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Georgia S Statesman.
TERMS, —$3 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,]
BY S. MEACHAM.
THE
OEOP.SIA STATESMAN
Is published ever)' Tuesday in Millcdgeville,
Opposite the State-House Square.
?CP Terms.... Three Dollars in advance,
or Four Dollars if not paid in six months. —
No subscription received for less than one
vear, unless the money is paid in advance,
and no paper discontinued till all arrearages
on subscription and advertisements are paid.
N. B.—Notice of the sales of land and ne
groes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guar
ilians, must be published sixty (lays previous
to the day of sale.
The sale of personal property in like man
ner must be published forty days previous to
the day of sale.
Notice that application will be made to the
Court of Ordinary for leave to sell land, must
he published nine months.
Notice that application has been made for
Letters of Administration, must also be pub
lished forty days.
*** All letters directed to the Editor, on
business relating to the Office, must be post
paid.
. WOMAN.
“ Helena was one of those who
believed that such innumerable affec
tions were engrafted in the human
heart—not to wither, unknown and
unexerted, but to bestow the purest
joys of life. She was bound on ail
sides to her fellow crcatur s—by
pity, by esteem, by gratitude, by
love; every social incident call
ed forth her friendly emotions ; the
wants of a poor neighbor, the atten
tions of a rich one, the sorrows ol
the unfortunate, the joys of the pros
perous, the visit of an acquaintance,
the letter of a friend—each and all
were so many excitements of the an
imating and gratifying feeling of her
benevolent heart. In sooth to say,
there were no periods of stagnation
in her breast ; yet the current of sen
sibility ran not impetuously—now
turbulent and irresistible, distorting
Ivy its violence every reflected image,
now rushing from the rapid torrent
to a still, waveless pool—no, it equal'
ly moved, as the gentle 'but ever
flowing stream, mildly but incessant
ly impulsed.”
But, w ith the tenderness and be
nevolence of this character, is united
a firmness that enables it to repel
every endeavor to tempt it from the
path of rectitude. The discomfit
ure of an attempt to seduce Helena
from lier conjugal fidelity, is thus
narrated; it is a fine picture of a
i American wife. _
The coxcomb sought by every
contrivar.ee art could devise, by ev
ery blandishment flattery could sug
gest, to win that easy prey—a wo
man’s heart. 11c sighed or smil and,
as she looked grave or gny—mould
ed his movements to every graceful
attitude, modulated his voice to ev
ery varied lecling, talked of domes
tic happiness with rapture, deprecat
ed the forms of society with asperity,
and sometimes ventured to hint the
delights of lovo returned. How he
managed it we know not, but he evi
dently rather lost than gained grouud
by his assiduities, and had the mise
ry of finding most of his best speech
es misconstrued. There was a calm
sobriety in the manner, a steady good
sense in the language, an intelligent
expression in the eye of Mrs. Eger
ton, that baffled all" his effrontery;
and really, to do him justice, Adam
Wronghead, Esq. had no small share
of that quality. In short, at the end
of a few weeks, the gentleman was
compelled to heat a retreat, to res
cue himself from the disgrace of ca
pitulation; instead of being the con
queror, he found himself the con
quered ; instead of having to boast
his power, he had to feel her mercy ;
instead of gaining her heart, he found
he had lost his own. It was ever
afterwards amusing to see the dis
comfited beau in the presence of the
woman whose light love he had so
confidently anticipated to gain—his
eye sinking beneath her calm glance,
his cheek reddened at her slightest
comment.
The reflections which immediately
follow are full of important matter for
female meditation.
