Newspaper Page Text
Mile s’til CaMmet.
VOL. If.
THE CABINET |
Is published every Saturday b }\ j,
HOBIASO.Y, fVarrenton , Geo. at
three dollars per annum , which may he
discharged by two dollars and fifty
cents if paid within sixty days of the
time of subscribing.
Advertisements conspicuously inserted at
seventy five cents per square for the
first insertion, and fifty cents for each
subsequent insertion Monthly inser
tions charged as new advertisements
Advertisements not limited when hand
ed in , will be inserted until forbid, and
charged accordingly.
jjitn —~i- - mmmmmem
s'-uiu .’i.e American Traveller.
The Wandering Red Man of
the Miami .
Arid oft, as Gvening‘B sh; (!e fell od the
plain,
An aged Red Man met the Hunter‘s
gaze,
liisttti it>g intently to the night bird‘s
. strain,
Or musing o‘er the deeds of by gone
cLye;
Serming, in lock, a man of care and
grief,
To whom no change save death) could
g vo relief.
A tail, athlttic white man, as the sun sunk
8? wiy behind the western forest shade,
was seen to enter a lonely cabin, upon
the woody shores of the Miami) lot he
had l ardly thiown off his hunting appara
tus, b fore the horrid war-cry of the
bloody Sioux struck upon his ear/ and
soon a numerous band of that ferciouos
tribe branded like startled deer through
flail burner of hss dwelling.
Here, howi ver, they met with an un
friendly reception/ for soon the shaip re
port * f the II unter‘6 rifle, announced the
departure ( I one red chieftain spirit to
the hunting-grounds of die blest. ‘J hey
then bound him and departed to
wards the setting sun, and on the evening
of the succeeding day, drew near to the
village of the tribe. Here they halted,
at and sent a deputation forward to inform
the chiefs of their return There imme
diately returned, and soon the whole par
ty brgran to move. The whippoorwills
plaintive note was heard from ihe other-’
wise silent wilderness, as the village ex
hibited a long dark rovy of swarthy old
mn, squaws and children, who lined
both sides of the open trail: and upon see
jng ihetr well known friends screamed
out with horrid yells; One singularly
dressed equaw, (Hie wife of the fallen
chief, tore handfuls from her uisshevelled
locks, while she laid her flesh open to the
hone, with a sharp instrument, howling
throughout the operation, the death song
of the Sioux Troops; not upon seeing the
white hunter, as he run the gauntlet, she
caught a hatchet from the hands of a
young warrior, and gave the victim a
deep°wcund on the thighjt then pressing
the crimson fluid to her lips, she retim
ed the instrument-to its owner, and sh*k
inw her finger at the hunter, v i'll a hollow
laugh, entered a neighboring logdc, while
the hunter was conducted to prison. A* e
the first rays of morning gleamed upon
the hills, the hunter saw through ihe cre
vices of his prison, numerous* swarthy
chieftains moving am’.d (he vistas of the
forest towards the council tire efiho 11 be.
Half an h(-r more passed, and the lum
ter, tortured with suspense, turned fiom
the openings in his apartment, anil threw
himself upon the boughs of ph.e, “huh
composed his bed At that instant he
heard a rustling ontside. and immediate
]v a window opened, from what hereto
fore, appeared to him to be so!id log-,
thn ugh which a young Indian n aiui n*
tertdT She at once with a sharp kmfe.
severed the withes that confined hisarim
41 and set them at liberty. She placed lie?
band upon her breast,and lifting In re\ es.
uhile a deep sigh burst from her bps, sflib
jn ihe hunter‘9 tongue,
*i he Sioux chiefs have doomed three
to te burned; but ihe Sicux maiden love*
the pale chief. She has set him at liberty
w h the pale, in return, let the Light
live ut> £is wig-wauH*
‘G-ul knows f -.vill,’ cried the hunter,
in ectacv, ‘The pale chief will not he,
like i he French dogs.*
Ti is enough,’ tried the maid. Then
tuning,she blew a small iom!, and soon
dine sav g s ei tend, bcarirg ea h a
k i.apsatk, pun, and other equipments tor
a match. She poii ted to a heap ot dry
drift weed, which die savages’ quickly
auv ed, and hai ii<d the hunter his tiusty
litie. and a knap>atk well lind with pro
visions. Jh oy then assisted the maiden
to climb to the window, and she was soon
safe on the other side, followed by the
hunter and the Indians, who sttuck off in
to a lonely and tugged trail/ and were
soon far from the Sioux lodge. And when
the evening shades settled down upon the
leafy forest, they reached a Chippewa
village.
