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mMKi w* ,.rjor<t>a ieicgrauu. xww— ^ ~ —» f.U Y,f.V Telegraph’’ in Macon, should so write. W* flT will the letters designed for the !* offices, go directly to their place of des- ijtion- . - XU-y-y'V>y\ Ay V v; }J J> £4? w Q VOL. XXXII. MACON. TUESDAY MORNING, MAY 11, 1858. NO. 33. \I,v, utiskmkn’t it the regular charge w ill be U ii, ',//• j,i■ r square nt 10 line, or • for tllO first In i rtion.and Fifty Omt* tor each siibsequt l.t ii.» r thin. All advertisements not pc. ith il ns t" tin t- will be published until toMiid and ehargi ••.-■•rd in K ly Obituauv Notices m>t exceeding ten hi.. ••. w ill bo published gratia ; but Cosh nt the r-if- of One P"1 ]ar for every teD osniucri number, must ncc will bo cut short •ding th: ompany all I mg i dices, erthej ■The Tei-eorapii go to press . .1 o'clock, Monday Evenings. Advertisers will oblie- by hood ing in their favors, as early as Salt rilny, i f poeslkJo. f HE Id VTIIaATED TOOTH-PICK; OR, THE BLOOD-TUB of tillietudlum. A Tlirilliiiff Romance, p ,r,»tfd to Sweeney Todd, the Murderous Barber. Author of the “Crimson Warrior; or, the r l’lond; or. The Infatuated Dog;” “The Bloody r-jc-r i Tho Torn Shirt, Ac., Ac. CHATTER I. ■ >'ow ia the winter of my discontent Vide donbtly bitter by the scarcity W lager beer ,*•—Shaktptare. • Lager, more lager !" hoarsely shouted the i\«nt D’Nincompoop to his attendants as he 0.it the banquet table, in the Hall of Nin- .*peop Castle. ‘ the butler hastened to obey the order, and a returned with the intelligence that the l f wns all gone. •No lager?” shouted the Count in a voice .,thunder, „Sary glass !" replied the trembling me- cd- •• Fool, why dids’t thou not provide more of tb»t Teutonic beverage ? But go, depart, ftaporate ! ere in my rage I strike out from ,1a,boulder like an “artist,” and give you -jrssic The butler and other attendants left, and d r Count was alone. With rapid strides he paced the Hall, anon , , r ,>aks. while his manly face was distorted hr -peat". «ith fearful passion, .. Isabella D'Fitzsimpkins, tbou slialt be piae; are. haughty beauty, never shall Itode- ,•!<>’ call you wife. My plans are laid, and dike the New Orleans Merchants, I know no •nch thing as “ fail.” Roderiego, the Blood- Tuh. is on thy track ; beware, beware With the smile of a demon, he drew from its •heath a glittering dagger and sharpened it on kb boot. & CHATTER II. Cmsu>—“ Dost lliou know him, Iago ?” into—" I do ; he ia a load of bricks—he is.”—Othello. Roderiego D’Polliwog was an orphan. This Uncholv circumstance, it is generally be- ted. was caused by the death of his parents, loved with all the fiery ardor of his impetu- , nature, the beautiful Lady Isabella D’Fitz- ipkins. To him she owed her life; for when /day she walked forth in all the pride of jden loveliness, to purchase a pint of pea ls, a pair of frightened horses dashed madly m the street. All, except Isabella, fled, : she seemed as if rooted to the spot. Nearer j approach—a piercing shriek rends the -they aro almost upon licr, when a youth hes from a lager beer saloon, seizes the ids by tho reins, and with superhuman •ngth throws them into the middle of next ;k ! Having accomplished this herculean t, he bears Isabella into a drinking snloou, sre sho soon recovered, and is escorted ip by the gallant Rodriego. ’ Twas thus v met. That night Lady Isabella slept not.— night* ot Roderiego filled her mind, and conjured up, bright as the lustrous sign of Alhambra, visions of the future. And icriego, too, wooed the God of Sleep in CHATTER III. Hrrnoae ia like tho snowy-drift, Iml bunged np her eye.”—Byron. •• That's so.”—|Awful Gardner, a magnificently furnished apartment sat ir Isabella, and Roderiego knelt at her Rise, Roderiego sho said in dulcet tones. I’ll be as miserable as an over-night revel- eutcnccd by Mayor Withers to $50 or y days, until you decide my fate. In bauds rests my happiness ; will thou be • 1 .Speak Lady Isabella, speak !” :e answered not, but turned aside her love- pad, and wiped her nose. Are those pearly drops from that bright —excuse me, those bright eyes—of min- joy and apprehension.” ip dried her tears and spoke— Uodericgo, to you I owe the preservation y life. I love thee—aye, as the nightiu- lovcs the rose, or a nound puppy loves fruit,—but, but—I can never wed with What fearful mystery is here, compared which the assault on William Patterson • into insignificance.?” ejaculated Rode- Jstcn !” she exclaimed. “ There is an mountable barrier to our union, and that What ?’’ interrupted Roderiego 1 am the wife of Count d’Nincompoop, the od tub of Tillietudlum !” she gasped and fainting to the floor. CHATTER IV. If the red slayer thinks he slays, r if the slain thinks he is slain, ■ikes slight difference either ways, let 'em up and go in again I”—(Emerson, e Count d’Nincompoop left his Castle, his irrson closely enveloped in a cloak, which set) his noble form to advantage, and icd his way to the mansion of Lady Isa- With cautious steps he ascended the use, until he readies the room where wo introduced her in the last chapter, and ng the door beholds Roderiego endea- £ to restore Lady Isabella to conscious- »! ha! Roderiego, I have thee at last!” e the brave Roderiego could speak, he ’d his dagger into his bosom, enego d’Polliwog fell mortally wounded, tod running in a crimson stream upon Pvla incompoop gazed a moment at the body, en endeavored to arouse the Lady Jsa- •Slic opened her eyes and shuddered die beheld the Count, here is Rodercigo ?” she asked in agi* frfidious female woman, behold . he ned, as bo pointed to the corpse. “ My inec is complete. The Blood-tub has i ut bis wrongs with blood!” irlla gazed with an idiotic look upon the f him whom she loved. et me have a relic of the glorious deed, 1, and stooping took from the pocket of iego a broken tootb-pick. It was slight- tied with blood from the wound. CHATTER V. i and suspend.”—[Anonymous. s of the murder of Roderiego spread ty throughout the city. The vigi- iues of Cnpt. Charpenticr were on nd by the orders of Coroner Buford was arrested, and the mutilated was found upon his person, was summoned as a witness, nut l give no evidence—she had become The Count endeavored to prove that pon the tooth-pick was not arterial. b found guilty and sentenced to be ! what cry is that breaks on the —“’Ere’s the Evening Mcrkry!