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the swollen water!of the Chto aiiJfourui it
t txWnw wa< darkewEAr ,-i.fl
in gloomy silence he stood for a u.< im nt
undetermined, then liH’ ; y a>se!nbliii|t his
warrior®, h“ intimattd kis intei;!i->'i oi n
mairirg until the n“*i n ; ~b .by wlm.li tin t
they tould ho prejjiio'il to ttc.
As before, tiie prisoners won- ; !a <-•! ..;
ttSmeTßisTiTiiCe from the no- o ! >". ii.<
Indiar.*, and were guarded h> the s. ine tail
warrior. The night b« r. v .arm, ad r;.•
myon partially iij. ding u, t e iiarhm
tKc forest, many .f t’.e » arrm* wr* *..*t
-ttroil here at., thei t.trough the w. ~0.
li*- >
hunting, and ho a t* w ii t .tt th ir hi'l
leo.tti upon their ; .ai.ht ii !:■’ mooli
shone steadily t..e;i arnu, an i forest am:
wave wet.- ' tied in her light. It was mid
night. ~:ul tiie moan of the winds and tin
f,, j 'rat da j*i *>f ualer-, were lite only sounds |
that disturbed iut awful silt ure. Overcome (
(.j fatigue, the guard otiee more slumbered j
sit his past. The ,i iso tiers alone slept not, ,
lor L tura haJ whispered to her father hopes
of escape.
There was a slight rusting in the Lushes
that sprung up near the spot, and the next
moment the tall form of an Indian stood in
the calm, clean moon-light. lor an instant
lie ga/.eri around him, then striding hastily
■forward, he touched the prisoners both at
on;e; they started to their feet, and the
young Oswone, silently motioning them to
follow, led the way np the darkened shores
of Licking. The desire of escape gnv.
new strength to father and daughter. Kap
inly they thridded the fore-t aisles, and al
ready, in tl e perspective, they once inor
■beheld their friends. Hut what was their
'terror*—how were their hopes dampened,
'when the distant crack of a rifle lell upon
their ears, almost immediately followed by
the yells of the Indians, so startling, so
hideous, that Hell itself seemed to have
peopled that lonely spot with its detnous !
Despair urged ou Ihe terrified fue“;?<*B--
and the active Oswone, their uuide, seemed
to move as a spirit through he tall weeds
llut it was in vain! Upon all sides. nearer
and nearer, swelled the horrid yells ol the
savages, and soon was heard their rapid
tramn through the underwood. Oswone
perceived his own danger, and hastily tur
ning to the terrified Courtney, lie exclaim
ed. “Father, it is in vain to fly ! Suffer
yourself to be taken 1 will hasten back,
if lif* is given me, we will yet succeed. Os
wonc will not forsake you.”
As he spoke he darted down the steep
shore of the Licking, and under cover of
the thick shade he rushed toward the month ;
meanwhile, a long and joyous yell echoing
along the river told him that the prisoners
wer* retaken.
The unfortunate Courtney and his daugh
ter were recondueted To thespot from which
they had fled. Oneko’s joy knew no hounds;
arid his loud demon like laughter, as lie
'beheld them once more in his possess on,
made the dark forest ring. But while yet
it reverberated in the distance, an Indian,
who had wandered far from his comrades
rushed up breathless, and staggering toward*
the chieftain, pointed wildlv in the direction
whence he came. Oneko understood him.
The pursuers were on the trail and were
rapidly approaching ! lie started—bis eyes
blazon, and a terrible expression distorted
his features as, hastily or lering his warrior*
to be on their guard, he strode, tip to Court
ney. He grasped the old man by the wrist
and dragged him to the bluff. M fid with
terror Laura Courtney rushed after them.
Oneko and his prisoner stood upon t..e
bluff; the former, with his dark counten
ance lighted up with a ~mi!e of fiendish
trijrnph, gazed fixedly upon the pale old
man. The chieftain broke the silence.
“Paleface !” said he, “Oneko is rev»n«e
full The Great Spirit has heard fhv In
dian’s oath—and. th. u a<t doomed If
Oneko Las burned the wigwams—kill i
the wives and the children, and destroyed
the villages of the white m in. ibiui, old
man, art the cause' TiKren' .>* faced
warrior of the Long • li*ten to the
taie of Oneko He w,.. once a father—l e
■once had a son, beautiful as the eye of the
Great Spirit, and brave as the warrior <e a
hundred battles. The Eternal smiled tt;i<n
the son of Oneko. But soon Lis smile was
darkened ; and Oneko heard in the clouds
his warning voice. The chiettam !>’i! m
warriors to battle ; he led them to p torn,
the graves of their fa'h- t and to drive the
wvhite robbers from their lands. His sou
was with him, but Oneko, did not think that
the Long Knife* aired with chi'dren. Old
man! he was mistaken! Hie lea ler ol
the pale faces saw my boy : he iisln-d upon
him, and Oneko was childless' My son
’the hope of toy agi . my beautiful,
my half-fledged eaglet died. Seventeen
winters have chilled the blood of the child
less chieftain, -nd Oneko lias cur.srd the
white men. He It:..*, ravaged their 'and* —
destroyed their settlements, and murdered
their wives and chlidr- n ; and thou, thou
old man, art the cause! There where yon
Fort stands, was the blood of my hoy shed,
and there would Oneko have been deeply
revenged, bat die ..' Cursed race has foiled
me!”
