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Yol. 11. No. 52.1
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Clic S&asiunfltomau
JJjlj BK PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY
MORNING, BY
JAMES McCAFFERTY,
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fS^SILLXSS©yi7
Bfc— . — ~
Staryiug to Death.
■We find in Kendall’s “ Santa Fe Ex
edition,” the following powerful descrip
tion of the agonizing sensations experi
|||ced by persons when starving to death:
*t“ I have never yet seen a treatise or
jjfcertation upon starving tp death: 1
Mil speak feelingly of nearly every stage
Bcept the last. For the first two days
through which a strong and healthy man
■doomed to exist upon nothing, his suf
ptings are, perhaps, more acute than in
the remaining stages; he feels an inor
nate, unappeasable craving at the stom
ttch, night and day. The mind runs up
on beef, bread, and other substantial;
Kit still, in a great measure, the body re.
|*uns its strength. On the third and
f&Urth days, but especially on the fourth,
|his incessant craving gives place to a
linking and weakness of tho stomach,
Kcompanied by nausea. The unfortu
nate sufferer still desires food ; but with
loss of strength he loses that eager crav
ing which is felt in the earlier stages. —
fchould he chance to obtain a morsel or
iwo of food, as was occasionally the case
kvitb us, he swallows it with a wolfish
ividitv ; but five minutes afterwards his
{sufferings are more interne than ever.—
He feels as if he had s wad owed a living
lobster, which is clawing and feeding up
on the very foundation of his existence.
On the fifth day his checks suddenly ap
near hollow and sunken, his body attenu
ated, his color an ashy polo, and his eye
rild, gls(#sy, cannibaiish. The different
iarts of the system now war with each
ther. The stomach calls upon the legs
ogo with it in quest of food; the legs,
■oin very weakness, refuse. The sixth
ay brings with it increased suffering, al
hough the pangs of hunger are lost in
n overpowering languor and sickness.—
'he head becomes giddy; the ghosts of
veil remembered dinners pass in hideous
recession through the mind. Tho sev
nth day comes, bringing increased lassi
ldo and farther prostration of strength,
’he arms hang listlessly, the legs drag
eavily. The desire for food is still left,
o a degree, but it must be brought, not
ought. The miserable remnant of life
which still hangs to the sufferer is a bur
den, almost too grievous to be borne;
pet his inherent love of existence induces
f desire still to preserve it; if it can be
laved without a tax upon bodily exertion.
Ifhe mind wanders. At one moment he
thinks his weary limbs cannot sustain
Skim a mile—the next, he is endowed
§vith unnatural strength, and if there be
certainty of relief before him, dashes
Bravely and strongly onward, wondering
Whence proceeds this new and sudden
Impulse.
I Farther than this, my experience run-
Weth not. The reader may tj»nk I have
prawn a fancy sketch—that 1 have col
bred the picture too highly; now, while
■ sincerely trust he may never be ;n a sit
uation to test its truth from actual expe
rence, I would in all sober seriousness
»y to him, that many of the senations I
jjkve just described, I have myself expe
rienced, and so did the ninety and eight
persons who were with me from the time
when we first entered the grand prairie
until we reached the flock of sheep, to
rhich more pleasing subject I will now
eturn.”
Death of a Soldier of the Revolution.
The Kaskaskia (Ohio) Republican, no
ces the death in that vicinity of Mr.
