Newspaper Page Text
Ik 1 sphere, ami in wi' utv at large. Am jag
lav roast important oi the-*; is cooversat.otl
uir engine so (hi wei ltd uj'ua tec umul.s «um!
dm ratters of mankind i:i go era!, i tat IcauK
.tales before it, an,l wc.iito. in comp • ia>on. is
but leading con. Il imtchninku g \\i .e in
deed the great obect ol human I.lia l should
senrel v ditto to make ties assertion, since Jew
nicu ci 00-e lupii.Cii for t..< r ('iii.tn i.u
w here Health or I c mty an to b la h 1 urns:,
however, t t.'t.k mote t oblv ot the !« itt >■ sex.
nnd be I eve them note sol e.io. < to ictaui af
fection u tier the in.iteii is ri.mictntin - titj-iv to
lie led to tite aifir, as " i\< s \>;.o ii.fh.oaee
will flint «lnv is’ l.i l aside w ;!t ti e r ''tenths
of nltiit: idles, ;ui<l laid as.dr i>> ever.
IT bo u!v or weal. t hit'C l*r:i ti e butt it
this connexion, the luide in t\ g;:’ er up t.,e
wreath of roses, stad j ’ ce t! em again upo.i
ber polished bi-ow : tiny. may lo.'mv t.e
treasury oi her we at t \> tho.it re erve. ; id
jerin.l the liusUand -et her eao.-ce to " -1 o'
ier goo llv lands to g!d Ins waste,’ s e may
«!o what she will—(brass, bloom, or descend
from affluence to poverty —b.;t il s e lias to
iuii'ilec-tual bold upon her husband s lie it, s' *■
must iiovtfublv lavotuc tint mo.t helpless of
eiuthlv o!reels—a >1 g!i t I w
How pleusantlv the evening hours may lie
made to pass when a woman who can con.
terse Will tolls I cjpule ti.o t-me. lint, on t c
other lltl'ld, how wretched is the pot!.oil of
that man w'io Jiea'ls the dull e-i of It s own
fin side!•—who sees the clog ol h:s ex -tei.cc
forever seated there !---thc same, in t. e and« tiden
it:" influence site has u; mi bis s; nits, -to dav,
i,, ■ ’
as yesterday, to-morrow, anil l.e i ext day.
anil the text! Welcome, thine welcome,
the often invite I , isitcr. who b.i uks the dismal
du! ness of the sect to.
From ihc Knickerbocker.
t'ATMA'KfHS.
It is delightful to behold ti.e patiinrch de
scending gracefully into the vale ofyc in, tilhr
from the noise of life, and the strifes of vain
ambition, sutrottnded hv the ehildron whom
God has given him. till wring in .acts of filial
ntKrtion, nii'l basking in the snnshii.i of that
happiness of w hich l.e is the source. I have
vAv.xtchcd such tin one, vent nfti r jw, not ot.lv
’by the words oi Ii is counsel, but what is of lar
mote importune! , the intluence of ex on; !r.
leading then, into the paths of virlne, and
illustrating tiie words of the Scriptures, tlmt
• her ways are wavs ot pleasantness, and all
her paths are paths of peace,’ I have seen
him sink like the sun, with no cloud to obscure
It’s setting, shedding around him, ns lie touch
ed the horizon of life, a mild and benignant
light, and sinking tit last into the arms of
death, tis gently as the dimness of a summer’s
twilight glides into the shades of evening.
Tiie venerable man, moving with tremu
lous majesty among the scions of his lion e.
and lording it over his little empire of hearts ;
now bending inuetsofeo t tgo piety,or blessing
tho contents of his humble board, ufleets the
generous heart with a dee] er sati.sfuct on, than
ttit; *|Ktctucle ofthe liered.tiiry mo larcb, mov
ing resplendent amid the eiowd ofhis courties,
and peers of the realm.
These quiet family scenes in the country,
delight one more than the contemplation of
those characters whom the world call great:
who stand out in bold relief in the drama of ex
istence, citlier by personal procss on the field
of battle, or the gigantic power of their minds.
Tnerc is, it is true, something infinitely mote
grand in viewing one’s little barque tossed
about o:» the billows if worldly strife and
ambition, titan to behold it safely moored in
some serene and settled have!’. There is a
more exciting interest in viewing a lio-t of hu
man passions fam e 1 into fury, and struggling 1
for mastery, than to look upo i tho | careful
adornment of every gentle and endearing,
virtue. In the one case we have ti e sublime,
in the other the beautiful, of morality. The
one is a spe fade which rises trie mind too
much above its common level, and excites
sensations of too into >e a natme to he long
endured. The other is a pichnc so culm and
beaunful, that we become tiie more ennamour
etl ns we gaze. Like those tranquil land
scapes, whicli nature has adorned with tiie
less bold, but not !c s perfect, touches of her
pencil, it occas'o.'is no high excitement, hut an
equanimity which is >t II moo pleasing ; and
acting with the charm o! soft and sweet music,
il quiets every passion of the soul.
