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5*3 istcllanr dug.
P ti
?3 0 C t V v.
A PRAYER FOR DEAR PAPA.
£Y MISS EM ICY JCDSON.
The fo!low ing inexpressibly touching lines were
written by tiiis excellent lady, in April, 1-30, afterthe
departure of Mr. Judson from Maulmain, on the
voyage from which he never returned:
Poor and needy little children.
Saviour. God. we come lo Thee,
For our hearts are full of sorrow,
And no other hope have we.
Out upon the restless ocean.
There is one we dearly love—
Fold lum in thine arms of pity,
Spread Thy guardian wings above.
When the winds are howling round him,
When the angry waves are high.
When black, heavy, midnight shadows,
On his trackless pathway lie,
Guide and guard him, blessed Saviour,
Bid the hurrying tempest stay;
Plant thy foot upon its waters.
Send thy smiles to light his way.
When he lies all pule and suftermg.
Stretched upon his narrow bed.
With no loving face bent o'er him,
No soft hand upon his head;
Oh. let kind and pittyihg angels
Their bright forms around him bow;
Let them kiss his heavy eyelids.
Let them fan his fevered brow.
Poor and needy little children,
Still we raise our erv to thee;
We have nestled in his bosom.
We have sported on his knee;
Dearly, dearly do we love him—
Wc. who on his breast have lain;
Pity now our desolation!
Bring him back to us again.
If it please Thee, heavenly father,
We would see him come once more.
With Ins olden steps of vigor.
With the lovelil smile he wore;
Rut if we must tread life’s valley.
Orphaned, guideless, and alone,
Let us lose not, ’mid the. shadows.
His dear foot prints to Thy Throne.
V a r i c t n,
Byron on Editors'—Lord Byron said that i
with “all his follies, he never was guilty of
stopping, his paper or preventing the pay
ment. of an editor’s hill, because the editor
happened to displease him.”
We know some gentlemen, so little mind
ed and small souled, that they resort to the
most pitiful expedients—expedients that
high minded or honorable men would be
ashamed to stoop to, to iujure editors, who,
as Byron says, “happen lo displease them;”
such men are little better than old women
in unmentionables.—New Orleanian.
Strange Exhibition.—The Paris corres
pondent of the New-Yotk Herald speaks
of a curious exhibition lately made in the
giddy French metropolis, which consisted
of several magnificent coffins, ordered by
the Neuro King of the western shores of
Africa. One of them is destined for the
King Dahomey, and will cost 20,000 francs.
One of the peculiarities of this coffin is,
that on two sides of the place for the head,
tiiere are two liquor cases with three glass
es and decanters. A mattress of red satin
is laid itisido, and the outside of this odd
coffin i s covered with ornaments of carved
wood and bronze. The whole is secured
on four lions made ol metal.
Amongst the thousands of curious ideas
manufacturing for the great exhibition of
1*51, there is one which, however ingeni
ous it may he in principle, will, probably,
he found rather rough in practice. The in
ventor, a Paris mechanic, calls it un lit a
levilleo matin,” or, plain Lnglish. a bed
which awakens the sleeper at any fixed
hour at which he may wish to rise. By the
adoption of a simple contrivance to clock
ik, the bed is made to incline forward,
California Correspondence of tbe N.-O. True Della.
LETTER FROM RAMBLER.
Sutter, California, Feb. 14. 1851.
You may, or may not, have beard of tills
city. But I defer description for the pres
ent, arid return to Coiorr.a and the old roan
mate. 1 finished my business at that town,
and came away convinced that the jieopJe
were just as smart there as elsewhere, and
loved money as well as other people. I re-
j turned to Sacramento, taking Salmon Falls
I oti the American rivet it: my way. i visit-
! ed this place through curiosity; I had never
I heatd any description of the falls, and I had
j pictured to my mind, a Montmorenci or a
I miniature Niagara. But I was wrong. The
falls are what an East Tennessean would
j call a shoal. I can’t imagine why tbe place
was called “falls” when there are so many
I other places in the country equally deset v-
j ing the name. There is a considerable
} town just above the falls, but what its ptm-
) illation may be I am unable to say, as it is
| as difficult to count miners, as a gang of
j voting pigs.
I was in Sacramento city a few davs
! since. The place was improving to i he de
light of evety body, especially the mules
| and animals that had to draw heavy bur-
j dens in the streets. Lake So peri or in fimit
of the gambling houses was diained, and
Dismal Swamp just above, filled up. The .
energy of man and mules, areisted very t
| much by dry weather, accomplished these *
j great results. j
Speaking of dry weather, I am reminded J
of Col. Fremont. The election for {J. S.
Senator, will come off in a few days, and he j
stands a good chance to get the votes of
; those who ato pledged to support him. If
| it had been a disagreeable, rainy winter as
j the last was, the Colonel would have a slim
i show, for he had represented the climate of
j his country as heavenly, .and no one last
j winter would have voted for any gentleman
1 who would daresay that California was not
the most disagreeable climate or earth. So
j much does the success of human beings <
j sometimes depend on wind and rain! Last !
i winter every miner from Scott’s riv- ,
er to the Mai iposa, cursed the Colonel for
: the greatest liar in the world, tiow they sny j
j ‘Fremont told the truth.* For the sake of :
: giving infor mation to the wot Id, I should I
j like to look into futurity three days ahead.!
