an unexplored country—an alphabet
of hieroglyphics—a magnetic mystery.
Nobody knows what her heart contains.
Sometimes it seems stuffed with love,
tenderness and sympathy; and at oth
ers filled with grit and gravel. It won’t
answer to shake her;—if you do you
At least so thought Edwin Moreland,
5 he saw her sketching beneath the
ide-spreading branches of a venerable
forest tree; and in one short year she
was his blushing, happy bride ,* in one
year more she was a widowed mother.
ther lance's and bayouets like we was at
Mounteray.*
4 Did you feel sheer’d, Bob !*
4 Skect’d the thunder,’ ses he, * I
didnt have no time to feel skeer’d.
be sure I felt a little skittish when I seed
we was gwine to have it sure enuff*.—
Perhaps I did feel a little weak in the
jints when I seed the officers unbutton
ing thershirt collars, and the men throw
ing away ther canteens and haversacks,
as they was marchin up to the works,
whar the greasers was waitin for
uccauic a uiuvciu. u was even i , • . , • _ • . , , , .
rumored aud believed llmt he had found i devd h,s ? u . n P“ * d “ nd b,s
the philosopher’s stone. And bo proved I fin ? cr on l - he Mew’d they
ORIGIN OF THE HUMAN RACES.
The 44 Mercury,” of Charleston,
tig some brief but interesting remin-
o e rC“wea!foby givinglt’’noble pH- » lct “ *«» il ’ “ dI $
J Ti • i # | t :Lf Q ® strous uneasy till it cum. But when it
He raised three armies for . t i i
„ . , • • | did cum—-when I heard the balls whis-
Cnarles at his own cost, ana he repair— | , . , ■ j • , . n
edandre-establislised, in his office of I &™£*"*J*
iscenccs of Nehemathla, a chief of the
Seminoles, relates the following to show
what is the tradition, among this tribe of
Indians at least, in relation to the ori
gin of the white, red and black races :
In the progress ol the negotiation at
Camp Moultrie, in 1S38, between the
U. S. Commissioners and the Indians, it
became important to ascertain the pop
ulation of the Seminole nation. By re
quest, a census was handed in by the
chiefs, and on the commissioners asking
if the statement embraced the blacks
who were slaves, there was so violent a
burst of indignation from Nehemathla
as to require rejoinder and reproof from
those who represented the United States.
On explaining the motive of the inquiry,
however, that the commissioners, in the
allotment of. territory, were desirous of
providing for the negro as well as the
Indian, Nehemathla was Reconciled to
the supposed indignity cast upon his
people arid the negotiation proceeded
and terminated harmoniously. On the
exchange of documents and treaties,
the commissioners received the bead
chiefs of the Seminoles at
tyrants, Europe, enlightened and free#
owes ar least a token of remembrance
and regret lo one of the greatest men
who has ever been engaged in the ser
vice of philosophy and liberty. I pur
pose that it be decreed, that the nation
al assembly’, during three days, shall
wear mourning for Benjamin Franklin.”
o f !
It was midnight!—By a solitary lamp
a mother sat watching near the cradle
of her only child, whose low moans
pierced her very-heart, and whose quick
heaving breath seemed a prelude to ap
proaching dissolution. No words can
describe the anguish the mother.-:—
This infant was her idol, and was about
to be taken from her; it was her all, and
she must resign it. Now, with clasped
hands, and streaming eyes, raised, to
heaven, now bending low that she might
hear it yet breathe, the miserable moth
er had passed many hours of intense
agony. She dropped upon her knees
and breathed forth a prayer to Heaven
—such a prayer as none but a mother’s
heart can inspire—that the God of Mer
cy would spare her child—that the ter
rible malady might be removed, and his
lovely eyes once more open' upon the
light of day! The mother’s prayer was
heard. It was the will of God* to re
store the babe. The crisis of its illness
was past, aud the mother, wild with joy
and deeply impressed with gratirnde,
again looked on It with hope.
ed and uneven. The hearth was entirely cause the acids and the alkalies of her
out of keeping with the new andirons, nature to come in contact; and then
and 1 thought I mi^tt ns well have it such an effervescence takes place as
replaced first as la* The next day a might lower the atnbition of pearlash
mason was sent for to . exiitnine it. He I and cider. Like the month of April,
<caa>e in my absence, and/ when I re-j she is all sunshine and showers. Ma-
turned home, your aunt and cousins all
beset me*at once to have a marble slab.
