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VOL. L
THE SOUTHERX SENTINEL
Ii puMished every Thanday Evening,
IX COLUMBUS, GA.
By WM. H. CHAMBERS,
EDITOR AND PROFRIETOB.
up stain, Corner of Broad and Randolph its.
Terms of Subscription.
One copy twelve months, in advance. * * * 50
*• •
nun u After the year expires, 400
Antes of Advertising.
‘One square, first insertion, - * * *
“ “ Each subsequent insertion, * - 50
Contracts will be made for advertising by the quarter,
•r by the year, at liberal deductions from the above rates.
All obituary and mxmatg notices must ue accompanied
by a responsible name, and where they exceed one square
they will be charged a* other advertisements.
To CoaBKsruNOENTR.—AII coinniuuicatioiis must be
■addressed post paid) to the Proprietor at this place.
Contributions must be accompanied with the real name
f the writer.
Sturgis *V •flitter^
ATTOSTMUIS AT LAW,
Bneuu Vixla. .Hariou county, a.
V%MLL practice in nl i the counties ot the Chattahoochee
and a.ijamiiu’ counties ol the South Wesiera Circuit.
TIIAD. UTUROIS E. W- 3UUEU.
Feb. Li. 1349 7 ts
SSO Reward.
STOLEN from the resilience of the subscriber, be
tween the Jf7tli December, and the 1-toi Janu
ary, a note on William J. Shields, dated <tii of
March, 1819. and payable one day alter date, to Bos
well ,& Billing, fur eventy-nine dollars. The public is*
cautioned against trading lor the same, as payment
will be stopped.
Also, a de*-d from William J. Shields, to Elizabeth
A. Holley, for City Lot, No. 259. Oglethorpe street :
and other paper-*, ot no value to any other person.
Ten dollars will lie paid for the recovery of the papers
and fifty dollars lor proof to convict the thiet.
ELIZABETH A. (HOLLEY.
Columbus. Jan. 3 1 3t
*SO REWARD.
RUNAWAY from the subscriber, about the 15th
Februarv last, a small mulatto woman, by the
mains of FRANCES, she is about four feet tea or eie
van inches hiirh-speaks quick and lmiffhs loud, with ra
ther a squeaking voice, her now* and mouth project ra
ther inori* than is common for mulattos ; she had rings
in her ears when sli*- lelt, and alwuvs wears something
u her head. I will pay fifty dollars for the apprehen
sion and safe keeping of her so that I can get her. I
will also pay s liberal reward for proof sufficient to con
vict any person of harboring her. as I have reasons to be—
Bore she is concealed bv someone.
S. T- AUSTIN.
Xovemher !. 44tl
J. SMEETON,
JD lH a
“W” ATE of New York, begs respectfully to an-1
B A no'ince lo the citizens ot Columbus and its vi
wiaitv, that he has taken a store on Broad st. opposite
the •• Times Office,” where he intends currying on the
■above businesti.
Persons seeking an unaffected gentlemanly garment,
■will do well to avail themselves of his superior style of
■catting. All orders thankfully received and punctually
attended to. Observe the address,
J. SMEETON. Tailor.
Brond st. oppusita the l imes Office.
October IS, 1349. 42—3n
THOMAS BANN, TAILOrI
’WMTOULD respecfefnflalnfortn the public, that he
w w has removed to frieTorner of Broad and Ran
dolph streets, in the room aver C. Mygitt'a store, one
door above J. diS J. Kyle, and Ji prepared to make gen
tlemen's
COATS* VESTS AND PANTALOONS,
in the latest style and aentest manner.
Gentlrmeu famishing tfaeir own materials, will find it ,
to their advantage to give him a cull.
O* Hi* price* will he moderate, and no effort on his
part shall he wanting to give perfect satisfaction.
CUTTING and REPAIRING done at short notice.
C.dumbos.Nov. 3 lil-fth 49—tt
IMPORTANT
Ts) HILL OWNERS AND PLANTE S.
undersigned will contract for building
JL Rock Dams, or any kin dos rock work and j
ditching, in any par* ol this Ntate or Georgia, in the
most improved manner.
TIMOTHY B. COLLINS,
Fort’ Mitchell, Russell. Cos. Ala.
Doc. fi, 1843 . 43 6m.