“ Mrs. Egerton is no favorite of
ours, as may 'caddy be supposed ;
her tame virtues being more calcu
lated to embellish the spiritless
scenes of domestic life, than to gild
the pages of a novel. She did no
thing worthy publicity—nothing that
could be talked of; her favorite mot
to w as, “ Privacy is the sphere of wo
man.”—Her conduct, therefore, to
wards Adam Wronghead, Esq. we
Can neither applaud nor justify ; for
what harm can possibly arise from
a wife giving gracious encourage
ment to the innocent lamiliarities of
her bachelor acquaintance—lolling
on the arm of one, and striking ano
ther with her fan—looking grave
when no harm is intended, to show
she was thinking of what might have
been intended ; and laughing at pal
pable rudeness, to prove her forgiv
ing goodnature, w ith a laudable di*-
daiu of the maxim ascribed to Cajsar
—“ Tt is net enough for a woman to
be virtuous ; she must also appear
so ” —We can recollect only two
rather disagreeable consequences
likely to ensue from such petty trifl
ing. First, the chance of giving pain
to a husband —and what woman of
spirit cares for that 1 Nay, if the sil
ly man chooses to be jealous, this is
the best way to cure him ; for since
jealousy cannot exist without love,
the deuce is in it ifby destroying his
love he will not also be cured of his
jealousy.—Secondly, the general o
pinion that the most abandoned pro
fligate will not presume to violate a
female’s delicacy by a look, a w ord
an act, of undue freedom, if that fe
male does not, Ly the before-men
tioned levity, give license and en
couragement to his folly. Hence,
such petty trifling is deemed too of
ten the precursor of deeper error;
and the woman who begins with ex
cusing levity, too often finishes by
participating guilt. —Perhaps it is as
well for her to avoid both these
chances; th risk—of her husband’s
peace and attachment —of her own
virtue and happiness!"’
The dangerous illness of her be
loved husband exhibits Mrs. Eger
ten as a “ ministering angel.” Her
fortitude, agonized as she is by the
recent death of a darling child, and the
faithful tenderness with which, op
pressed with fatigue and anxiety,
she perseveres in performing til
the kind offices to which affection
prompts, are delightfully portrayed :
“ Mr. Knowlesdon had been ad
mitted to the invalid once for a few
moments, at the commencement of
his disorder, and had retired so over
pow red by the shock of beholding
his emaciated figure and of listening
to his incoherent plainings, that it
was long ere he could muster cour
age to repeat the visit; yet was Mr.
Knowlesdon a man of no common
fortitude—of athletic frame, vigor
ous nerves, strong sense After a
protracted interval of refreshment
from cheering scenes, he again en
tered the sickman’s apartment. Mrs.
Egerton was in her accustomed place
at the side of the invalid, unceasing
ly employed in performing every of
fice of attentive kindness—adjusting
the pillows, offering the cordial, chaf
ing the cold hand, and sustaining the
brow, whispering hopes, and smiling
consolation.—Mrs. Egerton, a feeble
woman, rendered yet more feeble by
watching and anxiety—her slender
form made yet more slender by fa
tigue and abstinence—with no inter
ruptions but those of deepened afflic
tion, no change of scene to revive,
no retrospections ter gladden—her
self the most interest- and in the ap
prehended catastrophe.
“ Mr. Knowlesdon watched, in
mute admiration, the incessant, the
noiseless labors of the unconscious
Helena —the recollection and promp
titude of her numerous arrangements
for her husband’s comfort: his ap
plauding reverie was closed by the
soft tones of her voice, as kneeling
at the feet of Montague, she looked
up to ask whether she had rightly
adjusted his footstool. Her dress
was negligent; her beauty was fad
ed ; no rose blushed on her cheek ;
no cherry glowed on her lips, no
sparkle irradiated her eye—sickness
and gloom surrounded her figure,
and sorrow and langor mark and eve
ry movement ; yet never, in the sea
son of brightest loveliness, in every
mbellishment of graceful attire—
never, in the midst of festivity and
elegance—never had .shte appeared
so attractive, so respectable: Mr
Knowlesdon felt, in one moment the
full worth of woman.”
A character strongly opposed to
that of Mrs. Egerton, is lady Wrong
head, belonging to the class of fe
males, unhappily too numerous, who
imagine that they are displaying all
th< refinements of sensibility, when
they are In fact only betraying the
workings of egotism. The profound
selfishness of beings of this descrip
tion is striklingly and dramatically
exhibited:
“ The day continued raw and
gloomy. Lady Wronghead, shiver
ing and uneasy, pronounced herself
‘ miserably cold;’ fresh fagots were
piled on the hearth, and another
shawl thrown round her form.—‘pray
Jack, shut the door, it is always left
- pen—James has no sense of feel
ing.’
“‘lie should have, Madam,’ re
plied Jack, ‘ for he has been cooling
himself• these two hours, washing
bottles in an outhouse : he should
have a fellow-feeling for you.’
“ Lady Wronghead was not talk
ing about She rose
to cross the hall; her own maid was
there, holding the house-door par
tially open ; and now asked if Inr
ladyship would please to relieve that
poor negro. ‘He is cold, wet, hun
gry—a stranger, rny lady.’
