VOLIISE 53.
NEW SERIES,
THE BEDFORD GAZETTE
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NEVER SAY FAIL.
BT CHARLES JTVAIX.
Keep pushing—'tis wiser
Than sitting aside,
And dreaming and sighing,
And waiting the tide ;
In life's ea'nest battle,
They only prevail
Who daily march onward
And never say fail.
With an eye ever open,
A tongue that's not dumb,
nSnHHHS|
finHL
ilm
'-'fk
to I
V/hateVB
We'll on'
And never
- , m
Hit a t 1 11 a
WteisWTiEWEiE
A THRILLING ADVENTURE.
To the summer of ]S3"2, I was engaged with
i young man named Lyman Kemp, in locating
land lot.; along the Wabash, in Indiana. J hud
cone out partly for my health and partly to
accommodate one who had ever been a noble
friend to me, who had purchased a great deal of
government land. At Davenport he was taken
sick, and after watching him a week, in hopes
that he would soon recovor, I found that he
had a settled fever ; and, as the physician raid
he would not be able to move on under a month,
J determined to push on alone. Sol obtained
good nurse, and, having seen that ny friend
would have eve-i ything necessary to his comfort,
which money could procure, I I It him.
As good fortune would have it, I found a
party of six men bound on the very route that
1 was going, and T waited one day for the sake
of their company. At length we sot out, w :th
three pack-horses to carry our luggage, and I
soon found f lost nothing by waiting, for my
companions were agreeable and entertaining.
They were going to Sf. Joseph, where they had
mills upon the river, intending to get out lumber
the remainder of the season.
On (he (bird day from Locansport we reach
ed Walton's Settlement, on Little River— hav
ing left the U'ahash on the m'cning of (ha! day.
Jj was well on into live evening when we
reached the little log built inn of'tlie settlement,
ac.d we were glad enough of the shelter, fur,
ere we were tair'y under cover, the tain com
menced to tall in great drops, and thickly, too.
And more still 1 had to be thankful, tor my
horse began to show a lameness in one ol his
hind legs, and when I leaped from the saddle,
I found that his foot pained him very much, as
I could tell by the manner in which he lifted
it from the ground. I ordered the ostler to
hathe it with cold water, and then went into
the house, where we found a good substantial
supper, and comfortable quarters for the night
that i.-, comfortable quarters for that coun
try at that time.
About ten o'clock, just afler I had retired,
and just as 1 was falling into a grateful snooze,
I v as startled by the shouts of men and baiking
ol dogs, directly under rnv window. As the
noise continued, I arose, threw on my clothes,
and went down. "What is it ? ' 1 asked ol
th" landlord, who stood in the entry-way.
"Ah ! don't you know, stranger?" said the j
host, returning, "You'vi heard of Gustus Karl, j
perhaps?"
Who, in the West, at that time, had not heard
of him !—the most reckless, daring, and murder
ous robber that ever cursed a country. I told
the host that T had hoard of him often.
"Well," he resumed, "the infernal villain
was here only this afternoon, and murdered
and robbed a man just up the river. We've
been out after him; but he's gin us the slip.
We tracked him as lar as the upper creek, and
there he came out on the bank, fired at us, and
killed one of our horses, and then drove into
the woods. 'We set the dogs on, but they lost
him.
"And you've come back horseless," I said.
"Yes," the landlord growled. "But," he
added, with a knowing shake ol his head, "he
can't run clear much longer. The country is
in arms, and he'll either leave these huntin's or
be dropped."
"What sort of a man is he?" I asked*.
'•The very last man in the world yon would
take for Gug Karl. He is small not a bit over
fivp (Vet six ; with light curl}' hair, a smooth
white lace, and nut very stout. But, Lord love
ye, he's quick as lightning, and his eye's got
lire in it. He dresses in all sorts of shapes, but
generally like a common hunter. Oh ! he's
the very devil,! do believe."