ANDERSON & McELIIANY,
FB KSUECTFULLY inform rhe citizen-* f Colo minis
A sod adjacenteouotiv. that they have fitted ati office
over I. t.l. Stiicpkii's store, on Randolph street, where they
are prepared to execute, in rhe best manner, all branch
es ot the profession, according to the latest and most ap
proved discoveries of the art.
fa addition to the above, thev have all the facilities j
for MANUFACTURING TEETH, which must give
them advantages over all others in tie construction of en
tire Dentures, as their teeth are carved in blocks with
gums, which not only gives great e- strength than those
put up singly, but presents a more natural and life-like
appearance.
Specimens of workmanship can be seen by calling at
their office.
.412 Operation* guarantied. Term* very reasonable.
Dr. A. would add, that he has had more than ten year's
•xpcrience in an extensive practice in Philadelphia and
wieioity, and flatters himself with being able to give en
tire satisfaction in every branch o the profession. Re
.csinmendanriis of the highest order can be seen at the
O ffice.
Dec. 6.18-19. 49 3in !
a. c. Mciamrßii
“X X T 'Orjl.r) inform riie citizens of Colnnibne, fhsr he
v v lias discovered anew process, by which be is en
abled to bring the DAGUERREOTY PE to a hitherto i
inconceiveabfe state of perfection, and one altogether
unattainable by any other operator. He wtuild aiso take
this method of respectfully inviting the public to exam
ine the numerous specimens at hm gallery. The atten
tion of the Ladies is particularly solicited to inspect Ins
■tine assort ment of beautiful cases uid medullons. finish
ed in aa entirely new style, and just received from New
York.
Columbus. Dec. 97,
TO PHYSICIANS, DRUGGISTS
AND
COUNTRY MERCHANTS.
DR. J. N. KEELER &. BRO. most respectfully
solicit attention to their fresh stock of English,
French. German and American Drugs. Medicines, Che
micals, Paints, Otis. Dye-suufs. Glassware, Perfumery,
Patent Medicines. Ac. Having opened anew store No. ,
•294 Market-st., with a full supply of Fresh Drags and
Medicines, we respectfully solicit country dealers to exa
mine our stock before purchasing elsewhere, promising
one all who may be disposed u> extend to us their patron
age, to aetl them genuine Drugs and Medicines, on as
liberal terms as any other home ia the city, and to faith
fully execute ail orders entrusted to us prompiiv and with
dispatch. One of the proprietors being a regular physi
cian. affiirds ample guarantee of the genuine quail tv of
ail articles sold at their estamidunent. We especially
invite druggists and country is Ychants. who may wish
to become agents for Dr. Keelqr’s Celebrated Family
Medicines, (standard and popular remedies.) to forward,
their address. Soliciting the pa tronage of dealers, we
respectfully remain,
J. N. KEELER 4t BRO Mfboieaaie Druggists,
Os. 11, 1543. iv Markrt-etTPVtr*.
THE SOUTHERN SENTINEL.
Guardian Angels.
When daylight has departed, and earth is hnshed to rest,
When little birds are folded safe within the parent nest,
When oa the closed flowers the blessed night-dews weep.
And stars look down m beauty upon the slumbering deep—
Unseen bv mortal eves, in the stillness of the night.
There are those who wander o'er the earth in robes of airy
light;
Sweet messengers of love and hope, they journey to and
fro,
And consolation follows in their footsteps as they go.
What are the heart’s presentiments of coming joy or pain.
But gently whispered warnings of that guardian angel
train ?
The of their sympathy, the tokens of their care.
The siuhiugs of their sorrows o’er the woes that flesh must
bear ?
We hear them in our slumbers, and waking fancy deems
That busy thought was wandering in the fairy laud of
dreams ;
But die low sweet tones we listed were strains that angels
sm*g,
For ministering spirits with our souls were communing.
And when morning breaks above us, and we wake to busy
day,
These angels “go before,” to guide and “keep us in our
way; ”
When our feeble footsteps falter, all weary and alone,
In their arms they gently bear us, “lest we dash against a
stone.”
In our jouraeyings, in our restings, on the laud or on the
sen.
In our solitude and sorrow, in our gatherings and glee.
In the day of degradation, in the hour of joy and pride,
Those pure and watchful ministers are ever by our side.
O Thou whom angels worshipped ere time or woe began,
And whose divine compassion gave their guardianship to
man.
Throughout this mortal warfare let them still my champ
ions be,
And iu the last stern conflict “give them charge concerning
me !”
Be Gentle with thy Wife.
Be gentle ! for you little know
How many trials rise ;
Although to thee they may bo small,
To her of giant size.
Be gentle! though perchance that lip
May speak a murmuring tone,
Th*; heart may beat with kindness yet,
And joy to be thine own.
Be gentle ! weary hours of pain
’Tia woman’s lot to bear ;
Then yield her wliat support thou canst,
And ail her sorrows share.