The election will take place on the 18th, 1
: and Mr. King, or Col. Fremont on that day ;
! will he chosen to represent in the Senate; j
i the interest of those who—are going home !
j as soon as their ‘piles’ shall have been made
i The 17th will he a serious day to both these
! gentlemen. Ari eminent physician had an
j interview with each of them yesterday, and J
i found the pulse so fluttering that he could
\ not decide, hut Mi. King’s heat a hundred I
j and forty-eight times to the minute.
The people in the meantime are ignore [
antly unconcerned about the success of eith- j
er gentleman, and they are not thinking a- i
j bout politics, hut of the head waters of the 1
Klamath and its tributaries. The whole I
I country is concerned about the new- mining j
country in the north. Thousands are on |
j the way thither by land and water.
The ferry at Sacramento city is doing a ;
California business. The tide of emigra- i
lion carries evety thing before it, especially i
every stray mule it comes across. Mules j
have risen in the market, and would be
higher still, if any man was sure of riot buy- j
ing a stolen animal. But lie cannot he, and j
1 say it again with both hands over tearful |
1 eyes, that there are more horse thieves in
California, than any country tinder the sun. !
If Van Dieman’s Land and Australia were i
horse countries, they scarce could equal !
this -
The Gold Bluff lie gave the first impetus j
‘ to the emigration. As soon as the world j
. found out the gold wrns not there, the rich j
deposits were located by the fancies of the j
humbuggers a little furthe- off, hut within j
convenient distance of the ‘bluff.’ Gold has j
: been f Kind on the Klamath and its tributa- j
ties, and may to a great extent benefit the !
shrewd founders of the furnishing cities on
the coast; but they will not have “tuikey”
on their side altogether. The Sacramento
valley is not contented with the ‘Buzzard,’
hut claims a share of the decent fowl.
Already Marysville is bragging of a brisk
business, and Sacramento city furnishes
supplies which if sold by merchants at
Gold Bluff, or Klamath city, would make
the sellers thrice as rich as they aie.
I regret to see so many accounts of ex
traordinary digging recorded in the news
papers, without the counterpart of failures.
We have been a considerable time digging
now, and certainly if jjold is found in such
ought not to he
town to the highlands, which are nearer
here than for several miles above.
If we desire sport, we walk into the out
skirts of town and shoot a cayote ; if a
mental treat, we converse with the author
of one of the earliest works on California.
This gentleman long before the discovery
of gold called the attention of the world to
this “arthly paradise.” and he was gratified
that the discovery of tile precious metal
made them obey the call. At this romantic
spot he stuck his stake, founded a city, (as
did Col. Jos. Grant) and called it after the
brave old Swiss. The hordes of specula-
| thought the same, and Jack, for his extraor- j
i dinary nerve and courage, gnt a remission j
of his punishment. For some lime, at lea&t, j
he took cere how he got into such a situa- !
tionas to expose himself to the chance of I
passing another night with such a bed
fellow - .
ROMANCE AND TRAGEDY. j
j Many of our raaders will remember a i
. -seties of articles entitled “Three weeks on i
j a cotton plantation,” which appeared in the t
j Republican a twelve month since or more.
In one
f those articles, the romantic his
tors, merchants and mechanics, composed - tory t ,f t h e planter, whose hospitalities the
tiie first immigration flocked to tiiis city
like foxes to a trap. Succeeding immigra
tions followed the example of the first, and
Sutter became what she is now—the rival
of Nicolaus, Linda, Plumas and Qio.
To Mitchell the Geographer, I would
say—Sutter is a city on the Sacramento
river, thrpe miles below Sacramento city; !
it contains three or four inhabitants, and a j
half dozen houses. To N. P. Willis, or !
some other poet, I would say that tiiis is a
romantic spot to those who love not gold;
that rats go forth nightly upon the levee
in the bright moonbeams to make love to
the rats that come down from rhe Sacra
mento city, and that they woo and scratch
one another. RAMBLER.
wor...
and the sleeper is thrown on his feet; his ! astonishing quantities we ought not to he
character for punctuality in his matinai ens j surprised. The newspapers must be “poorly
lality
insuied
gagement being
breaking his nose.”
.4 Lucky Borrower.—The Winchester In
dependent (Tennessee) says: “A man came
into our office the other day to beg a news
paper,‘because,’ said he, ‘we are very fond
of reading the papers, but our neighbors
don’t take none now.’ We gave him half a
dozen to distribute among his neighbors,
and a picayune to buy a ginger cake, and
the delighted fellow went on hts way re-
juicing."