As yet he spoke, the rapid tratnp oi horses,
mingled with shouts, heralded the approach
of whites.
“See,” said Oneko, “my pursuers are
upon me. but their coming is vain!”
“Four son lives!” ciied Courtuey with
energy.
“L’ar !” cried Oneko, “thou canst not es
cape thus easily. Oneko will nut die un
revenged. May the curse of the childless
Indian be told in this!”
There was a crash, a groan, and the warm
blood of tbe unfortunate Courtney, as he
sank to the ground, gushed up into the face
of tha chieftain. The deadly tomahawk
had been dashed into the old man’s brain.
With a long, wild and soul-startling scream,
Laura flung herself upon the bloody corse.
'Oneko stood gazing with horrid delight
'upon the scene, and still the shouts of the
horsemen each moment swelled louder on
theair. No time was to be !n«t. He strode
up to the maiden, and seizing her long
dishevelled hair, dragge I her to her knee.
Her featmes were deadly pale and rivalled
in whiteness the full moon which shed its
silver radiance around; her large dark eye
was upturned and her small hand wire
clasped in prayer. The blood) weapon was
swung in the air; it glittered a *n« moon
light; and circling the head of the chief, it
was about to descend, wnen sharp and sud
den she crock of a rifle rent the an, and
O-wonc, the next moment, clambered lip
the side* ot the bluff, * Heko staggered and
•reeled. At this mom-nt the ..lutes cam- j
in full view, and swept like 'he wind upon
•he orlm body of ’he Indians, who received
timm warmly, and a fierce contest erjsued.
The desire of completing ins reveogq seemed
to rrnerve tne wounded and bleeding One
bo, and h”. with a last and powerful effb.t,
*|W4tJ o*e* |i»k towards tlisfam'ing Lau
r*. llj* hatchet wa* tmiscd ant e more in
tbe air, aud once inure circling his head—it
glittered for » laoment. then, with too te
fortty of bghtjnipg it fell upoji .tl** proles
'll1 * bosom of f/tunmo. T bk blood poarod
fonh fro ii t’»e horrid gash, and Oneko shud
■ ‘eiiii. lint- and fell with a groan upon the
extreme edgeol the biutf. t l-WOIW, though j
morlallv »• imtleri, r i il inmsell troin the
sentelcsS lorm ol Laura and led turward j
near tin- Ot.er.o.
The i lioilaili hail nosed him-elf and
snukc to the dyui- youth. Oswm. start and
no aid ' luting to the body of CoUitliey
n ie-'. « “ti a convulsive < Sort,
.•(•i,n ! that oid nitii was a father to
me. \V . ! •■* ' mere boy he *..v dmy
i iiot'ie. and Ir *sin . rc ni-d n*.-. I—l
I vi' 1 not die
HI tuli-* I .'' *. Us-aliV fell hack. Ills bl£ Ifit i
1„ .... . - odgi -had forth ll iae violent- !
Iv. ;dt* a ‘.or: Struggle lie expired.
•Hi ” ' i-pett Oneko, iiv Q*.voie re:i*eti
r| • ai.iug. “Great Spirit of niy i.ice'” he
. o.itiimed. as tearing tin bln he from .i>e
Lie ist of the youth. If beh Id a well known
sear. “Oneko .as .ii ,i a I’c-i Ills Ild *on
With a vie.e nUor :ie slagere Ito Ins knee,
ai 1 raising body ol his son g i/.ed lutent
lv upon it
In tin 1 mean tune, the Indians had been j
routed, and thr greater part ol the whites
were in pursuit of the fugitives. One of |
tie t irse.neii.ihc lei ler of the troop,flinging
himself from iu< stee I rushed to the iilulf,
an ! wit ' the wi diry of horror t iie nloody
spect.nrli*. raised tin' senseless i.alira 111 his
ar ,s. 11“ called wi!.!!: on her name. She
revved ad gazed vacantly around. Her
eve rested for a mo ei t u.mii the kneeling
Oneko and then wander and to the features
of the youth who supported her. Nile
started —gazed wildly upon hint, and utter
ing the name of “Butler.” sin- sank hack
into his arms. Butler then consigning iter
to one of his companions, w o had just ap
proachi and, strode rapidly towards Oim ko.
The chieftain raised ids head at the sight of
Butler; he started.as ;f anew strut;gfh bad
been imparted to his limbs; he artfSC with
the body of his ton. An im nrtitly fire
|,,.})te'i Uj his eye already glazed by the
hand of death. (Te lp jr r.? once upon the
waters bene, thhim;»rn mo’e iipen tin white
man. then clasping more tii>idly the dead
Oswone, with a yell of wild defiance, he
plunged! There was a sudden splash!
Butler gazed far a moment from the bluff,
but all was placid. The uniting waters of
the Licking and “La B. ll* liivere" had
closed forever over the forms of th- Indian,
father and son. locked in tiie embrace of
death !
From 'iie i\'ew Yo'k Spirit oj the Times.