Be gentle ! for the noblest hearts
At times may have some grief,
And even iu a petti si l word
May seek to find relief.
Be gentle ! for nukiiidiu ss now
May rouse an angry storm
That all the after years of life
In vain may strive to calm.
Be gentle ! none are perfect—
Thou’rt dearer far than life ;
Then, husband, bear and suli forbear—
Be gentle to thy wile.
The Fear of Ridicule.
TOLD BY ONE WHO WAS THERE.
One evening, a short time since, live or six |
young men, clerks in one ot onr fashionable !
stores, were congregated together before the
entrance of a noted Oyster Saloon. They j
seemed on the point of entering, when one of
their number fell back, declaring that he would
not go in.
“What’sthe matter, Thompson?” exclaimed
the others, “what’s the matter with you? why
don't you come ?”
“Because l think it wrong,” answered the
young man, “to visit such places; it is against
my pi inciples to do it.”
“A tig for your principles ,” exclaimed one.
“Why I thought better of you. I didn’t sup
pose, when you first came among us, that you
would evince so little real spirit.”
“I did not think you would urge me to visit
such a place as this,” answered Thompson.—
“What would our employers think of us, were
they to see us here now ?”
“Who cares for them ?” said another. “Let
our employers mind their business, and we’ll
mind ours. It is none of their concern how or
where we spend our evenings.”
“I think it is ; and lam not willing to put
rny reputation at stake by being seen iu such a
place.”
“Why, Thompson. [ didn’t think you so
chicken-hearted,” exclaimed the other. “Only
hear him, boys! He's afraid to go in and eat
a lew oysters with us.”
“Ho! ho! ho! a parson, verily, in our
new clerk,” exclaimed the others, laughing
scornfully.
“Won’t you preach us a sermon, sir clergy
man ? Come, I’ll give you a text;” and a dozen
similar squibs ot ridicule were showered upon
him, and Thompson's resolution began to wa
ver.
“Conn’, come, Thompson,” at last said one,
who professed to be his friend, “don’t be a fool.
Here we've invited you to sup with us; and
now it you refuse, I teil you as a friend ‘hat your
popularity will be at an end with us. Your
credit won’t be worth a rush at the store. I can !
tell you. Come along with us, man ; you’ll feel
better lor a frolick now and then.”
The united influence of ridicu e and persua
sion was too much for Thompson’s “princi
ples"—he yielded to the temptation, and enter
ed the Saloon with them. They were soon
seated around a table loaded with a luxuriant
repast. But having gained the lirst point, their
next was to induce him to drink. This \va-*
not so easy. Thompson had been carefully ed
ucated, and he a long time proof against
their solicitations to partake of the wine-cup;
but ridicuie at last prevailed again, and he
yielded as he had done before. The party
b oke up at a late hour, and all ot the young
men were more or le?s affected by the wine.—
Poor Thompson went to his room with feelings
which it would be difficult to describe.
**l could not. bear their ridicule,” he said to
himself, as he laid his aching head upon his
pillow.
Having yielded to his companions in two im
portant instances, through tear of ridicule, he
found it a helpiesstask for him to endeavor to
contend ag inst their continually renewed so
licitations to indulge in dissipation ; and if his
awakened conscience aroused him occasional*
!y to a partial sense of his danger, and he fal
tered at participating in some scene of dissipa
tion more bold than at first, the lash of ridicuie
was applied to him without stint, by his com.
panious. and he would oiler no resistance,
He found it true that the Hue of prudence
unce passed, was hard indeed to turn hack ;
COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, THURSDAY’ EVENING, JANUARY 17, 1850.
and he was hurried along at last, step by step,
in the full career towards the shipwreck of his
lair fame, and his hopes of future peace.
Good principles amount to nothing without
strength of mind and energy to abide by them.
And most surely do the youth find this to be
true, who are in cities exposed to numberless
temptations, and without the protecting influ
ences of home. Be careful, then, young men.
and watch yourselves narrowly, that no im
proper tastes and dispositions take root in your
mind, and lure you from the path of dutv. It is
a safe and pleasant path to pursue, and its end
i* honor and peace ; but once deviated from, it
will be found no easy road to regain.— Ameri
run Union.
Extracts from the valedictory letter of William
Penn, to his wife and children, written on the
! eve of his first visit to Pennsylvania. September,
, 16-82. If the saints write such admirable
love-letters, it would greatly benefit the sinners
—the men of this world—to follow the example,
: and surpass it if they can.