White rats are noticed by the Baltimore
Sun, as having been found on a farm in that
county. The white rat has a soft and downy
fur, much finer than that of the ordinary rat
-1 Printer on 7ns True Is.—T he editor of
the Galena Advertiser, says: that Edward
Breath, (orrneriy a partner of nis, is now
priming a paper in Persia! Where sha.l
" e hear of him next]
A Yankee has just invented a suspender j
that so contracts on your approach to water,
1 uat the moment you come to a puddle, it
lifts you over, and drops you on the oppo
site side. They will be of valuable service
to a fellow when he gets light, to lift him
0111 of the slop tub.
the risk of off" foe incidents, o> the finding of a lump of
] gold, a rare occurrence. The latter is ttue,
and our friends at home if they are wise,
i will shake their heads whenever they read
of miraculous digging, and think that it does
not augur well for California.
Provisions have got down to a reasonable
| price, and miners may begin to hope they
lean live without eating scurvy food confirm-
I ally. Clothing is rtlso cheap, hut it is in the
I hands of the Jews. Boots-have been sold
I in Sacramento city, cheaper than they were
I in the New England States, whence they
came.
The farmers continue to prepare for a
crop. Were it not frosts, and chilly nights,
notinn<r would now hinder plants from
growing. I hear of some vegetables, such
as green peas being nearly large enough
for use, hut I have not actually eaten any.
Gold causes almost any vegetable to re
main green during at least tw - eive months.
Small cans containing any garden dainty at
airily pr ices may be had at many provision
stores. Even the‘roast beef of Old Eng
land’has been shipped from Liverpool to
this market. Cincinnati hams and China
etrw3 meet in the same mouth, as well as
tridney potatoes and Yankee cod-fish.
But in closing, I must not forget Sutter-
Among the curiosities of the World’s the city of my present abode.
Whereunto
Kair, wilt be n pond of ice punch. Its com- j s l )a ll lliken it. I know of no city which
P'Uierit parts are to consist ofa river of bran- ! could furnish a faint resemblance, ex
parts are
• an iceberg fiorn Greenland, two hills of
•’"gar, and an orchard of lemons. It is to be
s, 'rred up with the North Pole, and ladled
" u ’ with the dredging machine. — Albany
Dutchman.
Such as thy words are, such will thy af-
ec tions be esteemed; and such will be thy
'^eds as thy affections, and such thy life as
% deeds.—Socrates.
except
some old mildewed, dilapidated town on
the bank of the Mississippi which sprung
into existence tti the glorious days of Van
Buren, and Brandon money. 1 think there
must be three inhabitants in the place, be
sides one, who cuts wood out in the swamp.
Whether this latter camps in the suburbs
with his oxen, or sleeps on a bench in the
I have not yet determined. The
ity would have
ace had it not
grocery,
A friend travelling in Florida, says of the ! levee buil t by Sacramento c.
•usqtiiioes: “Let a man 30 to sleep with enclosed t ie \\ m e o P
i,ls head in a cast iron kettle, and their bills j been so large As tt is. that
^ake a watering pot of it befoie morning.” ' merit runs right t toug e m
ENCOUNTER WITH A SERPENT.
In the vicinity of the barracks assigned
to the European soldiers in India, there is
usually a number of little solitary cells
where the disorderly members of the corps
are confined for longer or shorter terms, by
order of the commanding officer. In one
of these at Madras, on a certain occasion,
was locked up poor Jack Hall, a Scotch
man, belonging to Edinburgh or Leith.—
Jack had got intoxicated, and being found
in that condition at tlie hour of drill, was
sentenced to eight days solitary confine
ment. Soldiers in India have their bedding
partly furnished by the honorable company,
and find the remainder for themselves.—
About this part of the house furnishing,
however, Hall troubled himself very little,
being one of those hardy, reckless beings
on whom privation and suffering seem to
make no impression. A bard floor was as
good as a down bed to Jack, and there
fore, as he never scrupled to sell vvhat he
got, it may be supposed that his sleeping
furniture was none of the most abundant or
select. Such as it was, lie was stretched
upon ami under it one night in liis cell, dur
ing his term of penance, and was reflecting
on the impropriety of in future “putting an
enemy into his moutli to steal away his
brains,” when lo! he thought he heard a
rustling in the cel) close by him. At this
moment he recollected that he had not, as
lie ought to have done, stopped up an air
hole wiiich entered the ceil on a level with
the floor, and also with a rock externally on
wiiich the building was placed. A strong
suspicion of what had happened, or what
was about to happen, came over Hall’s
mind, but lie knew it was probably too late
to do any good, even if he could find the
hole in the daikness, and get it closed.—
He therefore lay still, and in a minute or
two heard another close to him, which was
followed by the cold slimy touch of a snake
upon his hare feel! Who, in such a situa
tion. would not have started and cried for
help. Jack did neither. lie lay stone
still, and held his peace, knowing that his
cries would most urobably be unheard by
the distant guard. Hail his bed-clothes
been more plentiful, lie might have endeav
ored to protect himself !>v wrapping them
closely around him, hut this their scanti
ness forbade. Accordingly, being aware
that, although a motion or a touch will pro
voke snakes to bite, they will not generally
do it without such excitement, Jack held
himself as still as if he had been a log.—
Meanwhile, his horrible bedfellow, which
he at once felt to he of great size, crept o-