— very of Roderiego!” s was true. Roderiego was not tunded, and with the aid of the “ rc- ician, whose sands of life have out,” recovered his usual health, e remains for us to relate. The Count D’Nincompoop was released by the in tercession of Roderiego; but remorse and bitterness had shut out all sunshine forever from his life. In his wretchedness he sought to hide himself from the world in softie place where no sensation of pleasure or comfort would ever redeem the deep despair and mise ry which 'he wooed and cherished as the very “ luxury of wo.” So he went to hoard at the St. Louis Hotel in New Orleans. In a fit of diabolical passion nt hearing of the marriage of Roderiego D’Polliwog to the Lady Isabella D'Fitzsimpkins, he dashed his brains ont with a bar of soap. Roderiego and Isabella, who, after the mur der, bad procured a divorce from the Count, lived happily together, and many little Polly- wogs squirmed around their feet. The Iloosior and flic Salt Pile. BT DANFORTH MARBLE. I’m sorry,” says Dan, as he knocked the ashes from his rcgalm, as he sat in a small crowd over a glass of sherry, at Florence’s, New York, one evening, “I’m sorry tlrat the stages are disappearing so rapidly; I never enjoyed travelling so well as in the slow coach es. I've made a good many passages over the Alleghanies, and across Ohio, from Cleveland to Columbus and Cincinnati, all over the Sontli, down East and up North, in stages, and I gen erally had a good time. “When I passed over from Cleveland to Cincinnati the last time, in the stage, I met a queer crowd—such a corps, such a time you never did see; I never was better amused in my life. Wc hail a good team—spanking horses, and one of the drivers you read of. Well, there were nine * insiders,’ and I don’t believe there ever was a stage full of Chris tians ever started before so eliuck full of mu sic. “There was a beautiful young lady going to one of the Cincinnati academies; next to her sat a Jew pedler—for Cowes and a market; wedging him in was a dandy, blackleg, with jewelry and chains around his breast and neck —enough to hang him. There was myself and an old gentleman, with large spectacles, gold- headed cane, and a jolly, soldering-iron look ing nose; by him was a circus-rider, whose breath was enough to breed yellow fever, and could be felt just as easy as cotton velvet! A cross old woman came next, whose look would have given any reasonable man the double- breasted blues before breakfast; alongside of her was a rale backswood preacher, with the biggest and ugliest mouth ever got up since the flood. He was flanked by the low com edian of the party, an Indiana lioosicr, ‘gwine down to get an army contract ’ to supply the forces then in Mexico with beef. “ We rolled along for some time, nobody seeming inclined to ‘open.’ Tho old aunty sat bolt upright, looking crab-apples and persim mons at the hoosier and the preacher, the young lady dropped the green curtain of her bonnet over her pretty face and leaned back in her seat to nod and dream over japoniens and jumbles, pantalettes and poetry ; the old gen tleman, proprietor of the Bardolph nose, look ed out at the ‘corduroy’ and the swashes ; the gambler fell off into a doze, and the circus covey followed suit, leaving the preacher and me vis-a-vis, and saying nothing to nobody. ‘Indianny,’ lie stuck his mug out of the wm- dow and criticised the cattle we now and then passed. I was wishing somebody would give the conversation a start, when ‘Indianny’ made a break— “ ‘This ain’t no great stock country,’ says he to the old gentleman with the cane. “ ‘No, sir,’ says the old gentleman. There’s very little grazing here, and the range is pret ty much wor out.’ “Then there was nothing said again for some time. Bimeby the hoosier opened again— “ ‘It’s the d est place for simmon-trees and turkey buzzards I ever did see!’ _ “The old gentleman with the cane did’nt say nothing, and the preacher gave a long groan. The young lady smiled through her veil, and the old lady snapped her eyes and looked side ways at the speaker. “ • Don’t make much beef here, I reckon, says the hoosier. “ ‘No,* says the gentleman. “ ‘Well, I don’t see how in h—11 they all manage to get along in a country wliar tliar ain’t no ranges, and they don’t make beef. A man ain’t considered worth a cuss in Indiany what hasn’t got his brand on a hundred head.' “ Yours is a great beef country, I believe,” says the old gentleman. “ Well, sir, it aint anything else. A man that’s got sense enuff to follcr his own cow-bell with ain’t in no danger of starvin. I’m gwine down to Orleans to see if I can’t git a contract out of Uncle Sain, to feed the boys what’s been lickin them infernal Mexicans so bad. I s’pose you’ve seed them cussed lies what’s been in the papers about the Indiany boys at Bony Visty.” “I’ve read some accounts of the battle, says the old gentleman, “ that didn’t give a very flattering account of the conduct of some of our troops.” “With that, the Indiany man went into a full explanation of tho affair, and, gittin warm ed up as he went along, begun to cuss and swear like he’d been through a dozen eam- paingns himself. The old preacher listened to him with evident signs of displeasure, twist in’ and groanin’ till he couldn’t stand it no longer.” “My friend," says he “you must excuse me, but your conversation would be a great deal more interesting to me—and I’m sure would please the company much better—if you would’nt swear so terribly* It’s very wrong to swear, and I hope you’ll have respect for our feelins’, if you linin’ no respect for your Makor. , ., . , “If the hoosier had been strm-k with thunder and liglitinin’, he could'nt nave been more completely tuck aback. He shut his mouth right in the middle of what he was sayin’, and looked at the preacher, while his face got as red as fire. “ ‘.Swcarin’,’ says the old preacher, ‘is a ter rible bad practice, and there ain’t no use in it, no liow. The Bible says, swear not at all, and I s’pose you know the commandments a- bout sweatin' ?* - . The old lady sort of brightened up—'“'C “ Is it possible!” says the old gentleman “ Yes, sir, he seen the salt, standin’ tliar to this day.” “What!” says the hoosier, “real, genewine good salt!” “Yes, sir, a pillar of salt, jest as it. was when that wicked woman was punished for her disobedience.” All but the gambler, who was snoozing in the corner of the coach, looked at the preach er—the hoosier with an expression of counte nance that plainly told that his mind was pow erfully convicted of an important fact. “Right out in the open air ?” he asked. “Ycs.standin’ right in the open field, whar she fell.” *“ Well,8ir,’ says Indianny, ‘all I’ve got to say is, if she’d dropped in our parts, the cattle would have licked her vp afore sundown !’ _ “ The preacher raised both his hands at such an irreverent remark, and the old gentleman laughed himself into a fit of asthmatics, which he did’nt get over till he came to the next change of horses. The hoosier had played the mischief with the gravity of the whole party; even the old maid had to put her handkerchief to her face, and the young lady’s eyes were filled with tears for half an hour afterwards. The old preacher hadn’t another word to say on the subject; but whenever we came to any place, or met any body on the road, the circus man nursed the thing along by askiug what was the price of salt.” Tlie-llell Crevasse. preacher was her ‘duck of a man ;’ the old fel low with the ‘nose’ and cane let off a few ’umph. ah umphsbut • Indiauy ’ kept shady, he ap peared to be cowed down. “I know.” says the preacher, “ that a great many people swear without thinkin*. and some people don’t b’lieve the Bible.” “ And then he went on to preach a regular sermon agin swearing, and to quote Scripture like he had the whole Bible by heart. In the course of his argument he undertook to prove the Scriptures to be true, and told us all about the miracles and prophecies, and their fulfill ment. The old gentlemen with the cane took part in the conversation, tud the hoosier list ened without ever opening hia head. “ I’ve iust heard of a gentleman.” says the u.-eacher. “that’s been to the Holy Land, and went over the Bible country. It’s astonislnn hear what wonderful things lie has seen, was at Sodcffn and Gomorrow, and seen the nlace whar Lot’s wife fell!’ •Ali!” says the old gentleman with the cane. • Yes,” says the preacher, “ he went to the very spot; and what’s the most remarkable tbitfg of all, he seen the pillar of salt what she was turned into ! We yesterday visited the Father of the Waters’ little son, the Crevasse. We went up via the swamp line of skiffs, from Holmes’ Pa vilion Garden at Algiers—the distance then to the crevasse being five or six miles—and found the ride quite interesting; in fact, decidedly lively. Our compagnons du voyage were the ever-attentive Commodore Holmes, two other sturdy Algerines of the boating interest, three lady Algerines with infantile Algerines at their breasts, a boy, a girl, and two baskets filled with bottles and paper parcels. The lower part of Algiers, or that part di rectly opposite Canal street, was closely me naced by the flood. From the Pavilion Gar den up to Gretna, and from that town to the crevasse, the only dry land was the levee, with an inner slope, varying according to the natural undulations. The whole country was a lake, here white and feathery with the thistle-down of the commons, and there smooth and unbro ken from the cultivation of the fields beneath. For nearly three miles we went up over the Opelousas Railroad track ; in several parts of which, though the average depth of the water was four feet, the iron rails showed above the surface, being held up by the floating tim bers. The bushes, weed-tops and fences were alive with water-bound spiders, lizards and other Bmall inhabitants of the swamp. The water was enlivened here and there with snakes and leeches swimming for laud, and with bewilder ed buffalo fish hunting deep water. It would have been a splendid trip for au icthyologist or an entomologist. The submerged Catholic cemetery back ot McDonoghville, and the sub merged habitations of the living along the route, were interesting features of the grand water picture. The Marine Hospital was never more marine than on this occasion. At Gretna we found a large part of the town inundated ;' the houses built close to the earth being com pletely washed out. and those built on pillars being still tenanted, with' the aid of skiffs, gunwales and other floating craft, and bridges built along the streets as in this city in 1849. In several yards we saw cats, dogs and chick ens loafing about on the floating timber, as un concerned as if on terra firma. The hardy rowers of the skiff rested twice on the way, at two miles intervals ; tying up first under a wild cherry tree, and next under a spreading live-oak—the baskets disgorging and inspiriting all hands pleasantly at each halt. At Harvey’s Canal the water was no longer slack, and the boatmen had to come out with their extra jerks. From the canal up to the crevasse, the route was necessarily zigzag, the flood being full of riffles and little mill-tails, which the jolly boatmen had no fancy to en counter ; at which we did’nt wonder. How they could row so long and so vigorously with out skinning their hands or getting out of breath, was a problem of the trip which we were unable to solve. Nearing the crevasse, our rowers had to con vert themselves into engines, so far as bone and muscle would admit of such a conversion. At last we landed, and took a general survey. The crevasse was a roaring young river, and Bell’s plantation a foaming sea. The narrow levee-top swarmed with visitors who had’nt pat ronized the Swamp Line, and who were impe ded or being impeded by the laboring gangs of negroes. The fishermen were busily dipping buffaloes from the cataract, and selliug them at five cents and a dime apiece. Negro women were selling cakes and beer, and small specu lation was rife generally. Many of the slaves who had nothing to sell, begged for picayunes and tobacco. The pile driving was proceeding slowly by haud. The whole width of the breach ap peared to be between three and tour hundred feet. More than three-fourths of the distance, the in-rushing torrent was made to boil higher and roar louder by a triple row of piles, or a highway of piles driven three abreast, the trip lets being about ten feet apart. As they were covered with a scanty sort of staging, and otherwise braced together, we walked out upon them with the view of reaching the scow, whose three pile-drivers were nt work on a new trio of piles—the scow being secured from the river, and lying lengthwise with the torrent of ■the crevasse. But the piles, firmly secured as they were, still swayed so much in the cataract that we remembering Artagnon, who got drown ed there the other day, turned back. Besides, it was a sight to make one’s head swim to see the tremendous leaping and foaming of the torrent beneath in its tusscl with the piles. It is no wonder Algiers and the whole coun try below is filled up. Through the whole width of the breach, over a hundred yards, the river plunges madly ; no part of the works, so far, having gone beyond fortifying the sides of the breach and driving down the bare piles.— Dirt in hags was lying around plentifully, and seemed to have been freely used in caulking the fortifications. Thero is little doubt that From the Augusta Constitutionalist. Importation of African Negroes. Mr. Editor: The Daily Constitutionalist, of the 20th ult., contains a communication on this subject, which I think is worthy of some further notice. If apprentices could be intro duced from Africa on the just and merciful terms suggested by “Senex,” it would certain ly be a blessing to them and their country.