Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

ROME, GA., THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 24, 1851. ii ■ ... i ' —- THE ROME COURIER W PUBLISHED EVERY tfHUR8DAY MORNING BY A. M. EDDliEMAHi Two Dollars per ami'ilti, II paid *R odvanet { Two Dollars and Fifty Cent* If paid within six tnonths •, ot Thtoo Dollars at tho ond of the year. Bales o.t AdvortlalsiB* Lkqal Adveiitiskmenct will he Inanted with atrlot attention to tho requirements or the law, a Mie following retosi Four Months Notice, - Notice to Debtors and C red tors, .•Sale ol Personal Property, by Exoca tors, Administrators, 4ca. tSatee of Land or Negroes, 00 days per square, iLottorsof Citation, - - Notleo for Loiters of Dismission, •Candidates announcing their names, will he (Charged $5 01), whloh will bo required In advance. Husbands advertising their wives, will be charged s$S 00, wliioh must always bo paid in advance. A 11 other advertisements will ho Insorted at One ©oiler por square, of twelve Incs or loss, for the Hirst, and Fifty Conts, for caoh subsequent Insor- tl ©Ibeml deductions will be made In favor ofthoso Who ativoWlso Iry tho year. ROME COURIER. B. W. ROSS, DENTIST. Rome, Georgia Office over N. J. OmbcrgU Clothing Store. January 16,1851. FANOIS M. ALLEN, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL Dealer in Staple and Fancy DRY GOODS AND G ROC DRIES. Receives new goods every week. *©j) Rome, Ge., January 3, 1851. LIN & BRANTLY. WARE-HOUSE, COMMISSION'S PRODUCE MERCHANTS, Atlanta, Ga. {^Liberal advances made on any nrticle in Store. , Nov. 38,1850. O A. D. K3.1G A CO. C OTTO VGtN MANUFACTURE VS i _Rauw '' 1 Abl XINDEB A TRAMMELL. ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Nov. 28, 1850. ROME, OA. f ly. IIOMAS HAS OSMAN. H ClUSI.M 9. IIAUILToN. Samiltii.ka iiadkman, "FiictoiM & IJoiii.niddiu.'i Mercliants, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA OcL 3, 1550, I 12m tCIlARIKK W HAMILTON THOMAS aIAUDKII N H41IDK5UN & llAMILTO.Xi Warehouse & Commission Merchants, MA CON, GEORGIA. Oct 0, l»50. ' 1 I *m. PATTONt PATTON, TTO RN Et S AT LAW. Rome, Gem nut. WILL Practice in all the Counties of tl.e Chero 3 Circuit 48 Sept. 6, 1850. k. X. tJkTTON. J.T. PATTON. W. P. WILKINS. ATTOR.NEY AT LA W, Rome, Georgia. I Km It TO Hon. n f. ponTEn, cifAitLESTON, a. o., or AT OAVK SPHINPt oa. Hon W.H.t)NnRRWOOI>, UOMK. OA. Hull. WILLIAM B'lZAItD, DECATUR, OA. I July IS, 1850. 41 ty O. W. It K ALL, DRAPER AND TAILOR, Broad Slreel Rome, Ga. October 10, 1850. ' J. II. DK KEIISOIV, DRUGGIST—ROME. GEORGIA. WUOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALK11 IN "DRUGS, MEDICINES, PAINTS, OILS, DYE STUFFS, PERFUMERY, &o. October 10, 1850. Broad Stmt. . COULTER & COLLIER^ ATTORN EYS AT LAW, Rome, Georgia. ‘eb. 13,1651. CHOICE’S HOTEL, ROME, GEORGIA. MRS. MARY CHOICE IFormorly of Dnhloncgn, has when charge of tho pdW HOTEL, nnd mndo extensive preparations E -Athe comfort and convenience of those who may her with a call. From her long experience, Hifldantly hopes to give entire satisfaction to ontVisitors and Permanent Boarders, itember 5, 1860. 4S lv>m ►. Persons will be carried to and from |)epot to the Hotel, free of charge. EXCHANGE HOTEL, Rome, Georgia, ty JAMES S. GRIFFIN, FORMERLY OF AUGUSTA. AVING sold out my entire interest hi ihc EX CHANGE HOTEL in this place to Mr. James [irriN.Itake pleasure in lecomniending the Cor ns and trie travelling public generally, to m their patronage, ns 1 feel confident lhat the If the Hands of Mr. Griflill will be well kept ort,not turpessedby any House in the City. A. E. REEVES. *c. 26,1850. BWIiOiU J.W.lj. UNDERWOOD. WILL PRACT ICE LAW Counties of the Cherokee Circuit, (cx #)- They will both peraonelly attend all % H. UNDERWOOD \vill attend and Habersham counties of the , ,'r'h will attend tho sessions ol'lhe blrueted to tben. Co?lvl | Iu , ln j Gainesville— „ will he promptly ond Hooper ifc•«; eft 1 Ploew Itchell, "Buena fBfcnij - *• ynt on pro„ c one or l,olh 1 • -ofessionsl ■ Freshets.—On Monday night of last week, and fora day or two previously, very heavy rains fell In this vicinity and through out the State. The water courses have been very, high, and cons'daritble damage have been done to the fences and the cultivated fields in the river low grounds. There has also been considerable Iobs of stock, groat destruction of mill-dams, bridge), &c. In this city considerable damage was done in the brick yards, and in one of them a ne gro was drowned in attempting to secure some lumber. A few miles above this city a young man by the name of VVimbisVand a negro were drowned, by the upsetting of a bateau on the river. The Ocmulgee has not been so high since the celebrated “ Harrison freshet”of 1840, nnd wanted two feet only of being equal to that, and five feet of a fresh et in 1827, according to the “high-water marks” of the “oldest inhabitant.”