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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.