PETE WHETSTONE’S LAST
FROLIC.
Devin’s Fork of I.ittlk Rf.d, )
January 9,1839. £
Mr df.ar Mr. Editor:—Since the last
time I writ you, I have had ail sorts ol tim s ;
I took atrip away out South. Well, when
I got to the Roes. I was In a big hurry t«*
keep on. so I walked up early in tiie morn
mg to Goodrich and Loomis, thinking i
would r; out in a si t ot their best, but
they ha I'n! opened their store, so 1 steps
into a another, and bought tne a pair of red
broadcloth britches. The fellow measured
me, ..nd put up a pair that he said would fit
me to a shaving. So I stuffs them into iny
saddle hags, an I put to South. Well, when
I gets out, I was asked to a party, and I
rigged inyselfup; hut oh, *urily, my b'eeches
were big enough for the*fat man « hat was
hlowed up in the steamboat. 1 had my gal
lowses up to the last notch, hut it would’ut
all do, lor 1 could have carried a grist of corn
in them niihout stretching the doth. 1
hard'v knew what in do; iny old britches
wool !’nt .1 * at all. » and my new ones hung
like • <•!. a ena h m-pole Thinks 1, there
is no r .die for Pete; hut just right at this
time in pops Major Greene. “Well,” says
h ■ “Kurnel. aint you ready to go ?” Says
TANARUS, “I am thinking 1 won’t go. ’ “Why
says he. “Look at my bittchcs,” says 1.
Well, lie comm meed langhi ig ; says he,
“Them brit'-he- were made for Daniel Lam
bert.” "Well,” says I, “D ' i iLa ii'ie t i
a stranger to me, but I know ti ey r a ; re ty
loose lit.” “Oh, never mind them.” say*
he ; come go. and nolmdv will notice them. '
8o I went. I found lots of civ/de. and an
abundance of pretty gals. Well, there was
r.o darning, and the folks were all sitting
round the room; so I slips in a corner,
thinking 1 would hide iny britches. I’re
sent I v some entleman a*'aed a lady to sing;
so up she gits and he leads h-r to some
thing ill the cover, that looked like the
nirest kind of n v t*’ Wdi, she opened
the lid, and it was right chile's full of horse
teeili; sheju-i run lo r liaml acioss them.
1 never heard such i nows.in di iny life. I
whisj ere.pto she next fellow to me. and
as!;« i what sort nf a varmint th it was !
i “Why. Kurnel.”- y I; . ‘ that v a pe-an
tiy.” Well, th'* vonng ladv co nmencrtfl.
| and I never heard such singm. I for c:
my britches and started to w . ', ( 'o-eupto
tiie pc ativ. "hen 1 heard them tittering.
•Daniel Lambert,” says one—then I k’u-w
they we>e fu:_lung at ntv britches So I
feels my dander rising, and began to get
mad; I walked right up. bold as a sheep
There was a sort of a dandy looking genius
Standing by the pc-annv. S'ays he. “Now
do, Miss, f-vorus with that delight'ul little
ditty • my favorite; you know it.” Then
sh“ commet red.
“When the P.eliv ikeris hearn over the sen
I’ll dance the Ronny aket by moonlight with
thee.”
That is all l recollect. When she cot
through up steps M ijor Green, and intro
duces me to her Says she, (and 1 teil voii
| she looked pretty.) “Col. Wiietston-, what
is vittr favorite?" Says I, “Suit vourself
| and von soft me.” And that made her
! laugh WeTI, right ,»t that, up steps a fel
| low that looked as if lie had been sent tor
and conld’nt go. Says he. “Miss, will von
give tne “the last link i* broken !”—“Why.”
snvs she “indeed, sir, 1 have the most wretch
ed cold in the world.”—Why. Mtss/'savs I
“you wouldn't call yours a bad cold it von
had seen Jim Cole niter he lay out in tiie
swamp and rntched cold.” “Why,” says
she (and lord, but she looked killing.) “how
bad was his eold ?” “Whv, 'tiss,” says I,
‘he didn’t quit spitting ice till the middle of
August.” That made her laugh. “Well,”
says she. Kurnel Whetstone, that cures my
cold.” So she commenced.
“The last link i ; broking that hinds you to
tne,
“The words you have spoken is sorry to L”
Well, arter the lady was over, they all
went into supper; lot-of good thing*. 1
sStnexrto a yourrg }:tdy. ami 1 heard them
saying, “Mi. s, with your permission, I'll
take a piece of the turkey,” and I sees
a plate of nice little pickles.—“ Miss, with
your, permission, I’ll takes pickle,” and she
said I might do so. 1 reached over and
dipped up one on my fork—it was small;
ami l put the whole of it in mj mouth.
