NEW SERIES, VOL. I, NO. .6.] CHARRIC.K WESTBROOK, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. Printing Office—Front Street, opposite Barr's Hotel Pubiication Office—Locust Street, opposite the P. 0. • Turas. —The COLUMBIA SPY Is published every Saturday morning at the, low price of ONE DOLLAR A - YEAS IPI ADVANCE, nr one dollar and flay cents, if not.paid within one month of the time of subscribing. Single copies, THREE CENTS. Tunas op ADY Enron No—Advertisements not exceed ing n square three times for Sl, and 25 cents for each additional insertion. '1 hose of a peeler length In pro yortfon. t2eA. Mural discount made tO : yearly adver tiser". ' • 4021 , PRINTING— Soich as Rand-bilis, Posting-bills. Cards. Labels, Pamphlets, Blanks of every description Circulars, etc.etc.,execnied with neatnessatiddespatcli and on reasonableterms. From the Man In the Moon. ODE TO WHACKEM HOUSE ACADEMY, DV • PU PM RIM LIRIITING. PROM sonoor.. Sweet Whackem house for contemplation made, (We've sixty boarders there)—thy tranquil shade Invites me back to taste the calm delight Of Wisdom's lessons,—(Tip us, Bob, a light.) Sweet Whackem house! Fond mem'ry Invea to trace Thy hawthorn lane —(where Tomklns smarted my faeo)— Thy willow—(and the birch) beside thy rill, Seat of my youth—(l feel it tingle still.) Thy orchard hung with apples ripe and fair— (They always keepa wicked mastiff there,) Thy playground—and my playmates—kind and true— (Who laughed when Wilkins thrashed me, black and blue.) Yes, I remember—l remember all: The white . -faced usher, and the white-washed hall— The marbles—(thot were prige'd, I know, by Jones)— Friend of my soul break the rascal's bones.) The sports at eve, when coats and cap were off. To chase, the hoop —(1 chased The 'looping cough— And caught it too,)-0 t days of gay delight, Youth's morning draughts of Joy—(with pills at night.) O! much I love thee—(gammon!)—Doctor Duff: Thy care so tender—(and thy'beof so tough)— Thy words, that fall like eugar—(in the cane); (I also love the gard'ner's daughter Jane ) Sweet %Vhackem house f where first my infant tongue In numbers liep'd—'twas thus I trembling rung— Sail, Muse divine."—Ot curse it, Soli, don't snore; Here's Whackern Souse; we're back at school once more. From Sharpe's Magazine THE WILL; A TALE OF THE LAST CENTURY The old lady who related the outline of the fol lowing singular story, heard it told in her youth, by no means as a fiction, but as a real occurrence. She even once knew the name of the old northern family concerned in it, but that, with the exact dates, she has now forgotten, it she evlr knew the latter; and having never written down the story, she'has 'no means of recovering them. However, from the express mention of a tight wig, worn by the benevolent old hero of the tale, we have fixed the strange occurrence not earlier than the last century. Towards the end of a gusty October day, about the year 1730, a barrister of the temple was sitting reading, when the opening of the door, and the servant's announcement of " a gentleman," inter rupted him. He rose to receive his visitor, who proved to be a perfect stranger, a person of very gentlemanly, but extremely old.fashioned appear ance. He was dressed in a grave-colored suit, of antique cut ; a neat, tight gray wig surrounded his serious, and even solemn, physiognomy ; silk stock ings, rolled at the knee ; enormous shoe buckles of gold; a cane, headed with the same metal, and a broad-brimmed and uncooked hat, completed his equipment ; which was in the fashion of the last years of William the Thud, or the first of his suc cessor. Having stilly bowed, in the exact wuy prescribed by the etiquette of the era to which he seemed to belong, he took possession of the chair offered him by his host; and, after a preparatory ahem, thus began in a slow and serious manner: "I think, sir, you arc the lawyer employed by the family, whose property in Yorkshire you are, therefore, aware is about to be sold." "I have, air," answered the barrister, "full in structions and powers to complete the disposal of it, which, though a painful duty to me, must he per formed." "It is a duty you may dispense with," said the visitor, waving his hand, "the property need not be sold." - s. May I presume to ask, sir, whether you are any relation to the family ? If so, you must be acquain. ted with the absolute necessity of selling It, in con sequence of the claim of another branch of the family, just returned from beyond sea, who, as heir. at-law, is naturally possessor of the estate, in default of a will to the contrary; end who desires its value in money, instead of the land. The present pos. sessor is unable to buy it, and must therefore depart." "You are mistaken," replied the old gentleman, rather testily, "you seem not to know of the will of Mr. S--'a great grandfather, by which he not only left that, his estate, to his favorite grandson, this gentleman's father, but even entailed it on