— Possibly the final result of the measure might be beneficial to us also. But there is one objec tion to the importation of ruch apprentices which seems to be insuperable. The Africans gen erally have a deep aversion to emigration from their native country. Slaves are the only ap prentices to he obtained in Africa, and destruc tive wars are the only means by which the Af rican chief can obtain slaves to supply the de mand for emigrants. The opening of the French traffic in apprentices immediately re produced the slave-catching wars, which had almost ceased in every part of western Africa. If the Southern States should adopt the French policy, this evil would of course be augmented. Having resided and traveled in different countries of Western Africa for six years, I can testify, what no one can deny, that the battles ami sieges which supply Europeans with slaves, or apprentices, destroy from two to four persons for every laborer who reaches the plantations in America. In one journey of sixty miles, viz : from Badagry to Afbeokuta, I counted the sites of no less than eighteen towns and villages which had been laid in ruins to supply slaves for the markets of Brazil and Cuba. I found similar desolations in ev ery country which I visited; on the waters of the St. Paul’s river, a hundred miles interior from Monrovia, on the slave coast generally, and on the waters of the Niger. On the 3d of March, 1851, 1 witnessed a battle between the slave-catching army of Dahomey, and the Egba people, in which the former were defeat ed, and left twelve hundred and nine of their number dead on the field. The carnage was probably equally as great on the following day, in a running fight of fifteen miles, and a subsequent close conflict of two hours. » Were it really certain that the importation of Africans would promote the virtue, industry, and best interests of Georgia, still, as civilized men, and as Christians, we must feel a great repugnance to the obtaining of apprentices by means of battles, sieges, and conflagrations in Africa. If the free natives of the country were willing to emigrate, which they are not, the case would be very different.' My candid opinion is, that apart from slave- catching wars, the barbarians of Africa are less addicted to war than other barbarians are, or generally have been, whether in Asia, Eu rope or America. If we except a few fisher men along the coast, the Africans are all far mers, even in the rudest countries, and hence arc naturally disposed to peace. The whites of Europe and America, and the mulatto Pulohs, or Fellatahs, are responsible for most of the wars which have so greatly afflicted the negroes of Africa. That the country was for merly more quiet and populous than it now is. may justly be inferred from the fact, that most of the ruins above mentioned are comparative ly modern. There has undeniably been a prodigious waste of life within a fear genera tions. The commerce of Western Africa is now worth more than thirty millions per annum.— If the civilized nations of Europe and America would refuse to depopulate that extensive and fertile country, and would endeavor to promote peace and civilization among the people, the varied productions of Africa would eventually become a grand item in the commerce of the world. That the people are willing to labor when they have a profitable market, is well known to every one who has been acquainted with the country since the partial suppression of the slave trade. In several districts large quantities of land have been brought into cul tivation, and several whole tribes have made decided advances toward civilization. But the unfortunate policy of France has again arous ed the demon of war, and some tribes who were foremost in the work of improvement have turned their attention from agriculture to kidnapping. These facts are not only asser ted by me, but have been recently published again and again, both in Englandand America, in the letters of Missionaries and merchants residing in Africa. In conclusion, I earnestly hope that the peo pie of America will not consent to spread fire and sword throughout Guinea and Sudan for the sake of present advantage. The true policy of the civilized - world is to developc the vast resources of that great continent by com merce aud colonization, to cover its plains with tropicai plantations and populous towns, and to make its numerous rivers so many high ways of an active and valuable commerce. T. J. Bowen. Greensboro’, Ga., May 1st, 1858. before many days the work of pile-driving across the breach will be finished. Then will commence the second work of sinking gates against the piles, and filling in with ilirt—a work which many believe will he the destruc tion of the first, so weak and tottering arc the piles and so tremendous the rush of water.— Though the parties conducting the work are sanguine of success, most of the people over the river arc skeptical, and maintain that the only stoppage of tho crevasse will be the fall of the river. The battle between science and the river is by no means a paltry one, and»wc await the issue with no little curiosity. Wc returned front the crevasse via the river in the skiff which took us up, tho rowers hav ing hauled it across the ievee. 1 he hoy «Ro was along took the oars aud brought us down kiting. We like a skiff ride once in a while ! [.V. O. Crescent. “ Bill, what brought you to prison ? “ A couple of constables, sir ?’’ •• And bad liquor anything to do with it ? “ Yes, sir ; Eliza teased inc so, I bad to lick’her.’ An Arkansas “ Noatis.” In a recent tour through one of the wildest and most sparsely-settled regions of Arkansas, (says a correspondent of a New York paper,) I arrived at the ferry on the Cache river. A little log-house grocery stood on the near bank, about fifteen steps from where the flat lay, tied to a snag in the edge of the water. Several bear-skins, deer-skins and coon-skins, were nailed np to dry against the walls of the grocery, but the door was closed and no bar keeper, ferryman, or other person, was in sight. I hallooed at the top of my voice some half a dozen times but no one answered. See ing an advertisement on the door, I read as follows : “Noatis.