MI I= READ & H. H. FRAZIERbED.I.TORS , Pima Harper's Weekly.. NOTHING TO WEAR. .10: Erisona or CITY LUPE • IMIF;;IFLORA Men : Ja:3E; of Madison SqUare, Ila.s made thtee separate journeyslto Parka, Anithcr father assures me each tirne'she was there That she and her friend. Mrs. Harris (NMI the lady whose isame is so famous is history, • Rut 'plain Mrs. 11., without romsnee.pr mystery,) Spent six consecutive vieeki without stopping, one cmtinuotts round of shopping; Shopping alone and shopping togetper, •. At all hours of the'day and in all sorts Of weather, For pll manner of things that a woman mut put On the crown of her head or the sole of her foot, Or Wrap round her f.houlders or fit round her waist, Or that can be sewed on or pinned'on or laced, - Or tied on ult.; a string or stitched 'on with a bow, I n f ron t Or b e hind, above or below ;:, For hozinets, mantillas, capes, collars, and shawls, 'Presses fur breakfasn3, and dinners, and balls; Dresres and stansi in, and walk in; Dresses to ii,nce in, and flirt in,- and: talk in; Dresi33.%4 in which to do nothing Dresses for wititt.r, Sprillp, summer, and : AU of them diffemnt in 7 eolor and pattern, :Silk, muslin and lace, crape, velvet, and satin; Pro6lide and broadcloth, and other material Quite as expensive and mach more ethereal ; • • In st ort, for all things that Could ever be thought of, Or millit.er, modeste, or tradesman be bought of, From, ten-thonsand-frapc robes to twenty-sous frills; In all quaoter, Or Paris, and to every,store, While Stellinisey in vain stormed, scolded and swore; - They l footed the streets and he footed the bills.. • The last oil, their goods, shipped by' stetuner Arago, Foruied, Mell'onsey declares, the bulk of her cargo; Not to Mention a quantity kept from the rest, s u tti,iient to fill the largest-sized chest, \Vhitili did not appear on the ship's Manifest, But for which the ladies themselves inalifested Such , particular interest that they invested Their own. proper persons in lavers and rows. Of muslin:, embroideries, worked untlei ,,, loth es,. Gloves, Mina emit iefs, scarfs, and suclitrides as those; Them writ pped in great shawls,like Circassian beauties, t;art; griod-hy to the ship and go-by to the duties. lier relation- .itt home all taraill - elleti, ho doubt, . FlQra had grown so enormously — stout For atrne: nal belle arMa•pOssible„.britle t . But • the miracle cmsed ;rhea She eurned inside out, I~Aud the truth came tOlight,artd the dry goods beside; - Which, in spite of collector - and the custom-hcitise i=entiy, . . Had entered the port .without any entry And yet, though scarce three mouths have passed since the day The merchandise went, on twelve cuts up Broadway, This semi, Miss Mellintv, of Madison Square, The last time we met; was in utter despair Iteeause ,he had nothing whatever' to wear! Noi - mNG To wiAtt! - Now, as this is'a true ditty, . 1 do not ase..t—this, you know, is between us- 7 That sha's i , l ' a.state of absolute nuditt, • Like Power's Greek Slave or the Medici Venus: But I dthmean to say, I have heard her declare, When. Lt the 51mt: moment, she had on a dress - Which cost five hundred dollars, and•not a cent less, Arid jo% el ry worth ten times more, I should guess, That she had not a thing in the wide world to !rear! • • I Mention just here that nut of Miss Flora's Two hultdred and fifty or sixty adorers, had just 1.0•&u sideeted as he who should throw all The rc"t lei the shade, by the gracious bestoWal flu Th yself, niter twenty or thirty TleCtiOrtS, • frytvsil remand. which she call d her affections,' And that rather decayed, but well-known work of art, Whi c h She, Mora persisted in Styling " her heart.' ;So we were. engaged. Our troth had been plighted, • Not by moonbeam or starbea m, by fountain or grore, Rut in a front parlor, most brilliantly lighted, • Beneath the gas-fixtures we whispered . our lore. ,Without any romance, or raptures, or sighs, Without any tears in Miss Flora's blue eyes, Or blushes, or transports, or such sills actions, It was one of the quietest busirccas transactions, With a very small sprinkling oPentiment, if any, And a very largeoliattiond imported br Tiffany. On7her virginal lips whsle I printed a k iss, • She etelninted in a sort of:parenthesis, And way of putting me quite at my ease, ‘• Tint know I'm to polka as much as I please, / And flirt when I like-4low stop, don't you spcak- And vou must not come here more than twice hi the Irea, • ' Or talk 10 me. either at party or ball, flat alwac's,be reads to tome when I call; don't peole to me about beauty and stuff, • 'lf wqttliTkreak this off; there will be time enough"" Forthat sort of thing,; but the bargain must be • That, as long as I cliotese, I am perfectly free, For this is a sort of engagement, yott:see, • - Which is binding on you but not bidding on me." Well, he's-ing thus wo9edllisa-McFlim, sey and gained her, With the silks,crinolitieicand hoops that contained her. I had, as l thought,' a contingent remainder -• At least in the property, and the best right To appear as its egeort by day.and by night; • And it being the week of the fircmtur's grand ball— Their cards had been out a fortnight or so, - And set' , all the Avenue on the tip-toe— I tousid4d it only toy duty to Calk And see if Miss Flora intended to, go. I found her—as ladies are apt to be-found, • When the time intervening between the 6ist sound Of the hell and the vi'sitor ' s entry is Blurrier Than usual—l found; I won't say-,-I 'caught her— Intent on the pier -glass, undoubtedly meaning .• To see if perhaps it didn'tneed cleaning. She turned Its I entered—" Why, Hairy, you sinner, I thought that you went to the Flasher's to dinner!" " so I did," I replied, " but the dinner is swallowed, • And digested, I trust, fortis now nine or more, • So being relieved from that duty, I foliated . Inclination, which led me, you see,;to your door. And now win your ladyship so condescend ' As inforM me if you intend . . • Your beauty, and graces, and presence to lend, - All which, when boy a rs, I hope no one will borro*) 70 the Svt - rt:r.r's, whose party, ion know, is tomor- • • rot ?" The fair Flora looked up with a pitiful air, And fol , weretl quite promptly," Why flarry,mort cher, 1 should like above all things to go with you there ; But :.ually and truly—l've nothing twwear." , " N'othing• to wear I ro just as you are; Wear the dreis you have on,•and •t:ou'll be by far, • .1 engage, the most bright and particular star, . On thr. .