his great-great-grandson." "Such a will, sir," said the barrister, "was in deed, supposed, for many years to exist; and, in virtue of it, Mr. has, until now, peaceably enjoyed the property; but, on the claimant's appli. cation, a renewed search having been made for it, either the belief proves wholly unfounded, or it has been lost or destroyed. Cabinets, chests, every rootn,inhabited or uninhabited, have been ransack ed in vain. Mr. S—_ b an now given np all hope of finding it; the sale is to be completed in the coarse of next week; and the fino old place must pass into the hands of strangers." "You are mistaken once again, y oung ninn ." said the stranger, striking his cane on the floor; " I say, sir the will exists. Go, immediately," con tinued he, in as antbcritative tone, " travel- night and day. You may save an old family from dis. grace and ruin. In the end room of the left wing, now uninhabited, is a closet in the wall." "We have looked there," interrupted the bar . SPY "Silence, sir; there is• a closet, I say. In that closet is a large chest; that chest has a false bot tom, and underneath tbat is the deed. lam certain of what I say. I saw the paper deposited there; no matter when, or by .whom. Go; you will find it worth your trouble. My name, sir, is Hugh S-, I am not now personally known, to the pro prietor of S- Ijall;but lam his relation and have his welfare at heart.. Neglect not to follow my advice," So saying, the old gentleman arose, again bowed, and at the door put on his bat, in a fashion which would have enchanted an elegant of Queen Anne's day ; and sliding the silken string of his cane on the little finger of his right hand. on. which the lawyer had remarked. a very fine brilliant ring, he descended the stairs and;:departed, leaving the bar rister in the utmost astonishment. At first he felt half inclined to consider the whole as a hoax; then again, when he thought of the old gentleman's grave manner, and the intimate knowledge he must have possessed of the house, to be able to describe the room so exactly in which the chest was, he could nut but believe bim to be sincere. At length, after much deliberation, he decided upon immediate departure; and arrived, on the evening of the fourth day, at S- Hall. The sale had been the only theme of conversation at every place he had passed through, within twenty miles of his destination ; and much and loudly was it lamented, that the squire should be leaving his house, forever,mnd that poor Mr. John would never enjoy his rights, as they persisted in calling the possession of the estate. On his entrance into the mansion, signs of approaching removal every where met his eyes. Packages filled the hall; servants, with sorrowful countenances, were hurrying about; and the - family were lingering sadly over the last dinner they were ever to partake of in their regret. ted home. Mr. S—greeted Ins friend, with a surprise, which changed to incredulity when the barrister, requesting his yrivate car, declared the reason of his appearance. "It cannot be," said he. "Is it likely that no one should ever have heard of the hiding of the deed but the old gentlman yon mention. Depend upon it, you have been deceived, my dear friend ; I am only sorry you should have taken so much trouble, to so little purpose." "Hugh S—i" each' 4 . ped the gentleman, laugh ing. " I have not a relation in the world of that name." "It is worth the trying, however," said the law yer; "and since I have come so far, I will finish the adventure." 111 r. S-, seeing his friend so determined, at length consented to satisfy him, and accompanied him towards the appartment he specified. As they crossed one of the rooms in their way, he suddenly stopped before a large full•length picture. "For heaven's sake," cried he, "who is this?" "My grand uncle," returned Mr. S-. " A good fellow as ever lived. I wish with all my heart, he were alive now; but he has been dead these thirty years." "What was his name?" "Hugh S-. The only one of our family of that name." " That is the man who called upon me. His dress, his hat, his very ring are there." They proceeded to the closet, lifted tho false bottom of the trunk, and found the deed. The kind old uncle was never seen again THE GOLDEN GANYAIEDE. It had. been a very hazy day on earth, with a cold north-wester, though it was in the month of July, and, to say the truth, it was very little better in heaven. Jupiter and Juno had been at sixes and sevens all the morning, but that was too common an occurrence to produce much disturbance. But to-day everything appeared to go wrong. Hebe had stumbled over one of Vulcan's new-fangled tripods, as she was pouring out the Thunderer's champaigne the night before at supper, and showed her knee—a mighty pretty knee it was too—and there had been no peace in Olympus since. No body seemed to know exactly what was the matter, bet all the gods and goddesses were out of sorts together. The eagle had been sent oat