Ti* mason had convinced them the
hearth would not look decent without a
marble slab, .and they put their heads
together.*.
*La me!* exclaimed my aunt, * there
was no putting any heads together about
it. The hearth was a real old worn out
thing not fit for a pig pen.*
‘They put their heads together, Pe
ter, 1 as I was saying and continued un
till Igot a matble hearth, which cost lift* |P/ industry, boldness, beauty, silks, s j-
iwenty dollars. Yes, twenty dollars, ar* : “‘ ' L 1 L L-_
jlentt. Then I thought I was done with
expenses, hut I thought wrong. • Pretty
soon I began to bear sly hints tb Awn out
about the brick work around the fire-place
not corresponding with the marble hearth,
X stood lor a month or two against your
aunt and the girls but they at length got
the better of me, aud I was forced to
have marble instead of brick. Aud then
the old wooden mantlepicce was so out
of character that it was neccessary to
have a marble one. The cost of all this
was nearly one hundred dollars. And
now that the spirit of- improvement
had got a start there was no stopping
place. The new marble mantle put to
he old white washed walls,
1 must be painted of course, and
’ em for paint, sundry re-
necessary. While this was
nt and the girls appeared
il, and when it was done,
idea the old. parlor could
be made to look so spruce. But this
was only a short respite. The old rag
carpet began to raise a dust, and I found
there would be no peace—’
* Now my dear V said the old lady,,
with a pleasing smile L accompanied by
a partial rotation of the bead—
* Now father!* exclaimed the
ny a tear drop of hers dries and evapo
rates in the warm light of a smile, ere
it has a chance to fall; and many a
bright smile is suddenly quenched by a
sprinkle from some passing cloud of
sorrow, about the size of a bed blanket.
G.riefs bubble up from her bosom to burst
in an atmosphere of joy; and joys like
autumnal flowers, spring from the
warm beds of her heart, to be cut down
by the sudden frost of grief. A queer
compound is woman! She is made up
npril on the coa«tof Asia Minor, when \ \ y u,uslc ‘* was not altogether reconciled lo the Red
T he b T , kn ° W f h ? dBnt ",rr. S 7 r -T i Skin. He returned for seven days more
”Khi. ££.Another example ^“"foemLlts n? ‘ <» bl. labors, and the result was the
, t,„ world’s, re, .tment of its erealest a thing themselves. White Man. He Razed with adrnira-
* Now father!’ exclaimed the girls—*
* Till I got a new carpet. That again
shamed the old furnittfre, and it had to
be tuttied oBt and replaced with new.—
NoWj^eter, count up ray lad—twenty
dollars for the hearth, aud one hundred
Jins, jealousy, Jove, hatred, horse hair,
whalebone, piety, paint, gaiety, gum
elastic, bear’s grease, sympathy, tears,
smiles, affections and kindness. She
talks with her tongue, speaks with her
eyes, is eloquent in her actions, and yet
I can’t understand her.
My friends—How tender is woman !
She is as tender as a chicken, and as
lough as an old gobler. She must be
screened from the hot summer’s sun,
and sheltered from storms, and protect
ed from the blasts of winter—and yet,
if she makes up her mind to do it, she
.can outsweat the sun, face a northeast
er, and be a match for the devil. But
inwardly she is as tender as the mercies
of heaven : her heart is as much softer
than the human as beeswax is softer
than a brickbat. Her sympathies are
as delical&as the down, and her love
appears as fresh and unfading amid the
sorrows of adversity, as the evergreen
wreath that encircles the broad brow of
winter. Her tenderness is loo tough to
be destroyed by Whatever chanee, for-
tune, oretime may bring; tough as tripe
and tvyice as common.