`itue'sup horizon"—l stopped; for her eye, 'Scuu iti a:I1111 Ig this delicate onset of flattery, • .opcue4l on me at once a most terrible battery Of sem) and 'amazement. She maticato reply, • But ~ trtive a slight turn to the end or her nose ;That pure GriKtiuu feature,) as much as to say; How ahsurd that any sane man should suppose 11!,:t a lady would go to a ball in the ;clothes, o ntattervt,ow line, that she wears every day?" i•-• • iLo Yeuturedligliin--" Wear vour crimson brocade," oi..eand turn up of n0..4!)--" - That's :too dark by a shade:: ThaeS tyro heavy*: That's too light." LL Wear tulle over vaunt"—" I can't endure white. " Your rose-colored, then, the best of the lista"— I haven't a thread of point ktoe.itolnattelt." t '• Your brown inoiev Yes, and. look. like a Quaker ;". " The fozarimolored"="l would, but that plaguey dres6tinaker. : IL,: had it a week"—" Then that exquisite lilac, le wliivh :vim would melt the heart,ofa hibyloxk." • Ltlier e th e Ims.e took again the acme elevation) 'L I wnuldn't wear that for the whole of creation? Why not? lt's my fancy, there's nothing could .atiiioLit 1,1 taut"— "Yes, but„.',' dear me, that 11,411 .111 S4phrtial:i Stuckup has got one just like:it, And I a Oat nfmear demised like a chit of eisteen." "Their that splendid purple, that sweet Idizarine; mmm-b /win/ d'aiguith • that imperial green, ,feat 7.,:phyrdike tarletoo, that si :L seen . '"t one at all which iA,fit to be seen," - I ;he lady, ming'ezcitedeitmfaud llußhui "'rho! wear," I exclaimed; in a tune * et wthed 0 1;141-L . 1;4m, !! That. :gorgeous toilette 1 In I`nri> 14.4 t spring, at the - grand'prcsentat 1% hen pi t i quite turned the head- of the hea t .oii br .dl the grand court were so ..;oers t ,l." • L e /t/e Iran 66 FREEDCRA aIkID ROOMIT anamacm gLaWffG2'7 aincl ZUROROO99 • The end of the nose was portentously tipped up, 'And both the bright eyes shot forth indignation, And she burst upon me With the fierce exclamation, 4' There worn it three times at the least calculation, • And that and the most of my dresses are ripped up 1" Here I ripped 43art, something, perhaps rather rash, Quite innocent, though; but to use an expression More striking than classic, It " settled my hash," And proved very soon the bit act of our session. "Fiddlesticks, is it, Sir? I wonder the ceiling Doesn't fall down and crush you—oh, you men hare no feeling. , • - You selfish, unnatural, illiberal creatures, 'Motet yourselves up as patterns and preachers. Your silly pretense—why what's mere guess it is Prey, what do you know of a woman's necessities?. I have told you and shown youTre nothing to wear, And it's perfectly plain you not only don't care, But you do•not believe me" (here the nose went still higher.) "I supposed if you dared you Would call me a liar. Our engagement is ended, sir--yes, on the spot; You're a brute, and a monster, and—l dtineow what." I mildly suggested the words-.Jlottentot, Pickpocket, and cannibal, Tartar, and thief, As gentle expletives which might give relief ; , But this - only proved as spark to the powder, Aid the storm I had raised came faster and louder, It blewsnd it rained, thundered, lightened and hailed Intetjections,verbs;pronouns, till language quite failed To express the abusive, and 'then its arrears _ Were brought up all at once by a torrent of tears, And my last faint,;despairing attempt at an obs- Ervation was lost in a tempest of sobs. Well, I felt for the lady, and felt for my hat, too, Improlised nn the : crown'of the latter a tattoo, In lien of expressing the feeliit--"s which lay Quite too deep for,words„ as Wordsworth would say ; Then, without going throtigh'the form of a boa - , Found myself iU th entry—l hardly knew how— On door-step and sidewalk, pastlamp-post .ind square, At home and up stairs, in my - own easy chair; Poked my feet into slippers; my fire into blaze, And said to Myself, as I lit my, cigar, Supposing a nianl,hatl the wealth of the Czar Of the Russiasi to boot, for the rest of his days, On tini' whole, do you think he ,would have much to spare • - If he tart ied a Woman with nothing to wear? t Since that night, tiling pains that it should not be britited. .. i ' ~ r Abroad in society,-I've instituted A course of inquiry, "extensive and thorough, On this vital subject, and find, tii my horror, That the fair Flora's case is by no means surprising, , But that there exists the grettiest distress • In our female cominunit3-, solel arising - From this nnsup'died destitu on of drep, Whose unfortunate ; victims are lling theair With the pitiful wail of "N'othi g to - wear." . • i Researches in some of the " ryiper Ten" districts Reveal the most reilriful and st*tbeg st a tistics, Of which let me mention onlv -.4few : In one, single house, on the kit Avenue, Three young ladies were found, .11 below twenty-two, Who have been three whole vi - lks without anythiug - • newi , ' 1 In the way of tlouneed silks, an,,ltt Are unable to go to ball, comer In another large mansion near- Was Tonnd a deplorable, heat Of entire d e stitution of Bruss In a neighboring block the wt Total want, long continue , ofj And a su ff ering felony., hose d /t The most pressing nee of rent One deserving young4ady, alto i To survive-_for - IF-iiirra...et•a rie , confiued tit the ho Than usual, her shawl Still another, w ose tortures Ever since ill sad ' loss of the f In which we .engulfed, not 14 (For a hose/rite she perhaps nil solatioe, -t.:. Or berne'it,- at least , with sere e resignation) But the choicest assortment o ,French sleeves and collars - - ~- -Eve/ sent out from Paris, worth thousands of dollars, And ,all as to 'style most rrcher' he and-rare, The want of which leaves herith nothing to wear. .And renders her life so drear a - II dyspeptic, .That she's quite. a veclase,•an lmost a skeptic, For she touchingly says that .'s sort of grief Can not find in Religion the a . htest relict, And Philosophy has not ain im to spare For the victims of such overw )ming despair.. But the saddest be farofall di e sad features ~ i t To the cruelty practiced upon t ' e poor creatures By husbands and fathers, real t luebeards and rations, Who r e sist the most touching tryseals made for dia monds -- ' • By their wives and their daug Iters, and leave them for days .Thisupplied with new jewehy, ~. us or boquets. Even . laugh at their miseries w ,encicr they have a chance, And deride their demands as e.'