ver his feet, legs and body, and lastly over
his face. Nothing out the most astonishing
firmness of nerve, and the consciousness
that the movivg of a muscle would have
signed his death warrant, could have ena
bled the poor fellow to undergo this dread
ful trial. For a whole hour did the reptile
crawl backwards and forwards over Jack’s
body and face, as if satisfying itself seem-
ingly, that it had nothing to fear from tiie
recumbent object on its own part. At
length it took up a position somewhere
about his head, and went to rest in appar
ent security. The poor soldier’s trial, how
ever, was not yet over. Till daylight he re
mained in the same posture, flat on his back,
without dating to move a limb, fir fear of dis
turbing his dangerous companion. Never,
■perhaps, was dawn so anxiously looked filt
hy mortal mail. When it did come, Jack
look cautiously about him, arose noiselessly
and moved over to a corner of his cell,
where there lay a pretty large stone. Tiiis
he seized and looked for the intruder. Not i
seeing the snake, he became assured that it
was under his pillow. He raised the end :
of this just sufficiently to get a peep at the
creature’s crest. Jack then placed his knee |
firmly on his pillow, but allowed the snake
to wriggle his head, which lie battered to [
pieces w ith the stone. This done, the |
courageous fellow for the first time breath- ;
ed freely. When t ;e hour for breakfast
came, Jack who tnought little about the |
matter after it was fairly over, took the op*
port unity of opening the door to throw the |
snake out. When the officer, whose duty |
it was to visit the ceils for the day, was
goipg the rounds, he perceived a crowd a-
round the celt door, examining the reptile
which was described by tiie natives as of
the most venomous character, its bite being
invariably and rapidly mort; 1. The officer,
on being told that it was killed by a man in
Lhe adjoining cell, went and inquired into
the matter.
‘When did you first know that there was
a snake in the cell with you?’ said he.
‘About nine o’clock l^st night, sir,’was
Jack’s reply.
‘Why didn’t you call tiie guard?’asked
the officer.
‘I tli lught the guard would na hear me,
and I feared I might tramp on’t; so I just
lay still.”
‘But you might have been hit; did you
know that you would have died instantly?’
‘1 keni teat vera well;’ said Hall, ‘but
they say that snakes winna meddle with
you, if ye dinna meddle with them; sae I
just let it go as it likel.’
‘Well, my lad, I believe you did what
was best after all, but it was what not one
man in a thousand could have done.’
When the story was told, and the snake
shown to thr> commanding officer, he
writer so gratefully recalled, was briefly !
given. He landed at Natchez a boy. He :
had cotne down the Ohio and Mississippi j
on a flat boat, with his father, and his fath- ;
er’s partner. There his father died, and i
was buried, and there tiie boy was left by ’
the heartless partner, wiihouta picayune, i
Naturally shrewd, he soon picked up busi- i
ness, sold tickets for the theatre, did er- I
( rands, peddled knick-knacks, &c., until he j
I grew up to be a proper size for larger op- ]
erations. He then became owner of a )
dray, then a number of drays, then of ne- j
gmes who drove them, then of a small i
plantation, near Natchez, then of an im- j
mensely large plantation at Miliken’s Bend, .
above Vicksburg. Here he went into spec- ■
ulations, and before the crash of ’37 sup- j
posed himself to be worth a quarter of a j
million. j
Hitherto his fortunes had waxed. He was i
independent. He then, for tiie first time, !
returned lo Cincinnati, and sought out his
mother and sisters, whom he left behind
long years before. He found his family,
who supposed him dead, in poverty, and
provided for them, and then came the re- j
verses. Tiie wife of his youth had borne
him three beautiful chihhen. These one |
after another, died, and then the wife was j
laid in the grave. An interval elapsed of!
pecuniary prosperity, hut of intense grief, j
when he was blessed with the hand of one .
• •f the most beautiful and lovely of woman
kind. Then came the financial crash, hut '
though suffering severely, his energy par- |
lied in some degree the force of the I
blow, and he was enabled to retain and add {
to his beautiful plantation.
Years passed on, and another family of j
beautiful children had grown up around !
him, to whom and whose beautiful mother ]
he was attached by almost fanatical idolatry. ;
Two years ago last August, his home was I
the abode of plenty and the largest hospi
tality. Immediately afterwards his favorite
child sickened and died. A month or two j
after this, iiis honse was burned. A few
weeks more, and a long pending law suit,
originating in his efforts to retain his pro
perty and pay off his debts, was decided
against him, and his plantation was put un
der the hammer of the auctioneer, and the
broken spirited man moved to Vicksburg.
Here, another child died. With the rem
nant of his large possessions he purchased
the beautiful steamer Mohawk, and run
her in the Vicksburg and New Oileans
trade, acting as the Captain himself. A
few days ago, the following despatch was
received by tiie Northern papers;
Louisville, Dec. 17.—-Capt. Cobb, of the
steamer Mohawk, blew out his brains yes
terday at Vicksburg—cause, pecuniary
troubles, and the death of wife.
Another dispatch from Nashville, of the
same date, stated that morning, the steamer
Mohawk sunk with 2,500 hales of cotton
on lioaid, while lying at that city! Two
fioor, weeping, terror-stricken children are
all that remain of the whole family. What
dream of fiction ever equalled a tragedy
like this? — Springfield (Mass) Republican.
A SKETCH IN REAL LIFE.