—Ef enny boddy cums hoar arter lickcr, or to get Akross the River. They can ges bio This here Horne and cf i don’t cum when my wife Betsey up at the House hearcs the Home a bloin shele cum down and sell the lickcr or set cm Akross the River ime guinc a Fishin no credit when ime away from iloemc john wilson N. B. them that cant redo will heve to go too the houcs arter Betsey tant but half a mile thar.” In obedience to the “ Noatis,” I took the blowing horn, which stuck in a crack of the wall close by the door; I gave it a “ toot ” or two, which reverberated far around, through cane and swamp, and in a few minutes was answered by a voice scarcely less loud by rever berating than that of the horn—it seemed to be about half a mile up the river—and in a- bout fifteen minutes a stalwart female made her appearance, and asked if I wanted “ lick- “No, madam ; I want to cross the river, if you please.” “Dontycwaut some licker fast ?” “ No, madam—don’t drink—never touch liquor.” “Never tccli lickcr ! Why, then ; you must be a preacher, an’t you ?" “No, madam; I am only ason of temperance. I wish to get across the river, if you please —do you row the boat ?” “0, yes ; I can take ye over in less than no time. Fetch up ycr boss.” I obeyed, asking as I led the horse into the boat, “Did your husband write that advertise ment on the door there ?” "No, sir-ee ! Schoolmaster Jones writ that. John hain’t got no larnin !” And the good woman rowed the boat safely across the ugly stream : and, banding her the ferriagefee, I bade her good morning, believing then, (ac I still do) that she was one of the hap piest women arid best wives I ever saw, perfect ly contented with her lot, because she knew no better. Xllcpliaiit limiting. A person who has never witnessed the sight of a large herd of elephants feeding in their wild solitudes cannot form an idea of the gran deur of the scene. In Ceylon this is seldom seen, unless by a most persevering hunter, as the number of guns have so disturbed them that they rarely come out into the open plain, until late in the evening or during the night. I was once on a shooting trip with a friend (than whom a better sportsman never lived,) and we had arrived at a wild, miserable place about sixty miles from Batticaloa, called Gol- langangwellewevc—and a very long name it was for so small a place; but the natives in sisted that a great number of elephants were in the neighborhood. They also declared that these animals infested the neighboring lake even during the forenoon, and that they night ly destroyed the embankments of the paddy fields, and that they would not be driven away, there being no guns in the village. This look ed all right, so we loaded and started without loss of time. Our route lay for about a quarter of mile through deserted paddy land and low jungle, after which we entered a fine open forest. Un fortunately, it was partially flooded by the late heavy rains which had burst the dam of the lake. Within 200 yards of the dam the forest was, accordingly, about two feet deep in wa ter, with a proportionate amount of sticky mud beneath. On our arrival on the dam there was a fine sight. The lake was about five miles round, and was quite full of wa ter, the surface of which was quite covered with a scanty, but tall, rushy grass. In the lake, browsing upon this grass, we counted twenty- three elephants ; and there were many little ones, no doubt, that we could not distinguish in such rank vegetation. Five large elephants were not more than 120 paces distant; the re mainder were in a long line about a quarter of a mile from the shore, feeding in deep water. Wc were wellcoucealed by the trees that grew upon the dam, and we passed half an hour in considering how we were to get at them. The natives had no idea of the sport, as they seem ed to think it very strange that wedid not fire at 120 paces distance. It struck me that the only way to secure a shot at the herd would be to employ a ruse that I hail successfully practiced at a former time. I sent about twen ty men to the opposite side of the lake, with instructions to yell to their utmost, in order to drive the elephants into the forest upon our side. Some time passed in suspense, but at length the desired yell burst forth, and a grand effect this had upon the elephants ; up went tails and trunks, the whole herd dosed togeth er, and rushed towards the forest. Away we slipped through the water until we reached dry ground in tho forest, when turning sharp to our right, we soon halted exactly in the path for which the elephants were making. A few minutes of glorious supcnsc,aml the gr;uid crash anil roar of broken water approached dose at hand, and we distinguished the mighty pha lanx, headed by the largcstelcphants, bearing down exactly upon us, and not a hundred yards 1 distant. On came the herd in gallant stylo; they were within twenty yards, and we were still undiscovered, when a frightened native gave the alarm, and round went their colossal heads; right about was the word,—aud away they dashed through the flooded forest. In the same instant, we made a rush in among them, and I floored one of the biggest leaders by a shot behind the ear; P. then got another shot and bagged one more ; then down went another to our joint shots, as wc unfortunate ly took the same bird. The herd now separa ted, and P. followed one lot, while I made hard runniug after the other. Hallooing at them with all my might, to tease some of the old bulls into a charge, I ran at top speed through the fine open forest, and soon got among a whole crowd of half grown elephants, at which I would not fire; there were a lot of fine beasts pushing along in the front, anil towards these I ran as hard as I could go. I managed to overtake the rearmost, and knocked him over by a temple shot. Up went the tail and trunk of one of the leading Lulls at the report of the shot and, trumpeting shrilly, he ran first on one side, then to the other with his cars cocked, and sharply turning his head to either side. I knew this fellow had his monkey up,and that a little teasing would induce him to charge. I therefore redoubled my shouts aud yells, and kept on in full chase, as the elephants were straining every nerve to reach a piece of thick jungle within a couple of hundred paces. At length the leading elephants gained the jungle, closely followed by the others, aud, to my as tonishment, my excited friend, who had lag ged in the rear, followed their example : but it was only for a few seconds, for, on entering the thick bushes, he wheeled sharp round, and came rushiug out in full charge. This was very plucky, but rash, as his retreat was secured when iu the thorny jungle, but now he courted further battle. On he came at a slapping pace, with ears cocked aud tail on end, but I knock ed him over immediately with a ball in the centre of the forehead. I now returned to look for P., aud met and killed a small stray ele- pliant on my way. We had bagged seven, which,although a small number considering the size, of the herd, was as much as we could ex pect in such heavy ground. 