My dear /ricuds—How lofty is wo
man! No matter whether bora iu a
cellar, she can sometimes be as lofty as
a garret. When she once gets her back
up CL cats aud broomsticks, look out for
yourselves! She is as high as Olympus,
and as savage as a sausage machine.—
In her wrath, is as crazy as a bedbug,
Years glided away—the boy grew in
health and beauty, and the widowed
mother rejoiced rn her son. She hoard
ed her scant}’ pittance for his use, that
the idol of her bosom should feel neither
privation nor sorrow. For his sake she
toiled. She procured for him the means
of instruction, and neglected no counsel
to inspire his young mind with senti
ments of religion and virtue. Of her
own wants she thought little. Her
pleasure consisted in seeing him hap
py ; for his sake she lived, and for his
sake She would have died. As time
rolled on, the mother’s heart had not
beca free from anxious fears and forbod-I
ings on account of her son. The boy
loved her, but he was wild and reckless.
He would escajpe from the vigilance of
her careful love, and she knew that gay
society hacl more charms for him than
the solitary home of his mother. She
feared, but as yet she knew not all.
as strong as a tiger, and as terrible as a
for the mantlepiecc and thirty for repairs, j tornado. She can blaze away as though
What does that make ?* r heaven and earth were coming to close
One hundred and fifty, uncle.* 1 quarters; .but in a moment alFisover—
Twenty years had elapsed since that
terrible night she had kept an almost
hopeless vigil by his cradle, when her
prayer of agony was heard, and the
babe, restored to her hopes. It w f as
again midnight; again the mother kept
tearful vigil, but not by the bed ol sick
ness. Her boy had become very irreg
ular in his habits—he heeded not the
counsel or the tears of his moiher t and
night after night, she awaited his return
with trembling fears. These watching
cares were more dreadful than those
which she had feared would be the last
in his cradle. Her prayer was still of
fered up to Heaven that he .might be re-
storeef—that he might be saved, not from
death, but that worse than death—from
Wickedness. A knock came at the door;
the mother flew lo admit her boy.—
There was bis lifeless body, borne by two
of his companions. She fell senseless
to the ground. Her maternal anxieties
were hushed lor a while in death-like in
sensibility ; but she recovered to hear the
dreadful tale—that in a quarrel with hb
dissolute associates, her son had receiv
ed a blow which had caused his death !
Whaj tidings for a mother ! She saw
him laid in the grave, where she shortly
followed him. G rief for his untimely fate
shortened the life which had been de
voted to him who had brought her with
sorrow to the tomb.
How many mothers have reason (tbo*
Argentier, the deranged finances of the
Kingdom. But his weakness seems to
have lain in the direction of personal
magnificence and splendor, and'to this
we may trace his fall. He did not al
low sufficiently for the prejudice of his
age, and at last arm^d them for hi$ ruin.
He is described to have far transcend
ed, in his personal attendance and equip
ment, the chiefs of the most illustrious
families of France; and when ‘Ghtfl’les
made his triumphal entry into Rd^ien,
the merchant, Jacques Coeur, was seen
by the sideof Dunois, with arms arid tunic
precisely the same as His. ‘ HiS'destruc
tion was planned by a party of the no
bles, and an indictment of all sorts of
crimes preferred against him ; among
them the charge of having poisoned Ag
nes Sorel. He narrowly escaped tor
ture and death ; and only this by con
fiscation of his treasures (which his
judges divided among themselves) and
perpetual banishment. The latter re
solved itself ultimately into a sort of
strict surveilance in a French convent,
which he at last escaped by the fidelity
of one of his agents, who had married
his niece. He was again characteristic
ally engaged in active pursuits, and be
ginning life anew as the Pope’s captain
general * *-
illness
He left.
of the world’s treatment of its greatest
benefactors.”
From the memoir we make a single
extraetjn regard to the commercial en
terprise of the great French merchant:
44 In the course of twenty years Jac
ques Coeur had more commercial power
than ali the rest of the merchants of the
Mediterranean put together. Three
hundred of his agents resided at the dif
ferent ports, not only of Europe but of
the East; and in nil the nations contig
uous to France. Every where his ves
sels were respected as though lie had
been a sovereign prince ; they covered
the seas wherever commerce was to be
cultivated, and from ^fclhest Asia they
brought back cloths of gold and silk,
furs, arms, spices, and ingots of gold and
silver, still swelling his mighty stores,
and filling Europe with surprise at his
adventurous daring and his unparalleled
perse vfet ance. Like his great prototype,
Cosmo de Medici, who from a simple
merchant, becamfc a supreme ruler,
Jacques Coeur, the Medici of Bourges,
became illustrious and wealthy, and
sailed long in the favorite breezes of for
tune, admired, envied, feared and court
ed by all.