After the tub full of whiskey and water
which the host had provided, was all drunk,
the crowd began to disperse, and shortly after
wards ] went up again to bed : and this time 1
slept on uninterrupted till morning.
I had just eaten my breakfast, and had gone
out to the front door, when a hoiseman came
dashing up to the place, himself and animal all
covered with mud. Tt had been raining all
night. The first thing the newcomer did was
to inquire for me. I answered at once tp the
nanw, and he then informed me that Lyman
Kemp could not live, and that he wished to see
me a> soon as possible.
"The doctor says he must die," said the
messenger, "and the poor fellow now only asks
for life long enough to see you."
"Poor Lyman!" I murmured to myself. "So
young—so hopeful—with so many friends and
lond relatives in his far-off home—and taken
down to die in a strange land." I told the man
I would set out on my return as quick as possi
ble. He ate some breakfast and resumed his
journey, being bound as far up as the Puttaw atto
bill, and then sent lor my horse ;
disappointment awaited me. I
foot swollen very badly, and
so 1m? could hardly step upon it.
■K|||flHMpkl been gooJ 1 should have been
him ; but I knew that in some
PWesThe mud would be deep. I went to the
host and asked him if he could lend or sell me
a horse. He could do neither. His only spare
horse had been shot by the Wabash robber.
There was not a horse in the place to he ob
tained for any amount of money. 1 returned
to the stable and led out my horse, but he could
not even walk with any degreee of ease. I
could not use him. I was in despair.
"Look'ee," said mine host, as I began to des
pond, "can't you manage a canoe?"
"Yes—very well," I told him.
"Then that's your best way. The current is
strong tiiis morning, and without a stroke of
the paddle, 'twould take you along a* fast as a
horse could wade through the mud. You shall
have one of my canoes for just what it is worth,
and you can sell it again at Logansport for as
much."
I caught the proposition instant!j*. f r T
it was a,good one.
"It you daren't sho d the rapids," added the
landlord, "ye can easily shoulder the canoe, and
pack it around. Tisn't far."
f found the boat tob" a well fashioned "Jug
out," large enough to bear lour men with eas,
and at once paid the owner the price—ten dol
lars—and thui had my luggage brought d >wn.
[ gave directions about the treatment of rriy
horse, and then put off. The current was quite
rapid—say four or five miles an hour —but not
at all turbulent, and I soon made up my mind
that it was far better than riding on horseback,
riie batiks of the river were thickly covered
with large trees, and I saw game in plenty, and
more than once I was tempted to fire the con
tents of my pistols at the boldest of the "var
mints," but I had no time, so I kept on. Only
one thing seemed wanting, and that was a com
panion, bat I was destined to find one soon
enough.
ft was shortly after noon, and I had eaten
my dinner of bread and cold meat, when I came
to a place where the river made an abrupt bene!
to the ritiht, and little further ori 1 came to an
abrupt basin where the current formed a per
fect whirlpool. I did not notice it until my
canoe got into it, and found myself going round
instead of going ahead, f plied my wood pad
dle withal! my power, am! soon succeeded in
shooting out from the current but, in doing so,
T ran myself upon the low sandy shore. The
effort had fatigued me not a little, and as I found
myself thus suddenly moored, I resolved to rest
a few minutes.
T had been in this position some ten minutes j
when 1 was startled by hearing a footfall close j
by me, and on looking up I saw a man at t hat ;
side of my boat. He was a young looking per
son, not over tuo-and-thirty, and seemed to be
a hunter.—He wore a wolf-skin shirt, leggiu's J
of red leather, and a cap of bear-skin.
"Which way are you bound, stranger ?" he j
asked in a pleasing tone.
"Down the river to Logansport," I replied, j
"That's fortunate. I wish to go there myself," j
the stranger resumed. "What say you to my I
taking the other paddle, and keeping you compa- ;
n - v " ~ . >
"I should like it," T told him fiankly ; "I've •
been wanting company."