in the morn. ing—Juno said that Juipler was at some of his old tricks, or that rascally bird wouldn't have got the job—and he hadn't got back yet, though dinner had been over these two hours ; and old Momus, the only one of the lot, that never lost his spirits, was out of the way. It was terribly dark work. Juno eat in a great golden arm-chair, with her large eyes absolutely red with tears, and her bosom throhbing as if it would burst the ecstus—she had borrowed it of Venus to come over the father of gods and men, but it was all for nothing--and her little foot beating the devil's tatoo on her footstool ; but it was all lost upon Jove, for his brow was as black as if all his thunders were there, and his ambrosial locks were quite out of curl. Venus herself wag melan choly, less perhaps on account of things in general, than because Mars had given her a savage look, when she stuck a pin into his arm, just to make him take an interest in what was going on; and as to Apollo, on whom she had to hook a little senti mental flirtation, he was walking up and down the jasper-paved hall, every now and then striking a false note on his lyre, end then cursing it for being out of tune—with a scornful curl upon his lip—sad if ever he made an observation at all, it was sure to be the same bitter taunt at the immortals. For Apollo had been a traveller, and, though there was not much fun really in keeping sheep for Admetus, whenever he got into one of his vagaries—and that was pretty often too—he would throw it into the teeth of the gods how mach happier the poor dis. pised mortals were than they ia their chrystal pala ces .`. ..For, if it comes to the worst," he would say—" they can at least get rid of their miseries :•—• AND LANCASTER AND YORK COUNTY RECORD. I= COLUMBIA, PA. SATURDAY, AUGUST 7, 1347. They can find repose in the quiet of the grave—but we !—we are immortal!" l" Night came" on, and this did not mend the case—it was pitch dark, though the moon was at the full! " Mercury"—roared the Thonderer—" What. the Cocytus is the meaning of all this? Where's Diana to-night?" "Have done with your folly—Venus—do!" bel lowed Mars, as the laughter-loving queen pinched him again, for she knew that Diana was after—but he couldn't stand the look she gave him, it was so irresistibly tender in its languid tearfulness, so he stole his arm around ber waist, while all the rest were looking at Mercury, who was rather in a stew, and they were better friends than ever again,— "How could you be so crdss to me, Mars, dear ?" whispered she. "I believe she's gone to Latmos, Jove," said Mercury, who, for the first time in his life couldn't make up a lie. " Gone to the devil," replied the testy king " No, Sire, to Endymion—they say he is more like Apollo, than your brother!" said Minerva, who hated her—" She's no better than she should be, that Diana!" At this moment the conversation was interrupted by a long-drawn sigh, strangely terminating in a sort of chimp. Every one turned round, and though she tried to look innocent, Venus blushed. "You're none of you half so good as you should be"—an. s wered Jove, waxing more and more indignant— " Flebe—my very cup-bearer—must show her knee to all the Demi-gods, that supped with me yester day, just from vanity at its whiteness; and to-day the moon must go to meet her spark un Latmos, and Venus kiss her's before all our faces on Olym. pus. The next god or goddess that commits such a breach of propriety, shall go to earth for a hun: dred years, I swear by the $--." "Oh ! nonsense, Jove," cried all the deities at once, and the sound of their voices pealed, like the roar of an avalanche, to the remotest wilds of Scythia. "Let him alone!" said Juno—" he'll suffer for it himself—as soon as any one; but he need not hope that I'll kiss him on the earth to shirk his vows, as I've been fool enough to do before ! But he'll have some of his Europas, or Alcmenas before long, I'll warrant him. That infamous bird is after some of thorn now, I suppose." ..D—n the bird and you too!" answered he, in a passion, and flounced out of the room on his way to Dodona, for he smelt the fat of a score or two of oxen, that they were roasting there, in hopes of get ting an answer to some oracular questions or other. It was not long before Juno started for Argos to dress for supper, and then Venus and Mars stepped out to take a ramble in the myrtle groves at Cyth. era ; and Heaven was left empty, till the Hours came to make it look a little decent for the compa ny—then the Muses carne in, and began tuning their instruments, but they could not get them to rights at all; and Vulcan's circum-ambulating tri pods had run down, and they couldn't get them wound up again; for old Mulciber had got so mad at that unlucky kiss, that he went of to .Etna—not to be back for a week or two. It was terrible work; and when supper came, it didn't tell one whit better than the rest. Every body missed poor little Hebe's laughing face ! She was a general favorite, and so pretty—and then the absurdity of the thing ! If Jove had never seen a knee before, why there might have been some sort of an excuse, for turning her out of office. "If it had been in the old days of Saturn, when modesty had not be come utterly ungenfeel, we could have understood such pranks ! but now, my dear Venus, it is too ob. surd!" said Juno—" The truth was, the poor little thing kneW Hercules was looking at her at the time—she's to be married to him you know—and surely that's enough." "Oh ! you may rely on it— June—whispered the fair Idallian—‘ , Jove has made arrangements to instal some of his mortal beauties in the place! We shall have some beauti ful, wo•begone, thing with her hair out of curl, and the waist of her frock up to her shoulders—all simper, and bashfulness—before night, I warrant you." Venus wore very long waists, and couldn't endure bashful creaturoc. "It he does, I'll go to Eubcea again—and we'll see if he gets me back as quickly as lie did belbre ! I won't endure such treatment!" While she was yet speaking, the heavy flapping 1 . of wings was heard without the hall, and in a mo ment the eagle flew into the room, enveloped in a veil of silvery mist; diem was no fierceness in his eye, the feathers of his lordly neck slept peacefully ; the very lightnings, which flashed from his talons, were of a lovely violet flame, that played lambently in the perfumed atmosphere. "It is too bad—l— will not—bear it," sobbed the heart broken Juno. But the faithful messenger floated silently to the throne of Jove, the vapory shroud melted away from the presence of the monarch—and there stood re vealed in more than mortal beauty—no soft en chantress—no mortal mistress—but a boy! a bril. liant boy, dressed ins. bothers cassock, with golden ringlets floating from beneath his Phrygian cap, and the jewelled quiver glittering on his shoulder. There was a general murmur of applause! the jealousy of Juno- was appeased, the goddesses won dered at. his beauty, and Venus gazed so earnestly upon the charms of the young Trojan, that Mars had a relapse. Some of the gods, too, grumbled a little; they preferred, they said, a pretty nymph to all the boys from Ida to the pillars of Hercules; but when have males a chance against the sez. Be sides he had not poured a second round of nectar, before Bacchus swore he &culled it, as well as he could have done himself. Just then, too, the moon shine - streamed brilliantly athwart the sapphire vault of heaven, the spheres rang out with their celestial harmony, and Jupiter himself smiled with majestical serenity, as amidst the harping of the Muses, and the symphony of the stars, the assem bled deities drank to the. Golden Ganymede How MR. PIPRIN BLOWED HIMSELF.—BiII Pipk in hadn't been married very long, and hadn't quite got out of the habit of Lakin, little punch drinkin, frol icks with his old friends on punchier occasions. He was first rate at making excuses for staying out at nights now and then—he was terribly pressed with business, as he tuck monstrous good care to never cum home crosslegged, his wife never spect ed nothin, and all went on lust rate., One night Bill got rather msre'n he could carry straight, but he didn't find it out till he was on his way home. He wouldn't have Susan know he was in such a sitewation not for the world, and he begun tbinkin, as well as he could with his lied spinnin round so, What was best to keep her from findin him nut. " got it 'racily," ses he—" Hie, Su- Su.Susart knows Pm Chic) terribly f-f-fond of m.m. milk. Well,'l'll jest take a big (hie) swig of m-m. milk, and NO sh-she'll never suspect nothin, poor gall." Home he went, practisin straight walkin all the way, and studdyin over in his mind how he would talk straight, so Susan wouldn't find him out. When he found the latch, which was on the wrong side of the door, what opened the wrong way too, he felt round in the dark for more doors than was ever in the house before, and got into ever so many curious shaped rooms, till he found the pantry whar he spected to find some milk. lie didn't have no very clear idee as to whar it ought to be; so, after feclin about in every place but the right one, he cum to the conclusion to go up to his room and ax his wife whar it was. The stair seemed to be turned up side down, and the bed room was chang ed places with the cellar-kitchen, but he made out at last to find the door. Alter clearing his throte, and saying over his speech so he wouldn't make no mistake, he opened the door, and tuck a lean agin the door post, and listened to hear if his wife was awake. She was sound asleep. "All the better for that, thought he to himself. "Susan !