I have lately had u veasron to admire, in t'ae
gallery of ;i quo; country gc .t'emcn, to vvltoni
tae liberal arts ate by no means strangers,
two pieces which are re.n.irl;a!>e for their con
trast, and which arc the cltrf d'ccurres of no
inc.au a lists. I :C oac topic-cuts the death
see.it: of an humble p t iare.j, ft*: other of ilie
most dist ngiiis l eo! Europe m get.cr.,ls. So
expres-ive a etite groups, so natural is every
attitude of the attend nits, t ,at o <■ is scarce!'
persuaded t '.at lie is viewing h.,t the canvass;
Tiie soldier is drawn vv.tlt I :e insign a of war,
and tue accoutrements id t. e battle-field
strewed around ti.e apartment. !I s officers
end stall are bv Ins bed side, watching tile
inoujcut wiiuti tile last breath shall have le
< eded from his lips, and annotißood t; eeial of.
existent 4 * 4 . Hois represented with his eves
stnrutg wildly about, as if in search of some
uveauu to esetipe his l ist invincible enemy.
Struggling against the tli.sewn: with the ei.e-<; es
of a giant coustitut.o:l, and grappling w 111 the
tyranny of <leath. id it the pnliiarch's bead
reclines as gently as for an evening’s slumber,
lies silver locks repo;e ld-:e snow-flakes 0:1 bis
brow, and in every benignant there is the iin
press ol a spin! prepared to I much 11; on the
untried waters," itbcalnn.es:; and v. i:!i innje-tv.
M s rhildrcn me grouped lieude ldm, w. o are
shedding no tears but those ot genmne . 01 now.
lie places Ins band upon their heads, brent. e
into their ear the last words of pu.enrol coun
se.l, then yield, witliout lelucl.mee to the toucii
which dissolves his being.
As tlieso pictures are placed in juxtaposi
tion, I cannot avoid comparing the subjects
of them often in my mind, and sometimes in
gazing ujkjii them, full into deep and protrac
ted reveres i follow them, in imngiuat on.
through tdl'lhe varied scenes of tlieirexistence.
With the one, 1 am assisted in tie picture,
I am drawing, by the portraying-* of the histo
rian. I * wade through scenes of slaughter
to a tin one.’ and behold him emblazoned w ith
every emblem of loyal splendor. The other
I imagine only at hm home, and Ins tit entile.
.and he too is surrounded by jewels, but they
1 arch > children. I laving folk) wed them through
i life, and to the extreme point ot extsttaiee, I
I conjecture what must bo the foeliegy of each,
t> tie stops from the threshold ; the one leuv
mg eve v tiling be lind, the other having uli
- . i ~is before. Tiie one driven to
! dc-cerat on, ns he lie'.ol Is the receding pano.
;m.a vs r aiiii ; me other delighted at the
oj-enuig gioiies oi heaven. *• Alas !” lam
Ipiomptel to excla.ni. “ poor is the weed ol
lea.thlv struggles!” I ask not for the pomp
jof we .ltii or power. 1 ask not lor tie lot o!
tho e wiio e life is a fitful fever, winc e cleat!) is
! .go ;v, and t eir gilded tomb a mockery. It
| is better to sleej) in death, wit.i nought hut the
: green so l to mark the spot of our res*
j la g-place, Ilian to l.e pressed vv.tii a load of
| mo.iumeutat marble.
I NOVEL METHOD OF procuring flowers in
WINTER.
In tl c course of our d.scursive reading we
fi ll in w th the Hi owing curious mode of pro
em; i g flowers:.t will, ns practised m Ge. mauv,
and now publish it for tiie beta-fit of such of
mu fair readers as arc eiirions in such things,
l.e secret is, we l oncc.ve. a valuable one,
as it enables the ladv of taste to decorate her
looms oil festive o -eas:or,s, sit till seasons of
the vear, vv.tii In r favorite flowers. — And it
vv ,1 be seen, tint leafor flowers may be made
to burst fust upon the astonished vision of tiie
lie lolder. ns tiie i !e isure or caprice of the ex-
I erimeutcr may prompt.
“ A brunch pro in t oned to the size of the
obect required is lopped I’ioin the tree, tin
flowers of winch ate to be produced, and is
plunge-1 into a spring, where it is left for an
hour or two, to give time for such ice as may
adhere to the bill; to melt and to soften the
buds ; it is then carried into a chamber heated
by a stove, and plan-1 m n woo !e:i vessel con
tinuing wt ter, qui k IT. e is to lx; added to the
■water and left for I’d hours. The branch is
then removed into another vessel containing
water with a small quantity oi'v tin!, to revolt
put.i faction. In a few hours the (lowers will
begin to appearand afterwards the leaves.
If inn e quick lime he ad c l the appearance
of 11 ic flowers will he expedited ; ii on the
contrary i one lie used the branch will vege
tate mn.'c s'mvly and tho leaves will precede
the flower.”
We may here add tlmt bullions roots may j
he made to blossom more rapidly* bv placing
lime at the bottom of t lie vessel which contains
the earth in which they grow.
Wilmington Advertiser.
AN EVENING IN ATHENS.
BV HUNKY VV. IIILI.URT), K'Q.
I was a wanderer. I stood in Athens.
From the lofty Acropolis I looked forth upon
Greece. The shades of evening were fixing
around me, as I stood among tho shattered
monuments of t ic intellectual city, and saw at
my feet the nimble of Phidias.