• liss extravagance; One case of a bride. was broug to my view, Too sad for belief, hut alas! 't is too true Whose husband refused, an *a ~'ge as Charon, To permit her to take more ' ten trunks to Sharon. The consequence was, that, w . .... idle got there, Ai the - end of three weeks she - ' nothing to wear, And when she proposed to ith the season At Newport, the monster re ' ' out and out, - For his infamous conduct 1 giCg no reason, Except that the waters were gold for his gout ; Such treatment as this was tocOhocking, of course, And proceedings are now goinon for divorce. But why why harrow the Feelings by : Biting the curtain From these scenes of woe ? ineugh, it is certain Has here been disclosed to stirriap the pity Of every benevolent heart.in the city, . And spur up humanity into ac _ ter To rush and reliet:e these' sad seises instanter. , Won't sornehod,y, Moved by thiS tonchmg description, Come forward to-morrow stud head a subscription? Won't some kind philanthropist; seeing that aid is So needed at once by these indigent ladies, Take charge of the matter? or on't PETEL: Coorill The corner-stone lay of some lendid super- . Structure, like that which t 'U V links his name 0 4 In the 'Union unending of ho ; and fame; - And found a new charity just r the care Of these unhappy-women with, nothing to wear, Which, in view of the' cash Which would daily be claimed, • V •The Latrieg-out hospital welitnigla be named! Won't S-rewar.r, or some of Que : dry-goods importers, Take awsontract fur clothing our : at - it-es and our daugh ter.t Or, to furnish.the cash to supply 'these distresses, And life's pathway strew with shawls, collars, and dresses, - s. - Ere the want of them makes it much rougher and thornier, . Won't some one discover a new California? Oh ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway, From its whirl mid its bustle, its fashion and pride, And the tewplea of Trade which tower on each side, To the alleys and lanes, wherellisforttme and Guilt Their children have gathered, their city hare built; Where Hunger and•Fice, like twin beasts of prey, Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair; Raise the rich,dainty dress,and the fine broidered skirt Fick your aelicati was through the dampness and dirt, Grope 'through the dark dens, climb the rickety stair, To the garret, where wretches, the young and the old, Half-starved and hall-naked, lie crouched from the " Your pink," cold.. _ - • See those skeleton limbs, those frost-bitten feet. All' bleeding and: bruised by the dimes of the Street ; Hear the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groans that - swell From the poor dying creature who writhes on the Boor, Hear the curses that sound like the echoes of Hell, its you sicken and shudder and fly from the door; Then home to your wardrobe*, and say, if you :We— Spoiled children of Fashion—you've nothing to wear! And oh, if perchance there should be a sphere, Where all is made right which 'so purtles us here, Where the glare, and the glitter, and tinsel drupe Fade .and die in the light of that region sublime, :Where the soul, disenchanted. Of flesh and.of sense, Unscreened by ha trappings, and shows, and pretense, Must be clothed for the life and the service above, With purity, truth, faith, meekness and love; h quite hich you Oh, daughters of Earth! foolish virgins, beware! Lest in'that upper realm you hare nothing to wear! on, [tion , of the na- A FRES. fIiaILULALTIOI4—.-" Mg transit giorie mop ."' Thank goodness, washing day is over! CO= 4 1t s left in the lurch or church. ;be same place .1 • uding case '-joint lace. • . found, in three calls. - tels'-hair shawl:4 ; 'itnke cahibits iermine tippet.; , nn »lc. R, n gable; • 'hen •ts 'windier n't India, • e been Moat terrific " . •amer Porife, end or relation, iht hart found con- MONTROSE .: Who Wrote "Nothing to We,arl" An article relating to the authorship if the poem " Nothing to Wear," having a - peered in the Courier and Enquirer, giVin l l . circulation to a report " prevalent in privy circles," and based. ".upon authority in ever ni respect reliable," tat the authorship is .clai - ed by a young lady, and that her paren corroborate the claim, and account fur i publication, "by the fact that she lost th 6 manuscript, and was surprised to see it i print With'additions and alterations," Wit - iam Allen Butler, Esq., has a le ter 4'the Courier, in which he says : a rhave not hitherto avowed the autho - ship of this poem, bUt when an allusion tom - name is coupled with 4.charge of .stealing the literary productions of a girl `not out of her teens, 'and permitting their publicatio as my own, and when currency is given t • such a report in the columns of a - respect - ble journal, 1 feel called upon to state pu i. licly and witliont,delay that it is entirely u - true. - The poem in question was written b • me during intervals of leisure running thr ' several months, and ',whatever may be i': merit or want of merit :as a literary work, is exclusively my own; no line or tHoughtil it having been suggested to me by, or dp i rived by Inc from any other person or soure( and any assertion to the. contrary is entire! false." Rev. Isaac Peck, an Episcopal clergyman of New 'York, claims the authorship of par of the poem for his daughter, in the follow ing letter to the Evehing Post, written afte • the appearance of Mr. Butler's card: GENTLEMEN : The statement copied b: i you on Saturday,Trotit the Courier and . .EaL quirer, - contains some errors, whichMav bt most 011•etually eorrettml by. a story. of fact such as I first teeeiyea them. The statemen originally male by me was as follows : Q . My. daughter, about