—Susan!" ses he very low and plain. "Eh 7" ses Susan, jest wakin out of a duse; "Is that you come home, my dear, so late—l—" "Susan, Susan !" ses Bill, not payin no attention to what she sod, his hed bein full of the milk— " Susan !" "What, my dear?" "Is there any in the house?" "Yes, dear—but what in the world— " Susan, Susan 7" "What dear?" " Whar is the milk ?" "In the pantry in the dinin room, dear. But you hod better come to bed now, it's so—" Bill didn't say a word, but tuck some terrible long steps in the dark. He found the thrall room and the pantry agin, but he couldn't find no milk any whar. After tryin for about five minnits, lie goes up stairs agin, and leanin against the door to steady himself, axed his wife agin— r Susan, Susan!" ses he very partickcler. " Eh—what 7" see she, wakin up agin. " Is ther any milk in the house ?" "I told you titer was some milk in the pantry, dear—" Down went 13i11 agin. This time he felt every whar, and upset lots of things, making a terrible racket among the crockery, but drat the drup of milk could ho find. "Cuss the milk:" sea he; " whar could they put 11131 In a minit more he was at the bed room door agin. "Susan, Susan:" see he. Susan snuffed a short snore off in the middle. "What:" ses she, sort o'Cross this time. "Is there any milk in Ile house ?" " Yes, I told you." • "Well, whar is it?" sea he. "I told you, on the shelf—in the pantry—in the dinin room ?" - ses Sus&h, breaking it off into short mouthfuls of pretty loud italic. That sort o' skeered Bill, and put him off his guard. " Well, Susan," ses he, "is it tied up in any thing or lying about loose ?" - That was enuff—the cat was out of the bag, and no help for it. Mrs. Pipkin was bright awake in a minit, and the way Bill got'a Caudle that night was enough to sober the drunkenest husband in creation. He never got corned agin—and it was more'n a year after afore he could drink milk in his coffee when Susan was at the table. A NARROW Escape.-1n the month of October, 1828, my vessel was lying at Mobile. I went ashore one bright morning, to do some business with the house to which I was consigned, and as I passed along the street, it occurred to me that I mightas well have a beard of a week's growth reaped, before I presented myself at the counting. room I stepped into, a barber's shop, and taking the chair told the barber to proceed. He was a bright malatto, a good looking young fellow, not more than two and twenty years of age, it appeared. His eyes were large, black, and lustrous, I thought. His manner at first was quiet and respectable. I thought be was a long while lathering my face, and told him that he must have bought his soap at whcleatile price. Laugh. ing he replied that mine was a long beard, and tbat lie knew what he was about. "Are you the boss here, my man?" I asked " Yes," he answered, " my master set me lip, and I pay him twenty dollars a month for my time." "That is a good interest on the capital invested," I remarked; " can you pay your rent and live on the balance of your saving ?" "Oh, yes, and lay up something besides. Sonic. times I receive thirty bile a day." " Thal, I suppose, you will buy your freedom one of these day!, 7" "As for that," he rcplied I care but moo. I have all the liberty I want, and enjoy myself as I go along." But should you marry and have children, you would not wish to leave them slaves 9" " Yes I would for they would be better off than if they were free." By this time he had, laid down the brush and commenced running the razor over the strop, and I%..king at the blade every time he drew it across the leather. His hand trembled a little, and his eyes absolutely burned like coals of fire. I did not feel uneasy, but I could not avoid watching him closely. At last he commenced shaving "►ly head being thrown back, I was able. to keep my eyes fixed directly on:his ir.wrc..,NV by I did so-I..eannot tell; certainly I apprehended nothing, but I did not remove my gaze for a single instant while the razor was passing, over my neck and throat. He seemed to grow more and more uneasy, his eyes were as bright, but not as steady as when r first observed them. Ile could not meet my fixed and deliberate look. As be commenced shaving my chin he said abruptly— " Barbers handle a deadly weapon, sir." "True enough, my man," I replied ; " but you handle yours skilfully, although I notice your baud shakes a little." " That's nothing, sir—l can shave you just as well. My hand shaker because I did not have much sleep last night. But, I was thinking just now," he added, with a laugh, "how easy it would be for me to cut your throat." " Very likely," I replied, laughing in return, but looking sternly at him—" very like, yet I would not advise you to try the experiment." Nothing mom we said. He soon finished and I arose from the chair just as an elderly gentleman entered the shop. The last corner divested himself of his coat and cravat, and took the scat I had va cated. I went to the glass, which did not reflect the chair, to arrange my collar. Certainly I had not stood be fore it it single moment, when I heard something like a suppressed shriek, a gurgling, horrible sound that made my blood run cold. I turned, and there —great God there sat the unfortunate gentleman, covered with blood, his throat cut from ear to ear, and the barber, now a raving maniac, dashing his razor with tremendous violence into the mangled neck. On the instant the man's eyes caught mine, the razor dropped from his hand, and he fell down in a fit. I rushed towards the door, and called for assistance. The unfortunate man was dead before we reached the chair. We secured the barber, who, as I subsequently learned had been drinking deeply Ole night latn.rt., and was laboring under mania a pole. His fate I never heard. =2 EXTRAORDINARY INLAND CITY.