—Macon Jour. & Mess. Secession of South Carolina.—The Washington correspondent of the Journnl of Commerce says, should South Carolina sn- cede to-morrow, the movement would be in no way noticed by the U. S'ntes Govern ment, except the withdrawal of the Uni ted States military force from Fort Moultrie, and harbors of Charleston, Beaufort, and St. Helena, to collect the revenue. The State of things will then be this:—The United States Mail will he taken from Wilmington, N. C., to Savannah. The Banks of South Carolina will suspend, because tho creditors cannot pay them. The cotton crops will he sent at great expense to Savannah. Houses in Charleston will become of little value— lor her trade will cease The slaves wjfl liecome them; (he very state of things that John Randolph predicted Taxes were double fur 1851; hut for the next yeur, they must become destructive of all business and prop erty; and the State can neithei borrow nor pay. The South Carolina revolution cannot tie sustained beyond one crop. Business in California.—A correspon dent of the Journal of Commerce, writing from San Frnncisco under dnte of March 4th, says: “Business lieie is growing more nnd mo:e slack, and the quantity of goods duily arriv ing and forced at auction is truly immense.— On Monday last, at Jno. Middleton’s public sale of boots, clothing, &c. the company, whicli was large, assembled at 10 o’clock in the morning, and did not adjourn till dark Some five hundred lots of goods were sold, which, on the nvernge, did not realize freight and charges, although the quality and con dition of tho goods were unexceptionable.— I notice to-day in the papers that in one ves sel, from Baltimore, the ship “A. M. Law rence,” the agent advertises 2,267 packages to ten different consignees, to be sold to pay freight and charges, and this is n sample of almost every ship load lhat arrives.' 1 From Mexico- The Mexican Congress was still in session on the 10th of March. At that time it is reported to have been the general impression in the city of Mexico lhat the Senator would not approve the Tehuantepec treaty, as they feared it might prove another 'loxns. Gen Arista and his Ministers, however, were highly in favor of it. There are but slight hopes thnt Congress would make nny reduction in the tnrifi, or re move the prohibition on coarse cotton fa brics. The Boston Journnl, speaking of the chnngo of public sentiment in Boston, says : “There are 1 thousands in the community ‘ who were dissatisfied with the speech and ‘ position of Mr. Webster in March last, 1 who now recognise to the fullest extent the ‘ wisdom of his course. Tho film of preju- ‘ dice and passon has been removed, and 1 they now recur with a shudder to the dan- ‘ geis.’iom which t'.e country has been already ‘ delivered.” M. Lamartine hns presented to tho Na tional Assembly of France a petition from Wm Tell Poussin, formerly Minister of the Republic in the United States, praying the Government to grant a block of granite taken fiom the quarries of Cherbourg for the mon- itmcnt to Gen. Washington, now in the course of construction in this city. Robbery and Murder.—The Paulding f Miss.J Clarion gives the following facts. Recently a planter of Greene county (Miss.,) went to Florida—seduced the wife of a res pectable planter, and persuaded her to elope with him, carrying offanegio, gun, carriage, horses, etc, Three friends of the injured party followed him to his home aud arrested him after a desperate resistance. One of the captors alone sought to carry him back, but hp wqs subsequently found murdered, the seducer, {» man named Hardy, " ~ - ileti SHfsctUotuouo. A Skater Chased by a Wolf. A fearful incident in Amorican country life is vividly sketched in “Evenings at Donald son’s Manor.” In the winter of 1844, the relator sallied forth one evening, to skate on the Kenneboe, Maine, by moonlight, and having nscended that river nearly two miles, turned into a little stream to explore its course. Fir and hemlock of a century’s growth (he