Bless me, Margaret! where is
your feeling ? Don’t you see how
ihe damp air blows in upon me 7
Hae tibi erunt artes, pacisque imponere raorem, parcere subjectis et debellare superbos.—Virgil.
MILLEDGEYILLE, TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 1326.
Shut the door, pray —Never had
woman such unfeeling servants!’
“ Margaret shewed her feelings,
and shut the door upon the unreliev
ed, cold, wet, hungry stranger, who
mournfully retired ‘to seek a shelter
in a humbler shed ;’ not how ever be
fore Jack had thrown up the dining
room window, and flung a crown in
to his hat.”
We have soon afterwards a spe
cimen of the good humor of this a
miable dame :
“ The dinnej appeared. Lady
Wronghead found some fault in eve
ry dish on the table. “ The soup
was too thick.”
* You thought it too thin yester
day my love.’
“ 1 know that, sir Gabriel ; but
though I don’t like it as thick as
pudding, that is no reason I should
have it as thin as water —there is
reason in all things.”
“ Sir Gabriel knew that well ; and
and he knew also that every general
rule had some exceptions—Lady
Wronghead, for instance, had she
any reason ? But he went on eating
his soup.
“ And that mutton —it is roasted
to a chip!”
“ The Barron looked upon the ex
uding gravy, as he poured half a do
zen spoonfuls on the slice destined
for his better half-—but he risked no
reasoning.”
“Jack carelessly exclaimed, ‘ you
complained sadly of the under-done
haunch last week, Mother.”
“ Well, sir, and is that any reason
why this leg should be burnt to a
cind r ?”
“ Reason again ! The w-ord both
ered sir Gabriel, as ‘feeling’ had in
the morning annoyed his son; and
he drank wine with Miss Patty, the
Letter to gulp it down.”
The following passage is pcculir
ly whimsical and ingenious.
“Lady Wronghead’s senses were
so exquisite, that they were always
tormenting her. Whether this is the
service for which senses are bestow
ed, is a question we leave to the dis
cussion of our sagacious readers—
our present business is with Lady
Wronghead.
“ I have such an unfortunate nose
1 smeil every thing in a moment, and
there is always some disagreeable
scent to offend me ; take away those
flowers, they are too sweet for me.
To be sure, mine is such an unlucky
taste : I can discover the slightest
unpleasant flavuor. How you are
eating those peaches, Sir Gabriel!
they have a something, I know not
what, that makes them very unpal
atable ; at least to my taste. —You
all enjoyed the music last night.
Well, that was so odd to me, for my
ear w r as offended a hundred times.
Jack, your blackbird must be remov
ed ; 1 hear it sometimes, and its
notes do so jar upon my ear.—Oh,
my dear, I am sure that is your un
cle in the park. My sight is so re
markably clear : it is quite a misfor
tune to be so quick-sighted. Indeed
Mr. Twist, chilly as 1 am, 1 cannot
buy a stuff-gown, my touch is so
wretchedly susceptible : I cannot
describe how, but I should have such
a feel every time my hand fell on my
dress.”
One of the ball-room artifices of a
girl in her teeirs is very fairly ex
posed :
“ Susan Knowlesdon, bewildered
with the gaiety of the sc ne, and
with the number of strangers moving
around her, was continually recur
ring to her ui clc for information.
“ My dear sir, who is .that gentle
man ?”
‘ Mr. Knowlesdon mistook the di
rection of her eye—‘ Mr. Barton,
Susan.’
“ And who is that next to him ?”
1 Lord Rochfort.’
“ The mistake was complete—
Susan had first looked at the peer
and last at the commoner. It hap
pened (for odd things will sometimes
happen) that both the gentlemen,
probably attracted by the pointed
gaze of Susan’s bright eye, resolved
to ask h> r had for the ensuing danc
es. The brisk noble was however at
her side much before the tardy Mr.
Barton.
“ Under the impression of her re
cent mistake, this however was a
very unpalpatable arrangement to
the fair belle ; she contrived there
lore, at the moment, dexterously to
avert her head from the supplicant,
and laughing immoderately at what
was best known to herself, to give
the supposed titled laggard time to
approach.
“ However adroitly practice ena
bles young ladies to perform this
manceuver, yet they may be assured
that, ninety-nine times out of a hun
dred the l ick is seen through, and
(the term is rather harsh) despised.