a year ago,' in a rain ble through the woOds near the house - where I reside, accidentally tore the skirt of her .dress : This incident caused her to exclaim with perhaps some vexation, "There, no', I've nothing to wear!" and this exclaMatior was succeeded by the reflection, " llow many arc in the habit of declaring they have• . - noth• in g to wear, who really have no just rease for the complaint; while., on the other -hand multitudes might.inake the same complain with truth as well as sorrow !" Being In tit habit of composing almost daily, in .prose in verse, she •composed and wrote down, otl her return home, the following fragment: • To the alleys and dens of misfortune and _crime ! • Raise th*C rich dainty dresses,.and careful essay Up• the long-worn and rickety staircase to climb: Through the dampness and dirt make your delicat , Hear the - sharp cry of childhood, the groans that - re ' sound From the poor dying creature who writhes on th floor ; The oaths that profuse like . hiblPs - echoes abound,. And the prayers which the starving pour • supplian round For the land whe - re the famished shall hunger n! more. • • lu a day or two she :altered and entargt these lines as ftpllows: Oh, ladies, dear ladies the next sunny day, Just trundle your hoops quite out of - Broadway, • To the alleys and lanes where misfortune and guilt, Their child - run have gathered, their-city have built; Raise the rich dainty dress and theline broidered ski ; Pick your delicate way, through the dampness* an dirt, To the garret where wretchek the young with the of Bah starved and half naked lie crouched from the col Mark those skeleton limbs and those half-frozen fee All bleeding and cut by the stones of the street. • Hear the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groan that swell .' • ~1 1 From the poor dying creature that writhes on di'. floor; Hear the curses that sound like the echoes- of hell, 1 As you sicken and shudder and fly from the door. Then—home to your wardrobe and say if you dare, Spoiled children of failion you've nothing to' wear And,Oh ! if perchance there shouldsoon come a *The+ Where all is wade right that so puzzles us here; Where we, disenchanted of 11&11 and of sense, Unveiled by the trappings of aho*, and pretence, Must be clothed for the life and the service. above, With purity, innocence, faith, truth and foie; Then, daughters of earth fooLh virgins, beware Lest in that upper realm you have nothing to wear ' In the course of a week or two after above 11%118 written, she composed—what a• intended as the beginning of her poem— following six lines:— Miss Flom M'Flimsey, of Madison .square, Made three separate journeys , to Paris And, her father assures me, each time shoe was the That she and her friend, Mrs. Harris, Spent six consecutive weeks without stopping, In one continual mund of shopping. i - These three fragments, the first consisting of nine, the second of twenty-fbur, and the third of six lines, were written by her on the same :sect of paper, and subsequently brought with her on a visit:to this city. Sh had the manuscript in her hand on leavi g the cars near Twenty-sixth street, and in pa • ing through the crowd it was dropped an lost . Yours respectfully; ISAAC PECS. , New York, July 27th, 1657. . The lines hi the published- poem whi most resemble those given in ?Ai / Peek's l• ter, are the fidlowing:— • - • Hiss Flora meprim qcT, of Madison square, Has made three separate journeys to ]'4114.5, And her father assnres "me, each time she *as the That she and her friend, lint. - (Nut th e ta t ty whose name it so famous in history, • Baseplain. Mrs. 11., rithourTtiiiattrc or mystery,) Spent six consecutive weeks without stopping, .11] one continuous round of shopping. - • e Oh, ladies, dear ladieg, the next sunny }'leave trundle your hoops jgst out of Broadvray, From its t•liirl and its buAtte, its fashion andpride, Awl the trpnrirs of trade Trh.irli tuner en each side, l . To the alleys and canes where Misfortune and Guilt Their children have gathered, their city hare built Where Hunger and Vise, like twin beasts of prey, Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair; Raise the rich dainty dress and the 'fine broidered skirt; Pick your delicate way through the dampness and Bert; Grope through the dark dens, climb the rickety Odin To the garret where wretches, the young and the old, R a lf s t arve d a nd half naked,lie crouched from the cild. See those skeleton limbs, those frost-bitten fret, All bleeding and bruised by the stones of the street; Rev the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groans that swell From the poor, d} ins creature who writhes on ii floor Rear the curses that souud like the echoes of hel , As you sicken and shudder, and fly from the d. • . Then, home to your Wardrobe, and say, if you dart,. • Spoiled children of fashion, you've nothiag to wear. And, ob if perchance, • there should he a- sphere.) Where all is made right which so puzzles ua here, Where the vices, and the glitter, walk"! of Auie and die in the light of that region Where the aim!, disenchanted, of Beth Ind of Unsereenest by its trappings and shows- and p Must be clothed for the life and the servige abOvit With purity, truth, faith, ineeknear and love. OA! daughters of earth, %ail:. virgins beware Lest in that upper realm yolk have nothing to wear 1. off, :and 111 tell you the whole affair after.