My Dear Wier a:nd CniTfDRRN : My love.
1 which neither sea. nor land, nor death itself
j can extinguish or lessen towards you, most en
dearingly visits you, with eternal embraces,
and will abide wilh you firever. My dear
j wife ! remember thou wast the love of my
youth, and much the joy of my life ; anti the
reason that love was mon* thv inward than thy
Out ward excellencies, which yet were many,
i God knows, and thou knowest it.. I can say it
1 was a match of Providence’s making, ant!
1 God’s image in us both was the first thing
and the most amiable and engaging ornament
in our eyes. Now l am to leave thee, and that
without knowing whether I shall ever see thee
more iu this world. Take my counsel into thy
bosom, and let it dwell with thee, in my stead,
while thou livest.”
Here follows some domestic advice. Penn
then proceeds:
“And now, my dearest, let me recommend to
thy care my dear children, abundantly beloved
•f me. as the Lord's b’e-sings, an l the sweet
pledges of our mutual and endeared affection.
Above all things endeavor to breed them up in
the knowledge and love of virtue, and that holy,
plain way of it which we have lived in, that the
world, in no part of it, get into my family. * *
“For their learning be liberal. Spare no
cost, for by such parsimony all is lost that is
saved ; but let it be useful knowledge, such as
is consistent with truth and godliness, not cher
ishing a vain conversation or idle mind. * * *
I recommend the useful part of mathematics,
Ate., but agriculture is especially in my eyes.
Let my children be husbandmen and house
wives; it is industrious, healthy, honest, and of
good example. * * Be sure to observe their j
genius, and do not cross it as to learning. * *
I choose not they should bo married to earthly,
covetous kindred: and of cities and towns of
concourse beware. The world is apt to stick
close to those who have lived and got wealth
there. A country life and estate [ like for my j
children. I prefer a decent mansion, before
ten thousand pounds in London, or such like
place, in a way of trade.”
He then addresses his children, and finally
his elder boys, in the following admirable strain,
honorable alike to his understanding and his
heart :
“And as for you, who are likely to be con
cerned in the government of Pennsylvania, I
do charge you, before the Lm'd God and hi?
holy angels, that you be lowly, diligent, and
tender, fearing God, loving the people, and ha
ting covetousness. Let jus;ice have it.- impartial
course, and the law tree passage. Though to
your loss, protect no man against it; for you are
not above the law, Hut the law above you. Live,
therefore, the lives yourselves, you would have
the people to live : and then you have a right j
and boldness to punish the transgress n\ Keep i
upon the square, for God sees you ; therefore
do your duty, and be sure you see with your ;
own eyes, and hear with your own ears. Em
tertain no iuchers; cherish no informers lor
gain or revenge ; use no tricks ; ily to no de
vices to support or cover injustice ; but let your
heart be upright before the Lord trusting in
Him above the contrivances of men, and none
shall be able to hurt or supplant.”
The letter from which these few extracts are
made, concludes : “So hue well to rny thrice
dearly beloved wife and children ! Yours, as
God pleaseth, in that which no waters can
quench, no time forget, nor distance wear
away.”
The Odd Fellows The Washington
Globe thus bears testimony to the great in
crease and noble mission of Odd Fellowship :
’•We believe that in the whole history of the
world, there is no instance of any society of
men, unaided by power, wealth or political in
fluence. who have from an humble beginning,
... e o’
risen so rapidly to be both numerous and opu
lent, an the Independent Order of Odd Fellows.
The fact is itself a eaiogium on the ftrder—on
its objects, its conduct, and its adm nistration. 1
The great aim of it is to do good, and the oniv
aim we believe. To comfort the sorrow strick
en, to heal the sick, to leed the hungry, to clothe
the naked, and to relieve the necessitous, are
the cardinal purposes for which Odd Fellow
ship was instituted. So far it has nobly fulfill
ed its mission, and its success has far exceeded
everything that could have been anticipated.
Everywhere the Odd Fellows are erecting no
ble buildings called halls, which are not built
altogether for show, but lor use, and they are
made useful always, we believe. ’
CowroATTOK Asa Asreemest.—ln a lesson in
parsing the sentence, ‘Man courting in capacity of
bliss,’ dtc., tire word ‘courtfhg’ came to a pert
young miss of fourteen to parse. She commenced
hesitatingly, but got along well enongh until she
was to tel! what it agreed with. Here she stopped
short. But as the teacher said—
‘•Very well, what does courting agree with?’
Ellen blushed and held down her bead.
“*Ye-ye-yes. sir!”
“Well, why don't you parse that word—what does
it agree with?’
