MEE
pottrq.
Wir AMU the mass •of stuff which crowd our re-
apes nod rauptastnes under the name .' Poetry" ti.
is so tittle which is even, respectable versification, t:
it is really gratifying;Occesienally, to a sotnetir
whom, merit will support ci.
its pretentiong to the nano
'But we think the following verses are replete with We d
ado Taney, besides being,exceedingly ruuslcal.
trst know who is the author:
The Sun stepped down from his golden throne
And lay in the silent sea,
And the Lily bad folded her satin loaves,
- For a sleepy thing was she.
What is the Lily dreaming of?
'Why crisp the waters blue? . .
See, see I ,she Is lifting,her varnished lid,
Her white leaves are glistening through.
The Rose is cooling his burning cheek
in the lap of the breathless tide; - •
The-Lily bath 'sisters both fresh and fair,
That would lie by the rose's side;
Hi would leave her better than all -the rest,
And he would bo fond and true
But the Lily unfoldedbor weary lids,
And looked ;(t; the sky so blue.
"Remember, remember then, silly one,
. How fast will thy Summer - glide;
. And wilt thou winter a virgin pale,
Or flourish a blooming bride?"
"0 the rose is old, and thorny and cold,
Andlivea on the earth," said she;
"'tut the Star is fair, and he lives iu the air,
And ho shall my bridegroom be."
" But what lithe stormy cloud should come,
And softie the silver Rea?
Would he send his eye from tho distant sky
•To smile on a thing like thee?
0 no, fair Lily, he will nut send •
• One ray from his far-off throne; .
The winds shilll blow and the waves Elan flow,
And thou wilt Le left alone.
- •
4Therets no leaf on the mountain top,
--- rior,melrop of evening dew. -
.• Nor a golden sand on the sparkling shore,
Nora pearl in the Indian; blue,
That he has not cheered with his fickle smile,
And warmed with his faithless beam;
And will he be true to the pallid flower
That floats on the quiet stemma!"
Abu; for the Lily! she would not heed,
But turned to the skies afar,
And hafad her breast_ to the trembling ray
That shot from the rising star.
'The cloud came over the darkened sky.
And over the waters.wido,
She looked in vain through the beating rain,
And sank in the stormy tide. •
Pltrt ult.
TEE TWO PICTURES.
BT COATES ICINNET.
Battle of Inkermann!
Xs the day came up, struggling with t'
gloom of clouds, the vanguard had given atm
of that onslaught, which, before dig d riy
done, should make 1nkf.r..41.2..15n - second only
.
W &Lerma.
Ili:Mil
Through the foggy, drizzly dark, had bui
the blare of bugles, and fifes; and drums, n
rattling mtnketry; and the transition fn
deep to battle had been a transient inter\
of consternation; not the consternation
cowardice, however, but that of a sudd,
surprise.
To arms ! To the summoning martial mug
—drums, whose horrid roll, and fifes, who
thrilling shriek make the blood beat and stn •
in the veins—to the glorious martial rnusi•
man after man, column after column. cc mpa ,
after company they wheel into , array. Swift
and mightily as though hurled by the power
thunder, horse and plumed rider sweep o.
the field and along the lines, bearing t
hoarse command; and quick as thought thi
follow charges, and evolutions, and nublii.
preparations for blood. . - •
01 the battle of Inkerman would have but
a splendid
, sight to see in a broad field and
bright sun. But the nature of the ground at
the darkness of the day rendered it imp:mit
to take in more than a small scene of the grin
and terrible drains at one view.
Manta heroic deed was performed that (It
in obscure and solitary places, that left
record hut death. if , you found, in em.
gloomy:glen, a flush of carnage—corpses lyil
this:km, sheaves after the aiekle—you ku
there had been great achievements there ; I
they 1111 not illumine the pages of history; t
their memory sleeps in the burial trench
• 'With those who died enacting thorn:
Thirst for glory, such as is slaked by him
• • had lured' young Cecil Gray from his hap
Lome in, , old England, to the camp and t
Geld. He was an officer in the Fifth Drage())
add as.:we have en intermit in him :now, let
wateh,the performnnee of the Fifth on ti
'dais of Inkermann,
le it not they yonder on the height 1; I
lie get nearer them ; for this dismal day, is
like * twilight that ,we cannot distinguish t
On their buttons. Yes, it is 5. WI
noble fellows! How proudly they sit on th
-horses! 'With what an air of impatience th
lean forward, as the battle's din Inereases!