Some twenty odd years ago there dwelt
| in Cincinnati two little boys whose fathers
j house adjoined each other. These two
hoys were considered bright, likely child
ren, and so much did their dispositions har
monize, that they were almost inseparable
companions—they played together, they
: read together (for they were both fond of
reading) and it was the opinion of all lhe
neighbors, that they would make great men,
such was their steadiness and attention to
their books, and their uniform good beha
vior. But as these two hoys begati to grow
up, the neighbors saw the difference that is
manifested in children’s nature simply by
the example and precepts to he derived
from their parents. One of these boys was
theson of steady Quaker parents, who went
to great pains to instil into their child the
great advantages to he derived from a
steady attention to study, and to healthy
advice. The other’s parents were indiffer
ent people with but little education, and
consequently had hut little conception of its
vast benefits. The one boy grew to man
hood with the advantages of education; the
other with but very little. The one knew
and profitted by the advantages of good so
ciety. The other — being allowed to follow
the immature impulses of youth, got to wan
dering about of nights, and of course fell
into the company of young men of the worst
habits and character.
Time passed on, and these young men
had passed their legal age by half a dozen
years. The son of the Quaker parents is
one of the first editors of this country. He
is considered the ablest writer in the State
in which he lives—he has received a high
literary degree from one of the first Uni
versities in the country, and is now i ngaged
—at tiie request of the first Botanist of the
age, t > write for his new work upon tiiis j
Science, the Botany of the West. This;
man is the editor of the Davenport (Iowa) j
Gazette.
The other young man was hung last Fri-I
day for murder. • J
What a lesson is taught us in the history i
of these two boys. The one who suffered :
the most ignominious of deaths, possessed i
as fine an intellect as the other, hut the ;
great cuntrast in their fates lay solely in the |
manuer in which they were brought up. j
We knew Howard Slaugher well. A
blighter or more amiable boy never lived, j again—to graduate their expense to the
but had raising stalled him on an evil way,! condition of their circumstances.
THE DEAF WlY r ES.
The incident we are about to relate oc
curred some years since, in the Granite
State, and as we abide beyond striking dis
tance of the parties and their immediate
friends, we shall he a little more free in nut
description of the circumstances than we
otherwise should he.
Nathaniel Ela, or "Uncle Nat,” as he was
generally called, was the corpulent, rubi
cund and jolly old landlord of the best ho
tel in the fiouiishing village of Dover, at
the head of the Piscataqua, and was exces
sively fond of a hit of fun withal. He was
also the owner of a large farm in New
Durham, about twenty miles distant, the
overseer of w hich was one Caleb Ricker,
or “Boss Kale,” as termed by tbe numerous
hands under his control, and sufficiently
waggish for all practical purposes of fun
and frolic. Caleb, like a wise and prudent
man, had a wife; and so had "Uncle Nat,”
who w<as accustomed to visit his farm every
month or two, to see how matters went.
On the occasion of one of these visits, the
following dialogue occurred between Uncle
Nat and Mist ress Ricker.
“Mr. Ela,” said the good lady,“why have
you never brought Mrs - Ela out to see the
farm, and to pay us a visit—I dare sav she
would he pleased to spend a day or two
with us, and I would endeavor to render
her stay as pleasant and comfortable as pos
sible.”
“Why,to tell you the truth, Mrs. Ricker,”
said Uncle Nat, “1 have been thinking
about it; for some time, but thgn she is so
very deaf as lo render conversation wiih
her extremely difficult—in fact, it requires
the greatest effortto make her hear anything
that is said to her; and siie is consequent
ly very reluctant lo mingle in the society
of strangers.”
“Never mind that,”- replied the impor
tunate Mrs. Ricker, “I have a good strong
voice, and if anybody can make her hear,
I can.”
“If you think so, and will risk it,” said
Uncle Nat, ‘she shall accompany me on
my next visit lo the farm; and tiiis having
been agreed on, Uncle Nat left for the field
to acquaint Boss Kale with what had pass
ed, and with the plan of future operations,
touching the promised visit of his wife.
It was finally settled between the wicked
wags that tiie fact that their wives could
both hear as well as any body, should be
kept a profound secret, until disclosed by
a personal interview of tiie ladies them
selves.
The next time Uncle Nat was about to
“visit tiie farm,” he suggested to his wife
that a ride into the country would be of ser
vice to her; that Mrs. Ricker, who had
never seen her, was very anxious to receive
a visit from her, and proposed that she
should accompany him on that occasion,
isbe readily consented, and they were soon
on their journey. They had not, l.owevei.
proceeded far, when Uncle Nat observed
to her that he was sorry to inform her that
Mrs. Ricker was extremely deaf, and she
would he under the necessity of elevating
her voice to the highest pitch, in order to
converse with her. Mrs. Ela regretted the
misfortune, hut thought, as she had a pretty
strong voice, she would be able to make her
friend hear her. In a few hours after. Un
cle Nat and his lady drove up to the door
of his country mansion, and Boss Ricker,
who had been previously informed of the
time of Uncle Nat’s intended arrival, was
already in waiting to enjoy the fun that was
to come of a meeting of the Deaf Wives!