Tiie sun w as sinking in his glorv, and fling,
ing bis parting smile upon scenes so levelv,
that lie might well linger ii his leave-taking,
livery peak afoul me blazed with lustre, and
the glancing waives o ' tiie sea, upon which I
looked down, were bright.
J uere stood M nerva’s temple bailed in
light, as it bad glowed in days forever fled,
blessing tiiceyc of ti.e Greek when, returning
from his wanderings, l.e looked upon it from
the far off sea.
The day hath gone, but see in that skv, vet
bright with its Hiding glorv, is the evening
star. * * ''*' * *
I stood musing upon scenes gone bv.
Here is Athens. Here, on this spot, for thirty
centuries, thousands have lived, and loved, and
thought, and died. Wealth, genius, power,
nave trod this field, and wsought their dee.!,
iline, i iic fame ol then achievements is
throughout the whole earth.
i i.e wonder!ul history of the spot rose be
fore me, like a magnificent vision. Even!
alter event passed in review, tiie nnghtv actors
in the glorious past, swept by me vv itli ail tl.eii
deeds. The Kings of Athens, her fleets, her
;ii tines, her scholars, vveic in my pie-cnic.
First eame Ce reaps, with his Egyptians
colony; the robes of tho King mingled w ith
tae garments of the lhicst. He plants the
ol.vc m hoi.o, of Minerva, and builds an altar
toJupiter. 11 is venerable form glided away,
and, on; by one, seventeen forms, with kingly
bearing, passed on. Tee last I recognized as
Go.bus, the patriot King, who loved his coun
try bettor than Ins hie, and sought, in disguise,
amid the conflicting ranks of the Heraelidtc,
that death which the or .cle had declared
would purchase victory for the arms ofhis
I eojile. and which Ins enemies would have
demed to him, had they known that it was
“Codras whom they s'ltick.
Tae light ii over—t ie Atlieui ms arc con
querors, but lament tarns, are ming’ed with
rejoicings, for they mourn a victory bought
at such a price.
Tney so eaiiy declare, that no one is worthy
to succeed Codrus, and that liencetorth no man
shall rule in Athens with tin; title of King.
Before me stood the successors of the Kings
not less lofty their be .ring, nor is their splen
dour less. The piide of ancestry, the dignity
o! authority, sat upon then blows ; and the
purity ol private lie, the splendor of puhl.e
services, toe stern administration of justice,
made them truly illust 1 ions. At the fite-siiie,
m the temple oi justice, on the battle-lie’d, they
were alike above reproaeh. Under their wise
and virtuous adm.lustration, their eountivn eu
became renowned in arts and arms, -a id the
glory of the Athenian name reached the re
mote barbarians. Polished yet vigorous, re
-1 liiici! yet manly, cultivating the most elegant
arts, outstripping the. wo. Id in statuary and
painting, leaching the subiimest philosophy,
I and the sternest morality : they were fuee,
j and upon the sen and upon the land their stau
j d.ird floated in triumph.
I look foith upon the broad surface of the
j Ugeam. A glorious beauty overs; reads it,
I and its delightiul islands sleep in undisturbed
I ijuiet.
J'nc l.caveils are mirrored in its gont'c
, bosom, ami the tiny waves scarcely break its
, icpose.
Hat see a sail flits upon its mirfr.ee, and ano
ther and vet nnotber...traiiM|>ortscrowded with
j 1 nailed bot« sweep in view-.-and n train of
ninitial music brinks over the waters I bco
TIIE SOUTHERN POST.
jibe crowded ranks of tbe Persian. I hear his
i insolent shout of anticipated conquest, as he
[draws n.jgli to the shores ofGiecce. He bears
with him chains fortlic fiec. The unwarlike
1 Naxinns fly ; the inhabitants of Delos are too
-oft lor the battle ; Paros, beautiful Paros,
with its sparkling murble, is deserted. The
dustring vines of Andros afford no shelter for
its people, and the beautiful islands vv Inch so
lately slept in tranquility, resound-will) clash
ing arms, and are violated by the hostile tread
ofthe Persians. Flushed with easy-victory,
the in) randoms of Darius approached Athens.
Upon the plains of Marathon, the host have 1
pielie I their tents. They promise themselves,
conquest and plunder, and arc impatient to 1
rush upon a people, who though they might be'
100 proud to fly, are too weak to resist.
The experienced Dalis, the illustrious Aria
phci ns with the blood of Kings in bis veins, and
ti e banished, treacherous Hippias, head the
Persian ranks.
Before them, Miltiadi.-s plants his ten thou
sand Athenians and his ten bundled Plateaus.
I -ee the waving banners, tlx; flashing steel,
the rush of lx>>t against host. I hear the
terrible shock of battle—the Gus-k strikes for
j Ins home and eve y blow tells—the Persian
cavalry is hotly pressed—it is broken. The
Persian hosts give back. Onward rushes the
(! reek spear, and thousands of tiie invadi is die.