ohn Stufflebean, aged 119 years. He
as born on the banks of the Hudson
ver, twelve miles from Albany, in the
fate of New York. February 15th, 1735,
'here he married his first wife, whom he
est with two children, when he enlisted
Is a private in the revolutionary army, in
prhich he served almost to the close of the
war, when he was taken’ captive by the
Indians, who disposed of him to the Brit
ish for a barrel of rum. Having remain- :
ed a prisoner at Detroit, a few months, i
while employed one day chopping wood, <
he and five of his fellow prisoners effect
ed their escape. On account of the dif
ficulty experienced in procuring subsist- (
ence, these fugitives separated into two
parties, and took separate routes to the 1
Ohio river. The subject of this notice 1
and his two companions, guided by the •
sun in fair weather, and lying by when ‘
it was cloudy, aiming for some point high 1
up on the river, made the best of their
way through the desolate forest inhabit
ed by hostile Indians, but now is the ter- 1
ritory constituting the States of Ohio, In- 1
diana and Michigan. Three long months 1
were spent in concealment and wander
ing about in the performance of this lone
- some and hazardous journey, beset as it
was, on all sides, by the insidious foes,
■ then the sole tenants of those savage
• wilds; in perils and dangers daily ; and
• at times nearly reduced to starvation.—
• At one time for four successive days they
r were without nourishment, save that as-
I forded by a half dozen half hatched
; pheasant’s eggs. Sometimes felling in
5 among the Indians, and representing
1 themselves as sent from the British Army
- in pursuit of deserters, they obtained food
1 from them, and their suffering were miti
• gated by the kindness thus elicited, as
• well as themselves protected from the
- savage enmity then so Urong against the
? Colonists. He was one of the first set
■ tiers in Bourbon county, Kentucky, and
1 assisted in sawing with a whip saw, the
> planks used in constructing the first per
-1 manent framed building thero erected.
> He was blessed with a fine flow of animal
- spirits, and was generally cheerful. His
i eye-sight was unimpaired almost to the
- last, and he never had an occasion for the
- use of spectacles. He never took a dose
>’ of medicine, and, with the exception of
3 the four days’ illness immediately prece
-1 ding his death, ho was never sick, at least
s seriously so. In his last and only sick
- ness, he could not be prevailed on to call
lin a physician. His third wife is still
- living, at the advanced age of 82 years,
• and was able to attend the remains of her
• deceased husband to the grave.
n The Dandy and the Landlord,
t There is an individual living not a thou
-1 sand miles from the “City of the Lakes,”
s who is familiarly known in regions round
about, by the familiar cognomen of “Old
j Cluff”—a man of great singularity of
. character; and who, when hard pushed,
, makes a “ ten strike” at saying a good
. thing. During the prevalence of the
f cholera in the year 1832, there appeared
5 in the “Eagle Tavern”—(a hotel of
. which the before-mentioned, was the pro
. prietor)—one of those “highly concen
trated extracts of pomatum,” hair and
r musk, things —a burlesque on the human
’ form divine—a dandy, in all the moods
t and tenses of such a creature. After de
} positing his baggage, consisting of a
. pointer dog, a bundle of sticks cut at the
. Falls of Niagara, and a small hair trunk,
j in the hafl of the Hotel, he approached
} the bar and addressed the landlord, who
. happened to be behind the counter, as fol
, lows :
, “ Landlowd! pwepawe me a glass of
j bwandy and watavv, with a diminutive
3 mixtwa of the sothon weed.”
3 Understanding his man, old Cluff had
, the article instantly prepared and placed
\ before him. The mixture soon disap
peared ; and so soon as the ceremony of
. arranging his cravat, moustaches, and a
3 slight flourish of a highly flavored pocket
. handkerchief was gone through with, he
3 again addressed himself to the landlord
.in the following language—verbatim
. “/JOZ.”
3 “ I say, landlowd, does the cholcwa ap
[ pwoach the highaw ordaw of societaw in
. youwa citwa?
t “ What did you observe ?” insinuating
, ly asked Old Cluff.
3 “ I say, maw deaw fellow, does that
) most howitable pestilence, the cholowa,
, attack the fashionables—that is, docs it
weach the moaw wefined and intelligent
powtionof the exclusives of your citwa?”
“No,” good humoredly answered the
- landlord, “it does not; but I would ad
. vise you—if you are capable —to write
> to your mother immediately, and obtain
i her consent to quit the place for fear it
; may attack you !
i “ Whya, mew deaw fellaw, why do you
!speak thus?”
! “ Because the disease rages to a fearful
i extent among a certain class of individu
als. It is death upon fools —scarcely <
! one escapes its deadly ravages.”^
=-== • -----
AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1844.
■■■■■■■ - - ■■■ ■■
The “ cretaw”\ soon disappeared amidst
shouts of laughter from the bystanders;
and at the latest mates had Dot been heard
of in those parts-L
Colonel Crockteft In a (tuand-ary.