• How their nowtrllp dilate with the delay
opportunity !
Whiott of them la Ceeil Gray Do you el
'condor at the' right, 'that tall, noble you ,
°timer who itt gazing, with i looka of anspeal
Ma tenderness, upon alocket miniature, whi.
eizoko his utteranosi . if-hwattempted to ape,
_/----
'Y~
it ; for ho is'thinking of the time—not many
months i ngo, oh, how longl—when the
original-o' that picture sobbed on his breast,
and clung tn'hirnwitiAnostpassionate kiSses,
and pleading with him in God's name rot to
go—oh, not to go I _
His lip-quiver's; he brushes his hand across
his eyes ; he closes the lOcket„and replaces it
in -his bosom. If he were not agonizingly;
prayed for with her every breath, of whom he
isnow thinking, we would say, 0 God ! let
him.nat sink on the hattlelield to-day.
The - Fifth had loot most of, their infantry in
theiie g liming of the battle ; for the Turkish
foot, their main support hail fled, n't the first
Onset, and theie remained to them only a small
division of Highlanders, a number quite insuf
ficient-to sustain them:
Yet as the cannon thundered, and the mus
kets hailed death- around, the brave fellows
felt it, like a shame to sit there idle, while
their comrades were winning glory; and
every moment they grew more eager, even
without the support ( f infantry. for an occa
sion to net. .
Hark 1 the tramp of cavalry. _Every rein
is tightened, and every horseman's breath is
quelled with expectation. Up they come at a
fierce .gallop„ as though they meant to sweep
the height at a 'single pass. It is the Itlusoo_
vites ! Their heavy, rushing billows of horse
dash full upon the, Highlanders, and arc shock
ed back by the shore of bayonets. They
rally, and advance again, more slowly and
determinedly.
Then 'the bugles of the Fifth sound ; and
the fiery horses are wheeled into order for the
onset.
Look at peen Gray l he has forgotten the
miniature; he has forgotten its original; lie
has forgotten the little cottage by the Thames,
where she is sighing prayers to Heaven for
him now ; he thinks only of glory. His
breast heaves and pants, and his hand clutches
hls hilt, wnitiog impatiently for the next sig
nal- twang.
Another bleat of the _bugles, and the whole
Fifth, inst4ntly bristling all over with swords,
like a single being, spring into the pas de
charge A thundering horricaue of battle, they
swoop right down an the advancing foe with
the speed of the wind:" God of 4maretil what
n :spectacle I With what a. sublimely terrific
shock the two hostile masses of men and
Th)
horses crash together! Sword clangs on
sword, horses and riders sink, the sea of com
bat surges over them.
The Fifth cut the - -ugh and through ;
and when their In Ind the rally, they
disregard the sigi mined to fight till
they clear the fit Horse against
horse, onset and re, _taxon and Cossack,
they cleave one another down, swa3ing to and
fro like a stormy sea.
Where is Cecil Gray? Yonder is his plume.
Watch it. It tosses above the thick of the
fight, as if it were alive with glory. There, it
loses itself iu the mats of pistols. It emer
ges. We lose sight of it again. Yonder once
more it flies along the field, like some splendid
bird of prey, that kills its quarry, but stops
not 4o devour. Swords leap up above and
around it; other plumes nod and sink around
it; riderless horses whirl away from it, and
roll down, and surge and struggle, and die in
the overwhelming billows of battle. But that
plume, and the sword which goes with it,
ceases not for an instant in their sublime
career.
The wounded French Chasssur who reclines
on his elbow here nigh us, watching that
plume. forgets his pain, and ejaculates,
"C'earfeuperbe I" And it is superb; it is
glorious.