Bank after rank retreats—they turn, they flv,
and the mighty army of Darius, lately so gcor
geoiis and no confident, is scattered in wild
fight. Tney pause not even in their camp;
da y rush to their ship*. The Senate of Alliens
jin solemn assembly await the icsult of the
battle. They trust ii the steady valor of their
countrymen, but they know tho tremendous
strengt.i of the Persian army—their country,
their ail.—is involved in the issue. It is an
nounced that a soldier covered with dust and
blood, (lying from the field of battle, approaches
The Senators, in their anxiety, rise to their
feet to receive him. Ifc enters in hot haste—
'“ llcjO.ce with the victor,” lie shouts, and ex
pires.
Xerxes, with his millions, determines on the
conquest of Greece, lie covers the sea and
ti.e land with bis myrmidons.
Ti.e great burners, wlncli nature laid erected
against him, arc removed. He brings with
hint all iiis regal splendour, and surrounds
himself i o! only with tiie stir gill blit the
pomp of war. IPs magnificent tents, beauti
ful with silk and gold, overspread the land,
and Ins vessels gav with every adornment,
winch wealth could supply, float upon the
ne ghlioring sea. He ascends an eminence to
survey tlx; sconce—-.and as he looks forth upon
the sea anil upon tiie laud, and nehnld.s the
hosts armed to desola e tiie fair lands beneath
him. Ins kingly heail is smote- -and lie weeps.
Bat the love of conquest flames up w ithin him.
Prom Doris, from i liessnly, from tlx; moun
tains ot Pindus, Ossa, Pclion, and Oivmpns,
come to him messengers with the humiliating'
symbols of submission.
Pile I hebans court the ft iend.-diip ofthe
powerful Persian. But not all the states of
G.eece have yielded—no. Some are unsub
dued. \\ itness Tiicrmopyloc.
Pi e Persian army approaches Athens.
But the Athenians where are tl’.ev 1 Have
they abandoned dteir city ? They have. The
tombs ot their auce-itors, and their temples are
forsaken ; their wealth, the adornments oft I icir
«ornes, their statues, their pictures are all left
to the destroyer, and vv-.tli their wives and their
children, they seek, upon tho sea, the safety
which they could no' find upon their natal soil.
‘Tiny were willing,’ in the language of an
elegant historian, ‘ to relinquish nil for tiie sake
of their country, which they knew consisted
not in their houses, lands and effects, but that
equal constitution of government, which thev
had received from their ancestors, anti which
it was their duty to transmit unimpaired to
posterity.’
Day breaks over the Bay of Sulamis. The
Grecian ships are drawn up in the order of
battle. The -spirit of i’iiemistoi'les is diffused j
throughout the whole multitude. Tiie sacred j
hymns and pceans of the Greeks salate tiie!
the light, and now break forth the triumphant
song of war, anil the stirring voice of the
trumpet, given hack in still louder and louder
peals from the shores of Attica, and the rocks
ofSulamis and I’svtallca. The persian ships
hear up to the battle. Seated o i a lofty emi
nence, enthroned, on the top of Mount/Egea
les, the monarch of Persia looks out upon the
light.
* A King sate on the rocky brow,
Which looks o’er sea-born Salamie,
And ships by thousands lay below,
And men in nations; all were his!
lie counted them at break of day—
And when the set, where were tney ?
As that sitting sun sank upon the sea, he poured
iiis splendour upon tl e wrecked and scattered
fragments ofthe Persian fleet.
Every hostile prow is turtle I ftom Greece.]
Xcrces starts in wild despair from liis silver
taro.ic. lie tests his splendid robes, and in
deep dismay, abandons all thoughts of con
quest, and seeks only to plant his leet once
more on the soil of Asia.
I look upon Platea. The sun flings Ins
first light upon the Persian tents, and their
splendour is dazzling. The hour of conflict
is at band. Three hundred thousand aim;
flash ttpen the plain of battle. The Persian
commander, upon his while steed, leads Ins
hosts in person, and an mates them by his
voice and his deeds. But Greek, valor and
Greek steel, meet the shock unmoved. Firce
!y burns the rage of battle.
It is evening. Pica tea is red with the
blood of the Persians. Mordanius and his
milk-white steed have fallen togetlier beneath
the Grecian spear. The Greek is revelling in
Pers an tents. lie seizes the magnificent
couches of the invader, Ins tables of gold and
silver, his yellow golden goblets, his bracelets
of untold value, his scimetars adorned with
precious stones, and Ins treasures heaped in
chests.
Upon the promontory of Mycalc, a like
scene meets my view.
The nctors in these scenes have passed
away, hut their glory is undying-and this max
well Ire called
‘ Clime of the unforgotten brave
Fair clime! where every season smiles
Benignant o'er there lilensed isles
Which seem from fur Colon na'a height,
Make glad the heart tlmi Inula lhe sigh',
And lend 10 loneliness delight 1
Here is Athens. Tii; glorious dead still
crowd upou me. Tuo venerable form of
Socrates is before me. His moek face, and
I calm high brow, present si true pictitre of that
[ih.losophy, winch recognises man as’an irn
j mortal being, and bids him look out upon
I eternity. He troll these streets—he looked
upon this sea—these heavens were arched,
i above his head uufol eii llioir glorious niagnifi-,
| fence, by day and night, to Ins contemplation,
lie sjjcaks, and I listened to his sublime sjiecu
[ lalions.