“I never but oillce, said the Colonel,
“ was in what I ca|l areal genuine quand
ary. It was fiurimg my electioneering
campaign for Concrete ; at which time I
strolled about ir tl« vipods so particular
ly pestered with ptteitns', that I forgot my
rifle. Any man lba\ forget his rifle,
you know; but it ifsnl every man can
make amends for hfi fotgetfulness by his
inventive faculties, jl guess. It chanced
as I was strolling [along, considerable
deep in congressional*, the first thing
that took my fancy was the snarling of
some young bears, which proceeded from
a hollow tree; the entrance being more
than forty feet from the ground. I
mounted the tree, but I soon found that I
could not reach the aubs with my hands,
so I went ieet forempst, to see if I could
draw them out with] my toes. I hung
on, at the top ol the hplej straining with
all my might to reach th<!m, until at last
my hands slipped, anil down I went, more
. than twenty ieet, to tjto bottom of that
black hole ; and there I Ibund myself al
most hip-deep in a family of fine young
bears. I soon found that I might as well
, understake to climb uh the greasiest part
of a rainbow as to g*bdck, the hole in
the tree being so largd find its sides so
smooth and slippery froln the rain. Now
this was a real genuine regular quanda
ry ! If so be I was ti> shout it would
have been doubtful tvhptber they would
hear me at the settlement; and if they
did hear me, the story] Would ruin my
. election, for they were a quantity too cute
, to vote for a man that hkd ventured into
, a place that he could’ntfept himself out
, of. Well, now while I was calculating
' whether it was best to shbut for help, or
to wait in the hole until the election,
I heard a kind of fumbling and grum
bling over head ; and lqoking up, saw
I the old bear coming downjstem foremost
I upon me. My motto is always “go a
head!" and as soon as she had lowered
. herself within my reach, I got a tight
grip of her tail in my loft tftand, and with
my little buck horn hafted pen-knife in
the other, I commenced spurring her for
ward. I’ll be shot if ever a member of
1 Congress rose quicker in the world than I
l did. She took me out in’the shake of a
lamb’s tail.”
Paddy's Experiment for reducing a
Hole. —An Irish weaver just imported
from the sister isle took to his employer
in Kilmarnock, the other day, the first
• cloth he had woven since his arrival. Ilis
employer detected in the cloth two holes,
within half an inch of each other, and
told him he must pay a fine of a shilling
for a hole. “ And plaze ye,” returned
; Pat, “is it by the number of holes or by
the size of them, that you put the fine on
us?” “ 13y the number of holes to be
; sure. “And a big hole and a small one
is the same price? “ Yes a shilling for
each hole, big or little. “Then give me
, hold of the piece, replied Paddy, and get
ting the cloth into>his head he tore the
two small holes into one, and exclaimed,
■ “By the hill of Howth, and that saves
me a shilling anyhow.^
Use of a Wig
Monsieur Perrot caught the general
spirit of the affray, and, as he aKerwards
. said of himself, “ fought like a famished
lion,” when, unluckily, his pisto] snapped
in the face of a Sioux warrior, wqo struck
him a blow that felled him to the earth.
Stepping lightly over the form ofhis pros
trate foe, the savage, grasping a knife in
his right hand, and seizing the uckless
Frenchman’s hair with his left, about
to scalp him, when the knife dropped from
his hand, and he stood for a momejnt pet
rified with astonishment and horror.
The whole head of hair was in lie left
hand, and the white man sat grinning
before him, with a smooth and .shaven
crown. Letting fall what he believed to
he the scalp of some devil in ijuman
shape, the affrighted Sioux fled froip the
spot;awhile Perrot, replacing his, wig,
muttered, half aloud, “ Bravo, rna honne
perruquae ! je te dois mille remercimlns.”
—The grairie Bird, by the,Hon. O. A.
Murray.
Cleanliness.