--AbOut the time Col. Doniphan made his treaty with the Navijos, a division of his command was entirely out of pro visions, and the Navijos supplied his wants with liberality. A portion of the command; together with Col. Doniphan, went to the city of the Sumai Indians, living on the Rir. Piscow, which is sup posed to be a branch of the Gayle, made a treaty of peace between the Sumai and Navjjo, and thee returned to the Rio Del Norte. These Sumais, un• like the Navijos, live in a city, containing probably 6000 inhabitants, who support themselves entirely by agriculture. This city Ane of the most ex traordinary in the world. It is divided into four solid squares, having but two streets crossing its centre at right angles. All the buildings are two stories high, composed of sunburnt brick. The first story presents a solid wall to the street, and is so constructed that each house joins, until one fourth of the city may be said to be one building. The second stories ries from the vast solid structures, so as to designate each house, leaving room to walk upon the roof of the first story between each build ing. The inhabitants of Sumai enter the second story of their buildings by Indere, which they draw up at night as a defence against any enemy that may be prowling about. In this city was seen Al bino Indians, who have no doubt given rise to the story that there is living in the Rocky Mountains a tribe of white aborigines. The discovery of this city of the Sumai will afford - the most curious speculations among those who have so long search. ed in vain for a city of the Indians who possesssed the manners and habits of the Aztecs. No doubt we have a race here living as did the people when Cortez entered Mexico. It is a remarkable fact that the Sumaians have, since the Spaniards left the country, refused to have any intercourse with the modern Mexicans, looking on them as an inferi or people. They have also driven from among them the priests and other dignitaries, who former ly had power over them, and rammed habits and manners of their own, their Great Chief or Gover nor being the civil and religious bead. The coun try round the city of Sumai, is cultivated with a great deal of care, and affords food not only to the inhabitants, but for large flocks of cattle and sheep. TALKING " Btc."—We cut this from the Boston Post. "My dear," said Mrs. Bell to her compan- ion, Mrs. Popplestone, as they walked past the ex. cavation fur the water works in Washington street., yesterday morning—" can you tell ma what them holes are for?" "Certainly," replied Mrs. P. ..They are for the anecdote to bring water from Lake Cochineal, The limping aliment will Leander thro' the iron cubes, and irritate all the eircumjacent beelike". They'll have hydras at the corners of the streets, and probably a jetty dough" upon the Common, for•it is a law of hieroglyphics that water always descends up to the level of its source, and this hera fountain must rise as high as that 'ere lake. Isbell be very glad when the water gets here, for I am as fond of absolutions as a. mussleman, as I dement wash my feet in .jamaiky water on account of the dirt of the heels:" [WHOLE NUMBER; 897; [From the Note Book of Sir George Simpson-] THE MFN AND WOMEN OF CALLFOILVIA,,Of the women, with their witchery of manner, it is noteasy, or rather it is not possible for a stranger to speak with impartiality, inasmuch as our self-love ianatu rally enlisted in favor of those who, in every look, tone and gesture, have apparently no other end in view than the pleasure of pleasing us. ' With regard however, to their physical charms, as distinguished from the adventitious accomplishments of educa tion, it is difficult even for a willing pen to exagger ate. Independently of feeling ur motion, their sparkling eyes and glossy hair are in themselves sufficient to negative the idea of tameness and insipidity; while their sylph-like forma evolve fresh graces at every step, and their eloquent features eclipse their own inherit comeliness by the higher beauty of expression. Though doubtless fully con scious-of their attractions, yet the women of Cali fornia; to their credit be it spoken, do not "before their mirrors count the time," being on the contrary, by far the most industrious half of the population. In California such a thing as a white servant is absolutely unknown, inasmuch as