Blushing still more and stammering, Ellen said—
“lt a-a-agrees with tire girls, sir!’’
We find die following in the Boston Post’s Politi
cal Dictionary :
Washington.—An eminent American states
man. As he died leaving no issue, ail persona
claiming to be “secotid Washingtons” arc manifest
impostors.
Ex-Presidest Tyler.
In a recent agricultural talk before the Leg
islature ot V irginia, Mr. Solou Robinson thus
describes the mode of life of au ex-President of
the United States:
There may be seen upon the left bank of
James river, about sixty miles below Rich
mond, and some two miles Lack from the bank,
a dwelling, which, although with all its at
tachments and offices, shows a front of white
j frames two hundred and seventy feet long, vet,
j in lact, is a very moderate farm-house, upon a
J tract ot some eleven hundred acres, though only
j six hundred acres are in cultivation. And here,
j upon this spot, may be seen as great a show ol
| republican simplicity as the British officer saw
<in Marion's camp. For here lives, in plain and
j simple style, a plain Virginia fanner, engaged
| in improving, by lime and marl, and thorough
plowing, the old fields ; cutting down, anti
■ clearing up, and fencing, and bringing into cul
; tivatiou the forest ; and growing wheat and
j corn for sale.
Ask the captain of the steamer to set you
ashore, and bend your steps towards yonder i
! farm-house. Perchance, on your way you will
meet with a plainly dressed farmer ot about j
sixty, riding about in a little carryall wagon,
drawn by a plain-looking old white horse.— j
He is superintending, personally, the affairs ofj
the farm—giving a direction to a servant here, !
and a word ot encouragement to another there, j
or making some inquiry after the stock or crops
ot some confidential one with whom he holds
; a short consultation. Approach and introduce
yourself without ceremony, and he will invite 1
you cordially to ride home and dine with him,
with as little ceremony as you will ever find
where true hospitality and politeness prevail.
The table will bo graced by a beautiful lady,
(a second wife.) and perchance a most lovely
daughter of some twenty summers, blooming in
mhealth, and so good a countenance as shall
make you almost break the tenth command
ment. There, too, you shall see a couple of I
sweet ‘iti!e boys, that gladden the declining
y r ears of the old farmer.
Stroll out after dinner into the park. Here is
a monument that marks the tomb of some de
parted triend. Read:
“Here lieth rhe hones of my saiths til old horse, Gen
eral, aged twentv-five years, who. in ail his long
service, never blundered but once; would that
his master could say the same.”
Now, who is that master ? He hath not al
ways lived in this humble, though happy home,
so retired from all the bustle of city or political
life. No; in* was once master of another man
sion, widely known as the White House, where
he dwelt as the ruler of twenty millions of peo
ple. and wore the authority of that rank that en- I
titled him to the name and honor of “the proud
est sovereign in the world,” for lie was Presi
dent of the United States. But, by the working
of the beautiful machinery of our glorious repub
lican institutions, this mighty sovereign is again
“one of the people,” but still wearing a proud
and honorable title, for he is now known as
“Farmer John Tyler, of Virginia.”
Anecdote—Faith and Works—On the
frith of Forth was an old ferryman, a man of
much thought and observation, but of few
words ; a constant student of the Bible, and a
firm believer in its truths. Among his patrons
were two loquacious companions, whose busi
ness led them across the river once a week.
One of them was, as he supposed, a high-toned
Calvinist, while the other imagined himself to
be equally well grounded in the tenets of Ann
in ins. Their conversation always turned
upon some doctrinal point. The ferryman
was frequently annoyed by the repetition of
faith on one side, and works on the other, be
cause they were used iu a sense so different
from their real import, and so destructive of their
scriptural harmony.
Ar length the patient old man felt obliged to
interfere. He said nothing, but fell upon the
following expedient. Upon one of his oars he
painted the words Faith ; upon the other
Works. It was not long before the zealous
but friendly disputants applied for a passage
over the Forth. Upon entering the deepest
part of the river, where the swollen water
rushed down with fearful violence, the ferryman
took in “Faith,” and pulled away upon
“Works” with all his might. The boat, went
round and round, much to the annoyance and
terror of the two passengers. “ Put out. the
other oar, 1 ’ said one of them in a loud and
ansjrv tone. “Very well,” was the calm reply
of the old man—at the same time taking in
“Works,” and relying on “Faith” alone.