— . I promin you that not one studl even receive if they 'will foliow my di. , egr Win' are good busbands like flou^,11? li' omen a scratch , that is, (k) nead thew. ~.. . rections implicitly.' , 1 THURSDAY, AUGUST 27, 1857. TALE OP FRONTIER LIFE. TIII OCTPOBT TOWARDS the latter part of the year 1751, the French, aided by vast bodies of the flu ron and Iroquois Indians had begun to make themselves very disagreeable neighbors to the British and American oolonistsin northern Virginia, Ohio, and the northwest portions of New -York Statthe French by their en =hmeats on the frontier, and the Indians eir numeroits forays, and savage bar barity to all who were unfortunate enough to fall into their hands. To put a stop to these aggressive proceed ings, numerous bodies, both of regulars' and the colonial militia, were dispatched.to the several points • assailed, and amongst the rest, a Col. Henry Innes, with a company of th i rty men, among .them were a party of . some dozen Virginia riflemen, was ordered to occupy a small outpost, or log fort; which . at this period stood within a few miles of the north fork of-the Allegheny river. - Having arrived safely at their quarters, the little company ,set aboiif righting up the old post to make it as comfortable as circum stances would. permit; and this being dune and order once inure restored, sentries were placed at all the advanced points of the sta tion- while the itrictest vigilance was both en joined and exercised by day. and night'. • Among the Virginia riflemen who had vol unteered. into the company, was a tall, manly, .fine-looking young fellow, who, from his fatal and unerring skill as i marksman bad receiv ed the somewhat awe inspiring nom de plume —l)eath. But with whatever jostle& this rair.e had been applied , to him for his skill, his disposition certainly - entitled him to no such terror-si reading epithet. On the con trary. he was the very life of the-company. ' His rich fund of mother wit, large social • propensities, and constant good nature, ren d .!red him a ge.iteral favorite with the men ; • while the never failing stock of . game which ir i s skill enabled : him. to,supply the mess tit,. hie of the of fi cers with, not only recommend, ed him to their good graces, but caused many short-coming, of his to be winked over in silence, which, otherwise, perhaps he might not have got over so easily. The .company had 'not been stationed at the - fort =eh mere thana week, ere Peath, in one Of his excursions for game, discovered that at "a small farm house, some three or so " miles.distant from the fort,' there lived a cer tain 'Miss Hester Standhope,. whose equal in. beauty and amiable qualities be had not - seen before. And- to render himself - still more certain of the fact,. he called the day follow. ing, under cover of the pretense of having' left his powder-flask. . Death was invited to come again, by Far mer Standhope, who happened to be from, . the same parish as the father of our':hero; and we need scarcely say that the invitation was accepted, and as often as circumstances would 'permit, complied with. The second week after this occurrence took place, was marked by two • events, which, though both affecting the welfare of the little community at the fort, were of widely diffe rent degrees of importance. The first was, that Death had either sud- • denly lost all his- skill - as a marksman, or, . that the game had removed to a safer and .more distant neighborhood, for the officers' larder had been found sadly wanting in the items of woodcocks, blackcocks, partmigan, &C., for the week past-4ind the second and most important of the two events, was, that in regular succession, four sentinels •hta dis appeared from the extreme left line, without leaving the slightest trace to elucidate the mystery of their disappearance. -This. last circumstance struck such dread into the breasts of the rest of the company, that no - one could be found willing to volun teer to take the post 7 -well knowing that it would be only like ligniug their own death warrant to do so; and Col. lanes, noVivish ing to wilfully sacrifice the lives :of -his . men. by compelling them to go, enjoined double caution to the remainder of the sentinels, and left the fatal post unoccupied for a night or two. - • " Two or three reconnoitering parties had been dispatched ofr runs the neighborhoo in the hope of finding some due to the myltery, .or obtaining some intelligence of the enemy, but they had each of them returned as wise as they started, with no reward for their trouble saveweary bones. It was on the third night of the desertion of the post that our hero, Death, was return. ing to the fort, after paying a visit to Stand-. hope Farm :—The moon was uP, but her light was nearly all obscured by the dense mas3es of clouds which .every few minutes were driven by a pretty stiff breeze over her Lice, while the huge trees, now all in full leaf, creaked and groaned, and their tall forms swayed to and fro, as the heavy gusts. rush ed whistling in among their branches. Our hero had approached within a hundred yards of the termination of the forest-that skirted the small open space in r silhich the fort stood, when suddenly he paused, and crouching down on his hands and knees, cr,ept cautiously forward a few paces. Having re mained in.bis position fur several minutes, he again stealthily retreated in the manlier he had advanced • and plunging into the forest, again emerged at a point considerably lower than where he had intended to leave it be fore. Col. hoes sat reading, alone, in his private apartment, when an orderly entered and informed• him that one of the men wished to speak to him. - . `Send him in,' said the Colonel ; and at the next minute our Gietid, Death, had 'en tered, and made his best bow to his com manding officer. • ' Well, what scrape have you been getting into now? said the Colonel,whet. he saw who hisArisitor was. None, Colonel,' replied Death, but I have , come to ask a favor.' e `Let us hear it,' said the di:donel, and we will then see whas we can dot'.' • • Well, Colonel It is sliziplrtida—if yon will put the • rifles' under my alders to-night, and let . me occupy the deserted post, will not only clear up the mystery of the disap pearanoe of our four sentries, but make the post tenable for the future.* • . 'But howl" said the Colonel, in intense surprise. '1 giiess, Colonel,' answered Death, ',you had better let me have the men, and order us '.You aro a strange man,' said . the Colonel, but I think I will let you have your own way this time. When do you intend to start V In about an hour's time,' answered Death. ' Very well, I will give the necessary or ders, so that you can start *hen you think proper. And what is more,if you will per form all that is promised, and don't cause me to repent having humored you, you shall have poor Campbell's place: - Hector Campbell was a brave but "very headstrong young Scutchman who had occu pied the post of Lieutenant at the fort. In a sudden freak of daring he had volunteered to stand. sentry 'at the fatal spot from which three sentinels had already so mysteriously disappeared,and he paid for his rashness with his life. 