1 had fired live shots, aud had floored one for each. I cannot say more for ieadeu bullets.—Phantom in the London Field. The Siamese Twins Nowhere. A correspondent of the Louisville Journal, writing from Henderson, Kentucky, gives the following account of a “lusus natura^ in that place, that surpasses all the freaks of that oc casionally whimsical lady Nature, that we ever beardof: . . _ ... 1 have just returned from a visitio one ot tne most extraordinary curiosities ever seen in the history of the human race. Ancgro woman, be longing to Mr. Stitcd, of this place, gave birth, eight days ago, to four living children, joined together by pairs in a stilt more peculiar mun- nt? than the Siamese Twins. Two boys are connected at the shoulder, and from mp to the knee joint, leaving the lower joint of the leg and the feet of each perfectly tree, rhe girls are joined at the shoulder, with tins difference from the boys—that they have but one arm from the junction of theij: shoulders. They joined from the hip down to the foot—the two legs ending in one foot. In regard to the col or of the children, nature seems to have been quite as eccentric as in their formation, one of the boys being black and the other as white ns the child of a white woman ; and so with the girls.—They all seem to be perfectly healthy ; the mother is doing uncommonly well. One of the finest specimens of a laconic speech on record is that of Rochejacquelin . “If I advance, follow me ; it I fall avenge me : if I flinch, kill me.” , A theological professor, speaking of Balaam s ass, says it is wrong to doubt that the ass spoke like a man, when we daily hear so many men speak like asses. , , , If you don’t know what everybody else kno ws, you had better hold your tongue ; and if you know something that everybody knows, you had better hold your tongue too. "Mother, send foi the doctor. “Why, my b0 n ?” “ Cause that man in the parlor is "O'ng to die : he said he would it sister Jane did not many him, and Jane said she wouldn t.’ •• Come here, aud tell me what the four sea sons are?” Young prodigy answers, “Rap per, mustard, salt, aud vinegar, them's what mother always seasons with. officer of the American Army, piaytm an iuijtmi«nv liberal oiler oi ims n«»me wmuHcuw, u» r*m dn wfth part. The story being of a most thrilling nature, and him in the capacity of private secret.irv. mid confi exhibiting in a striking manner the ‘'Perils of the (lf < i n r.vkis p of his grant, tne Border/’ we have concluded to givean extract from ; in .iinm- i :• y erected a tort, and it, as originally published, as follows : offered'suolt indn«(*nuuTs ••• tiers Ss tospcedilv The angle on the right bank of the Great Kanawht, oo|lect arm;il d him quite a little <o mm unity—of formed by its Junction with the Ohio, is called I oiut w hjc*h, matter of cour 1 . Iu oorauie the head Pleasant, and is a place of historical note. Here, 01* al)d ch i e f ; and to supply the w ants ot his own family the !0th of October, 1774, during what is known as Hnc j others,and Increase his gains in a legitimate way, J.-ord Dunmore’s War, was fought oiie ot wie fiercest c ,p ene d a store, and filled it with goods trm 11 and mosPdesperate battles that ever took place he- ^<3 Eastern marts, which goods were transported by tween the Virginians and their forrest foes. land over the mountains to the Kanawha, and thence After the battle in question, in which the Indians ^ wat<T to £h e Falls of the Ohio, whence their re- were defeated with great loss, a fort was here erected mov ai to Fort Bertrand became an easy matter. To by the victors, which became a post ot great impor- p Urc jia«e and ship these goods, and deliver a pack- tance throughout the sanguinary scenes oist^ite a ge of letters to friends in the East,Eugene had been which almost immediately followed, and which in this thrice dispatched—his third commission already ex section of the country were continued for many years tending to the escorting of the beautiful heiress, with alter that establishment "of peace which acknowjedg- her servants, to her new home. TV- last commission ed the United Colonies of America a free and mae- been 0O f ar executed at the time chosen for the pendent nation. opening of our story, as to bring : i. dilb rent parties At the landing of the fort, on tho day our story to tJie mout h of the great Kan ». :u*e therea* sens, was fastened a flat boat of the kind used 0$ <u.r hns seen them siowlv float»ng oil upon the still, sent the scene to the reader, stood five individuals, ^ anything occur*...*, - - --- --- alike engaged in warcMng a group of persons, mostly ^(.jock, when, os Blanche was standing on tho females, who were slowly approaching the landing. fore oh,* of the deck gazing at the lovely scene which Of these five, one was a stout, sleek negro, in partial surroun< ied her, she saw a seemingly dying body sud- livery, and evidently a house or body servant; three den j v j eave ji m h of a gigantic tree, (whose mighty were b ’' ♦— rough, fifth was of age, OJ a lino iwiui.— -- - uom, KlOlUluru ur.tu r, open, intelligent countenance; and m the loity car- sufficed to show her what the object was. ana re riage of his head—in the gleam of his large, bright, jbe blood in her veins. The glowing eves ot hazel eye—there was something which denoted one huge panther met her gaze. Tue suddenness of tho of the superior mind ; but as we shall have occasion which this discovery gave her was overpower- in the course of our narrative to fully set forth who ^ With a deafening shriek she fell upon her and what Eugene Fairfax was, we will leave him for „ 1 * ... *1... flTrtlll). 