"So have J." added the hunter. "And I've
been wanting some better mode ol conveyance
than these worn out legs, through the deep for
est."
"Come on," I said ; and as I spoke, he leap
ed into the canoe, and having deposited his
ritle in the bow, he took one ol the paddles and
told me he was rpady when I was. So we push- j
ed off, and were soon clear of the whirlpool.
For an hour we conversed freely. The stran
ger told me his name was Adams, and that his
father Jived at Columbus. He was out on a
hunting and exploring expedition with some
! companions, who had gone on to Logansport
■bv horse, he having got separated from them
; ir>- the night, losing his horse into the bar
! gam. He said that he had a great sum of money
about liis person, and that was one reason why
I he disliked to travel in the forest.
Thus he opened his affairs to me, and I
i was fool enough to be equally frank. I admitted
I that I had some money, and told him mv
, business, and by a most unpresuming course of
j remark, he drew from rne the fact that I had
, money enough to purchase forty full lots.
\ Finally the conversation lagged, and I began
jto give my companion a closer scrutiny. I sat
jin the stern of the canoe, and he was at about
j midships, and facing me.—His hair was of a
: light, flaxen hue, and hung in long curls about
his neck ; his features were regular and hatid
| some : and his complexion very light. But
the color of his face was not what one could call
fair. It was a cold, bloodless color, like pale
1 marble. And fir the first time, too, f now look
'ed particularly at his eyes. They were grey
in cfflor, and had (he brilliancy of glaring ice.
Their light was intense, hut cold and glittering
like a snake's. When I thought of his age I
set him down for not much over thirty.
Suddenly a sharp, cold shudder ran through
my frame, and mv heart leaped with a wild
thrill. As sure as fate—l knew it—there could
be no doubt I had taken into my ccnoe, and
into my confidence, Gustus Karl, the Wabash
Robber. Forafew moments I feared myemotions
would betray me. I looked carefully over his
person again, and I knew I was not mistaken.
I could look back now and see bow cunningly
he had led me on ton confession of my circum
stances—how he had made me tell my affairs,
and reveal (he state of my finances. What a
fool 1 had been ! But it '.vas too late to think
of the past. I had enough to do to look out for
what was evidently to come.
I at length managed to overcome ail my out
ward emotions, and then 1 began lo watch my
companion morp sharply and closely. My pis
tols were both handy, and I knew they were in
order, for I lad examined them both in the
forenoon, when I thought of firing at some game.
They were in the breast pockets of my coat,
which pockets had been made cn purpose for
them, and 1 could reach them a! any instant.
Another hour passed away, and by that time I
had become assured that the robber would make
no attempt upon me until after nightfall. He
said that it would be convenient that we were
together, for we could run ail night, as one
could steer the canoe while the other slept.
"Ay," I added, with a smile ; "that is good
forme, for every hour is valuable.— I would nut
triiss meeting my friend Tor the world."
"Oh you'll meet him, never fear," said my
companion.
Ah! bespoke that with a meaning. J
understood it well. I knew what that sly tone
and that strange gleaming of the eye meant.
He meant that he would put me on the road to j
meet poor Kemp in the other world! 1 won
dered only now that I had not detected the rob
ber when I first saw him, fur the expression of
his face was so heartless, so icy—and then his
eyes had such a wicked look—that the r niit
.--ia r i J} .,:.„ not have failed
to detect the villain at once.
During the rest of the alternoo we conversed j
some, but not so freely as before. I could see !
that the villain's eves were not so frankly bent
upon mine as he spoke, and then he seemed:
inclined to avoid my direct glances. These j
movements on his part were notstudi. I, or even
intentional; but they were instinctive, as though
his very nature led him thus. At length night
came on. We ate our supper, and then smoked
our pipes, and finally my companion proposed
that I should sleep before he did. At first I
thought of objecting, hnt a few minutes reflec
tion told me that I had better behave as though
he were an honest man; sol agreed to his propo
sition. He took my seat at the stern, and I
moved further forward and having removed the
thwart upon which mv companion had been
sitting, 1 spread my cloak in the bottom of the
canoe, and then having placed my valise for a
pillow, 1 lay down. As soon as possiplo I drew
out one of mv pistols, and under the cover ofa
cough, I cocked it.—Then I moved my body so
that my right arm would be at !ibert\', and
grasping iny weapon firmly, with my finger on j
the guard, 1 drew up my mantle, slouched my !
hat, and then settled down for my watch.