'Now, my lads,' said Death, as in about un hour after his , conversation with Cot In nesl ho approached the deserted post ,- at the head of a dozen riflemen who bad been tem porarily placed under his orders, will tell you what we arc going to do.. The long and the short of the affair is simply this,' it's a gang of them cussed, thievin' Iroquois that have circumvented and-carried otT our four men--:shooting them with their arrows, and then decamping 'with their bodies. • . To-night, as I was returning to the fort, I suddenly thought I heard the sound of seve ral voices and creeping on my hands, and • knees towards the spot, got nigh enough to see and hear about a dozen Iroquois were there 'and arranging their plans-. to surprise the fort to night—iniending to steal upon it, by the point whiclko.their cussed devilry had rendered so easy.Of access. I only stopped long enough to learn this, when hurried oft to the Colonel, and asked him to place you at my disposal, and here we. are. I did r.ut say a word to hits about what I had learned, but determined that if possible . the 'rifles' should have allthe honor of exterminating the varlets. And now I ask you, are,you willing and ready to follow my orders?' Every man cheerfully answered in the af firmative, and with qUickened pulses and 'sanguine hopes, the. little company aza;n moved forward. • The post consisted of a long, narrow: space, bounded on each side by a rocky, shelving bank ; while its extreme end was closed in by the dark and impenetrable looking ft>rest. The bank on each side of the pass-was thick ly covered with .brush . and underwoOd, and among these .Denth now carefully concealed his•men.; taking dire so to arrange them that their fire would cross each other , and bidding them cot to fire tiny. he gave the signal, and after they had fired; not to stop forr reload, but clubbing - their rifles, to jump down and finish the struggle in that manner. With steady alacrity each man took. up the post 'assigned him; and in . another .min ute; the spot . presented the same lone, still and solemn appearance it had worn - previous to their arrival. The little company had begun to grow Very impatient, and Death, himself, to fear that the Indians had either rued of making the attempt, or else had changed their plan of attack, when suddenly his quick eye de tected the form of one of his crafty foes is suing in a crouching position from the deep shadow which the lofty trees. threw far up the pass. Three—six—nine—tivelve—thirtem,' counted Death, as one after another they emerged in single file from the wood, and with quick catlike stealithness of movement, advanced up thepass • their rifles in trail, and their faces and bodies rendered still more hideous and ferocious looking by the grotesque mark ing of their war-paint ...Con they came swiftly and silently, d all unconscious of - the fate that was in sfhre for them. The foremost of the band,whose command ing stature, wolf-teeth collar and eagle tuft, at once proclaimed him as chief, had advanced until 'he was directly opposite the bush in which Death was hid, when the latter with startling distinctness suddenly, imitated the cry of the night owl, and discharged his rifle. Eight of the 'lndians fell by the volley; which - the remaining riflemen now poured' in upon them; but strange to say, one of the -five who did not fall, was the chief -whom Death. had aimed at. This unusual event was owing to the following cause . ; the branch of the bush on which he had steadied his arm in firing, had suddenly yielded at the moment he discharged his piece, thus rendering harm less his otherwise unerring aim. . Uttering an imprecation of his ill luck Math sprang down the -bank to the rest of his companions, and . with one bound le reached the side of the Iroquois chief ; they grappled and both fell heavily to the ground, clasped in a fearful embrace, and darting glances of savage hatred at each other beneath their knitted and scowling brows. Keep off!' shouted Death, as he saw one or two of his companions in the act of stoop. itig down to assist keep off! and if he limiters me let him go.' . Over and over they tolled, writhing and straining, but seemingly neither obtaining any advantage over the' other. At last the head of Iroquois suddenly came. in contact with the point of a rock that protruded from the bank, stunning him so that he relaxed his vice-like grip . _ of Death's , throat ; and the lat ter, thus reletsied, springing tohis feet, fin ished his career by bringing the heavy breach of his rifle with sledge balancer force down upon his head. The remaining four Indians bad been like wise dispatched; and . the victorious riflemen (none of whom had received any wound worth mentioning,) now sent up a shout of triumph over their victory that the echoes of the old wood rung with it for minutes after. - As Col. limes had promised, Death was promoted to the - vacant post of Lieutenant; and now, dear reader, we beg to inform you tot. our hero and the uncompromising vet: ertan, General Morgan, of revolutionary no toriety, were one and the same individual. • About a fortnight after this eventful night, Standhope Farm became the scene of as much mirth, good eating, and , dancing, as could be possibly. disposed of during the twenty-fout *wry; 'and though we think it will be almost superfluous to do so we will . add, that the cause of ".merry-making," was the marriage of the beauteous Hester Standhope with Lieutenant Henry Morgan. `l- . F-tTbe knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and -the belief of truth, which islhe enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature; that is to say, it would be, or rather, it will.be, when we shall arrive at O knowledge and a love or the truth. That time is nut yet.. - H. H. FRAZIER, PUBLISHER---VOL. 3. NO. 38. A HORSE 'STORY A keeper of a hotel not fifty mites from Boston, is, or was, a famous man for horses, owned many, and was always 'ready for