Oh, lordy! but it burnt; —well, the more I
chawed the worse it was. Thinks 1, if I
swallow, lam a hnrtit koon. Well, it got
too hot for human natur to stand; so says
L “Miss, with your permission. I’ll lay this
pickle back,” ami i spit it out. Oh. lordy’
.what laughing. “Eftcu** me, ladies, if |
have done wrtflsg,” I “MHlpm pckleDi
too hot for the devil’s Fork.” Every body
seemed to take the thing in good part, but
I our chap; says lie, "I uevr seed sjch rude
[ behavior in all niv life.” At that 1 turns
1 tennd to him ; I, “Look here. Mister,
j if vull don’t like the smell ol fresh bread,
mu nd better quit the bakery.” Well, I
telly ou. tu.it shot up his fly-trip quick.—
Vr'ci simper the party broke up. Oh, con
| found the britches! I wish the fellow that
: mad • t ,ein could Lp fed on cloth for twelve
| motn: *. Even the little boys make fpn ot
: them, for 1 heard on singing
■ M'ster, Mister, who made your britches?
i Dadd* cut them out, and mammy sowed
the stitches.
Ever votirs,
1-ETEII WHETESTO>».E.
“You Know,"— A great help to conver
se. it i.-„ “you know.” More periods are
rou ded off with “yon know,” than you know ■■
ab«iit: but the worst of it is that this phrase i
is li quently addressed to people who do not >
know. Nevertheless, it answers to stretch,
out conversation, and to a bashful man or i
in e p-essed for ideas it is invaluable.-—Some
times these two important words may be
n*ed in a somewhat ludicrous conversation.
We were once riding in a stage coach.—
Now we arc as silent as the little man with
the short face when we are travelling; and
save a seautan fresh from the ocean—stran
ger by the bye, that any thing fresh should
route from so salt a place—we were the on
ly masculine gender in the carriage. Se
veral young ladies made up the compliment
As we said nothing, the sailor very natural
ly made a few observations, tolerably well
spiced with oaths and such words as have
long since been outlawed by “goodsociety.’
The ladies were not accustomed to hear
such language, and being rcligous withal,
they leh it their t 0 jpyt that the Scrip
ture forbade swearing, and recommended
Jack to nut himself ituder the care of rev
erend Mr. Taylor. Jack took it all in good
part, begged pardon, and was so gallant with
al that the dames were very well satisfied he
meant no harm, and there a conversation en
sued. The la lies became curious about
nautical affairs—or pretended so—in grati
tude for Jack's humility and .teachableness.
Lady. 1 should think you would feel af
raid at sea, when the wind (flowed hard and
waves ran mountains high.
Jack, Oh, no ma’am. \v e shorten sail,
you know ; and then we go below and turn
in till our watch is called, you know.
Lady. Turn in! what is that?
Jack Into our bunks, you know. We
get all sung, you know, and then it don't want
many hands to look out for the vessel, and
then we take a snooze, you know,
Now the young lady did not know any
such thing, and looked, when the talking,
very much as if she was listening to a Greek
oration, which it would be vulgar not to, un
derstand. Another lady here struok in-f
Lady, I have often thought I should like
to take a voyage to sea.
Jack There’s nothing easier—though
vou would he green, you know.
L uly. Green, sir!
Jack, You conhl't expect full pay, you
know If you want to go a vovage, the way
to do is to stick up a bright tarpanlin, you
know—get a good chest of clothes and go
down to the wharf, and make a bargain, you
know.
Lady. I don’t know anything about all
that. But what do you do, at sea, when you
ure sick.
Jack. Oh, the captain has a medicine chest
or if you arc on board a manonwar you go
in the sick bag, you know, and put yourse'f
into the hands of loblolly you know.
Having been informed by the sailor that
thevknew everything, the ladies thought it
un ercssary to ask any more questions.—
Whether their vanity was tickled by thcjrep
utation of the peculiar kind of knowledge
with which he was so much disposed to
flatter them, this deponent saitb not. Suf
fice it, that their in errogations ceased with
the last reply. It is hardly likely that they
knew who was meant by the loblolly boy”
—but the words had a queer sound and they
judged that if the sailor imagined they knew
him he must have a queer idea of their sphere
of action.— Beston Herald.
A MONSTER OF THE FIRST WA
TER.
The Boston Times lias a marvel almost ns
wonderful a* the Moon Hoax, though we
would by no means say that there is as lit -
tie f -if ty iu it. The Tinvs says Robert
Lincoln, Esquire, Agent of the New York
\V- stern Lumber Company, has just return
ed front the Saint Peters river, n'tir the
head of steam boat navigation, on the up
per Mississippi, bringing with him a living
.1 mi ian Qurang Out ang. or IVdel Man
ofthe IPods, with two small cubs, sup
posed to be about three months old. The
following is the description of the Times:
••Bv invitation of Mr. Lincoln who is an
old acquaintantance, we went down to his
rooms to examine this monster. Il“ is a
horrid looking creature, and reminds us ve
iv strongly ofthe fabled satyrs, as we have
pictured them to our own mind. He is a
iiottt eight feet three inches high when
standing erect, aud his frame is of giant pro
portions in every part. His legs are not
straight, but like those of the dog and oth
er tour footed animals, and his whole body
is covered with a hide very much like that
of a cow. His arms are very large and long,
and ill proportioned. It does not appear
from his manner that he has ever walked up
on “all fours.”—The fingers and toes are
mere bunches, armed with stout claws.—
Ills head is covered with thick, coarse, black
hair, like the mane of a horse. The ap
pearance of his countenance, if §iich it may
be called, is very disgusting—nay, almost
horrible. It is covered with a thinner and
lighter coat of hairjthan the rest of the bo
dy ; there is no appearance of eye brows or
nose ; the mouth is very large and wide,
and similar to that of a bnbboon. His eye are
quite dull and heavy, and there is no indi
cation of cunning or a activity about them.