Mrs. Rieker, not expecting them at that
time, happened to he engaged with her do
mestic duties in tiie kitchen; hut, observing
her visitors through the window, she flew to
the glass to adjust her cap and put herself
in the best trim to receive them, that the
moment would allow - . In the meantime,
Boss Kale had ushered Uncle Nat and his
lady into the parlor, by way of the front
door, soon after which, Mrs. R. appeared in
the presence of her guests.
“Mrs. Ricker, I will make you acquain
ted with Mrs. Ela,” roared Uncle Nat, in a
voice of thunder.
“How do you do, madam,” screamed
Mrs. Ricker to Ela, with her mouth close to
the ear of the latter.
“Very well, I thank you,” replied Mrs E.,
in a tone of corresponding elevation.
“How did you leave your family?” con
tinued Mrs R., in a voice quite up to the
pitch of her first effort.
“All very w’ell, 1 lhank you—how’s your
family?” returned Mrs. E., in a key which
called into requisition all the power of her
lungs.
In the meantime, Uncle Nat and Boss
Kale, who w'ere convulsed beyond the pow
er of endurance, had quietly stolen out of
the door, and remained under tiie window,
listening to tiie boisterous conversation of
their deaf wives, which was continued on
the same elevated letter of the staff for
some time, when Mrs. R., in the same
ledger-line key she had observed from the
fiist, thus addressed her lady guest;
"What on earth are you hallooing to me
for—I a’nt deaf?”
“A’nt you, indeed ?” said Mrs. E., “but
pray what are you hallooing to me for—I’m
sure I’m not deaf?”
Each, then, came gradually down to her ;
ordinary key, when a hurst of laughter j
from Unde Nat and Boss Kale, at the win
dow, revealed tiie whole trick, and even the
ladies themselves were compelled to join in
the merriment they had afforded the out
siders, by the ludicrous character of their
interview.
[ Washington (Pa.) Commonwealth.
great element of success is, however, yet
to be mentioned. He must learn to say
No! It is the most difficult word in the
English language to pronounce firmlyr a*^
at proper time and piace ; but still, who
ever would pursue a successful course in ■
life, must learn above all other things, reiig- i
ion exeepttJ, when, how, wheie, and in !
what manner it is best to say, No!
Whenever he is tempted to exceed his I
appropriate sphere of action — whenever he |
is tempted by the importunities of his fam- I
ily, cr his own raising ambition, to live be
yond the actual and certain profits of his
regular business, at the risk of failing in his i
duty to his creditors—in short, whenever i
he feels he is about to do a doubtful, or a
foolish thing, let him learn to say “No!” j
From the Chambers Tribune.
SHIFTING THE RESPONSIBILITY. !
A HARD SHELL STORY.
While attending Court, recently, in the
adjoining county of Randolph, a fiiend who ;
is fund of jokes of all sorts, and who re
lates them almost as humorously as “His
Honor,” gave us the following, vouching
for the substantial, sublunar existence of
the parties and their present residence in
■‘the county aforesaid;”
Brethren Crump and Noel were both
members of the Primitive Baptist Church,
and both clever, honest men, who paid
their taxes and debts as the same accurred,
with a regularity at once Christian and
commendable. If, when settling day came
round, Brother Noel was “short,” Brother
Crump was sure to he in funds, and on the
other hand, it seemed almost providential
how, if Brother Crump fell “behind,”
Brother Noel always had a surplus. Thus
borrowing from and lending to each other,
worshipping at the same church, and living
only a mile apart, an intimacy gradually
ripened between them; so that at last they
did not hesitale to-speak in the freest and
most familiar manner to each other, even
in regard to their respective foibles.
Now, it came to pass, that Brother
Crump, during the liveliest period of the
cotton season, drove into Wetumpka and
disposed of his ‘crap’ of ten bales, at the
very fair price of 12 1-2 cents per pound.
It was more than he expected, and as the
woiId was easy with him, he determined to
invest a portion of the proceeds of the sale
of his cotton, in a barrel of western whis
key: paying therefore, at the rate of, pre
cisely, two pounds of middling cotton, for
one gallon of “ditto” whiskey.
Of course it was “norated in the settle
ment” that old man Crump had bought a
whole barrel, and after a few weeks people
began to observe that his nose grew redder
and his eye more moist. The idea that
Brother Crump was “drinking too much”
diffused in the neighborhood, until, as
one might say, it became epidemical.—
People talked and talked—more especially
“what few” of other denominations of the
Christians dwelt thereabouts.
Brother Noel was ‘sore troubled’ at the I
scandal which circulated about his brother i
and friend, and especially regretted the in- |
jury it brought to “’ciety” at Sharon. So j
one morning, he stepped over to Brother ;
Crump’s and found the old man in a half-
doze in his little porch.
‘Won’t you take a dram?’ asked Brother I
Crump, as soon as he was aware of the pres- j
ence of his neighbor.
‘Why, yes, I’m not agin a dram whet) a
body wants it.’
Brother Crnmp got his bottle, and the
friends took a dram apiece.
‘Don’t you think, brother Noel,’ said
Crump, ‘that sperits is a blessin.’