The wing ofhis thought soars high in the
heavens, and flashes in the sun, as it seeks to 1
discover and explore unknown worlds. 1 fol
low him to Ins prison; what a sublime philoso
phy does he here teach ? lie takes the poi-j
soued enp'with no trembling hand, and puts it
to his lips, yet eloquent wth the language of
unearthly truth.
lie is followed by Plato, his pupil. I re- !
cognise him by the elegance of his manner, I
t' e polish derived from extensive travel, and;
by that biow upon which Wisdom lias stani|X'd
the impress of I’.er own majesty nature. The!
divinity st.rs within him.’ The lustre of hig’i
arid unearthly contemplation is upon his face.
IBs conversation discloses the wealth of his
learning—learning acquired, not only from the
lips ot Socrates, whose instructions i.e en
joyed for eight years, hut from intercourse
with thf great ms every land. After the death
ofins illustrious teacher, he turned his foot. I
steps from Athens, and visited Megnra.
Thebe and Elis. Ti e Pytlngorian philosophy
draws him into Magna Gracia. Curious to
observe the wonders of nature, he visits the
volcanic fires of Sicily. Tin; fame of the
mntheifeatician Tneodorus invites him to
Egypt, and he perfects himself in philosophy. |
Ilis nuuil being now stored with all the
learning that tho world could yield hi n, he
returns to Ills native city, and erecting liis tem
ple in the grov os of A cade turns, he surrounds
himself whit a crowd of illustrious pupils.
Unscduced by political convulsions for forty
years he devotes himself to divine philosophy,
makes man, liis nature, and his destiny, the
subject of his contemplations, and entertains
liis li tends With discourses full of eloquence
and truth.
Among the mighty dead who vise before
me, Deinojtl.etics stands forth, distinguished
by ti c seveie majesty of bis countenance.
Accustomed to utter his thoughts upon the
sea shore, when his voice had been trained to
master the roar of the waves, which dashed
and broke at Ins feet, he addresses the multi
tit tides ncoiit him, and they are still. He pours
upon them the energy of his own soul, and
they are swayed, like reeds before the tem
pest. While be appeals to their love of coun
try, and describes the invader approaching
the city, the deep, loud cry of popular enthu
siastn is heard from tln ir ranks—“ Let us
march against Pailip.” But alas! who can
promise liimsell the lasting enjoyment of po
pular favor? Let the dying lips of the poison
ed Dcmbsthenes answer.
Glorious city, with thy wealth of fimo, 1
must leave thee. The night dews are heavy
upon me, and, wandeier as I am, I may not
longer converse with thy dead. I must puisne
my pilgrimage.
“ Farewell! a word vvhf -h-must be and hath been ;
A sound whicli makes us linger, yel farewell.”
PICA YUM RAN A.
The fi inrfd of Advertising. —A merchant
in one of our Northern cities lately put an ad.
vertisemerit in a paper headed “Boy Wan.
ted.” The next morning he found a band-box
on his dom step, with this inscription 0:1 the
top, “ How will this oneansvver ?” On open
ing it lie found a nice, fat, chuhby-looking
specimen of the article ho wanted, warni'y
done up in flannel !
Spunk. —-“ Marin, njavn’t Igo play horse
to-day ?”
“ No, child, you must stay in the house.”
“Now look here, inarm, if you don’t let
me. I’ll go and catch the meazels—l know a
big boy what’s got ’em first rate.”
High rind Low. —’Tis an extradrdinary
fact, says the Baltimore Sun, that when peo
ple come to what is called high words, they
generally use very Low language.
How to inn hr a good I y ud ling. —Put in lots
of good stuff, bake it well, and set it before a
hungr'y person to cool.
One Wag of getting an Introduction. —The
girls in Boston are so hard run for acquaintan
ces f the other sex that they frequently fall or
slip down on purpose that the beaux may come
and pick them up!—so says the Boston
Times.
“ Adeline” writes too masculine a hand to
deceive us. N. Y. Whig.
That’s just the case with our Lucy.
Good Hoax Trie whole State of Illinois
has been hoaxed into keeping thanksgiving...
a proclamatio for one appearing in due fonn
in all the papers, hut not discovered to ho a
forgery.until the whole affair was Over.
Buifaioniart.
We should rather be. hoaxed into keeping
thanksgiving than not: hoaxed into keeping
fast would be a horse of another color.
An Edi or in Trouble. —A young lady in
Shippensburg has threatened the editor of the
Herald with a “licking” the first time she
catches him out. His anxious mother had
better keej) him in We would much rather
meet fifty men, armed with fifty pistols and
Bowie knives, than one of the tender sex of
the borough of S.iippensburg when “excited.”
Caution. —Some Yankee is manufacturing
Morus Multicuulis slips out of poplar trees.
As I’ve no room to show my wit,
I’ll give yon just two lines,and quit.
* '““KMiwinpwiui l lll iUBHii an ■.<*
DRESS MAKING AND MILLINERY.
lAI HANLEITER wishes to inform the Lad e
ivj of Macon, and vieinitv, that slip has come to tli •
determination of pursuing the dress makixq business,
and flatters In-melt that, from a Hie experience, site w it*
give entire satisfaction to nil who nmv think proper t >
engage her sendees. She will endeavor to obtain
pat ents of the hint Sprin 7 I'tithinnn, and tie betiet
prepared m suit those Ladies who may patronize het.