Mr. Lincoln, says he is beyond doubt car
nivorous, as he universally rejects bread and
vegetables, aud eats flesh with great av’dily.
lie thinks he is of the ourang outaiig spe
cies hut from the little we have seen, are
inclined to consider him a wild animal
somewhat resembling a man. He is, to say
the least one ofthe most extraordinary crea
tures that has ever been brought before the
public from any part of the earth, or the
waters under the earth, and we believe will
prove a difficult puzzle to the scientific.—
He lies down like a brute, and does not
appear to’possess more instinct than common
domestic animals. He is now quiet fan:*
and quiet, and is only confined by a stout
e.ltain attached to his legs.
This is the first creature of the kind, we
believe, ever found on this continent. It
was to be expected, however, that in pene
trating the remote recesses ofthe new world
monsters found and great natural curiosities
brought to light: and it has been a matter of
surprise many that so little of the moivellous
has ever been discovered. But we cannot tell
what th» wild#, of the far Northwest, the
■chore 0-. Lake tt&hm of ihe
Rocky Mountains, and the vast territory of
the Oregon, may ye* bring forth.”
They will never bring forth a greater lie
than the above account. Ld. yews.
Feminine Heroism. —We have just been
informed, by Major Sitgreaves, tul
lowing tragic occurrence that took place on
Monday night last, near Bloomsbury, War
ren Cos., New Jersey, abuut 8 miles from
Easton ; the particulars of which are as to I
lows: About 9 o’clock on the evening allii
ded, to, a negro slave age I SO years, anti
belonging to Gen. Wjlliatnsou, went to the
house of bis sou. Mi. C. Williamson, who
was from home and having conducted him
self improperly, w.,s ordered from the preui
ises by Mis Williamson, he returned t<>
his master’s re-idence, where he stayed un
til midnight, when Ire again repaired to tic
house of the son, and'demanded admttam i
Mrs. W. commanded him not to enter,
Ifor if lie did. he would jearpardize his life.
He disregarded the threat, forced open the
door, and entered the room, upon which
M*B. W. took up a loaded gun,, which h i
| husband always kept, approaching the tie
gro, who still persisted in endeavoring to
accomplish his wicked design, anil shot him.
The. load enteied his breast, he staggered
backward a few feet, and fell dead on the
floor. The lady is a daughter of Mr Drake
of Washington, Netv Jersey. She was left
alone with her children, in a house located
at some distance from any other, and on
means, hut those made use of, to preserve
her chastity and honor, which were threaten
ed by the slave.— Kistan Sentinel.
THE BENEFITS OF A NEWSPAPER
It is almost impossible to fully appreciate
the advantages to he derived from the cou
stput perusal of a tie wsiw>per. They are so
many, aud the expense of a subscription mi
very inconsiderable, that we are often as
tonished to find, that there are heads offam
ilies who refuse to set aside a pittance of
their ar.nu il expenditures, ot savings for this
laudable purpose.
The perusal of a newspaper not only g:v ( s
activity to the most inert mil and. but in
reading, if awakens reflections, whilst it
greatly augments the stock of ideas. The
human mind in some respects is like a sponge
By reading the various miscellaneous mat
ter contained in a newspaper, it absorbs
views and ideas, without hardly being eon
acious at the time of their importance, but
by the njessure of intercourse with the world
and by conversation the mind gives them
out again in rich variety and with increased
beauty and force. The farmer finds that by
a single hint given in a newspaper upon the
mode of cultivating the soil, he jnay save, la
hour and apply it with treater profit 9
thereby save or make in one year a sum
whit h he otherwise would not have done—
and that snm ma» be sufficient to pay his
subscription of some two or three dollars for
ten er twenty years.
The mechanic may find an article b v which
he may both enlarge his business and econ
omise his labour.
The house-wife may find in a single re
ceipt published in a newspaper, some new
andtmprovcd mode of preparing the article <>l
consumption in her family, which will spare
her much toil, w hilst it may greatly improve
the quality of the necessaries or comforts of
life.
The young members of a family acquire
a taste for reading, and have their minds
expanded and improved when they have an
opportunity of reading a newspaper : for in
an ewspaper they find article on every useful
subject, and acquire a fortaste for Irrwl
edge. They there read sketches of h *'or>
and biography, the sciences and the art*,
mechanics and philosophy, agrirul'nrr and
manufactures, anecdotes, and poetry : in (in
a variety always judiciously select- and to p ve
interest and profit without an abundance
to rause satiety.
If these things are true should not rverv
individual who is able, and all are able, if
they have the desire to make themselves so
subscribe for at least a weekly newspaper
Should they not expend two or three dollars
in a way which will yield them so rich a re
■ward in intellectual knowledge and v is
dont.