The large village of Brock, near Am
sterdam, in Holland, is said to present! the
most remarkable example of unilirm
neatness, and punctilious attention] to
cleanliness, that the world can produrq.l
It is chiefly inhabited by wealthy fanri-
ers, who live in affluence upon the income ]
of their lands. Wagons and leaked car- ’
riages are not allowed to pass through the <
streets, the pavement of which is kept in 1
the best possible order; while the foot- 1
walk, which is as clean as scrubbing i
brushes can well make it, is and (
marked out into fanciful and ornamfcntal
figures. The doors and porches aretbur
nished, and the trunks of the trees vvnich
grow before them, are polished by Yre- !
quent scrubbing. To gdin admittance s
at the front door, is a favor not to be Ax- 1
pected, except by persons of some conap- I
quencc; and if the shoes of a visitor
happen to be a little soiled, a pair as I
slipped is presented to him at the dooi i
which he is to use as a substitute during <
his stay. 1
The following article is from the Port
land Tribune, which, by the way, is one
of the most ably conducted papers in the
, country. We recommend it to the atten
[ tive perusal of all our brother typos, and
j especially to that of the young men just
i entering manhood, and apprentices, at
tached to the profession. The article
5 contains nothing but that which every
t printer knows to be" the truth, and we
. hope every one who reads it will profit
r by the advice given, and commence by
l becoming a Washingtonian : Without
[ this, in our opinion, his efforts will, in
i nine cases out of ten, prove fruitless.—
> Organ.
, Printers.
No trade sends into the world smarter
I and more active men than that of print
j mg. Look to offices of trust and honor
, —where talent and energy are required
r —and you will be most likely to find them
, filled by printers. Who make our best
} editors, lawyers, preachers, mayors and
[ Cortgress men? Printers. Printing is
, a glorious business, thus to fit men for
honor and usefulness. A college cduca
tion is not to bo compared with an educa
’ tion at tho case. One of the greatest
f lawyers England has produced was a
t printer. The greatest philosopher of
America was a printer. WhoistheMay
]or of London ’ A printer. Who arc
I Mayors of Glasgow, Edinburgh and
j Perth ? Printers. So also are the May
j ors of New York, Washington and Sa
_ vannah, printers by trade. The recent
f Mayor of Boston was a printer,
j There arc something like a dozen
l printers in Congress—all of them honors
to their profession.
Certainly, the best conducted journals
i of this country are under the control of
:1 printers. Look to this city for instances:
r Gen. Todd, of the American, Edwards,
t of the Advertiser, Beckett, of the Bul
s letin, and Nichols, of the Washington
, ian, are all printers, and reflect honor on
1 the craft.
t Printers are looking up. Who would
1 not be a printer ? To the young appren
f tices at the case, or the roller stand, with
i smutty feces or dirty fingers, we would
3 say, don’t be discouraged. A few years
3 a"o, all the distinguished men wo have
r named above, were similarly employed.
3 Stick to your business and every leisure
- hour you have, employ it in the perusal
3 of useful books and in the cultivation of
, your minds. Then the day will not be
s far distant, when if you are true to your
selvos and contract no bad habits, you will
become useful and honorable citizens—
I exerting a wide and healthy influence.
s Midnight,
j The clock is striking twelve. How
j finely the full tones sweep past through
c the air, as if they would take up our
thought, and carry it miles away to the
_ very friend you are thinking of at the
3 moment. How many haunts of wretch*
8 edness hidden from human eye, in the
t depths of human hearts, have these cold
3 vibrations reached while they are dying
_so carelessly upon our ears ? What tales
might they tell of secret misery, sickness
unwatched, and preying sorrow, and fear,
, and care, and the thousand bitter cank
-3 ers that lie and feed at the very heart
, strings, beyond all reach of medicine,
, perhaps of sympathy. Many a wife sits
3 watching with a broken heart for her
husband’s step —many a mother for her
! child’s—and many a venturous merchant
> lies haunted with fears of shipwreck and
fire—many an undetected defaulter fan
’ cies voices at the door —many a young
girl just finding out that love is only a
heaviness and a tear, muses bitterly over
• the caprice of a moment or an unmeant
: trifle. And these are the only watchers—
i for the happy are asleep—save the bride
> on her daintily wrought pillow, murmur
ling in a low tone to the ear that will soon
. 'tire of its* monotony—cr to the fervent
[One Dollar a Year.
poet building up his dream into the sky
with his eyes straining into the darkness,
and his pulse mounting with the leaping
freedom of an angel’s, forgetting the
world will trample out his fiery spirit to
ashes, and laugh to scorn the fine work
of his towering fancy.