Lord Rochfort, in a moment trans
formed from a gallant admirer, to an
exasperated contemner, turned from
the artful fair, and sought a more
courteous damsel. Mr Barton led
his triumphant partner to the dance.
“ The Solicitor had marked the
whole transaction, and with his usual
incivility, exulted in what he was
pleased to call the defeat of his
niece. At the end of the first dance
as Susan was seated, regailing her
self with the pretty nothings of the
fancied Earl, Mr. .Knowlesdon con
trived to whisper in her ear, ‘ you
have done wisely, Susan, in select
ing a partner nearest your own rank.’
“ Am I not dancing with Lord
Rochfort l” exclaimed the displayed
Susan.
‘ No, child, no,’ responded the ma
licious lawyer ; ‘ you are sitting still
with Mr. Barton ’
“Susan was electrified ; her smiles
vanished, and a pouting lip and a
scorn darting eye met the gaze of
her hitherto enraptured partner. No
longer courting his attention—no
longer drawing her arm through his,
in all the innocent frankness of guilt
less beauty, the grocer’s grandson
(Mr. Barton) began to wonder what
had happened. The second dance
was heavily got through, and Susan
retired frurn the festive throng with
the loss ofiy second admirer.”
From *he N. Y. Observer.
AMERICAN CANALS.
(Continued.)
35 Delaware and Raritan Canal
in Jersey, the main trunk of which
commences in the valley of live Rari
tan, and follows it nearly to the junc
tion of the Millstone and RaritariV
thence near the junction of the Stony
brook with the Millstone ;—thenc
south of Princeton, by Trenton, to
Lemberton, where it enters the Dela
ware.
36. Morris Canal, the chief object
of which is to open a communication
between the city of N. York and the
great beds of coal on the Lehigh
river, the iron works of Morris coun
ty, and the manufactories of Pater
son.
37. Lehigh River Navigation in
Penn. This river, which opens a
passage from the Delaware to the
Lehigh Coal mines, has been made
Navigable by dams and falling locks
for boats drawing less than 18 inches
water, from Easton to the mouth of
Mauch-cbunk creek.
The Schuylkill navigation
company commenced their opera
tions in 1816, and in 1824 they had
made an improved navigation from
Mount Carbon, at the coal mines in
Schuylkill county, to Philadelphia, a
distance of 110 miles, 64 of which
are canal; overcoming a fall of 588
feet, by means of 28 dams and 120
locks, at an expense of $ 1,500,000
only §50.000 were subsbribed by the
state.
39. Union Canal, which commen
ces on the Schuylkill, two miles be
low Reading, and proceeds up the
valley of the Tulpehoen 40 miles, to
the summit level near Lebanon where
it proceeds 5 miles, without a lock,
and then descends the valley of the
Swatara, 33 miles, to the Susque
hanna, near Middletown, a few miles
below Ilarrisburgh. The whole ca
nal will prohebly be finished by the
end of the year 1827.
40. Pennsylvania Canal, which, it
is expected, will ultimately conned
the Union canal with Pittsburgh, and
thus open a navigable communica
tion from the western waters to
the tide waters of the Atlantic,
through the heart of Penn. It has
been determined to commence an
eastern section, extending from the
western termination of the Union
canal to the Juniata, 23 miles, and
the western section oxtending from
Pittsburgh up the valley of the Al
legheny to the mouth of the Kiski
minitas, 30 miles. The lockage on
the eastern section will be 28 feet,
and on the western 44. The esti
mated cost of the two sections is on
ly §300,000.
41. Lancaster Canal. The Con
estoga Navigation company have
engaged Mr. Caleb Hand! to open a
steam boat navigation from Lancas
ter to the Susquehanna river, 18
miles, for §55,240, the work to be
completed by the 4th of July, 1827.
42. Maryland Canal The House
of Delegates have passed a bill ap
propriating § 500,000 for a canal
from Balitmoretothe Potomac, §SOO,
000 for a canal from Baltimore to the
Susquehanna, and §500.000 towards
the proposed Chesapeake and Ohio
canal.
43. Susquehanna river navigation.
—To remedy the obstructions to tin.
navigation of this river, found prin
cipally in the last 50 miles of its
course, between Columbia and tide
water, the people of Maryland, some
years since, construct and the Susque
hanna canal, which extends from tide
water 8 miles up the valley of the
river tothe Maryland and Pennsylva
nia line, and it is now proposed to
continue the improvements to Colum
bia.
