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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. '