says) met overhead, and formed an arch way radiant witli frostwork. All wns dark within; but 1 was young nnd fearless, nnd, as I peered into an unbtuken forest, that reared itself on the borders 6f the stream, I laughed with very joyousness; my wild hurrah rang through the silent woods, end I stood listen ing to the echo thnt reverberated again nnd again, until ail wns hushed. Suddenly a sound arose it seemed to- me to come from beneath the ice; it sounded low and tremu lous at first, until it ended in one wild yell. I was appalled. Never before hod such a sound met my ears. I thought it more than mortal; so fierce, and amidst such an unbro ken solitude, it seemed as though a fiend had blown a blast from an infernal trumpet. Presently I heard the twigs on shore crack as though from the tread of some brute ani mal, ana the blood rushed hack to my fore head with a bound that made my skin burn, and I felt relieved that I had to contend with things earthly, and not of spiritual nature— my energies returned, and I looked around me for some means of escape. As I turned my head to the shore, I could see two dark objects dashing through the underhush at a pace nearly doable in speed to my own. By this rapidity, and the short yells which they occasionally gave, I knew et once that there were the much dreaded grey wolf. I had never met with thoso animals, hut, from the description given of them, 1 had very little pleasure in making their acquain tance. Their untamable fierceness, ana the unerring strength, which seem part of their nature , render them objects of dread -Shtedtrafc, head, and dashed mad ly 'lorward. Nature turned me towards home. The light flakes of snow spun from the iron of my skates, and 1 wns some dis tance from my pursuers when their fierce howl told me I was still their fugitive. 1 did not look back; I did not feel afraid, or sorry, or glad; one thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, of their tears if they never should see me again, and then every energy of body and mind was exerted for escape, i was pefectly at home on the ice. Many were the days that I had spent on my good skates, never th ! nking that, at one time, they would be my only means of snfety. Every half minute, an alternate yelp from my ferocious followers made me only too certain that they were in close pur suit. Nearer and nearer they came; I heard their feet nattering on the ice nearer still, until I could feel their breath and henr their sniffling scent. Every nerve and u.uscle in my frame was stretched tu the utmost exien- sion. The trees alnrg the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light, and my brain turned with iny own breathless speed, yet still they seemed to hiss forth their breath with a sound tru y horrible, when an invol untary motion on my part turned me out ot my course The wolves, close behind, una ble to stop, and as unable to turn on the ice, slipped nnd fell, still going far ahead; their tongues lolling out, their white tusks glaring from their bloody month, their dark, shaggy brensts were fleeced with foam, and, as they passed me, their eyes glared, nnd they howl ed with fury. The 'nought flashed on my mind that hy this means I could avoid them, viz: by turning aside whenever they came too near; for they, hy tho formation of their feet, are unable to run on ice except in a straight line. At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my sanguinary antagonist came so near that they threw the white foam over my dress as they sprang to seize me, nnd their teeth clashed together like the spring of a fox-trnp. Had my skates failed for one instant, had 1 tripped on a slick, or caught my foot in a fissure in the ice, the story that I am now telling would never have been told. 1 thought all the chances over; 1 knew where they would first take hold of me if I fell; 1 thought how long it would be before I died, and then there would be a search for the body thut would alrendy have its tomb; for, oh! how fast ma i’s mind traces out all thu dread colors of death’s picture, only '.hose who have been the giim original can tell. But I soon came opposi'e the house, nnd my hounds—1 knew their deep voices—rous ed hy the noise, bayed furiously trom the'r kennels. I heard their chains rattle, how 1 wished they would break them I and then I should have protectors that would he. peers to the fiercest denizens of the forest. The wolves, taking the hint conveyed by