1UIU wuni * .... the present, and turn to the approaching group, w horn lie seemed to be regarding with lively interest. Of this group, composed of a middle-aged man and four females, with a black female servant following some five or six paces in the resr, there was one whom tho most casual eye would have singled out and resv ed upon with pleasure. The lady in question, waa apparently about twenty years of age. of a slender and graceful figure, aud of that peculiar cast of feat ure, which besides being beautiful iu every luu a- ment, rarely tails to affect the beholder with some thing like a charm. ....... Her-travelling costume—a fine brown habit, mgn in the neck, buttoned closely over the bosom and coming down to her small pretty feet without trail ing on the ground—was both neat and becoming: aud with her riding-cap and its waving ostrich plume, set gaily above her flowing curls, imr appearance contrasted forcibly with the rough, unpolished looks of those of her sex beside her, with their linsey bed gowns, scarlet flannel petticoats, and bleached linen “Uli, xvanene, • • •*•• her female companions, pursuing a conversation which had been maintained since quitting the open fort behind them, “1 cannot bear to let you go; for it iust seems to me as if something were going to hap pen to you, and when 1 feelthat way, something gen erally does happen.” . “Well, aunt," returned Blanch, with a light laugh, “I do not doubt iu the least that aomething willhap- for I expect one of these days to reach my dear fatherandblessed mother, and give them such an em brace as is duo from a dutiful daughter to bor parents —and that will be something that has not happened for two long years at least.” “But I don’t mean that, Blanche, returned the other, somewhat petulantly; “and you just laugh like a gay and thoughtless girl, when you ought to bese rious Because youhave come sate thus far, through a liartially settled country, you think, perhaps, your own pretty face will ward off danger m the more per ilous wilderness—hut I warn yo own pretty iace w»>, •'»••* •■•■ — ilous wilderness but 1 warn you that a fearful jour ney isbefore you! Scarcely a boat descends the Ohio, that does not encounter more or less peril from the savages that prowl along either shore, and some of them that go down freighted with human life, are beard of no more, and none ever return to tell the “ But why repeat this to me, dear aunt,” returned Blanche, with a more serious'air “when you know it is my destiny, either good or bad, to attempt the vovage » My parents have sent for me to join them in their new home, and it is my duty to go to tnem, lie the peril what it may.” “ You never did know what it vas to fear! pur sued the-good woman, rather proudly “No, she reneated, turning to the others, ‘ Blanche Bertrand never did know what it wiis to fear, I believe ! “ Just like her father!” joined in the husband of the matron, the brother of Blanche s mother, the commander of the station, and the middle aged gen tleman mentionedas one of the party; a true daugh- t.r of a true soldier. Her father, Colonel Philip Bertrand, God bless him tor a true heart! never did seem to know what it was to fear—and Blanche is t&stime the parties had reached the boat; and the young man already described—Eugene Fairfax, the secretary of Blanche s father—at once stepped forward and, in a polite and deferential maimer, oft- his hand to the different females, to assist them on board The hand of Blanche was the last to touch his—und then but slightly, as she sprung quickly and lightly to tho deck-but a close observermight have detected the slight flush which mantled liis noble, ex^ press^e features as bis eye for a single instant met fiers She might herself have seen it-perhaps she did—bat there was no corresponding glow on her own bright, pretty face, as sho inquired, in the calm, dignifiedtone of one having the right to put the ques- rion, and who might also have been aware ot the in equality of position between herselt and him she ad- ^“Kugene. is everything prepared for our departure? It wilt not do for our boat to spring a leak again, as ** . .i _ t r ....... i,r(.»• it umII tmt Bn Him it ucainuiiift - •* "t ----- knees and clapped her hands before her breast. Tne panther crouched tor his deadly leap, but ere ho sprang, the hunting knife of Eugene Fairfax (who, with the steersman, was the only person on deck besides Blanche,) was bnrled to tho hilt in his side, inflicting a severe but not fatal wound. 1 ho infuri ated beast at once turned upon Eugene, and a deadly struggle ensued. But it was a short one. '1 he pol ished blade of the knife played back and forth like lightning flashes, and at every plunge it was ouriod to the hilt in the panther’s body, who soon foil to tho deck, dragging the dauntless Eugene with him. On seeing her protector fall, Blanche uttered another shriek and rushed to his aid : but assistance from stouter arms was at hand. The boatmen gathered round, and the savage monster was literally hacked ill Dicces with their knives and hatchets, and Eugeno iu pieces with their knives and hatchets, and Eugeno covered with blood, was dragged from under liis car cass. Supposing him to be dead or mortally wound ed, Ulaache threw her arms around his neck aud gave way to a passionate burst of grief But he waa not dead—he was not even hurt, with (he exception of a few slight scratches. The blood with which be w.- s covered was the panther's, not his own. But Blanche’s embrace was his—a priceless treasure—au iudex of her heart's emotions and affections. It was to color liis whole future life, as will be seen in the progress of our story. . Slowly aud silently, save the occasional creak,dip, aud plash of the steersman’s oar, ihe boat of our voyagers was borne along upon the bosom ot tho current on the third night of the voyage. The hour was waxing late, and Eugene, the only one astir ex cept the watch, was suddenly startled, by a rough hand being placed upon his shoulder, accompanied by the words, in the gruff voice of tho boatman: “I say, Cap’n here's trouble !” “What is it, Dick V inquired Eugene, starting to his feet. . . “Don't you seo tliar’s a heavy, fog rising, that 11 soon kiver us up so thick that we won’t be able to tell a white mm from a nigger?” replied the boat man—Dick Winter by name—a tall, bony muscu lar, athletic specimen of his class. “Good heaven! so there is!” exclaimed Eugene, looking off upon the already misty waters. “It must have gathered very suddenly, lor all was clear a minute ago. Wliat is to be done now ? This is UllllUlU * * Hi* i Wt uo uv..- -- something 1 was not prepared for, on such a night as this.” i inis. “It looks troublous, Cap'n I’ll allow,” returned Dick ;” but we're in for't that's sarlin, and I s'poao we'll have to make tho best sn't” “But what is to be done T—what do you advise ?” asked Eugene, in a quick, excited tone, that indica ted some degree of alarm. “Why, ef you war'nt so skeered about the young lady, and it wani't so deail agin tho orders from bead quarters, my plan would he a cl arand easy one—I’d just run over the Kaintucky shore, snd tie up.” “No, no,” said Eugene,positively; “that will nev er do, flick—that will never do! I would not think of such a thing for a moment! We must keep ha the current by all means'!" “Ef you can,” rejoined the boatman; “but when it gits so dark as we can’t tell one thing from t'other, it’ll be powerful hard to do; and cf we ilou!t run a- gin a bar or hank afore morning, iuspit.0 of tjie best o’ us, it’ll be the luckiestgo that ever I hand in. See, Cap’n—it’s thickening up tn*t; we can’t see eyther bank at all, nor the water neither; the star* isgettin’ dim, and it looks as iftharwaracloudall round us.” “I see! I see!” returned Eugene, excitedly. “Mer ciful Heaven ! I hope no accident will befall us here —and yet my heart almost misgives me!