{Qr- Her residence is on Third-street, in the hoti-'e
formerly occupied by Mr B. Trapp.
JttrMrs. SAGE will attend 'nthe milmneiy lutsine ►
at the same bouse; and will HU tub and I’reti Bonnelt
at short notice.
January 19 j j.
ORIGI N A L.
Written for the Sruthern Poet.
TIIE INDIAN GRAVE.
In the county of Morgan there is a small stream fa
miliarly known to the present inhabitants as “ Indian
| Creek." Not far from its waters, upon a small hill,
j near the cen're of a large plantation, is a considerable
I mound of earth, nearly covered by stones and brush
' wood, known by many as the “ Indian Grave.” Toe
! name ot the Creek and the designation of the Grave,
i are traced to die following adventure :
j On tics Creek, early after diis parch.me was made
from the Indians, a 9innll settlement had been com
mence J. A few enterprising farmers, lire Jof the worn
I out lands of Nordi Carolina, and enticed by the fruit
fulness of the soil lying up and down thisstream, had
already reared their rude cabins, and commenced ra
pidly lo fell the lorest uround them. In eight of each
| other, on three different elevations, might be seen three
unhevved cabins, roughly cove ed with hoards, held in
their places by heavy poles above th in. A li'de farther
j off was yet another, tearing a strong and familiar like
; ness to the rest. This settlement wns several miles
! west ot any other, being nearer to the Indian line.—
: Just beyond this boundary there was a considerable
I number of Indians resident upon a small stream, on
which they had reared their bark hut.-, and were pre
paring for a permanent abode. How vain their £Xpec-
I ta'ions ! The tide cl time and emigration has rolled on
: Where are they now ? Answer it who can.
| The e'dest of the four settlers was George Frazer—
his age was rising forty, with nothing remarkable about
the expression of his face, save an eye which looked as
if it never slept; brigh', piercing and grey, giving to
his coun'cnance the appearance of extreme caution and
vigilance. His frame vvas well knit and stout, his
height six feet. His nearest neighbor, Samuel Frit
well, or as he was familiarly termed, Sum Fretvvel',
was his cousin—his age about thirty-five—a reckless,
daring man, rather below the middle height—he had,
however, proportions of the finest order. Than him
no man was mare athletic, and for steadiness of nerve
and firmness of muscle, lie was one of ten thousand.
In the use of the rifle he was unrivalled. Often in the
chase cl:! lie, Iron) his covert, drive the bullet to the
heart of the buck, while bounding by at full speed, dr
bring to the ground the wild tttrkey, while coursing his
rapid flight amid the tops of the tall pines. The o her
two neighbors, William and James Dradshaw, were
lirothcrs. Both Iwnest indus'rious men, such ns may
he found nny where, with nothing remnrkab'e about
them. The Indians raitly ever visited this settlement.
It was so new that it vvas scarcely known. One and
another had been occasionally seen, but no intercourse
was kept up between them, fur as prudent men, they
determined to have no connexion w ith them, other than
such as vvas unavoidable.
It vvas now spring time. Winter had pissed away,
and with it the biting cold and nipping Trust. Theear
ly buds were putting forth their leaves and flowers—
the music of the birds had come, and in the silence of
the evening tvviligh', might he heard the plaintive note
if the lonely whip-poor-will, as he uttered forth his
melancholy wailings. Our settlers were eagerly pie
paring for the coming crop. In the afternoon of a hrigtr
and sunny day.'Samuel Fretwell and George Fra/.er
were engaged in their'effermgs, which were contigu
ous to each oilier, industriously cutting and splitting the
trees arou id them, when the report of a r.fle, at no
g r eat distance fn.m them, attention of each
‘‘Heard you that rifle, Sam,” said Frazer; “who
can be hunting so near our cabins ?”
“ The timer, are too pushing for white folks to he out,
I recon" said FretWcll, “unless they have more time
to spare than I have. B it, hatke ! hide quick, for yon
der comes a big buck, and if ‘Old Nancy,’ ( he naihc
by w hich he called his rifle) dont miss fire, I recoil 1*1:
shorten the gait at which he is travelling."
Instantly snatching up a well-worn rifle w hich rested
against a tree hard by, he gained a proper Vtuarf, and
waited the approach of the deer. Swiftly came the
buck, his head thrown back, his long antlers seemeJ
t) pierce his very shoulders; unconscious ofthe danger
ahead, lie bounded on, neither turning to the right nor
left, un i! opposite the large oak behind which Fret weft
had hid himself, and at the distance of an hundred
yards. Quick as thought, the oIJ rifle was poised up
on the hand of the hunter; a moment was sufficed to
catch the object with his eye, and bring the to
bear upon it—a single motion of the barrel vvas seen as
it moved with the b mnd of the buck, and the sharp
crack vvas heard. The result was certain. Fretwell
never missed his aim.
“ A right good shot that, cousin George, and a fine
fellow lie is too," said he, as they walked up to the dy
ing deer.
“ The shot vvas good enough to kill him, ‘tis true, hut
I must be allowed to say it was badly aimed ; the bul
let just passe I through the fleshy part of his neck.”