‘Y-e-s!’ responded Noel, ‘sperits is a
blessin,’ but accordin’ to my notion, its a
blessin’ that some of us abuses.’
‘Well now, brother Noel, who do you
think abuses the blessin']’
‘Well, its hard to say—but people talk
—don’t you think you drink too much broth
er Crump?’
‘Its hard to say—its hard to say: return
ed Crump. ‘Sometimes I’ve thought I teas
a drinkin’ too much—then agin, I’d think
may be not. What is man? A weak wur- j
turn of the dust! What the Lord saith,
that shall be done!’ So I left it to the Lord
to say whether I was going too fur in sper-
its. I put the whole ‘sponsibility on him ; 1
I- prayed to him, ef 1 was drinkin’ too i
much,, to take away my appetite for sperits.’
Here Brother Noel groaned piously, and
asked—‘What then. Brother Crutup?’
•And’—replied Crump—I’ve prayed that
prayer three times, and he haint done it!
So I’m clear of the ’sponsibility, any-way.’
‘The Lord’s will be done!’ ejaculated No- )
el, and after taking another dram, he went
home, thinking all the way home, how clev
erly Brother Crump had shifted the respon
sibility.
'Now, Leroy Jenkins, an’t you assbuned
of yourself, you nasty hound pup, and I am,
just now now going lo give you your bitters,
you infernal mean reptile you-’
In the meantime 1 leaned a little for
ward to catch a glimpse of his antagonist,
hut though the coast was comparatively
clear, I could see no human face, save that
of the speaker, and I was now very sure
that he did not mean the horse, for he took
an opposite direction. I had small time,
however, for reflection, for his speech wax
ed warmer, he stepped a little foiward, and
aimed a sort of a back-handed blow, which
descended with a keen sound and consider
able force on—his own back.
‘There you infernal devil, take that, and
that, and that, {shrow throw, the switch de
scended.) ThoVtiur meanness. Le.
toy Jenkins. Now, sir what are you go
ing to tell your wife when you get home, .
about the money you got for her eggs snd
huckleberries, you mean pup? You.
spent it fur liquor did you? There, take
that sir. [shrotr, shrow, shrow,.) She told
you, Leroy Jenkins, to buy her a looking-
glass and ^enough calico to make her a.
chicken bonnet and where are they, you
darned cuss, you? Gone for liquor, are
they? [shrow, shrow, shrow,) well I don’t
care if it does hurt, serves you right, Le
roy Jenkins, for making a beast of your
self, and fooling your poor wife, you mean
whelp you. You know, sir, when you left
home she said you could’nt pass Simmon’s
without spending all that money. You
know she did, don’t you? Now, sir take
that, [shrow, shrow,) and did'nt you prom
ise her you would’nt go jiear Simmons;
and you would be sure to buy her a nice
glass and the prettiest kind of calico for her
bonnet] Did’nt you now you eursed mean
dog you? Yes, sir, you know you did,
(shrow, shrow, shrow, and the hickory
descended with frightful keenness) and
Leroy Jenkins, what made you such a fool
as to go by Simmon,s at all when you saw
Tom VY’alker standing iti the door ready to
treat you, and drink up all your money?—
What made you do that, you rotten her-
ring you? [shrow, shrow, shrow,) Well,
sir, I’ll pay all this, [shrow, shrow,) You’ll
go to town, and spend your wife’s money
for whiskey again will you?’ (and tbe blows
were now perpetrated with more frequency
than bis words.)
Although almost dying with suppressed
laughter, I watched the infliction of this
self acting punishment, which was bestow
ed with far more zeal than were thousands
of stripes whereby Sancho was to disen
chant the laJy love of his master. At
length Leroy Jeukins stopped either
through pure exhaustion or because he
thought the delinquency was sufficiently
punished.
Throwing away the switch, which by
this time was a little frayed at the end, he
resumed his coat and his speech:
‘Now Leroy Jenkins, now, sir, you’ve
got licked, too, this time, and the very next
time you do this trick, I’ll just fairly take
the hide off of you. You hear that don’t
you, and now go home sir, and beg her
pardon, you mean cuss you/
I slipped away unperceived by this jus
tice dealing culprit, but I never think of
this scene without an irresistible desire to
laugh. And even now, I can always make
my wife smile by telling her, ‘I’ll go into
the woods, my dear, and as a punishment
for having vexed you, fin; a while I’ll play
Leroy Jenkins.—New T. Spirit of the
Times.
THE WORLD OWES EVERY MAN A
LIVING.
Is a profound lie, cunningly masked in
the guise of truth; and if acted upon in
the mariner that reckless and desperate
men define it, would break through all
those checks and guides by which the
grains of honest industry are now protect
ed, and society open to incessant attacks
from all those who are too idle to work, too
proud to beg, and too “.high-spiri'tcd”—false
and alcohol, finished it. His last words on
the gallows were these: “Beware of liquor,
for it has brought me to this!” Boys, read
this, and remember.—Memphis Express.
The love of a cross woman, they say, is
stronger than the love of any other female
individual you can start. Like vinegar the
affections of a high strung woman never
spoil. It is the sweet wines that become
acidulated, not tbe sour wines.