44 His wealth gave rise to a proverb,
long retained by the citizens ol his native
town.* 4 As rich as Jacques Coeur,*
expressed all that could be conceived of
prosperity and success. Popular tradi
tion asserts that, so great was the pro
fusion of the precious metals that he
possessed, that his horses were shod with
, , , » . - ment. On the removal of the cloth,
from the pavement whar they struck-1 (for Nehemathla, Blunt, and manv oth-
when the whole street was m a blaze of „„ were not ign „ rant o( lhe form ' 9 and an opossum, a gray squ
fire,and the men was drappin round me co()rtes ics.>ftlfcdinner-table,)and whilei and P oodl <‘ d,, S ! He afterwards had
the glass was circulating, Nehemnlhlaj lhe,honor of s.ttmg down to a dinner
adverted to the unpleasant incident of j ^ ,t J I lie f a /Jy
the morning, in which he had exhibited
From the Rochester Daily Advertiser.
ADVENTURES OF A PRINTER.
The body of Mr. Wo*. A. Wells, the
printer, whose disappearance from the
in a state of mental aberation we
noticed a short lime since, was yester
day morning brought home in the cars#
n charge ot his friends. .
Mr. Wells was a man of uniform kind
ness of heart, and we believe, as he often
expressed himself, harbored ill will
against no one. His life had probably
been chequered with the ups and downs-
of this world more than that of almost
any man in thesfote, if not in the nation.
He served an apprenticeship of seven
years at 49 John si feet, New York, with
Mayor Harper and George P. Morris as
fellow apprentices, afterward procured
a midshipman’s warrant and sailed un
der Com. Morris, in the frigate Brandy
wine, in 1825# which vessel • had on
board the Marquis La Fayette.
Mr. Wells used to say that the gener
al Conferred a particular favor upou him,
by entrusting to his care a rattle snake,
au opossum, a gray squirrel, acock robin 4
like nine pins arter a ten strike—when
the roarin of the cannons, the rattlin of
the muskets, the squelin of horses, and
the shouts and groans of the men was
all mixed up so I couldn’t tell one from
tothen I never thought of nothin but
gettin at the cusses what was hid away
behind the walls and piles of robbish,
in the houses',.on the roofs, and in the
cellars, given us partickeler goss.*
‘You didnt feel afraid none then?
d a little feller who hadnt shut Iris
mouth or tuck his eyes off the speaker
for ten minits.
‘•Fraid, the mischief! How could I?
wansn'l old Zack thar, on his old mill
hoss.prancin aroun* ’mong the plattopns
and colums, givin his orders like noth
in- was the matter ? Ah, boys, game like
bis is kctchin jest like the measols, and
otic look from old Zack, when he’s got
his dander up, would make a woman
fight like a wild cat. He’s the man to
fight volunteers. There’s no need
much temper. He stated, that.they
had among them a wise mao, a philoso
pher, who had communion With the
Great Spirit, and that if ogreeablfe to
the commissioners, it would be gratify
ing to him that he should be heard, that
they might read in his revealments the
only apology lie had to offer for the-dia-
pleasure he had expressed on the ne
gro’s being considered a member of the
Red Familv. The wise man commenc
ed j * -> ~ ——
44 In the beginning tHe Great Spirit
made this earth, and he was pleased
with itsliuritinggrounds, its rich soils, its
mountains and valleys, its oceans and
rivers. He decreed that he would peo
ple it. He labored for seven days and
Duke of Clarence. He had visited
every port in the United Stales exqept
New Orleans and Charleston ; had actls.
almost eveiy principal place
type
from one enfl of the.Union to the other.
In 1816 he vyas in Buffalo without a
shilling in his pocket, but in a short time:
he earned $160, with which he renewed •
his adventures. He was once, confined
iu the dungeon of Buenos Ayres danc
ed with the daughter of Gov. Barclace,
of the Island, ale cassada root with the
negroes on the coast of Africa. He
"built «-«aw mil Land dain._agross Bear
Lake in western Michigan, aod hacT'OC*'
upied every situation in a printing office
from devil, to editor. .He has sipped
malic an d danced amidst the giddy throng
ol Buenos Ayrean lasses, u pon the pampas
iu u. rxc luimrcu lur seven uavs anu . .v, ' • • . ,
e made a negro. Though gratified of Israfo. and ridden wuli his coach
• • •**• 1 and four with the pooler to-the governr
at this first of human beings, into
[whom he had blown the breath of| ment.