the dogs, stopped in their mad career, and, after a moment’s consideration, turned and fled. 1 watched them until their dusky forms dis appeared over a neighboring hill. Then, taking ofl my skates, wended my way to the house, with feelings which may be better imagined than discrihed. But even yet I never see a broad shoe! of ice in the moon shine without thinking of that snuffling breath, nnd those fearful things thnt followed me so closely down the frozen Kennebee. As an appropriate appendix to the above, we will quote the subjoined perilous inci dents in the life of the late Bishop Bascom, which occurred when, in early life, his “cir cuit” embraced the wild and unsettled fron tiers of Virginia, Kentucky, and Ohio:— He was once followed several miles by a large panther, which threatened at every bound to spring upon him, and from which he was rescued hy reaching the cabin of a settler. At another time, he had gone some' distance from the house of a friend, where he was stopping, into the forest, where he was lying quietly perusing q hook, apd un conscious of all danger, under 'the! broad spreading branches of a tree, wbenj£heard it— ! —“ m ™* aii — till he fired. Quickly glancing his eye in the direction whence tho voice proceeded, he saw his friend, with his rifle elovated, and S ointing towards thebranches of tho tree un- er v htch he was lying. Perfectly familiar with backwoods life, Dr. Bascom knew that some dreadful danger was hovering over him, and with the least preceptible motion oi the body, he instantly turned hie gaze upward, when he saw on a-!imb of the tree, not more thnn twenty feet above him, a majestic pan ther, whisking his tail, and just ready to leap upon him. Thia was a fearful moment! What nerve it required to retain his self-po- sission, nnd thus save his life! for the leust motion on the part of Dr. Bascom, would have hastened the spring of the panther, and sealed his fate forever I And in that fearful moment, when death seemed inevitable! with a self control and courage truly won derful, he lay perfectly quiet, till the keen crack of the rifle was henrd, and the fero cious beast pierced by the unerring aim ot the back-woodsman, fell lifeless hy his side. [From the Yankee Blade,] A Phrenologist Exposed. BV LEONADE. A few years since, when the science of phrenology was all the talk, one of these bumpological adventurers, blessed with a tol erable sprinklin’ of phrenological information and tho bump ofpresumption “mounted high.” perambulated the country, making fools ofthe people. (I don’t wish any one to infer from what I am going to say, that I befieve there is nothing in (he science, by no means.,) Some, however, were uol to be duped so easy, and as ho was going to hold forth in a small village in a certain county of the old Keystone Stato, they determined <0 find out whether he did judge from appearances more than anything else, The evening came, and a motley crowd of belles and Benedicts had assembled in a room with boxes, skulls, &c., scattered around, for the purpose of being edified by 4h»:“—«"i“nna «.hat great discover ies lie would mako by examining mult hnada, which lie generally did after the lecture was over, gratis. Whether he possessed the power of a mngneliser or not, 1 can’t say, but the fact is, by the time he was done lecturing, some were nodding, somo snoring, some with their bends back nnd mouths wide open, and others inking a “lean” on the hacks of the benches. But when the examination came on, “all hands and the cook,” weie wide awnke. The first subject wns a little boy, and the phrenologist wont through e whole rigmarole of ’nesses corresponding to the boy’s appear ance. “Now,” said the learned phrenologist, “I want an older person, as the organs of those young people ore hardly prominent enough to tell correctly." After a few minutes, an oldish looking Quaker, with a broad brim, shad-belled coat; and tights, with buckles on his shoes, stepped up and took his seat.—' To all appearances he was as harmless an old Quaker as ever said “thee.” The phrenologist took off his hat and commenced fumbling abnut his head: “The organ of prrceptiveneai,” said lie, “is small. The reflective organ is large.