But now that plume is the dreadful center
of a vortex of foes, which dashes upon it, as
upon a lone sail the foam capped whirlpool
of the sea.. Other plumes fly to the rescue
Sabers flash up thick and fast, and chop down
into fiery brains, and cross and thrush, and
stab, and mix in a horrible turmoil of heroic
desperation.
We close our eyes tightly. with a shudder
ing sickness and faintness, and when wo open.
them on the scene again, the Russian' are in
total rout, and the gallant Fifth in rally, with
shout and hurra.
But the plume.of Cecil Gray? It is goner
The prayers which have kept going up to
Heaven from the cottage by the Thames have
not been answered. That plume bowed to
death, and went down while we were shutting
OUT eyes.
How gloriously he died ! On the field they
found hiM, the evening of that day, with a
monument of slaughtered heroes piled up to
his glory. And as leis surviving comrades
spaded him a grave, and wrapped his cloak
around him, and laid him to rest, they talked
animatingly of , hie heroism, anti then they
spoke faltaringly of ono who—
"No more of that, my comrade!" said ho
who bed been — bis bosom friend, in a choking
'yoke. "There!" ho had taken the locket from
the nook of the dead, clipped with his sword a
look from tho hero's hair, and shut it over the
miniature, "that shall be , her tidings I—and
may3iod—pity and—comfort her!"
Thcloig, blinding tears streamed down those
stern-men's-cheeks; _Ahoy filled up the gave,
eartiste C)eralb'.
breathing bard with the rush of home's dear
emotions, but speaking not another word.
~
,'.A cottage try the Thames.
Inkerman has been fought, and the news
has gone through England. In that cottage
Minnie Gray bits sobbing and waiting for
.what she knows possible, and yet hopes irn•
possible. Weep, Minnie, the hour is at hand
when the blessed relief of tears may be denied
thee.
"Willie, go to town 7 aud—ond— Go ! Wil
• . .. • • • .
Willie gees to town: he runs all the way.
He brings back rolling but the newspaper,
which is filled with " LATEST FROM THE CHI-
INIEA.' '
No letter, Willie?"
" None."
She seizes the_pnper and gropes, tear blind
ed, through the long columns. - But she finds
nothing, only that so:many were killed and so
many were wounded, and the names of to few
great' Officers that were slain, The throbbing
blond almost bursts from her veins, and her
eyes grow dry, as she reads a printed letter
from one of the Fifth Dragocns. But says
nothing of Cecil, only that the Fifth bad been
in glorious peril.
" Gli ! my God! hew can I bear this agony
of suspense'!"
Willie tried to soothe her ; but she could
hear nothing but the soul stunning thunder of
battle, see nothing through her tears but the
charge of the Fifth Dragoons.
•' Go to town, Willie, and come not back till '
you bring some word from him !"
The boy went sorrowfully. Minnie Grty
watched the clock, and the road to town all
ntid all' night, and all - nett - day- till the sun
went down. ,
Willie was coming. The eight of him made
her dizzy and feint. Ilow did ho walk ?
Were there tidings in his step ? Yes! life or
death 1 He came hurriedly, while he seemed
to reel under the weight of his heart. It must
be death ! Now, God of mercy ! thy helping
hand ! She staggers out to meet him, and
gasps,
•' Any wofd, Willie. ?"
" No word
She holds her breath, and stares wildly at
him, as he draws forth the locket He places
it quickly in her - clutching band, and turns his
face away. She unc:nsps it shudderingly
and the luck of hair' springs out. and' Curls
round her 6rger ! A sm'thered, quivering
cry, n stifled, choking wail of agony that crush
ed the life out, and Minnie Gray fell into her
lirother Willie's arms.
'ln the little village churchyard, there is now
a new-made grave, and over it a marble slab
bearing this inscription :
In MCmory Of
CECIL AND GRAY,
Whom Pence Married
In Life.
Whom Wnr Wedded
In Death.