Here, upon declaring themselves to a
French Jesuit, who married them, they
were received wi th open arms by the
chiefs, who gave them a beautiful hut on
the borders of a pleasant stream, and bade
them live in safety. The white man soon
became a favorite with the Chippewa
chiefs, and one morning, against the wish*
PS of this loveley wife, joined a hunting
expedition towards the west;
Three tedious weeks rolled away, and
naught was heard of the little hand/ but
on the evening of the Ift day of the 4th
week, an Indian runner, breathless with
haste, entered the village, and soon com
municated to the maiden, the unwelcome
news of her husband being captured, and
doi med to deaih, by a party of her incens
fdnation. She spoke not but stood mo
tionless for a long time/ then, as though a
sudden rey of hope had dispelled the
melancholly forebodings of her imagina
tion, she departed towards die West,
with the utmost secrecy/ aud in the course
of the rnxtday stood on a h'gh ascent,
which overlooked the village of the Sioux.
Loud war whoops now fell upon her ear,
pending hack the watm blood to her heart.
She Jnokcd again towards the village, and
perceived a prisoner led out, and bound to
the horrid stake. She uttered a faint
scream, sod darting down the hill, with the
rapidity of the eik, entered the circle, and
ihievv herself upon her husbands neck,
“ The squaw of the pale chief, will die .
with iwin,’ said the maiden, in answer to i
her husbunti‘3 reproof tor seeking him.
The eyes oi the painted warriors glis
tened with the tears of admiration, at this
token of love; but their heaits were soon
changed to stone by the hoarse voice of
their chieftain, commanding them to eing
the war song of the Sioux, as he advanced
with his lifted tomahawk towards the pris
oner. For a moment he gazed upon the
huntei‘s features, and then with a horrid
denunciation, let fall the glittering hatchet
—but the maiden sprang forward and re
ceived the blow.—-Then with an angelic
smile, she pressed the hand of her hus
band, and fell lifeless into the arms of her
agonized father. The chief cast one
solitary look towards the remains of his
once lovely daughter, then bidding the
1 hunter depart in safety to the larfd of his
! fathe?s, he busied his bead in his blanket,
and was ltd by the young warriors to his
lodge.
; 1 lie hunter, after shedding tears of
deep sonow over ihe Light Fawn‘s grave
returned to the settlements * I the whites
on the shores of the Atlantic, while the
Sioux Chief wandered forth upon the
banks of the Miami, an unhappy in mac.
And oft in after years, as the whites passed
ly a lone hut, on the banks of the Miami,,
ot evt ning’s silenthour a strange red man j
with hi.', flesh torn by the sharp tl ores of j
die thickets, and pointing towards a lock;
ofiiivtii iiair, which hui:g by his Mile,
then, uttering h hideous yell svould bound J
into the gloomy forest, startling the rav-j
enoue wild t from her prey, and ieav mg
the s • angers to pursue their loute, unable 1
to Icf.i n wluu he was save that he bore j
among th w liite hunters .tire nppt liation j
1 r.f the Handcimg lied Alar: of tac Miami.;
But at length, an aged rqu.dtc r passed I
aUmg, an.d w as recognized by me chief as!
his son in law, 1 fee chieltaii)‘s icason
returned, as he led Ihe hunter to ins hut;
and there they bud) lived, and hunted the]
red jJeor over the pranes of ihe West; or
fished ler tho silvery sstrrcir, iu o*9 wa-j
Warrenton, Hay I, 1830.
.tors oi the neighboring river. While vis
j R |,; g this ancient hut, some few years
i since, this manuscript was found by
J. E. D.
Frpm the Constellation.
WHO IS A GENTLEMAN ?
1 lie answer to this question, among
Americans, depends generally upon
the condition, feelings and particular
mode of thinking, of those who under
lake to answer it; and consequently,
he who is very much of a gentleman
in the estimation of one person, is no
gen tic in ait at all in the opinion of an
other.
A gentleman, in the estimation of
mine host, is one who calls freely
for all the good things appertain
ing to the bar, the wine cellar and
the table, pays his bill punctually,
w ithout disputing the items or the pri
ces; and speaks of flattering terms of
every thing about his landlords pre
niises, from the beds in the attic to
Betty in the kitchen.
With waiters and ostlers, a gentle
man is one flush of his cash; who after,
having paid their master as much as
their services are worth, pays them
four times their value into the bargain.
—“ Mabsa Dash,” says Cuftee, he be
‘one real gemman: he gib me half a
dollar for brush his boots, tree quarter
dollar for hold his boss, and whole
dollar for collin’ him gemman. And
he be a first rate gemman—no mis
take.
A gentleman, with Dolly, the cham
bermaid, is one who says a soft thing
to her, praises her looks, compares
her cheeks to the demask rose, her lips
to red cherries, eyes to the planet Ve
nus, and her waist to an hour glass;
and who to prove the sincerity or his
soft nothing, gives her occasiually a
sly kiss, a gentle squeeze of the baud,
and a bright silver dollar.