44. Delaware and Chesapeak Ca
nal commences on the Delaware, 6
miles beiow New Castie, and runs
thence tothe navigable w aters of the
Chesapeake, in Buck creek, 4 or 5
miles south of French-town. Mr.
Randel, engineer, at whose sugges
tion the directors adopted this route,
states that by expending §2,000,000,
it may be improved so as to admit
the navigation of frigates drawing
20 feet of water.
45. Potomac river Canal, in Virgin
ia, by which five obstructions are
overcome—the Little Falls, round
which is a canal 24 miles long; the
Great Falls, round it is a canal 1 mile
long—Seneca Falls, overcome by a
canal without locks., } of a mile in
length—the Shenandoah Falls, round
which is a canal one mile long—
Iloure’s Falls, round which a canal
has been cut 50 yards long.
46 James river Canals. Thisriver
is navigable for vessels of 125 tons
to Rocket’s, one mile below Rich
mond, where are the principal ob
structions to tin navigation. At that
city there are 12 locks, overcoming
an ascent of 80 feet, and connec
ting the water with the basin on
Shokoe hill. From this basin, a ca
nal, 25 feet wide, proceeds along the
bank of the river 24 miles, and then
enters the stream, the bed of which
is used for three miles further, and
then an ascent of 34 feet is overcome
by t hrec locks.
47 James river and Ohio road Ca
mil. In 1820thcVa. Board of Pub
lic Works, recommended to the Gen
eral Assembly the following as the
practicable method of opening
a communication between the waters
1 I Janie*. river and those of the Ohio.
I. An independent canal from th
basin of Richmond, up the valley of
James ami river, to the
mouth of Dunlaps, creek, 249 mile
J. A good road Iron, the mouth 01
Dunlap’s creek, across Allegheny
mountains, to the Keiminva river,
just below the Great Falls, 9y n) ,|e-.
3. From these Falls to Mount Peas
ant on the Ohio, at the mouth of tx
Kenhawa. Part of the independent
canal at the eastern extremity is
finished.
48. Dismal swamp Canal, which
extends 22£ miles from Deep creek
7 miles above Norfolk, to Joice’s
creek, which discharges itself inti
the Pasquotank. —Vessels drawing 8
teet water may ascend both creeks
to each extremity of the canal. The
canal originated in the concurrent
acts of the Virginia and N Carolina
Legislatures.
49. Roanoke river, in N. Carolina,
is navigable for vessels of 45 tons
to Halifax, 75 miles by land. At the
great Falls, the river descends 100
feet in a distance of 12 miles; but a
canal is now' completed around these
tails to Rock landing, opening the
navigation for th batreaux to the
junction of the Dan and Staunton;
both of which are also rendered navi
gable—the former to Danville, where
a canal round the falls is in progress
50. Cape Fear river is navigable
to Wilmington, 85 miles, by vessels
drawing 10 or 12 feet water; and by
boats to Fayetteville, 90 miles.
51. Yadkin river was surveyed,
in 1818, from Wilke’s C. H. in the
mountains, to Cheraw hill, 6 miles
below the South Carolina boundary
Lne, a distance of 240 miles. The
expense of making it navigable for
boats of ten tons through this dis
tance was estimated at §250,234,
exclusive of the Narrows, where a
turnpike road for 7 milss was recom
mended. Beiow the Cheraw hill,
the river is navigable for large boats
to the ocean, which, by the course
of the stream, is 270 miles, but di
rectly by land only 103 miles.
52. Santee Canal, in South Caroli
na, which was completed in 1802,
commences on the Santee at the
poinkwhere Sumpter, Williamsburgh,
and Charleston districts unite, and
proceeds southeastwardly to Cooper
river. Short canals have been com
pleted round the fall- ol the—
Wateree above Conulen, and the
falls at the mouth of Broad and Salu
da rivers.
53. Ashley and Edisto canal, 12
miles long, was proposed several
years since; but we know not that,
the work has yet been commenced.
54 Canals along the Coast. The
Waccamaw river, which joins tin
Pedee at Georgetown, runs parallel
t the sea coast a distance ot Bor 10
miles, and is navigable for vessels ot
150 tous to the distance ol 80 miles.
It is intended to unite this river by
a canal with Little river, which dis
charges its waters in N. Carolina
within the sea islands. From George
town harbour, a canal, 5 miles long,
lias been cut across the tongue of
land which separat s it from the San
tee.