—for tills, l believe, is the most dangeious part of our journey— the vicinity where most of our boats have been cap turedbythe savages.” Saying this.Eugenehastened below,wherehe found the other boatmen sleening so soundly as to require considerable efforqon his part,to wake them. At last getting them fairly roused, he informed them, almost, in a whisper, for’ho did not care to disturb the others, that a heavy fog had suddenly arisen, and he wished their presence on deck immediately. “A fog, Cap’n ?” exclaimed one, in a fohejrntej I.ULlcBt'i loci gw A . . | | • " A HjfV. t;Jt11 11 ; navlaliucu tiuvi a** •* . It will not do for our bout to indicated tlnit he comprehended the peril with the it did coming down the k.anawha--lor it will not De safe tor us, I am told, to touch either ishore ^tween „ Uogh j., returne <i Eugene; there is no necessity the different forts and trading-p<>sU on our rute,t Awaking Ihe others, and haying a scene. Up! and side of our destination, , li v . will follow me, without a word!" “No, indeed! rejoined her aent. qtutkly , it w ill H<j Hded back to ,i le deck, and waa almost mime be as much as your lives are news ireacln diately joined by the boatmen, to whom he briefly from the main current of the^iio-for newsreach made ^ own hi / ho pes and fears. . , . fnim the main Current of , , ed ub only the other day, that many They thought, like their companion, that the boat attacked this spring, and several lost, n ith all on wonl(1 J be saf ,, gt if made fast to an overhanging limb Board.” . - „f Keniuckv shore: hut frankly admitted that IHSUkQM xaaa® “r*— WOUld DO sweat 11 uiauo board • ,, g. , —.j •kmaVfi.A safo D&s* of the Kentucky shore; but frankly admitted that “No one feels more concerned about the sale pas couldnotnowbe done without difliculty and dan- gage of Miss Bertrand than myself, replied Eug'^ie. d therK was a po.s-ibility of keeping the cur- ina deferential tone; “and since our arrival Here, l a have left nothing undone that I thought might possi- m((ke lhat possibility a certainty, and it shall bly add to her security and comfort. be best night’s work you ever performed!” re- “ That is true, to my personal knowledge, joined * in a quic k, excited tone, in the uncle o; Blanche; '•“d J thank y ou ’ ‘ f - “We'll do the best wo can, Cap’n,” was tho re- EiUrfax, in behalf of my fair kinswoman. Uk-]"- sponso; -but uo man can be sartinof the current of will, perhaps,” he -pursued, be no greathis here crooked stream in a foggy night.” night or day: and do not, I most solemnly cnargo '* whl ,n suddenly, our young commander, “!?iXuft rt nok” ^rf the commander of the “Quick, here, boys ! we're agm too shore, as sure Point; “I believe you are all faithful;and tree: men, as ^ h fo „ owed a gcene of burned an anxious con- Understand ^ThedTil’a in if.! she’s running.m.roimdbereona ^Tln/them^h-ea as having just escaped from the muddy bottom ! almost yelled a third. Indians, and beg of you, tor the love ot' God, in the Meantime the laden boat was brushing nlong m. mj-t mns t oiteous tones, to .come to their relief; but turn projecting bushes and overreaching limbs, and c :ery \ deaf cTr to themUo each and all of .hem-even Ino.nent getting more and more entangled, while the should vou know tire pleaders to be of yotir own km; i (in g poles and sweeps of the boatmen, as they at- for in such a case your own brother might deceive tempted to push hex off, were often plunged, without vmi—not wilfully and voluntarily, perhaps—but be- touching bottom, into what appeared to be .'•••. cause of being goaded on by the savages, themselves c i a ey ln ud, from which they were enco ded. Yes, such things have been known as by FU nh an outlay of strength as tended stilt »,e to destruction j^and^o'be^auUous^v^nant'brsveand ^d^At £? d ^ KOOd flod kwp you !J1 £rum • ... . " nm -“.a The lact was announced by Dick V> inter, in In Jtohe finished speaking, Blanche proceeded to take an affectionate leave of all, receiving manv a tender message for her parents from those who held them ip love and veneration ; and the boat swung out, and began to float down with the current, now fairly en tered upon the most dangerous portion of a long and penloiis jourm y. (; 0 i 0ne i Philip Bertrand, was a native of Virginia, aud a descendant of one of the Huguenot refugees, who fled from tlieir native laid after the revocation of the edict of Nanism 1665 He had been an officer of some note during the Revolution-a warm political and personal friend of the author of the Declaration of aud a gentleman who had always stood high rn the esteem of his associates and coternpor.ir ^ . Though at one time trand had lost much, w*®" hf . rtly af[er the dole British invasion, j tb a few "more serious re wSS* ‘"Mgiilgil _ie°hei, 1 F' 11 ' We.-' ■ mid as M- wiI- it •'! j accompanying him on ni> i.m tom;. , liL-r desire, on erudition that lit.un i ft among her friends, till stu-li tune as: s prepared which might in moo- j e .lereii a tit abode for one so caretuuy nteil i phi ould That tho matter was cue to he viewod ta a very sen- ““ThEet over the bow, and try to git the lay of the land with my feet," said Tom Harris; and forthwith bo set about the not very pleasant undertaking At this moment Eugene heard his name pronounc ed by a voice that seldom failed to ex» ite a ]•• ctoiar emotion in his breast, and now sent astraug 11,11 through every nerve; and hastening b-.ow, he found Blanche, fully dressed, who a light in her hand, standing just outside d b-r cabin in it- -• gug or passage which led lengthwise through the copter oftlioboat. S “I have heard something. Eugene,” she said, •'enough toknow that we have me: with an r.ecid-nt but not sufficient to fully compr diend its, nature • rnfortt-nately, about two hours, ago, ’ r< ; bed i-s ,. . .. -w- udd'-nly became involved in a *i“i - ' ■ "ml inspire of our every piecnutii.t. and cur”- have ruu a ground—it may be against lhe t’h-o si ore T in ,v lx* :iir.Tinst nu lsl ind— -\t is * 1 * 1 -- . 1 - «■»»-"«>'-rtsrt ,t tlie il.irknt -s is slide id tender!’. Blanche would gladiv in iut on this point ner lath ■r had b ■ith her p sn inexot .rent: ible— ly sdded ; “I tr though in any evi 1 us from tin vicinity.” •1 know little of I I have always unde markable for tlieir acuteness oi there would be nonet “'‘quaint a fraii i eist re. iu : '.v; I B1 til'