neither man nor woman will barter freedom in a country where provisions are actually a-drug, and clothes almost a superfluity; and accordingly, in the absence of intelligent assistants, the first ladies of the province, particularly when treated, as they seldom are, by native husbands, with kindness and consideration, discharge all the lighter duties of their households with cheerfulness and pride. Nor does their plain and simple dress savor much of the toilet. They wear a gown sufficiently short to display their neatly turned foot and ankle to their white sleek. lags and black shoes, while perversely enough they bandage their heads in a hankerchief, so as to con ceal all their hair except a single loop on either cheek; round their shoulders, moreover, they twist a shawl, throwing over all when they walk, or go to mass, the "beautiful and mysterious mantilla:' The men arc generally tall•and handsome, while their dress is far more elaborate than that of the women. Round a broad-brimmed hat is tied parti-colored cord or handkerchief; a shirt'-which is usually of the finest linen, displays on the breast a profusion of lace and embroidery ; and over the shirt is thrown a cotton or silk jacket of the gayest hues, With frogs on the back, and a regiment of buttons on the breast and cuffs. To come ne;t to the nether man—the pantaloons are split oa the outside from the hip, to the foot, with a row of hut. tons on either edge of the opening, which is laced together nearly down to the knee ; rot,nd the waist is a silken belt, which to say nothino_of_ils_value ornament, serves the utilitarian purpose of bracing up the inexpressibles; and underneath, through the gaps aforesaid, there peers out a pair of full linen drawers, and a boot of untanned deer skin, the boot on the right leg invariably forming the scabbard for that constant companion, the knife. But our dashing friend, to be appreciated by the reader, must be placed on horseback, the quadruped being generally as gay as his master. The saddle, which is encumbered with trapping, rises both be fore and behind, while, at either side, there swings a wooden shovel by way of stirrup. Thus com fortably deposited on his easy chair and pair of footstools, the half of the centaur propels the whole machine by means of enormous spurs, with rowels to match; setting rain at defiance from head to heel, without the aid of any of your patent water proofs. To soy nothing of the broad-brimmed bat, his legs are protected by a pair of goat-skins, which ore attached to the saddle"-bow, and tied around the waist, while his body is coffered by a blanklet.of about eight feet by five, with a hole in the centre for the head. This blanket or serape appears to be to the vanity of the men, what the mantilla is to that of the women. It varies in price from five dollars to a hundred, sixty dollars being the usual rate for a fine one; it is made of cloth of the most snowy colors, sometimes trimmed with velvet and embroidered with gold. With such painted and gilded horsemen, anything like industry is of course out of the question; and accordingly they spend their time from morning to night in billiard playing and horse racing, aggravating:the evils of idleness by ruinonsly heavy bets. In a word, the Californians are a happy people, possessing the means of physical pleasure to the full, and knowing no higher kind of enjoyment. Their happiness certainly is not snob as an Erig- Hellman can covet, though perhaps a Calafornian may with reason disparage much of what passes under the name in England, the accumulating •of wealth for its own sake, the humoring of the capri ces of fashion, and the embittering even of the lux uries of life by blended feeling of envy and pride. But whatever may be the merits or demerits of California happiness, the good 'Ms thrive Upon It. They live long, warding off-the marks of ago for e. period unusual even in some less trying climates, and, with regard to the women this is Abe more remarkable, inasmuch as they were subject, to the wearing effect of early wedlock, sometimes Marry ing at thirteen, and seldom remaining single after sixteen. In the matter of good looks, both !sex*, merely give nature fair play, ?cooling as well ills cares as the toils of life. AMF:III34N Corm—The coinage at the Mint for the last six months (namely from lit January to the let of July, 1847 is 8 8 , 2 06,323—hir exceeding the amount coined .during any similar period of time since the government was founded. Under the new instructions .given by Mr. Walker.under , the law establishing the constitutional treasury. an for eign coin received by the governaient is at ones transferred to the Alia, where it is recoined,ancl pair: out as Americanzoin—the only form hi whitfh it. Will circulate 'among the people. The Union says, "There is ercrg reason to bereave that nearly sixty, millioes. of.liollars will he converted Into American coin during the, adminisuation of Pm. Ideal Polk." II