“Strive (honestly) and Thrive” is the true
i maxim. Let any man work resolutely,
i tasking all his energies to attain perfection
| in the particular business, or profession, to
i which he may have devoted himself. Let
him be just in his dealings—strictly correct
in his personal deportment—courteous in
his manners—and liberal within the com
pass of such means as he can really call his
own, and the world will certainly yield him
j tbe living be has faithfully eained. One
\
LEROY JENKINS.
While riding not long since, in the old
county of St—ff— d, in Va., and passing
along a rarely frequented road. I heard a
noise that at once arrested my attention.—
It was a soliloquy in a very loud key, and
interlarded with an occasional oath to
prove that the colloquist was in earnest.—
Guiding my horse in the direction, I saw a
fellow about half coined, delibeiately cut
ting a long hickory switch, and talking to
himself at the same rime, with great earn
estness. I thought at first that lie inten
ded to whip his horse, that stood tied hard
by, and I was about turning off, when a
new set of phrases in bis self talk arrested
me at on ;e, and made me the witness of the
following scene:
“Well now, Leroy Jenkins, I expect
you’ll catch goss in a little while. It
won’t be long first, before Leroy Jenkins
hide, gets painted some. I’ll pay you,
Leroy Jenkins, for all this, you trifling cuss
you.’
Being in some doubt whether Leroy
Jenkins was the name of his horse, or some
expected combatant, whose preparations,
of a character similar to those I have men
tioned, were quietly progressing a short
distance off, I determined to wait the issue
of those fierce threats, and throwing my
leg over my saddle, I prepared to become
a calm spectator of the fight, and perhaps
an umpire when one party or the other one
got enough.
My friend of the hickory, as soon as he
had cut and trimmed his switch, and satis
fied himself ofits elasticity and unbroken
strength, laid it down on the ground, talk
ing all the time in a very truculent manner
of Leroy Jenkins. Deliberately taking off
his coat, and laying it oil a log, he took up
his flail, and the first I beard of his succee
ding soliloloquy was about as follows;
From Mrs. Ellet’s women of tho Revolution.
GEORGIA WOMEN.
Mrs. Spslding:—A tribute is due to the
fortitude of those who suffered when tbe
war swept with violence over Georgia.—
After Col. Campbell took possession of
Savannah, in 177S, the whole country was
overrun with irregular marauders, wilder
and more ruthless than the Cossacks of the
Don. As many of the inhabitants as could
retire from the storm did, awaiting a
happier time to renew the struggle. One
of these who had sought refuge in Florida
was Mr. Spaulding, whose establishments
were on the river St. John’s. He had the
whole Indian trade, from the Altamaha to
the Apalachicola. His property, with his
pursuits, was destroyed by the war; yet
his heart was ever with his countrymen, and
the home he had prepared for his wife was
the refuge of every American prisoner in
Florida. The first Assembly that met in
Savannah recalled him and restored his
lands; but could not give him back bis
business nor secure the debts due; while
his British creditors with their demands
for their accumulated interest, pressed up
on the remnant of his fortune. Under
these adverse circumstances, and distressed
on account of the losses of her father and
brothers, who had taken arms in the Amer
ican cause, Mrs. Spaulding performed her
arduous duties with a true woman’s fidelity
and tenderness. She followed her hus
band with her child when flight became
necessary; and twice during the war tra
versed the two hundred miles between
Savannah and St. John’s River in an open
boat, with only black servants on board,
when the whole country was a desert,
without a house to shelter her and her in
fant son. The first of these occasions was
when she visited her father and brothers
while prisoners in Savannah, the second,
when in 17S2, she went to congratulate her
brothers and uncle on their victory. This
lady was the daughter of Colonel William
McIntosh, and the niece of General La-
chian McIntosh. Major Spaulding, of
Georgia is her son.
‘Mrs. Spaulding’s health was seriously
impaired by the anxieties endured during
the struggle, and many years afterwards it
was deemed necessary for her to try the
climate of Europe. In January, 1800, she
with her son and his wife, left Savannah
in a British ship of twenty guns, with fifty
men, built in all to resemble a sloop of war
without the appearance of a cargo. When
they had been out about fifteen days the
captain sent one morning, at daylight, to
request the presence of two of his gentle
men passengers on deck. A large ship,
painted black and showing twelve guns on
a side, was seen to windward, running 9
across their course. She was. obviously a
French privateer. The captain announced
that there ivas no hope of outsailing her
should their course be altered; nor would
there be hope in a conflict, as those ships
usually carried one hundred and fifty men.
Yet he judged that if no effort was made to
shun the privateer the appearance of his
ship might deter from an attack- The
gentleman were of the same opinion. Mr.
Spaulding, heart sick at thought of the peri
lous situation of his wife and mother and
unwilling to trust himself with an interview
till the crisis was over, requested the cap
tain to go below and make what prepara
tion he could for their security.
After a few minutes absence, ihe captai -
returned to describe a most touching sees
Mrs.Spaulding had placed her daughter-i
law and the other inmates of the cabin fo
safety, in two state-rooms, filling the berths mL
with cots and bedding from the outer cabin.
She bad then taken her own station beside