We were asked the other day if we could
tell the origin of “all Fool’s Day,” or April
Fool?” which practice of deceiving on tn>-
Ist day of April seems to have been from tinm
immemorial. It appears that the same que -
tieri has been propounded to our contempo
rary of the Macon Southern I'osl. The Ed
itor of that, paper says—”Tlie best account
we aresnabled to find ol the origin of “All
Fooll’s Day,” is a follows taken from the
Encyclopedia Americana;”
“Something similar to April fools, day
ahout the origin of which there are differ
ent oppinious, is said, by Mr. Hammer, to
exist in the East Indies at tbe time of the
Hull feast. This strange custom of April
fools’day prevails throughout Europe, and
in those parts of America which are inhab
ited by the descendants of Europeans. One i
ofthe explanations ofthe custom is as fid- j
lows: In the middle ages, scenes from bi
blical history were often represented by wav j
of diversion, without any freling of impro
priety. Thescene in the life of Jesus where
he is sent from Pilate to Herod, Ar hack
again from Herod to Pilate, was repressent
ed in April and may have given occasion tlf
the custom of sending on fruitless errands,
and other tricks practised at this season.-
'J he phrase of “sending a man from Pilate
to Ilerod” is common inGemianv. tosigni- !
fy sending about unnecessarily. The rea
son of choosing the first of April for the ex- J
hibiton of tliis scene was, that the feast of
Easter frequently falls in tliis month, and
the events connected whth this period ofthe
life of Jesus would naturally afford subjects •
for the spectacles of the season. The tricks I
of the first bf April may, however, be the i
remaius of some Rorni n custom derived •
from the East, and spread over Europe, i
like so many other customs, by these con- !
querors. In Franee the unluky party who j
may be fooled is called unpoisson or jvtisson
(mischief) d' Arvril. In the north of Scot- !
land, he is called a gowk, which signifies, in
the Scotch dialect, a cuckoo.- -Otic of the I
best trick of this description is that nf Label- I
ais, who being at Marseilles without money
and desirous of going to Paris, filled son e
phials with brick dust < r ashes, labelled
them as containing poison for the royal family
of Franco, and pur them where he knew they
wouhlbe discovered. The bait took, and he
conveyed is a traitor to the capitol, where
the Hs< overy of the jest occasioned universal
mirth.”
Praiseworthy Munificence.—- Mr. John
R«x, t tanner, who lately died at RaHgh
directed in his will, that the whole of his
staves, (about 20) should to be sen to Libeya, j
under the patronage ol’the American Coloni
zation Society, and left funds in tbe executors i
haudsto to defray the expenses of the voyage,
and comfortably establish them ou their ar- !
rival in Africa. He also left about §15.000.
to found an Infirmary for the poor srek of
Ra!ri::h, and many other liberal bequests to ,
his relatives. Mr. Rex was a single man j
and k native bf Fennsyfaitib*.— Yngihftnt. 1
FOR THE MIRROR.
WOMAN.
To Mrs ,«/’ Florence.
BT JAMIE.
When the tempest loud roars, aud the storm
God is waging
War with the trembling sea, and his wildest
is raging,
Man meet* the tempest it* its fury, ar.d upon
the foaming sea.
Obeying Woman, tempts the storm ; none
bolder then than he ;
For he knows that Woman's eye is on hint.
anti to quail he may not dare.
He knows of beating In-ait* on shore, ami
that many a fervent prayer.
| From Woim n, r**e> it) to Heaven, in sup
pliancc for him there !
Inspired by her, the Painter’s well sKil 'i!
hand,
Swift o'er tiie canvass glides, and lovely fi .
gore- stand, j
• Living, though wanting life.”- -Fair land
scapes str*-teli -around
The mum uring brook is seen, and fancy
hears the sound—-
The river rushes by, and the hill lifts up his
towering head;
Here f-enzy and despair, hatred, fin and love
or dread.
Almost, by super human art upon the can
vass shine ;
Aud sure it is enchantment. Woman ! that
binding spell of thine!
Ti*e Sculptor, fi-ont his marble, oft-times,
too, has wrought
Bright images of loveliness, with grace and
beauty fraught;
But idle in the quarry, had the marble lain
today.
Were no approving woman there, his labors
to repay,
With a smile as sweet, so fables say. as wo
the (alien Angels down
From their high ’dace in Heaven ; to brave
the Almighty’s frown !
She st eaks, and ’neath some bright ev-d
beauty's spell.
The Port strikes his well loved-lyre ; where
music loves to dwell.
\ nt! each note breath*-* softest h irmonv. am!
every fragile string
Pours forth iis tones of Melody. ’Tis Wo
man bills him sing,
’Tjs Woman bids him touch the lyre---She
may not speak in vain
Lady, 'tis at tliv soft behest, Eve dared thi -
feetd* strain!
From the Jinldn/oie American.