“ Where ?” said Fretwell. “ That is not my bullet
hole, nor is tiiat the side at which I fired ; turn him
over a..d I’ll bet you’ll find my hall just behind the
shoulder; that’s the mark I shot at.”
So saying, they turned the deer over, and sure enrm :h.
they found tin; evidence of the unetring aim of the
marksman. They had just settled the matter as to the
shoot, when four Indians came suddenly up, all rifle in
hand. They exchanged a few words among them
selves, on seeing the deer, and one of them approach
ed to examine it. On discovering the wound made by
Fietweli’s bullet, he pointed to the muzzle of his rifle,
and looking at the others, significantly shook his head.
Turning him over, his countenance instantly changed*
as his eye rested upon the rent made by his own ball.
*‘ Ah ha ! me do dat—me first shoot—me first kill—
mine deer, any how.”
Thus expressing, in broken English, the conviction
that the deer was his by right of the first wound, lie
proceeded to lay hold of it, apparently careless of the
presence of the real slayer. Hardly had he done so,
when reckless of consequences, Fretwell struck him a
tremendous blow with his fist that caused him to mea
sure his length alongside of the stricken deer.
“ Take that you thieving dog, will you, and begone;
and kill your game on your own side of the line.”
Two of the remaining Indians cock and leveled their
guns simultaneously, hut the quick eye of Frazer de
tecting their object, he sprung between them, seizing a
gun in either hand, and before the Indians could ar
rest their purpose, each rifle was harmlessly discharged
into the earth. The fourth Indian an old man, being
more wary or more prudent, interposed to prevent fur
ther mischief. The fallen savage arising in the mean
time, and recovering his gun, joined the others. A few
words, unintelligible to our farmers, passed quickly be
tween thi m, and shouldering their rifles, they passed
speedily out of the clearing, in the direction in w hich
they came Tiiey had not gone far before Frazer dis
covered the furtive glances they threw around them in
every direction, and saw that the oldpaeiji atur himself
seemed to mark distinc ly, by quick but steady obser
vation, the position of the cabins around.
“ I am much mistaken, Sam, if you have not, by that
hasty blow you gave that red skin, brought trouble up- |
on yourself and the rest of us; those two yodngsters !
would have blowed you through, had I not detected 1
their purpose 111 time to prevent it; and that old ser- ■
pent who seemed ottly anxious to make peace, is ave- i
ry devil, I 11 warrant, aril has planned many a dark
scheme of villainy before to-dnv. Did you not see the j
vengeance in his face and the fury in bis eye, as he j
walked away ? Mark me well, Sam Fretwell, that old :
savage is not to be trused : the others are young, and
like yourself, somewhat hasty, but I would far sooner!
trust their busty tempers than his wily malevolent spir- -
it—they would forget it ail More a week passed, but
he will repay us w ith interest, if it should take vrars.”
“Well, what is done can't be undone," said Fret
vvell, “ but they had better keep out of the reach of
I 'Old Nancy,’ else I’ll try and make the debt'larger—
we must only keep up a closer watch for a season, and
their anger will p iss off. ’
| “Be not so easily flattered into secufitvs cousin* Sam
—I atn an older man then you, and may be given to
l ook closer into things ; at all event?, I am no judge of
| human nature, if that old Indian doe3 not give us trou
' Me yet.”
By this time the two Bradshaws, having heard the
firing, came tip; matters were explained, and the ap
prehensions of Frazer expressed—the danger was np.
; parent to iffi, and ere they separated, they arranged that
a I the families, at n itftit, should occupy one house, n-'d
that two of the men should stand on guard each n: ,ht
; alternately, until such time as the danger
passed. In conformity with this arrange mem] that
night was passed in watching, the duty being perform
ed by the brothers Bradshaw, without resulting in aMV
discoveries. Tile Indi ans came not. Titus performin'*
the duties of watchmen, our little band of farmers
ed many a night of sleepless vigilance. As ye*, to all
appearance, it vvas done without necessity, and' exp v
sed them to much fatigue and many privations. Ai
yet, their cabins were imbuin', their families unharm
e Not an Indian had been seen—-not even a foot
print had been de'ectcd by the ever-wntchful Frazer.
But stiff they did no: cease to pass the night upoa their
accustomed guard, and even dttrin i the day, while en
gaged in their farms, their faithful rifles were their con
stant companions; and often, when approaching the
outer verge of their clearings, they would pause, and
cast quick and searching glances into the thicket,
around them, and listen well, l est some skulking In
ilian suddenly should spring upon them, or send tiie
deadly bullet to their hearts.
April had come Tiie leaves expanding with each
returning sun, had mantled the f >rost in its vernal gar
ments. Far aid near around the cabins of our settlers,
lay one Unbroken woodland scene, save in the direo
ii in of the Creek—there the labor of the axeman had
bee l bestowed, and there the timber had been cat a tid
killed, to give place to the coming crop. After the la
bor* of a day, rather warm for the season, our farmers,
vvi h llteir families, were quietly sitting around the
hearih-lglr, eojoving themselves as well as posable,
under the circumstances by which they were surround
ed. M any had been the remarks upou indifferent mat
ters— me subject leading to another, till at length they
recurred to the subject of. their danger.