Stltermting tit
PETER FRANCISCO,
The Samson of the Western Urnsisphere
As late as the year 1836, there lived in Wes
tern Virginia, a man whose strength wee so
remarkable as to win him the title of the "Vir
ginia Samson." Ile knew nothing of his birth
or parentage, but supposed be was born in
Portugal, from whence he was stolen when a
child, and carried to Ireland. His earliest
recollections wore those of his boyhood in the
latter country. While
a-ii yet , a lad, he appren
ticed himself to a senitain, for seven year+
in pay for a . paeaage to this country. On his
arrival, his time end services were sold to a
Mr. Winston, of Virginia, in whose service
ho remained until the breaking out of the Re
volution Being of en adventurous turn of
mind, he sought and obtained permission of
his master to join the army, and was engaged
in active service during the whcde coatist.—
Such was his strength and personal bravery,
that no enemy could resist him. He wielded
a sword, the blade of which was five feet in
length, as though it had been a feather, and
every one who came in contact with Lim paid
the forfeit of his life. At Stoney Point he
was 0n0,.0f the "forlorn hope" which was ad
reflood to out away the abatie, and, next to
Major Gibbon, was the first man to enter the
works. At Brandywine and Monmouth be
exhibited the most fearless bravery, rind no
thing- but his inability to write, prevented his
promotion to a ,commission. Transferred to
the South, ho took part in most of the engage
ments in that section, and towards the close
of the,war,,,,_ille'rWas - engaged in a contest which
exhibited in a striking manner, his repmrka
ble selloonfidence•and courage.
-6r . A, day while reconnoitering, ,be stopped
at the house of a man by the . name of IV--
t e refresh hirneelf While at the table, he
was surprised by . nine British troopers, whC
rode up to the house „►nd told him he was
their prisoner, - Seeing that he was so greatly
outnumbered, he pretended to surrender, and
the dragoons seeing lie was apparently very
peacefully inclined, after disarming him, al-
lowed him considerable freedom, while they
sat down to partake of the food which* he had
left when disturbed.. Wandering out into the
door yard he was accosted by the Paymaster
who demanded of him every thing of value
about him at the risk of his lite its case of re-
fusel. " I have nothing to give," said Fran
oisco "so use your ploasuro. ""Give up those
massive buckles I'll your shoes," said the dra-
goon. •• They were the gift of n friend," re
plied Francisco, " and give them to you I ne
ver shall ; take them if you will• you have the
power, but I never will DIVE them to any one."
Putting his sabre under hie arm, the soldier
stooped down to take them. Francisco seeing
the opportunity, which was too good to be
lost, seized the sword, and drawing it with
force from under the arm of the soldier. dealt
him a severe blow across-the skull. Althemg
severely wounded, yet being a brave man, the
dragoon drew a pistol, and aimed it at his an
tagonist, who was too quick for him, however,
and as he pulled the trigger, a blow from the
sword nearly severed his wrist, and placed
him hors du combat. The report of the pistol
drew the other dragoons into the - yard, as
well us W --, who very ungenerously brought
out a musket, which he handed to, one of the
soldifts, and told him to make use of it
Mounting the only horse they ciuld get at, he
presented the muzzle at the breast of Francis
co and pulled the trigger. Fortunately it mis
sed fire, and Francisco closed in -upon him.—
A short struggle ensued, which ended in his
disarming and wounding the soldier. Turk
ton's troop of four huncred men were now in
sight, and the other dragoons were about to
attack him Seeing his case was deal orate
he turned toward - an adjoining thicket, iiiid "u. ,
if cheering on a party of men he cried out,
" Come on, my brave boys ; now's your lime ;
we will soon despatch these few and then at-
I tack the main body !" at the same time rush-
I ing at the dragoons with, the fury of an enra-
ged tiger,
They did not wait to engage him, but fled
irecipitately to the troop, panic struck' and
dismayed. • Seizing upon the traitorous v:llain
W—, Francisco was about to despatch him,
but ho begged and plead so hard for his life,