— This man likes to have a place for every thing and everything in its place. Is it not so ?” “Yes,” replied a hearer. “Yes,” said another, “1 thought so "when I came across his farm this morning and saw the harrow laying out in the field where it has been all winter.” “Thee is right, friend Baker, I wns just thinking of that myself,” said the subject. “Well,” said the lecturer, “he undoubt edly likes to see things in their places.” “A small adhesivenest -firmness strongly developed. He likes to sue things as they should be, and will stick to anything he thinks he is correct in. Adquisiliveness is large, he likes to make money nnd can hold on to it.” “How is hein regard to the fair sex said one. “Oh, he’s 0. K. on that score.” “His combativeness, how is that ?” ask ed another. “Combativeness is quite small—quite.— Ho is n pence man ; he wouldn’t harm a dog, and—” “Wouldn’t nye,”cried the Quaker, in a stentorian voice, as he jumped up before the frightened phrenologist and squared himself and doubled his fists into all sorts of pugilis tic slinpos. “I do like to see things in their right places, thou lying dog. and if thee don’t make tracls pretty soon I’ll make such n bump on thy head os the has not defined late ly.” The phrenologist stood it for a few seconds with his hair on ond, but when the Quaker’s fist came too near his nose he sled for the door with the Quaker’s foot in full chose. The Quaker gentleman turned out to be no Quaker, but ns great a dare-devil nnd spendthrift as there was in the land, nnd his quniilies were not to he put into juxtaposi tion with the character the phienologisl gave hirn. A Scene at the Altar.—The Cleave- land True Democrat of the 8th ult, relates the following singular occurrence ns having taken place recently, in Huron, in that Stale; —“It appears that relations of intimate friendship had existed between Dr. R and Miss B , for some two years which resulted in their presenting themselves at the Episcopal Church for the purpose of marriage. The first portion of the service, embracing the vows of the'bridegroom, were promptly responded to by him! The cove nant of the bride was then read by the cler gyman, to which she promptly answered 'No!’ The minister asked her if sho was in earnest in wha< she said, ‘Yes, sir,’ said she, ‘he has perjured himself—trifled with tho affections of another—nnd I have but done him jqstipp ” An4 turning round she took a gentlpmap's ap" »cd left ths ‘ * ‘ ■"'-’tor saya ha don’t"""’—— A Picture of Drunkenness.—We take the following touching oxtract from “A Plea for Drunknrds, and against Drunkenness,” by the Rev. Dr Guthire. “Give that mother back her son, os he was on the day when he returned from his father’s grave, and, in all the affection of his uncorrupted boyhood, walkod to the house of God with a weeping mother leaning on his arm. Give thnt grieved man back his bother, ns innocent and happy ns in those days when the boys, IwinneS.n each other’s arms, returned from school bent over the snmo Bible, slept in tho same bed, nnd never thought that the day would coino when brother should blush for brother. Give this weeping wife, who sits before us wringing her hands in agony, the tears driping through her jeweled fingers, and tho lines, ofsorrow pre maturely drawn on her heautitul brow—give her back the man she loved, such os he was when her young heart was won, when the stood side hy side on the nuptial .day, n 1 received her from a fond Liner's hnnds, promised his love to one whose heart he has broken, and whose once graceful form bends witli sorrow to the ground. Givo me back, as a man the frionds of inv youthful days, whose wrecks now lie thick on the wreck- strewn shore. Give me back 11 minister, the brethren I have seen dragged from the pulpits which they adorned, and driven from the sweet manses, where we hare elosed in the happy evening with praise and prayer, to stand pale, haggarded at the public bar,— Give me back as a pastor, the lambs which 1 hnvo lost—give me lior who, in tho days of her unsullied innocence, waited on our min istry to bo told of the way to heaven, nnd warned from that to hell,ond whose unblush ing forehead we now shrink to see us she prowls through the streets for her prey.— Give back the life of this youth who died a drunkard’s death—and dread Ins doom—nnd who now, while his mother by the body, rocks on her chair in speechless agony, lies laid out in a chamber where we care not to speak of comfort, but are left to weep with those that weep, ‘dumb, opening not the mouth.’ Relieve us of tho tears that lie -heay.v_oD.our hearts lor the character and the souls ot some who hold parley with the dovil by his forbidden tree, and are floating on the edge of that grant Gulf Stream which sweeps its victims onward to meet tho most wotul ruin.” The Sea.