Tiie following remarks, taken from a hit
-ion on the subject of agriculture, hv Mr.
t oleman of the Massachusetts Legislature
deserve the s°rious attention of every prac
tical farmer. As the chief object oi agri
culturists is to produce the greatest amount
possible-of useful vegetable matter, at the
smallest vxoense vnd tbe least extent ol
ground, the (acts here-slated in reference
to the respective value of hay. Indian corn,
c •nets or ruta bar a, arc entiled to much
weight :
“i "’Eh briefly to draw the attention of
farmers to the value of hay, compared with
other crops, for the feeding of stock. A*
acre of hav yields one ton and a half of veg
etahle food. An acre of carrots Swedish tnr
nips, will vie!d from ten to twei ty tons; say
fifteen tons; which is bv no means an exag
gerated estimate. It lias been ascertained
bv experiment, that three working horses
fifif-eii and a half hands high, consumed
it t : , rate oft.vn hundred nod twenty tom
rounds of hay per week, or five tons on<
thou*am! aid forty eight pounds of hay pri
year, besides twelve gallons ol oats each per
week, or seventy eight bushels by the year
An unwoiked hor-e consumed at the rateol
[ four and one-quarter tons of hay in the year
The produce, therefore of nearly six acres
ofland is necessaty to support a working
horse bv the year ; but half an acre of car
rots, at six hundred bushels to the acre will)
the addition of chopped straw, while tin
season for their use lasts, will do as well if
not better. These t ings do not admit of
doubt. They have been subjects of exact
trial.
‘•lt is belived that the value of r. bushel of
Indian corn in straw and meal, will keen a
healthy horse in good condition for work a
week. An acre of Indian corn which yields
sixty bushels will b** ample (or the sup
portofa horse through the year. Let the
farmer, then, consider whether it he better
to maintain his ho se upon the produce of
half an acre of carrots, which can be cnlri
vated ar an expense not greatly exceeding
the expense of half ati acre of potatoes, oi
upon half an acre ofrtUa baga. which cai
be raised at a less expense than potatoes, oi
upon the gr.iinc produce of an acre of In
ilian corn, or on the ether hand, upon the
produce of six acres of his lr.«n land i hay
and grain ; for six acres: will hardly do more
than to yield ncariy six tons of hay and sev
entv eight bushels of oats. The same econ
omy might h<t successfully introduced into
the feeding of our cattle and sheep.
“The<e facts deserve the particular at
tention ofthe farmers who a'-c desirous o!
improving their pecuniary condition. It
is obvious how much would be gained liy the
cultivation which is here suggested; how
much more stock would be raised, how
much the daily produc- might be increas
ed ; and how much the means of enr clitic
the land, and improving the estivation,
would be constantly extending and accum
ulating. But when we find on a farm oftwo
hundred acres, that the farmer cultivates on
ly two acres of potatoes, one acre of ruta
baga, anil perhaps a quarter of an aire of
carrots, we call this “getting along,” in the
common phrase, but we can hardly dignify
t with the name of farming. 1 anr aware
that labor of a proper kind is in m ny cases
difficult t be procured, and with our hab
its, as difficult to be managed. Farming,
likewise, can in few situations he successful
ly managed, unless tire farmer has capital
to employ equal at least, to one year's man
ure, and one year’s crop. A large portion
of our farmers, also, from the nature of their
habits and style of living, arc so prosperous
and independent, that they have no occa
sion to extend their cultivation beyond what
it now is. in or ler to meet their wants and
to incur all the trouble, vexation, and risk of
employing more labor, expending more cap
ital, and increasing their cares.”
Immense claim rtf Property Tt will prob
ably be new to many—it was to us yesterday
morning— a poor journeyman printer,
named Smith Hat-pending, row a*esident of
Tennessee, but formerly of this citv, where
he is well known, has instituted in the U S.
Circuit Court of this district, a claim to an
immense estate in this citv. His action is
brought against “the ministers, elders and
deacons of the Reformed Protestant Dutch
| Church in the city of Iveiv York, and oth
ers; and the estimated value of the proper
| ty he claims is ahout twenty-five millions of
dollars. He makes his claims as heir at law.
in a direct line, to a tract, comprising about
i sixteen acres, hounded by Broadw iyCMairl
: en Lane, Fulton, .Nassau and lohn streets.
The documents dmApriSißg tin hi)) of whfch
Tcopy has beeu sent us, are very volumni
ous, too much so for perusal; and we can of
fei no further evidence of the support they
give his Lun (ban we, ourselves draw from
the known character «t ins eminent counsel
.Messrs. Graham, llotnnau ai. Bamiford.
-A, 1. Sun.
From the .Xetv York Morning Herald.
Abolition Moviijikst.— 'I he annex'd
higidy impi itant cunes) oudei.ee took place
ou Saturday.- It (peaks lor itself:—
AXbi>lC.di iSTI-btAVERI SoCIKNT (
Room
No. 134 Nassau street, f
New York. March 26. 1839. t
James Gorden Bennett—
Dear iSir,- Being a friend of the Ameri
can Anti Slaveiy .Society, the Executive
Committee have instructed us to invite you
to te A its Si th Anniversary to’he held in
I .in* city, on Tuesday the 7th of May next
n toe Broadway- Tabernacle, at 10 o’clock'
A M.
Ihe Committee extend »h»* invitation at
t• | e-< nt time ii i e ec a sen*eot the
impnitaiiceol in* ini .in g .mu witn an ar
dent desire that a full lepresentation trray
be piesent of the sentiments amt w ishes of
abolitionists in all part* ol the country. Not
only ar combinations ol gieat force form
ing against us in church and slate, but thetc
arc some partical questions ot much delica
cy among ourselves, which require to be
carefully and harmuriqui-ly settled, (speci
ally the l est methods of co oj-eration be
tween the National and State societies.