that be forgave him, and told him to secrete
for him the eight horses which the soldiers
had left behind them. Perceiving that, Tar
Icton had despatohed..two other dragoons in
search of him, lie made off into the adjoining
wood, and while they stopped at the house,
ho, like an old fox, doubled u on their rear,
and successfully evaded their vigilance. The
next day he went to W— for his horses;
hoc demanded two of them for his services,
and generous intentions. Finding his situa
tion dangerous, and surrounded by enemies,
where he ought to have found friends, Fran
else° was compelled to make the best of it,
and left with hie six horses, intending to re
venge himself upon W— at a Astute time,
" but," as he said, "Providence ordained that
I should not be his executioner, for be broke
his neck by a fall from one of the very hor-
EMI
Many other anecdotes are told of Francis
co, illustrative or his immense strength and
personal prowess ;... At
, Camden, whero Oates
was defeated, ho retreated; 'and after running
along a road'some distance, ho sat down to
rest himself. Ile was suddenly accosted by a
British dragoon, who presented a pistol and
demanded his immediate surrender. Ilia gun
being empty, he feigned submission, and said
be would surrender, it the same time remark,
ing that his guu was of no further use to him,
he prelonted it sideways to the trooper, who
in reaching for it threw himself off his guard,
when Francisco, quick as thought, ran him
through with the bayonet, and se he fell
from his horse, he mounted him and contin
ued his retreat. Overtaking his commanding
officer, Col. Mayo, of Powhattan, ho gave up
the animal, for which act of generosity the
Colonel afterwards presented him a thousand
acres of land in Kentucky.
The following tine° lote exemplifying his
peaceful nature and his strength, is also told
of Francisco. How true it is, we cannot say
but we tell it as it was told to us, many years
ego, while Le was still riving in Buckingham
county, Virginia.
One day while working in his garden, be
was accosted by a stranger, who rode up to
the fence and inquired of Lim if he kric,w ,
" where a man by the name of Francisco
I lived."
Raising himself fron hie work, and eyeing
his interrogator, who appeared to be ono of
the "half hors• half alligator" breed of Ken
tuckians, ho replied, " Well, attalger I eon't
know of any other person by that name in
these parts than myself."
"IVell, 1 reckon you nim't the man I want.
=want to find the great fighting man I've
heard tell so much about. The follow lb.,'
say can, whip all creation and Kentucky to
boot."
can't toll you, stranger, where you'll
bud that man, I don't know such a man," said
Francisco, retwming his work as a hint to the
other that the conferencti wee ended. lint
the Kentuckian was not to be bluffed off as he
- .
would term it. "Look 'ere. ntreoger,' said
he, returning to the charge, • what might
your given name be?" "My mime le Peter
Frtateisco, at your service."
:" returned the other, • .You're just
he man I want to find;" nt the FO me time rid
ng inside the fence, he dinionilt , l end, tied
tis animal—a rcugh ungninly poney—
o one of the posts.
My name is Big Bill Stoke' the way
from old Kentuck. lam the Kentucky' game
chicken, I am. I can out run, out hop, out-,
jump, knock lown, drag out, and whip any
man in all them diggings. So as I !learn tell
of a fellow down hereabouts who could whip
all creation, I thought I'd saddle old blossom,
and just ride over to see what stuff
. he's made
of, and here I am. "And now.-stranger, I'm
most starved for a fight, and I'm bouud`to see
who's the best man before Igo home. It's all
.in good feeling you •know, but if you lick me,
why I'm satisfied, but—"
" Stop a minute. stranger," said FranciscO,
you've mistaken the man eniirely, I'm no
fighting man at all, end if I was, I've nothing•
against you to fight tifiO l ut"
"Well, I don't know ; is there any other re-_
ter'Francisco in parts."
" No. not that I know of "
" Well, then, you're the man. and you must
fight. I've come all the way from cld Rentuck
and I ain't a going bock without knowing *
which is the best man."
" But I won't fight I've gut_ nothing to
fight about, and I tell you I wont' fiyht !"
" D--d if you shan't fight, straOger. I'm
hound to lick you if I can, if I don't, you must
lick me."