The experiment with this oar produced the same
result, and drove the witnesses of it to the
conclusion that the ferryman was •‘■out. of his
head.” The old man however continued his
“practical demonstrations” on the water, untii
he thought the friends were prepared to see
two things in connection. Fie then called their
attention to the names of his oars : “I hav^
tried your way.” said he and yours ; and
you have seen the result. Now observe my
way.” And giving a steady hand to each oar,
the little boat soon acknowledged the power of
their harmonious strokes, by the straight and
rapid flight w r hich she took for the landing.
T. R. O.
Railroads.— A Northern paper, speaking on this
subject, says:
At the close of the year 1846 there were 161 4 miles
of railroad in operation in New York, and on the Ist
December, 1849. there were 2183. showing an in
crease in eleven months of 519 By the Ist of
January 1850. there will be about 150 miles more in
operation, which will make the aggregate length
2283 miles, and the otal increase 669 miles. In the
State of New York there has been an increase of a
bout 400 miles. In the Southern and Western States
a great many miles of railroad have been opened
this year, and so far as our recollection at this mo
ment, the total number ot miles of rai Iroad put in op
eration in the United States during the vear 1849
will not be less than 2000. At the close of the vear
1848 it was estimated that there were 6120 miles of
railroad in die United States, to which add the 2000
opened this year, and die aggregate at the close of
1849 will be 8120 miles. In 1849 about 1000 miles
were opened ; it therefore appears that in 1849 dou
ble the number of miles were put in operation, com
pared witli the previous year-
A Hard Hrr.—The Albany Dutchman per
petrates the following hard hit at tobacco chew
ers : “A chemist in New It oik has just inven
ted a substitute tor tobacco. It is made of
guano, and will doubtless soon supersede the
*eed, as it is just as nasty, and a good deal
cheaper.”
A Sight amoas the Wolves.
a narrative.
”Fwas a night of January, IT—. We had
bean to a tine quilting frolic, about two miles
from our settlement of four or five log houses.—
’Tvvas rather late, about 12 o’clock, I should
guess—when the party broke up. There was a
moon—and aduli overhead-sky and a lew pale
and silky stars gave us their dull light as they
shone through the dingy curtain. There were
six of us in company; Henry Mason, and tour
as pretty girls as ever grew up. ‘There were
my two sisters, and Harry’s sister and his sweet
heart, the daughter of our next door neighbor. —
She was a down right handsome girl—that Caro
line Allen. I never saw her equal, though I
am no stranger to pretty faces. She was pleas
ant and kind of heart, so gentle and sweet spo
ken, and so intelligent besides, that every body
loved her. and she had an eye as blue as the hill
violet, and her lips were like a red rose leaf in
June. No wonder, then, that Harry Mason
loved her—boy that he was—for we had neither
of us seen our seventeenth summer.
Our path lay through a thick forest of oak.
with here and there a tall pine raising its dark
full shadow against the sky, with an outline ren- .
dered instinct by the darkness. The snow was
deep—deeper a great deal than it ever fell of j
late years : but the surface “was frozen strong
enough to bear our weight, and we hurried on
over the bright, pathway with rapid steps. We
had not proceeded far before a long, low howl
came to our ears. We all knew it in a mo
ment; and I could feel a shudder thrilling the
arms that were close to my own, and a sudden
cry burst from the lips of ail of us—“the wolves !
—the wolves !”
Dili you ever see a wolf—not one of your
caged, broken down, show animals, which are
exhibited for sixpence a sigh l :. and children halt
price; but a fierce, half starved ranger of the
wintry forest, howling overthe barren snow, ac
tually mad with hunger ! There is not one ot
God’s creatures which has got such a fiendish
look as this animal. It has the form as well as
the spirit of a demon.
Another and another howl; and then we
could distinctly hear the quick patter of the feet
behind us. We all turned right about and look
ed in the direction ot the sounds. “The devils
are alter us,” said Mason, pointing to a line of
dark gliding bodies. And so in fact they were—
a whole troop of them—howling like so many
Indians in a pow-wow. We had no weapons of
any kind ; and we knew enough of the nature of
these vile creatures who followed us, to know
that it would be useless to follow them. There
was not a moment to lose ; the savage beasts
were close upon us. To attempt flight would
have been a hopeless affair. There was but
one chance of escape, and we instantly seized
upon it.
“To the tree ! let us climb this tree !” I
cried, springing forward towards a low houghed
and gnarled oak ; which I saw at a glance cuuid ;
be easily climbed into.