'i he meetings tor business trill be held
after the public exercises.
It is Imo. I that vou will h«. able lo attend
ihe A D'crsuya and the Business Meetings
our s ; in.l.. run lie unable to attend then'
p!> ase communicate such a i expression ot
ycurviews iu relation tu hccau.se as vcq
deem proper.
\Y ith :iuch esteem.
\ our fellow- laborers iu the cause of
the s tive.
JOSHUA LEAVITT ) Committe-
LAROYSUNDKRLAN! Y 0 t
l.hW ;C* ( Al’i AN, y Arrangn.ent
11 * At.alu Office Gth April, 1839.
Dear GkA i lfsiax,
1 thank you for the very polite invitation
you hare given n e to attet and your anniver
sary, and shall ( ( itaiulv avail myst it ut tl iit
occasi mto sh »v n ysi 1 motig vou.
' ;l, i are n_ lit in calling in* your “Iru nd.”
1 have always hern one ol your best Itiet-tis
n tact a devilish sight nioti friendly than
vou are te yourselves. For six yens yon
have-been making your*elves a set oMhe
greatest fools that ever were breeches; and
although 1 have iu that time brentivmg to
put sense into you heads, yet so great’is Tour
preversness and taste for corruption, that 1
am sorry to say 1 have, like the man in tlm
gospel, sown my precious s«. and thus fin lt ,
storey ground.
You request a full ntteunnee, «rd I -hope
you will have it to your heart's content.
lain ueil aware ot the “practical qoe tions
of much delicacy among yourselves that re
quire to he harmoniously settled’’—and in
order to come to a right* derision on those
questions I think you ought especially to
to invite Mrs. Gove, whose knowledge in
Obstetrics and Physin'o; ynmv throw sotro
light on ihe “practical qnesfion” ot how
mu' ll black arid how much white will make
a descent, respectable, godd looking mulatto
color. Heretofore ph lesophers I ate differ
ed on this “practical question,” but 1 think
in the present state of ihe world it is high
ime for it to he settled. Yon have long so ce
agreed on the great principles of Anti-Slave
ry. and the right and justice of equal, politi
cal, religious social and personal rights to
blacks and whiffs- bit from the prejudices
of the age, and the •*-, ombit ntioi.s ot great
loree forming against you,” the fiappv
mixture of black ladies and white gemnien,
or wisey uarsry, »s the play says, mariying
and intermarrying, l as tl us far I rtn delnv
ed. If i time now to bring about the glo
rious millinium when all colors and com
plexions will run into one, a beautiful un
■ ameable, unexpressible, undefinable yellow
Praise be to God
You will perceive, that I am a dec : ded
friend of your great cause “asl understand
it,’and that you may count upon me as one
for the 7th of May.
1 am, Dear Gentlemen,
Yours truly,
JAMES G< P.J ( N" BENNETT
FFv EN TITIAN A.
Little Buekland, in our presence, loses
all his much boasted self possession.
Ji if a lonian.
We should not wonder if “little Buck
land lost all his possessions of every sort, in
the ptescr.ce ol such a pick pocket.
Prentice.
Dogs always carry their tails inclined to
the right side. We state it as a fact,
Phil. Sprit <j the Times.
And, as you are one ot the tails ot Mar
tin Ynri Buren, this accounts for your al
ways keeping on the right side of him.
Prentice.
The Sub Treasury system is invaluable.
A. F. Post.
It is Price less. Prentice.
We hardly know how to take Mr. Kendall.
I t. Hern Id.
Tike him by the rose That's the way
he was formerly used to being taken.
Pi entice.
The editor o the Globe threatens to sue
his belli quent subscribers, lor the amount
of-subscription. Isn't he afraid they »ii|
plead “no consideration ?” Prentice.
Why is Mr. Van Buren so tortuous in his
poliev ? Worcester Palladium.
Why are a cow’s horus crooked ?
Prentice.
JVery J\fr/sferious. ---'There must be a wory
considerable in the walue of wag
rant waiters, said one loafer to another, or
how is it that you gets two dollars for w’oting
for warnin', an, 1 only one ? Vy, you see,
you woies only in one ward, an 1 wotes in
two. and 1 heard one fa Her say, last eletion,
that Bill Pro e, gin him seventeen dollars,
cos vy? he vvoted in all the wards.
Y. Times.
“Democratic Republic” is the name ofa
town lately established by the legislature of
Virginia. They were pushed fora name!
from the "base uses” to which these two
very respectable words have frequently bern
applied, we should think that “Democratic
Republic” is somewhere in the neighbor
hood of • Loco Foco.”— (jreenslvrugh
Patriot.
Tavern Rales. -The Legislature of Missis
sippi have passed a law regulating the tavern
rates in that state.—-The following are the
highest rates to he allowed ; Roartl, lodg
ing fires, candles, Ace. per month. S4O.
Board alone $ 0 Board per w eek JcP—pei day
$150; for man and horse per night, supper,
lodging and breakfast $2 ; Breakfast, dinner
and supper each 50 cents. The penalty for
demanding more then those rates'is a fine not
exceeding 9.500 aud Imprisonment for fhfrfr*.
frsOOfllS.