Ily this time Francisco had become angry
nt the importunity of his visitor, and deter
mined to put- an end *to the icene. Seiting
his antagonist therefure by the sent of his t.uck
sl,in breeches, and the collar of his hunting
shirt. he threw him over the fence into the
road ; then walking lesurely to where hie pony
was tied, ho unfastened him, and—taking him
up by main strength, threw' him .afier his
cotafited rider.
The Kentuckian raised himself from the
ground, perfectly dumb founded by stich an
exhibition of strength, and after 'rubbing his
eyes as though be,thought he 'might not have
seen clearly, he mounted his pony, remarking
" well, stranger, I reckon you'll do. I reckon
it's about time for me to make tracks. "If
any body asks you about_ that great fight, ycu
can tell 'em you licked Bill Stokes tioundly
. Francisco was a powerfully built man, stan
ding six feet and one inch in height. and
weighing two hundred and sixty pounds. His
muscular system was extraordinarily develop•
cd, and ho had been known to shoulder with
ease a can weighing eleven hundred pounds ;
and a gentleman of undoubted veracity, (still
living in Virginia,) who knew him well says
" He could take me in his right hand and'pass
over the room with me, playing my head a
gainst the ceiling, as though I had been a doll
lin.by. My weight was one hundred and'nine
ty- five pounds." His wife who woe a worn n
of good size and fair proportions, ho would
take in his, right band, and holding her out at
arm's length, would pass around the room with
her and carry her up and down stairs in that
position. lie would take a barrel of cider by
the chimes and holding, and holding it to his
Imouth, would drink from the bong a long
and hearty 'draught without any apparent ex•
ertion.
Yet with all• his strength he was a very
peacefully disposed man, and never made use
t of his power, except in case of necessity about
usual nvooations, or in the defence of the
right. On occasions of outbreaks at publio
gatherings, be was better' at rushing in and
preserving tho public pence than all the eon
\
servative authorities on the ground. Al
though uneducated, he was a man of strong
natural sense, and of a kind, amiable disposi
tion. He was a companionable man, and his
annecdotes and stories of the war, of which
ho possed a rich fund, rendered him a welcome
guest in the first families of the State. His
industrious and temperate habits, together
with his kind disposition, made him many
friends, and through their influence, he was
appointed Sergeant at-orms of the Virginia
- House of Delegates, in which service he died
in 1886, and was buried with military hon
ors in the public burying-ground at Rich
mond,
. 4
. H. A. DREER,
SEEDSMAN. AND FLORIfiT,
No. 69 Chesnut near flocond,Philadelphts
i t ,trur Ilas now arrange(' and completed his
-, stock for the Spring of 105, as follows:
;. %,(:'l•, - • VIAIETA DLit BEED:(--in great Tarte
' ' ty, including the finest varieties of Deane
Deets (cabbage, Cauliflower, Lettuce, Oa
. ' lone; Melons, Egg plant, Tomatoes, real(
Radlehee, 3.e. Ac. .
FLOWER SEEDS.- - Ills collodion le unequalled by
any in this couttry for extent and quality, And embro ,
cos the finest' variative or Asters. Btosks, eftruaticne ,
Pansies, Wallflowers, Daisy, &r. •
GltAnS SIIF.DS--et all kinds, includingilluesuidGrce n
Drate,'"Wlille Dutch Clover, BWrvet scented 'corneal:lrmo.
Iterreuitial Bay Grass, Mirerne,
ROSES, &:,—Cholco everldooming Roses. Ciiiiiel ll34
Verbouae, Patinae, Gravel Vines, Fruit Trove, EllirobberY
Ace. ' 8. W. }K`
In
fab2B Awent for eitClo.
Caltlst SIIELLVAtS.---X ANDER' t. I'Ar
ENT C lat.i
CORN S.e.n;dueldedly the pest Ard
nd deep.
az•
OS now In use. Fanners are requested to all
amine it et the Carlisle roundry and Mail ne Slip, . r
al Rastou'a .11arttlear• Store. Yer ealo at I..arowthie
11490 e h
Auli• 1-3n4
°LIMNER k 131101:0 1 2