a trade in such cattle. Ile was sharp at a bar gain, and was never knoi-n to make a move that didn't count on his side, until the follow ing hippened, that proved an exception to the rule. He always had some particular horse oa . haml. for every particular emergency of trade, and the adroitness of his operations in putting off a beast was a subject for delighted approval on all hands among connoisseurs of that delightful and muck abused animal, the horse. No one ever - traded with &Ale that did not confess himself satisfied, though,sat isfaction, being . a latitudinal word, did not al ways mean that the satisfaction was the ulti mate of happiness in the trade—like the same term in connection with the duello. There was &jolly 'cobbler whose . name was \Vat, that occupied a small shop near - th hotel, to whom Statile was accustomed to re fer in case of any stick in a transaction, and ;he being a disinterested man, would decide on the matter of difference, always-r—howev- er, by what wits deemed a strange fittality, deciding in favor of Stale. Some, however, went so far as to intimate that Sterne and the cobbler had talked-the matter over previous ly, and had certain signs by 'which they uti derstood each other. . When the . stick came, then Statile would say, Well, well, we can't get along any -fur ther. Now i'm willing to leave it to a third party, and as Mr. Wax, around the corner, knows the' value of. the horse.l ain swapping with you, : he will be as good find candid an arbitrator as we can find, and.auess I'll call him." Mr. WaX would. se- r c dingly come out, leather apron and. all, an , after looking at the matter candidly, w Id decide that Stafile receive a smart co sideration as the difference in value, and t s would settle it pine times in ten. One day there came along astranger with a pretty good horse, and it was at once an ob ject of Statue's interest.. lle examined the horse in all his points, and determined to haVe him. The determination worked itself up to a positive fever. by next morning ; and when the stranger's horse was led out to be har nessed, -Statile stepped oot and asked• the owner, who was looking on, seeing that the harness was adjusted properly, if be didn't want to swap horses. The stranger told him he hadn't the least objection, provided he could make a little something out of•it. - " Well," said Stalk, `.‘l'in glad to hear you say so. .John, brin g out the red colt." The red colt was accordingly brought oil. - It's name was a misnomer: It was one:Of those animals that, having been called ,j. colt when legitimately entitled to the appe - fation,. had forfeited it. by. the offense of age, and was now sailing under false colors. - The stranger looked at the "colt," and gave. .a whiStle as he saw the discrepancy between the title and the age. " Well," said he at last, • "how shall we trade . ? What are you willing to give to boot?" " Boot !" said Staille, with'reigned surprise, " the hoot is on the other leg,. I think." " Ah," said the man, "well, if you think so,we will situp negotiation. Good morn- - ing.” • "Hold on," cried Stafile ; "hold on— don't be in such a hurry.' Stippose I should offer you--siy, twenty-five dollars—how would that please you?" "It would not please me at all," was the reply. " I shouldn't wait to take less than eighty dollars." " Well," said Stall?, " I can't do, that; " but I'll tell you what I will do—l'll leave it out to somebody." . "Done," replied the stranger; "anything for a trade. Whom will you leave it to?-- Somebody, I hope, that knows what a good horse is." s , • "Never a better, sir,' said State, _ delight edly ; and here's just the man, of all others, . that I would like , to see, coming into the yard. Good morning, Mr. Wax." Wax nodded good morning back again, and said so, and then stood with hislands under his apron looking at the horses. - - " Mr. Wax," continued Stale, "this gen- tleman and myself are about trading horses, and we want you to decide on the amount of boot that lam to.pay him. You know what an excellent horse. the coult' is, and c a n judge by eomparing the two, what the differ ence should be." " Mr. Wax, are you a good judge of hors es 1" asked the stranger: Mr. Wax nodded, and looked up into his face, as much. as to say, "I should like tO ,have you find a better one." He then pro ceeded gravely to examine the two, and, after standin,a with 'his arms akimbo fur some min utes said— .. , : "I should think seventy-five dollars would be about right." ~ . Good," 'said the stranger ; " five dollars isn't much in a trade. Give me seventy-fivn dollars, and- take the horse." Stet& was red as a beet, and drawing out his pocket-book, -he counted out seventylve dollar; and- paid them- over. The transfer was made in BHence, and the stranger drove away. After be had gotIV, Steak, turned to Wax; who stood there- very smilingly, say ing- - "That was a devil of a trick you played me. What was you thinking of? Didn't you uriderstatid the colt' was mine?" . - `Yes," replied - Mr: Wax; . 4 but you. didn't suspect that the other Urge was mine, did you 1 I bought him vesterday on specula tion."—Basten Saturday Gaiette. . MRB, PARTINGTON'SOPINipN OF - GENIUS.- " I don't know what you Mean by genius, said Mrs. Partington with animation, Nihile. speaking of the merits of a tyro, who • had just given evidence ot a wonderful ability by improvising, ostensiblyos poem, before the institute of which he is a member." " I don't • know what' you mean 'by genius iLhe ha.sn't 'got' it, for didn't he impoverish poetry .bellire the literary destitute; l'shonld like to knOw, and receive lots of reprobation for h from people who know_ what good poetry is !" There was a triumph 'in the 'tone of her. voice, and .though .her 'antagonist smiled, she evi= dantly had hint, because . he made no farther . remark, except to.request her to (snivel Ike to discontinue blowing beans at him, as sev eral ha& come in rather: close proxitnity to his nose. Ike said ho was blowing them .at Lion. • • • . 