He worked
f a stand.n army when he s m com- lire> be was n0 , satistiei] .
mand, for he d make the greenest volua- | sevt , n days more and produced a0 l„.
leers that ever shouldered a musket j dian . Though more pleased with this
stand agin the whole Mexican nation, led seconi i than the first of his creation, he
by all the ginerals they can muster, j wa8 not altogether reconciled to the Red
Wasn’t you monstrous glad when
yer time was out, Bob—so you could
cum home?* '
Not by no means, I wasn’t. I’d staid
til vit, if it hadn’t been for old Scott.’
Why, don’t you like Scott?’
To be sure 1 do—he’s a first rate
feller, and knows bow to lick the Alexi
us too. But 1 didnt suit him.*
‘How was that ?’
1 Why, you see the gineral’s got pret
ty well into the hart of the country now
•rite in among the wimmin, and he
he dont want to enlist any more good
lookin men. He ses he aint afraid of
all the’Mexicans that can bear arms, be
cause lie knows his men wont surren
der to them, but ho ses he dont like to
risk ’em to the arms of the Mexican galls,
who never fails to lay seige to the hart
of every good lookin volunteer they git
thar eyes on. And, boys, Mexican bul
lets and lances is hard things to dodge,
but look out for the black eyes of them
Seooreetas as they call ’em—you might
as well try to bid defiance to a streak of
liglitnin, if you happen to be good look-
in enuff to draw ther attention.*
4 So, then, it was your good looks pre
vented you from stayin in Mexico ?
4 To be sure it was. They would’nt
give.no bounty to good lookin men,
cum home.*
gazed
tion if pon this last as the perfect ion'of
his works. But the Negro and Iudian
ere still alive; and what was to be'
done lo promote harmony and preserve
peace. The Spirit thought awhile and
assembled his three races of human be
ings, at the same time placing before
them three huge boxes. On one was
marked Hoes and Axes, on another Bows
and Arrows, and on the third Books.—
He saidlo the negro, as I made you first,
justice you shall have the first choice
he selected the hoes and axes. The
Iudian became restless and Irantic with
apprehensions, and under his native im
pulses, was almost in possession of the
box of bows aud arrows before the
Great Spirit said,- 44 You now choose.”
The box of Books fell lo the white man
—-not by accident, but by design.”—
With the most emphatic action, the In
dian philosopher then said : 4 * The Great
Spirit Has decreed that the negro shall
Mr. Wells was vice-president of the
first Harrison state convention ev?rbeld*
in the United States, at Niblo’s Garden,
New York, and it is said wrote the first
editorial in favor of Gen. Harrison foe
the presidency. In former years he
wrote with a deal of vigor and ability#
but of late years a clonic affection of
the brain had rendered him incapable
of any laborious duties, arid in fact had
caused a mental derangement, which
accounts for his many eccentricities.
Previous to his death, be bad been en
gaged in writing his biography, which
was nearly or quite ready for publica
tion. By permission of the 44 old mart
eloquent,” it was to be dedicated lo the
Hon. John Quincy Adams.
THE LAST FICHT.
Bill Stumps threatened lo thrash Tom
Ha inly. Tom, who was a sleani-boat
pilot heard of it, and seeing a crowd
gathered one day at the settlement where
Stumps lived# Handy rounded to his
boat tied her to a tree and went ashore. ,
44 Bill Slumps,” exclaimed Handy,
coming directly to the business in hand,
“ you want lo thrash me don’t you ?”
44 Why, no Tom, not’s I knows on,
you haiut done me nothin* particulartLS
fell the forest anil till the soil to make J
subsistence for man.
roam the wilderness, and canoe on the
rivers, and in hunting anti fishing, seek
his pastime and support. The white
man shall read and gather those stores
Uie soil to make | Well Bill, if you don’t want to whip
fbe Indian shall j f ee \ j esl whippin you and I’ll
of knowledge from whicbhe is to derive frl |^ s = vcrc selected for seconds, or to
give you oue dollar and the tu fust licks,
:r "ou’l stand up to me.”