—The mean depths of tho sea is, according to La Place, from three to five miles. If the oxisting waters were increas ed by one-fourth, it would drown the earth, with the exception of some high mountains. If the volume of the ocean were augmented by only one-eighth, considerable portions of the present continents would he changed all over the globe. Evaporation would be so much extended, that rains would continuully destroy the harvest, and fruits and flowers', aud subvert the whole economy of nature. There is, perhaps, nothing more beautiful in our whole system than the process by which our fields are irrigated from the skies, the rivers fed irom the mountains, ond the oceun restrained within bounds, which it never can exceed so long ns that process continues on the present scale. : The vapor raised by the sun from the sea floats wherover it is lighter than the atmosphere; condensed, it falls up on the water; or attracted to the mountains, dissolves, and replenishes the couduits with which, externally or internally, they are all furnished. By these conduits tho fluid is conveyed to the rivers which flow to the sur face of the earth, nnd to the springs which lie deep in its bosom, destined to supply man with a pure clement. If we suppose the sea then to he considerably diminished, the Am azon nnd the Mississippi, thr.se inland seas of the western world, would become incon siderable brooks; the brooks would wholly disappear, the atmosphere would he deprived of its due proportion of humidity ; all nature would assume the garb of desnlutipn ; the birds would droop on the wing, the lower ani mal would perish on the barren soil and man himself would wither away like the sickly grass at his feet. An Interesting Story.—Shon, mine shon,” said a worthy German father to his hopeful heir, of ten years, whom he had overheard using profane language “Shon mine shon I come here, and 1 fill teli you a little stories. Now, mine shon, shall it be a drue shtory or a makes-believe “Oh, a true story, of course !” answered John. “Ferry fell den. Tero vas vonce a gnot nice nldt shentleman, (shoost like mej andl he hnn a tirty (idle boy (sho'-st like you.J— Andt von day he heard him shweariug,like a young fiilain os he was. So he vent to (hr winkle (cornerj and dook out n r cowhides, slioost ns I am tiling now, and he daud ter lirty little piackguard by the collar (dis way you seelj and votloped he shoost soI And den, mine tear Shon, he bull his ears dis vay, and shmnek his face dat way, and dell sim to go mitout supper, shoost as you will to dis efening. Diamond Dust.—There arc truths which some men despise, because they have not examined, and which they will not examine, because they despise. The same objects appear pleasing or dis pleasing; as thq circumstances in which we see them are comfortable or uncomfortable. Hurry and cunning are the two apprenti ces of dispatch and skill, but neither of them ever learn their master’s trade. Life’s smallest miseries are perhaps its worst: great sufferings have great strength to tear them , Praise makes a wise man modest, a fool arrogant. To a generous spirit it is as hard to beg, as it is harsh to be denied. He who comes from the kitchen smells of its smoke. . If none were to reprove the vicious, ex cepting those who sincerely hate vice, .there would be much less censoriousness in the world. » ‘ t a certain age, if our henm contains no ran, it will probably bp full of follies and , - L --~ tie at the misfortune ot be- mg robbed, wins something from the thief. It is alwnys safe to learn, ever from our enemios—seldom safe to venture to instruct even onr friends. Lot your inclination bo to those who ad vise, rather than to thoso who praise your conduct. ,, Things which men cn|l the causes ol their melancholy are often the elleets of it. IV0 often s.eo characters in the world which we shaulil call ridiculously extravagant in n hook. _ R* wo would travel by u side road to hap piness, we must he content to pay the turn- Vico is the whetstone which sharpens I line’s scythe, CounTiNa.—Hero is n specimen of the ;ood old fashion mode of courting, ns it was lone in Conneclicut. Deacon Marvin, n irge land holder, nnd most exemplary man, accomplished his in this business-like way ; “Havihg one dny mounted his horse, with a sheep skin for a saddle, he rode in front of the house where Betty Lee lived, and with out dismounting, requested Betty to come to him ; on coming, ho told her thnt the Lord lind sent him to marry liar. Bettv replied, “Tho Lord’s will be done.’ ” • Col. Putnam’s Story.— Sunday, 1763.— Dined at Dr. Putnam’s, with Col. Putnnm and lady, and two young gentlemen, nephews of the Doctor, and Col. , nnd a Mrs. 8colly. Putnam told a story of an Indian, upon Connecticut River, who catted at a tavern in the fall of the >oar, for a dram.— The landlord asked him two coppers for it. The next spring, happening at the same house, he called for toother, and had three coppers to pay for it. “How is this; landlord f” snys he ; last fall you asked but two coppers for a glass of rum, now you ask three.’’ “Oh I” says the landlord, “it costs a good deal to keep rum over winter. It is as ex pensive to keep a hogshead of rum over win ter as a horse.” “Ah!” soys the Indian,“I enn’t see through that : lie won’t eat so much hay 5 may be he drink as much water.” This was sheer, wit, pure satire, and true humor. Humor, wit and satire in one very short sentence. John Adams. Don Cheap.—While looking out of our sanctum window last evening, at the busy throng crowding about the “Carding Sass,” as the yankees say, and old joke that a Frenchman once tola us, forced itself upon our memoiy. “Ah Mousieur,”said he,“de Yankee is a curious man. Ven I come to dis countrie, ma foi. I take my basket nnd 1 go to the marquet I see some fine potnme do (erre Veil how you sell dis ?” “Twenty cents a pack—clog sheep,” say de old woman. Don I see some of de vat you call Grass- sparrow. “Veil, how you sell dis;” “Three cento bunch—dog sheep,” And so mon ami, every sing was dog sheep. At last I went to ze butchaire, vere I see beautiful sausage. “Ho, my friend,” said I, “is dis dog—dog—dog—” but before 1 could rocollect ze sheep, de buthchaire charged on me vis beef shin, and I was vara glnd to make my escape vis a whole head I Bcgar since den I buy nosing dnt is dog sheep. Exchange Paper. Beautiful Extract.—There is on even tide in human life, a season when tho cyo becomes dim, and strength decays, when the winter of age begins to shed upon the limhnn head its prophetic snows. * 'it is the season of life to which the autumn is most analo gous, and which it becomes, and much it would profit you my elder brethren, to mark the instruction wiiice the season brings.— The spring and summer of your days are gone, and with them not only joys they know, but many of the friends who' ga<’e them. You have entered upon the autumn of your being, and whatever may have been the profusion of your spring or tho wqrm temperature of your summer, there is a sea son of stillness or solitude which the benefi cence of heaven affords you, in which you may meditate upon the past and future and prepare yourself for the mighty change which you may soon undergo. It is now lhat you may understand the magnificent langunge of heuven—it mingles its voice with that of re lation, it summons you to those hours when the leaves shall fall, and the winter gather ing, to thnt evening study which the mercy of heaven has provided in the book of salvn tion. And while the shadowy valley opens which leads to the abode of death, it speaks of that love which can comfort and save, and which conducts to those green pastures, and thoso still waters where there is an eternal spring for the children of God. The Boston Slave Case.—We do not see any new feature in this case, which de serves special notice. Mr. Rantoul, in his unconstitutional argument before the Supreme Court, went over nearly the same ground that was taken here by the counsel for Long, 1 to which the Court appears to have listened patiently. Chief Justice Shaw delivered the unanimous opinion of the Court that the case was not one justifying the issue of a writ of habeas corpus. T‘he opponents of tho law hnve resorted to every available mode of defeating its purpose—such as ar resting the agent of Sims’s owner apd one of the witnesses on a charge of kidnapping, &c., but all to no avail. All the boasted courage and purposes of appeal to force, on the part ofthe abolitionists, seem to have ditd away even more ludicrously than we anticipated.— New York Commercial Advertiser. (jrgs Common garden touch me not roots, ^ the ten of which is a certain antidote bite of the rattlesnake, or any 0 tlMAoultice of the same for thej der^ir'the sting of anyth'