Stump Speaking in Arkansas.
About nine o’clock the voters, num
bering near one hundred, presented them
selves, and a round shouldered, shock
haired man arose, and addressed them as
follows:
Feller Citizens—This are a day for
the people of Wolfs mouth, and I
mought say, if I warn’t modest, that our
carnal entrenchasmen, (that’s a hard
word, but I got through with it!) depends
lon our heterogenous exertions!) Bill
Sculpin are our candidate, and Jack
londes swears that he’s bound to shoot
® ery man that don’t vote for him ! Fol
lir citizens —I’m goin to sand my speech
uith quotation from Seizem, the celebra
ted latin cricket, when he addressed the
Carthagenions and Rocky mountain cods
at the battle of the Cow-pens! Look
out*—l’m coming’—cock you rifles and
be wady!—“Eat ye burute E.” as the
immkculatc feller said, when he got stab
bed ii the back in the House of Repre
sentatives!
Lokg and loud were the shouts ot the
’ oratorfe party, and it was with difficulty
silencd could be maintained, until at last
. the opposing speaker mounted the stump.
He eontnenced in the following classical
manners
Fellert Citizens: There amt no one
skeered *1 this crowd ? I’m not afflicted
like Chaney Cupliver, with the disease
called E nlorubus unurn ! “Tempt us
fugit,” by \the concordat and evacuating
nabob, of .Jerusalem ? Old Jim Grimes
thought frighten me with his Greek!
but 1 can pt|t in the big licks and pile on
as much aginy as he ever heard off—
“Puestultus 1 !” “ Santa Parissima Block,
■ Island Point Judih Lex taglionis!” “ Ilis
toria Sucre ! ’and fulucet et Broadax !”
, What does the fellow think of himself
I now?” He’s a travelling synagogue; but
he can’t catch me with his high felutin
words! Vote for Tom Cressy, he’s a
horse and so am I ? “ Ecco signum !”
“Abinito!” Da jure and dum spire,
spere, Hurrah for Tom Cressy !”
We stood at Wolfs Mouth r or nearly
three hours, and had the satisfaction of
seeing Tom Cressy elected ; ali through
• the superior learning of the last speaker.
Adroitness. —Hotne Tooko was the
son of a poulterer, which he abided to
when called upon by* the proud sti'plings
of Eton to describe yiimself. “i, am,”
said Horne, “ the s<»u of an ct. inent
Turkey merchant.”
Culture of tkeybucumbcr. \
| I will state a fact relative to the pant
ing of cucumbers whicli came under my
' observation, and which rs worthy of bang
! known. I shall at least! give a furtier
trial myself of its reality! though I ern
| not conceive there is a dchibt rcmainLj?
Lon the subject. Last spraig, a friend j'
mine and myself were planting cucun.
' bers at the same time. I Was planting
J mine as is usual in gardens* by mixing A
small portion of stable manhre with the
" earth, and raising the hill anlinch or two
above the surface of the gktund. Ob
serving it, he jocosely remarked, “ Let
t me show you how to raise cucumbers!”
i Never having much luck in raising them,
r I cheerfully agreed to his proposition.
3 He commenced by making holes in the
s earth, at the distance intended for tho
■ hills that would hold about a peck—he
: then filled them with dry leached ashesJ
I covering the ashes with a very smau
; quantity of earth. The seed were then
j planted on a level with the surface of tlje
i ground. I was willing to see the expert- :
, ment tried, but had no expectatioiyof any
■ thing but a loss of seed, labour, and soil
■ But imagine my astonishment.(notwith
i standing a drier season never y 4as knowr
! and almost a universal failupfe of gardei
■ vegetables,) when I beheld /tines remark
1 ably thrifty, and as fine aycrop of cucum
ber's as any one need wish to raise, and
continuing to bear for very long time ;
unusually so, in fact. /I will not philoso
phize or moralize on mis subject, but say
to all try, it—and instead of throwing
your ashes in a useless heap to stumble
over, near your door, put it to-its proper
use, and reap your rich reward.” —Ohio
Farmer. *
(k7” Rum in is harmless , •
but in mens heads it pjays the very j