Harry Mason sprang lightly into the tree and
aided in placing the terrified girls in a place of
comparative-security among the thick boughs.—
I was the last ou the ground, and the whole
troop were yelling at my heels before I reached
the rest of the company. There was one mo
ment of hard breathing and wild exclamations
among us and'then a feeling of calm thankful
ness for our escape. The night was cold, and
we soon began to shiver and shake like so ma
ny sailors on the topmast of an Iceland whaler, j
But there were no murmurs—no complaining
among 11s, for we could distinctly see the gaunt,
attenuated bodies of the wolves beneath us, and
every now and then we could see great glowing
eyes staring up at the tree where we were seat
ed. And then their yells—they were loud, long
and devilish.
r know not how long we had remained in this
situation, for we had no means of ascertaining
the time—when 1 heard the limb of the tree
cracking, as if breaking beneath the weight of
some of us ; and in a moment afterwards a
shriek went through my ears like the piercing
of a knife. A light form went down through
the naked branches, and fell with a dull and
heavy sound upon the stiff snow.
‘•Oh, God ! lam gone ! r ’
It was the voice of Caroline Allen. The poor
girl never spoke again ! There was a horrid diz
ziness and confusion in my brain, and I spoke
not- and £ stirred not, for the whole of that
time was like an ugly, unreal dream. I only re.
membered that there were smothered groans
and dreadful howls underneath ! It was all
over in a moment. Poor Caroline ! She was
literally eaten alive. The wolves had a fright
ful least, and they became raving mad at the
taste of blood.
When I came to myself—when the horrible
dream went off—and it lasted but a moment —
l struggled to shake off the arms ol my sister,
which were clinging around me, and could I
have clearod myself I shouid have jumped down
among the raving animals. But when a second
thought came over me, any attempt to rescue
would he useless. As for poor Mason, he was
wild with horror. He had tried to follow Caro
line when she fell, but he could not shake off the
grasp of his terrified sister. liis youth and his
weak constitution and frame, were unable to
withstand the dreadful trial ; and he stood close
by my side with his hands firmly clenched, and
his teeth set closely, gazing down on the wrang
ling creatures below, with the fixed stare of a
maniac. It was indeed a terrible scene. Around
was the thick, cold night—and below the raven
ous wild beasts were lapping their bloody jaws,
and howling for another victim.
The morning broke at last, and our frightful
enemies fled at the first advance of daylight, like
so many cowardly murderers. We waited until
the sun had risen before we ventured to crawl
from our hiding place. W e were chilled through
—every limb was numb and cold with terror—
and po,r Mason was delirious and raged wildly
about the things he had witnessed.
We had not gone but a little distance when
we were met by our friends from the settlements,
who had become alarmed at our absence. They
were shocked at our wild and frightful appear
ance. They assisted us to reach home ; but
Harry Mason never recovered from this dreadful
trial. He neglected his business, his suidies,
and his friends, anon murmuring to himseit
about that horrible night. He fell to drinking
soon after, and died a miserable drunkard beibre
age had whitened bis head.
For my part I confess I have never recovered
fiom the terrors of the melancholy circumstance
which I have endeavored to describe. Ihe
thought of it has haunted me like a shadow ;
and even new, the whole scene comes at times
freshly before me in my diearns, and I start up
with something of the same feeling and terror
which I experienced when, more than a half a
century ago, T pa*od a night among tfc* welxc?.’
“Happy Home.”—A young man meets a
pretry face in the ball-room, falls in love with it,
courts it. “marries, goes to housekeeping with
it, and boasts of having a home logo to, and a
wife. The chances are nine to ten he has
neither. Her pretty face gets to be an old sto
rJ““*or becomes taded, or freckled, or fretted
—and, as that face was all he wanted, all he
pard attention to v ” all he sat up with, all he
oargained for, all he swore to “love, hotter, and
protect, he gets sick of his trade ; knows a
dozen faces he likes better ; gives up staying
at home evenings ; consoles himself with ci
gars and oysters, whiskey punch, and politics,
and looks upon his home as a very indifferent
boarding house. A family of children grow up
about him; but neither he nor hijs fair “face”
knows anything about teaching them ; so they
come up helter skelter—-made toys of when
babies, dolls when boys and girls, drudges when
men and women ; anti so passes year after
year, and not one quiet, happy, homely hour
is known throughout the whole household. An
other young man becomes enamored of a “for
tune.” He waits upon it to pat ties, dances the
Polka with it,exchanges billet-doux with it,pops
the question to it, gets “yea” from it, is pub
lished to it. goes to the parson's with it, call*
it “wife,” carries it home, sets up an estab
lishment with it, introduces it to his friends,
and says (poor fellow!) that he, too, is married,
and has a home. It's false. He is not married,
he has got no home ; and he soon finds it out.