I’ll do it hoss!” exclaimed Bill,
stripping for the fight. Two stalwart
the rules for instructing and governing
the oiners. While these relations exist,
peace and harmony will prevail; dis
turb them, and no other results cau fol
low, but am/thi/ation to the Blackand lied
HOW TO CATCH A THIEF.
Some time ago a gentleman residing
on the Delaware, upon going into his racc * J be negro and Indian will di:
smoke house in the morning, to make up
silver ; a common reputation, even at; the fire, as was his custom, discovered
the present day, enjoyed by persfms of
singular wealth. The adornment of
Bourges, where he was born, was not
one of the least projects ot the great mer
chant ; and having, with a large sum,
purchased a considerable tract of land
the town, he began. 1443, to build
that the house had been broken open
the previous night,. and all his meat
stolen. Suspecting that it was someho-
pear before the inarch and rapacity of
the white man.”
With prophetic instinct, Nehemathla,
dieted what the abolitionist is now
Stolen. CUSUGVlIllg lUHl lb .. ue oi/u.v.yv j .
dv who must have been acquainted | tempting to wnljf. *
about his place, and knew of his well ^
tilled smoke house, be said not a word to
any one about his loss, but went
see fair play. -Tom paid over to Bill *
his dollar, and stood up. Bill drew off
and popped Tom in the eye, knocking
him down. Tom rose up like an honest
man for the other lick. Bill popped
him in the other eye with the same effect;
but uo sooner had he done so, than he
sung out ‘thuff! nbff! take him off! take
him off?” . The seconds as in duty
and his philosophey, seem to hiave, pre- Hound, caught Torn and Held him fast,
a *“ ilif*. ifirthf was ended: one nartv bad cri-
tbat magnificent mansion which still a \ f every morning, and mode up bis fire
remains a noble relic of His taste and
wealth.” i
Generous.—A youth who, it is chant-
bly presumed had never “seen the ele
phant,” recently found himself in the
company of three young ladies, and gen
erously divided an orange between them.
had -Wool-ho rabbet sn.oke
innocent .* *£ 1 have three dr four more
as though nothing had occurred—leav
ing the affair to he divulged as it might.
For two weeks he heard nothing of bis
loss, and had almost given up hopes of
the success of his plan, when one morn
ing a coloured man, living in the neigh
borhood, meetipg him on bis place, ask
ed him very concernedly, ^whether-be.
MIRADEAU’S EULOGY ON FRANKLIN.
The following are .the terms in which
the Demosthenes of the French Revolu
tion speaks of our veperated Franklib.
oujr tnnoce
in my poch
ctP'
‘You be darned,* as the Yankee gal
said io.the hole iu her stocking. *
house?
•Yes, I have,’ said Mr. S.
“ Ah! who might it be V*
* It is you !*—seizing the man by the
collar— 4 you scoundrel; and unless y on
On the morning after the intelligence of
the death of Franklin reached when the
assembly was convened. Mirabeau rose
and spoke as follows:
44 FRANKLIN is dead ! The genius
that freed America, anH poured a Hood
of light over Europe, has returned to the
bosom,of the divinity. The sage Tvhqpi
two Worlds claim as their own; the man
for whom the Ins lory of science and the
the fight was ended; one party bad c
ed .enough.
Tom Handy went on hoard the “ SnOr-’ J
ter” with two bunged, eyes and with a
lesson of wisdom that lasted him as long
as he lived. He never offered a premi
um to fight after that.
A Cockney and a Yankee were dis
cussing the hospitality of the Americans.
44 They behaved very Shabby to me in
Boston,” said John Bull. ‘‘That was
because you are an Englishman,” replied
Jonathan. 44 Clever as you are,” re
torted JoJin, “ I have you there; for I
__ _ was travelling with a Yankee, and they
history of empires contend with .each I served him as badly as they did me.*'
other, held, without doubt a high rauk'I “Oh, they treated him so because he
in the human race. Too long has the ! was in had company," was the last we
ctliqueue of courts prescribed hypocritk'heard of the argument. '