1* * 6 A bitteejest is tiie poison of frientisliip = ~ The Patch on Xr. Karey'slreechee. Haiper's Weekly relates the following an- ' ecdotes of Mr: Marcy he was Gov. error of this State, he was visiting Newburg on some publia Occasion, and with& party of gentlemen, Whigs and Democrats, was at the Orange Hotel, - ;Good humor. was -pre vailing, and one story suggested another.-7. The Governor always enjoyed a story; and • could tell one wish excellent effect. A' Whig lawyer was present t and the Governor,,recog nixing him„ - said : I'll tell. Yon ,- a , good story. of Spooner. The other dayhe came up to AI- - bony, on his way to the Whig Convention at Utica, and so he took it in his way to call on me to get a pardon for . a convict at Sing Sing. I beard the case, examined the doeu ments, and being satisfied that all was right, agreed to grant the request. Spooner handed me the — paper to endorse, and I wrote, ' Let pardon be granted. W. L. Marcy ;' when Spooner cried' out, ! Hold, bold ‘ Governor ! that's the wrong paper r And sure enough, it was a whip 'Teeth Out' he was going to, make at Utica, abusing me the worst possible, way. But I had granted the pardon in ad fiance, and I suppose he committed the offence , afterward." - The story was received with great applause and Spooner, beinglooked to fur a response, instantly went on with the following, -which, for an extempore story, certainly is capital " Yes, gentlemen—yes, I did. And when the Convention was over we went to Niagara and as we were dragging on by stage overmiserable corduroy roads, banging our heads against the - top of the Coach, and then corning down as if we were :to -go through the bottom, the stage came to a dead halt ; the driver ,dismounted, opened e door; and requested us all to descend, Vlre,did so, sup- , posing.' that seine accident had mecurred.- • When we were input, standing' on the ends of the . logs of which the-road was made, the • driver took off his bat and Gentlemen, we always stop here out of respect for the Governor; this is the identical spot where Marcy tore his pantaloons!'" • The•story was heard with great jollification, in which- no one - joined more heartily than the Governor himself . That pantaloon incident deserves to be re- , corded in every history of this great man.— He was sent out to hold special sessions of - court to try the anti-Mdsonic parties charged with murder. He was to receive, a salary and his expenses: With that niceregard for details that belonged to his sterling character, he kept a minute account of all his expendi tures, and handed in the list on his return, without thinking it proper to revise and strike out those items of a private nature, which other men, less scrupulous in great matters, might have carefully ~suppressed. There stood the tailor's charge for mending. The - political foes of the Judge., when be came to be candidate for Governor, found. it. and pa raded it before:the world in the newspapers; and making an effigy of Mr. Marcy, suspend ed it in the streets of Alhany,-with a great patch on the pantaloons,and ‘ the tailor's charge on the top of that. But an observant people saw through the patch and the charge into the heart'of an hon est man, and in ' that very deed of his - they recognized a frankness and"transparency of. character that commended _him to-their warm approbation. It is not probable that the pantaloon charge lost for ,him a single vote, while'it is doubtless; true that it made him multitudes of friends He was never asham ed of it, And never hid reason to be. MARRIED IN SPITE OF TirEmszLyss, Old Governor Saltonstall, of Connectiett, who flourished - some fifty years since, was a man of some humor, as. Nv ell as perseverance in. effecting the ends he desired.. Among other anecdotes told of him by Now London people, the place where he . resided, is the following : Of the.various stela that have flourished 63rtheir day and then ceased to exist, was one known as the Rogersites, so tolled, from their &under—John or Tom -or some other Rogers--who settled not far from the goodly town aforesaid. The distinguishing tenet of the sect was the denial of - the propriety and :se.ripturality of the farm of marriage. "It is not 'gOod for man to be alone." This they believed,' and . also that one wife only should " cleave to her husband," but then this should be is matter of agreemenwnerely, and the couple. should tome together and live as manand wife, dis pensing with all forms of the marriage ‘ coy 7 enant: The. old governor used— ' frequently to tali upon. Rogers and talk the matter over with him, and endeavor, to convince him of the impropriety of living with Sarah as. he did. But neither John nor. Sarah would give up the argument.' - • . It was a matter of conscience with thetti--L'' they. wet e very happy together its they were —of what use then could a mere 'matter of form be 1 Suppose they would thereby .es.. cape scandal ; were , they not bound "AO-talus up the.: cross, " and live„aceording to the rules _ they professed ? The governor's logic was powerh.s. He was in the neighborhood Of J-ohn one day, and meeting with him, accepted an Invi tation to dine with him. :The , - eonversation as usual, turned upon the old subj . eet.'• "Now, John," says thCi.governor, after a long pause, 4-why will you net marry- 6a rah 1 Have you • not taken her to be your ' wedded wife l 7 • • • . "Yes,- - certainly," replied John, " but my conscience will not permit me to marry her in thelortrt of the. world's people." .. '.4Very well. But you love her , "Yes." " And cherish her, to bone of youi bone, and flesh of your flesh" " Yea, I certainly db." • - " And .you, Sarah, love him and obey him, and respect him, and cherish him 1" - "Then," cried the Governor' rising, "in the name of. the laws . of God and of the Cont. monwealth of Connecticut, f - prunounce.lou in be-husband and.. Wife." - : • • . • The ravings and rage of John and Sarah were of no avail—the knot was tied by the highest authority in the %etc.- _ lar Time is the most precious and yet the most brittle jewel we have. lt, is what every man bids largely for when he wants it, but squanders when he gets it. • , • • poW" The American -Battet'ofPorternouth will'never surrender.. It goes—;.° For Frei ident (until elerted,) JUtui - C. Fremont. l % • 11 NM
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