A dandy<B estimate of a gentleman,
is based o<. a foundation peculiarly hia
own. He is not a creature who has
any thing to do with money, sense,
feeling, flesh, or blood. He is wholly
a facticious animal, made up by the
tailor, the seamstress, the cordwaincr,
the hatter and the corset manufactur
er. Ho is to be sure, a creature that
walks, talks, and eats; bud he does all
these from no ordinary motive. He
walks merely to show his gentlemanly
figure: he talks only because ho never
thinks—and he eats for the same rea
son that his tailor uses padding, viz: to
fill out his propos tions.
With a duelist, he is no gentleman
who refuses to fight a duel. He may
enact as many villainies as he pleases;
lie may seduce the weak, betray the
confiding, cheat the honest, and mur
der the uninteresting—all these do not
detract one whit from his gentlemanly
pretensions. But if he refuses to stand
up and be shot at, he is no gentleman*
Having complied with this requisite,
he is a gentleman every inch of him,
adultery, treachery and murder to the
contrary notwithstanding.
With “good society ” people, he
only is a gentleman, whose ancestors
!we 1 e gentlemen before him- Who can
enumerate a long line of forefathers
| and foremothers; or who according to
the idea of Franklin, left off their red
1 woollen shirts and lirisey woolsey pet
jtifoals, at least one generation sooner
; loan their plebeian neighbors. In
short, in the opinion of good ‘society’
;ihc term gentleman has bo reference
[to \\ hat a man himself is, but to what
I his ancestors have been,
Wilh the gay Miss who never
breaths freely except in the atmos
j phci e of folly and show, a gentleman
!is or.t who exerts himself to promote
her wishes; who gallants lit rto thea-
Uitj&i b&JIs and sjeigh rides; who neg-
; lects his busir<eßs to aticiM • he-, a*
musements; who spends his mei> to
advance her pleasures; who in a woi r f
is pretty much, if not altogether, a la
dy *s man.
But with th young ldy*s n-iidin
aunt, a staid gentlewoman of f v ty,
th* gentleman is still different per
sonage, He is the essence of resp- 1 1-
ful attention; and does not indicate by
word, look, or action that he suspects
her of being older than she whs once,
or that he prefers the company of
younger Misses
With old ladies of Revolutionary
times, a|gentleman is < ic who wears a
ll ree cornered heaver; has his l air
tied behind, aid powdered all over;
and Ins shirt ruffled at the wrist; who
wears short small clothes, and long
waistcoat with pocket flaps; who
wears silver buekles that reach from
side to side of his well shaved shoes;
who walks with a gold headed cane;
and who in his manners, neglects no
item of the ceremony of olden time.
The pit-a pat heart, of a susceptible
girl of sixteen, tell her that a gentle,
man, is a tall fellow, with a fine mili
tary cap on his head, a blue coat turn
ed up with red facings, a sword by his
side; a neat pair of whiskers, a mean,
tired step, and a * How do you do my
(harming Miss ? You are the loveli.
est creature 1 ever behelu—opon my
soul you are ! ’’
M iss Phillis too—she has her gem
man; And he be brack a mart, trait as
a lamp post, will witc teeth, roily eye,
shiny skin, flatty foot, plumpy lip,
broady nose—a nigger who wear a
read coat, be de color what it wih; who
fiddle lice Polio, dance like Frcn li
man, make two free bow in a minute,
and say “ O lodrly Miss Phillis,
your unpalatable beauty hab set my
heart on fire. O glue pot!”
Among fox hunters a gentleman is a
fellow who can leap a five barred gate,
jump a twenty foot ditch, thread the
windings of a forest at full gallop,
smell the tract when the hounds are at
fault, be the first at the death of Rey
nard, dip the brush in a bowl of punch
and drink the washing of fox tail.
With a country housewife, he is
every bit of a gentleman, who praises
her domestic accomplishments; extols
her cookery, admires the neatness of
her house, and pats the heads of her
children; who prefers molasses to su*
gar in sweetning 10 flee; eats sour
bread without a wry face; despatches
the worst article on her table with the
best relish; rises at the crowing of the
cock—cashes his face at the pump,
instead of disarranging her ewer arid
basin, which are kept tor show.
A sailor*s gentleman is a bit a of
tar. He is a man who can box the
compass; knot, splice, hand reef and
steer; who can run aloft with the nim
bleuess of a cat, and keep his footing
ori a rope, as fearless as a spider in his
web. Who recks little wheter he
sleeps in his hakmmock, or on the round
top, or at the bottom of the ocean; who
fears neither storms nor billows, nor
a hostile sail; who cares uot a groat
lor money—whoso hand is even open
at the cry of distress; who loves hie
wife next to his ship; cannot abide a
fellow, who comes in at the cabin win
dow; hates meanness, and dispjseg
a land lubber.
In the opinion of some, no man i9 a
gentleman who is not rich; and his
gentility is accounted exact propor
tion to the number, quality, and value
of his houses lands and stocks.
in the estimation of others, no mao
can be a gentleman, who does not keep
his carriage, live in splendour, and
makes a good deal of show.
But it would be endless to enumer
ate the different opinions, which go tp
%o, 4