55. Savannah, Ogeechee, and Al
tarnaha canals. A survey ol a canal
route to connect the Savaonch with
the Ogeechee has been completed.
Messrs. Clinton and Jcnkes ere now
[OH sl4 IF NOT PAID IN SIX MONTHS.
NO. 57....Y0L. I.
exploring the country between the
Ogeechee and Altamaha, with the
view of locating a canal, between
those riyers.
56. Florida Canals. Tw-o routes
Have been proposed for a sloop canal
across the isthmus of the Florida
peninsula. The northern route com
mences on the Atlantic, at the*mouth
of the St. Mary’s, which forms the
boundary between Georgia and Flori
da, and proceeds up that river nearly
to its source, thence, by an indepen
dent canal, 18 miles long, to the Su
waney, and then down that stream to
the Gulf of Mexico. The southern
route commences on the Atlantic at
the mouth of the St. John’s, and
proceeds up it to the mouth of the
Black creek, and after ascending that
creek a short distance, passes by an
independent canal, 12 miles long,
across the couutry to the Santa Fe,
and down this stream and the Su
vvaney to the Gulf o],Mexico.
57. Tennessee Mobile canal,
in Alabama. It is stated, that the
portage between th navigable wa
ters of the Okoa, a branch of the
lliwassee, which unites w ith the Ten
nessee, and the Conasugau, a naviga
ble branch of the Coosa, was measur
ed by a correct mathematician in
1810, and the distance ascertained
to be nine miles 214 yards, across it
a beautiful level country presenting
no obstructions to the formation of a
canal.
58 Carondoiet canal, completed
in 1817, extends from a basin in the
rear of New-Orleang 14 miles by the
bayou St. John, which communicates
with Lake Ponchartrain, thus opening
a sloop navigation.
(To be concluded in our next.)
SEMINOLE INDIANS.
Department of War, }
10th May, 1826. $
To the Delegation of Florida Indians.
Friends and Brothers : I have
considered your request to have
your boundary line extended and
made it known to your Great Fa
ther the President. I am directed
,f> answer, that lie gives his consent
tor yw to occupy the big swamp,
i.util h«Nq.,y i ia ve a call for it, when
he will you to move within
the limits o(Nq e surV ey He sent
you this messagbEy Gov. Duval.
\our Great Patnv Joes not wish
to oppress his red chil6v- n . jj e has
heard of your sufferings, rfb) sent y oll
some help. But he wishes nie
iidorm you, now that you have had
time to plant and gather your cropv
that you must rely for the future on
yourselves, and by your industry pro
vide for your own support.
Brothers : Your Great father has
heard that you have run-away slaves
in your country, find that many of
your people hide them from their
owners. The treaty provides that
you should give them up. It is ex
pected that you will do this; anil
that you will, hereafter, so soon as a
slave runs into , your country, take
him up, and deliver him to the agent
for his rightful owner. It is said
that the whites have some of your
slaves. The figent is directed to see
justice done you, and whenever ho
finds your slaves in possession of the
whites, to demand their surren
der.
Brothers : Now that you re set
tled in your new homes, I have to
call your attention to a few things.
Yonr young men are not always
good. They go intothc settlements
and steal and kill stock, and alarm
the whites, and the women and chil
dren. This must not be. You w ill
therefore, give orders, toyouryouug
men to keep within your limits, and
if they will not obey you, you must
punish them. If you do not, your
Great Father will order his agent to
let a heavy hand fall upon you If
the whites trespass upon you, do not
strike, hut go to the agent —he is di
rected to protect you. You must,
listen to these directions. Your
Great Father will be kind to you, if
you obey his council but if you do
not, you will be punished.
Brothers: Your Great Father ex
pects you to live in peace with one
another, to be industrious and sober.
Druukcnness is a curse and no Indian
ought ever to get drunk. It makes
luma beast and brings him into troub
le. Let alone the mad water and
be sober.
Brothers : The treaty provides a
thousand dollars for the support of
a school at the Agency, This is in
tended to benefit your children. It
1- time it was in operation. It is
there yonr children will lea. 11 to read
and write, and to keep accounts;
and how to make ploughs, and wheels
and looms; and how to use them,
and all other things useful to you.
I our Great Father expects you to
on courage these improvements in
your children. The agent is direc
ted to seek for a teacher, and when
one gees out, he w ill go under the**
protection of j our Great Father