He’s in the wrong box ; but it’s too late to get
out of it ; he might as well hope to escape from
j his coffin. Friends congratulate him, and ha
: lias to grin and bear it. ‘They praise the
house, the furniture, the cradle, the new Bi ile,
the newer baby ; and then bid the “fortune”
and him who “husbands” it good morning!
As if he had known a good morning since he
and that gilded “fortune”‘were declared to be
one. Take another case. A young woman
is smitten with a pair of whiskers. Curled
hair never before had such charms. She sets
her cap tor them ; they take. The delighted
whiskers make an offer, first one and then the
other, profit*!ing themselves both in exchange
tor one heart. ‘The dear Miss is overcome
with magnanimity, closes the bargain, carries
home her prize, shows it to her pa and ma,
calls herself engaged to it, thinks there was
never such a pair (of whi.-kers) before, and in a
few weeks they are married. Married! Yes.
the vvorln calls them so a.id we will. What is
the result? A short honey moon, and then the
unlucky discovery that they are as unlike as
chalk and new cheese, and not to be made one
though ail the priests in Christendom pronounc
ed them so.— Mercury.
A Case of Supposition.
A Texan whit was returning home after tho
battle of Buena Vista, having got separated from
his companions and had his horse stolen by the
Indians, was obliged to take it afoot. Walking
along leisurely one Sunday morning, with his
rifle on his shouider, looking out for game to
make a breakfast upon, without knowing whal
day of the week it was. he suddenly caine to a
small stream on the coniines of Texas, not know
ing that he had as yet reached the border of his
native State. Perceiving that the stream abound
ed in fish, he took a hook and line from his pocket,
and procuring some worms for bait, he sat down
patiently on the Lank, wrapped in a brown study,
thinking of his little tana at home, when a
preacher who was on a circuit rode suddenly up
and thus accosted him :
“Hallo, stranger ! what are you doing there ?”
“Fishing for my breakfast,” replied the im
port urable Texan, without deigning to look
around at his interrogator.
“Well, do you know you ate violating tho
Sabbath ?” said the preacher, in a drawling,
psalm-singing tone.
“No,” said the Texan, turning around and
looking up at the preacher for the first time with,
an air of surprise, which the preacher took for
consternation, “I must be somewhar near the
white settlements, then ?”
“Yes. you are, replied the preacher, ‘and vi
olating the Lord’s Day. for which you will have
to answer hereafter on the great day of Judg
ment.”
‘The Texan looked up with a supolicating
air and the preacher thinking his penitent mood
a good time to make hun a convert, continued :
••Do you know, my young friend, that you
are sitting on the verge of the broad stream of
iniquity, and without you leave here and turn
into the home paths of virtue, that you will be
lost? Where do you think you would goto
now,” said the preacher, warming with his
own eloquence, “supposing the angel Gabriel
was to blow his horn ?”
The ‘Texan coolly hauled in his line, and,
fronting the preacher, said :
“You ask me whar I think I would go to if
the angel Gabriel should blow his horn ?” -
“Yes,” replied the preacher.
“Well, you see. wharever thar is an if the
case admits of an argument—now yp are
supposin', ain’t you? Well, you
know what a bee gum is ? Maybe you’ve heart*
tell of these big black bar hereabouts, and
maybe you've seen Inijns ? Well, now, suppos
in’ you was after a bee gum, and one of these
big black bar was after you, and a smart chance
of red skins were after the bar. Now, what
would you do—keep the tree from the bar, gine
the bar agin to tbe Injins, gine the Injinsagiu
the bar, or grease and slope ?”— Pic.
A Fact.—The ready wit of a true-born
Irishman, however humble, is exceeded only by
his gallantry. A few days since, says an ex
change paper, we observed a case in point,
A sudden gu.-t of’wiud took a parasol from the
hand of its owner, and before one had a chance
to recollect whether it would be his etiquette
to catch the-parasol of a lady, to whom he had
never been introduced, a lively Emeralder
dropped his hod of bricks, caught the parachute
in the midst of its E Isler gyra'ion. and presen
ted it to the icser, with a low bow, w hich re
minded us of poor Power. “Faith, madam,"’
said he as h<- did so, “if you were as strong as
y<u are handsome, it wo ildn’t have got away
from yu.” “Which shall l thank you for fir.-t,
the service or the compliment 7” asked the
lady smilingly. “Troth, madam,” said
again touching the place where once stood*
brim of what was a beaver, “that look of your
beaufiiul eye thanked me for both. ” — Liverpool
Mercury,
NO. 3.