“ We!!,’’ at length said Fretwell, “ I a:n beg mi at; to
ihink our neighbors over the line are satisfied vv.th the
scare we cave them, and are willing to let us alone—
weeks have elapsed since the deer-killing scrape, and
it strikes me if ever they intended to take vengea tee,
they would have made a trial before now. VV’hai ihink
you of it, cousin, Gojrire ?”
Frazer being thus addressed, remarked, “Trust nit
appearances, Sam—tltcy are deceitful—the surest way
to cure un evil, is to prevent it. lam as liable to lie de
ceived as another, hut never shall I believe o her.vise,
than that cunning oi l savage in'e tiled to repay us the
blow you inflicted upon his companion. Why he has
| not already made the attempt, I am unable to say—he
j may he only watting a favorable opp inanity toexecu e
i iiis purpose. For myself, Id > not feel safe from his
' resentment, and am not willing to relax my efforts to
! avoid it.”
[ Tiie sudden and fierce barking of a dog outside the
; yard, arrested the conversation, and fixed the a* ention
[ of the speaker
1 “ Who goes there exebime l Frazer.
I No answer vvas m ide—the dog barked on.
[ “ Who is that ? C >me here T.gcr—come here sir."
! A' the bidding of his master, a large ear, leaping the
[ fence, came hastily up, evidently Jis urhc 1 i t an u iu
! sua! degree, but quickly returned and contikuKl iiis
angry barking.
“ S line one must be ahoit',” Frazer continued; “ Ti
ger never barks thus at any harnifess creature. 1 w ill
close the doOr. If it he a.ny person desirous to co.uo
j in, they will surely call.”
The door was shut. In a short time tiie dog became
| quiet—he had been deceived, or the intruder, had de
parted. Frazer however, vvas not relieved of his ap
prehensions.
“ I should n >t he surprised," said he, “if the rascal
ly red skins were about. Sam, look you well to the
priming of your rifle, and do you,” addressing the two
j Bradshaws, “sleep to night with un.el ised eyes, and
! firelock in hand; it may be, we may have to give them
arutid at short; Slid do you wife, set the example so
die other women, of coolness and courage. If wo are
attacked, lie close with the. children, and in silence,
prepare for any emergency. Sam, it is your turn and
mine t > watch. You know your recklessness and pro
pensity to underrate danger; be not too sanguine to
night. \ou may deed more prudence than you are
apt to exhibit. An incautious act may endanger all
our hves. Be governed by if ie—place yourself where
you cant he neon —keep your position—if you see an
Indian, he sure of your aim, and fire. 'Tis perhaps
best that we make the attack, if indeed there be In
dians about, which I hope is not the case.”
Tims ended his instructions—noth shouldered their
guns, nnd cautiously leaving the house, proceeded to
their hiding places. Frazer taking a tree in the rear of
the house, Irom which position lie could see the ap
proach of a person in any direction, in front or on ei
ther side of him. Fretwell departing to the front of the
house, settled him&lf down just inside the yard fence,
between the fence and a large fallen tree, where he
could command the approach to the house from, any
p )int in that direction. Toe large dog was with Fra
zer, under whose command he was as obedient as a
child. Tiiese arrangements were noiselessly and quick
ly made.
’T was past the hour of midnight. The fire had ceas
ed to burn upon the cabin hearih. The inmates of tho
house were silent, if not sleeping. Tiie notes of the
wh p-p >or-will were occasionally heard, issuing from
the low grounds of the adjacent Creek, accompanied
by the solemn melancholy ho iiings of thesolitnry owl.
Save these occasional ouibreaks upon the silence of
the night, the f >rest slumbered o t in unbroken quiet.
The moon shone not, hut the sky vvas unclouded, and
the stars lustrous and brilliant, shed out upon the earth
a calm and mellow light. Ever nnd again, the rus'ling
of a leaf, the murmur of the wind; or the cracking of
a st.ck, would cause the eye to ttirn in the direction of
the sound. But no object yet had fixed the attention
of the silent watchers. The night vvas rapidly wear
ing away. Fretwell vvas beginning to manifest signs of
impatience and restlessness, when a low nnd indistinct
sound, like the note of a startled partridge, fell upon
his ear. With interne interest he listened for a repeti
tion of a sound. Nor long did he wait—it was soon
repea'ed, and louder and more distinct than before -
and immediately he heard it answered in the direction
of I* razor s stand. The sound had come first from the
woods More him, and thoug't he examined every ob
ject with keen scrutiny, yet he could sec no living crea
ture that could have given utterance to the sound. He
had heard that litis was one of the Indian signals to en
sure concert in their nightly prowlings, and he w as con
fident in his belief that Indians W'ere about.
“ Hang the rascal,” said lie, in communion w ith him
self, 41 if he will just got out where a glimpse of star
light con fall upon him, and ‘Old Nancy’ will butspeak
sharp, I’ll make him feel more like a dead dog than a
living partridge."
Again his ear enught the sound, and nearer than be
fore, and he heard the c answer given.
\V hat meancth all this,” again mused Sant Fret
well. 44 Nearer still, and no one to l>e seen. Were it
even a partridge itself, aurely it would rustle the leave*
enough for me to hear it, and 61 upon the spot at which
*t stopped.’ 4