Fortunately for me llit- moon was up, and
though the forest threw a shadow upon me, yet
the beams fell upon Karl, and I could see his
movements. We were well into the Wabash,
having entered it about three o'clock.
"You will call me at midnight." I S3 id
drowsily.
"Yes," he returned.
"Good night."
"Good night—and pleasant dreams. I'll
have you further on your way than you think
ere you wake up again."
"Perhaps so," thought I to myself, as J
lowered my head, and pretended to lower my
self to sleep.
For half an hour my companion steered the
canoe very well, and seemed to take hut little
notice of me; but at the end of that time I;
could see that he became more uneasy. I com
menced to snore with a long, regularly-drawn
breath, anil on the instant the villain started as
starts tin- hunter when he hears the tread ot'
game in the woods.
But hark 1 Aha—there was before one lin
gering f't-ar in my mind that I might shoot the
wrong man : but it was gonp now. As the fel
low stopped the motion ofthe paddle, I distinct
ly heard him mutter:.
"O-ho, my dear sheep—you little dreamed
| that Gus Karl was your companion. But he'll
jdo you a good turn. If your friend is dead,
i you shail follow him, and take your traps to pay
| your passage to heaven !"
I think these were the very words. At any
rate, they were their drift. As he thus spoke
! he noiselessly drew in the paddle, and rose to
| his feet. I saw him reach up over his left
I shoulder, and when he brought back his hand
|he had a huge bowie-knife in it. I could see
j the blade gleam in the pale moonlight, and I
j saw Karl run his thumb along the edge, and
> then feel the point ! My heart beat fearfully,
and my breathing was hard. It was with the
: utmost exertion that I could continue my sno
ring, but I managed to do it without interrup
tion. Slowly and noiselessly the foul wretch
j proceeded to approach me. Oh! his step would
i not have awakened a hound—and his long,
gleaming knife was half raised. I could hear
the grating of his teeth as he nerved himself for
Freedom of Thought and Opinion.
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, MARCH 26, 185a
the stroke.
The villain was by my side, and measured
the distance from his hand to my heart with
his eye. In his left hand he held a thick hand
kerchief all wadded up. That was to stop my
mouth with. Every nerve in my body was
now stiung, and my heart still as death. Of
course my snoring ceased, and at that instant
the huge knife was raised above my bosom !
Quick as thought I brought my pistol up—the
muzzle was within a foot of the robber's heart
—fie uttered a quick cry I saw the bright:
blade quiver in the moonlight, but it came not
upon me. I pulled the trigger, and the fear
was past. I had thought that the weapon might
miss fire, but it did not. There was a sharp re
port; as I sprang up and backed, I heard a
fierce yell, and at the same time the robber fell
forward, his head striking my knee as it came
down."
Weak and faint I sank back, but a sudden
tip oi the canoe brought me to my senses, and J
went aft and took file paddle. As soon as the
boat's head was once more right I turned my
eyes upon the form in the bottom of the canoe,
and then I saw it quiver—only a slight spas
modic movement—and ilien all was still.
All that night I sat there at my watch and
steered my little bark. I had my second pistol
ready, for I knew not surely that the wretch
wasdead. He might he waittng to catch me
offivy guard,and then shoot me. But the night
passed slowly and drearily away, and when the
morning broke the lorm had not moved. Then
I stepped forward and found that Gustos Karl
was dead ! He had fallen with his knife true
to its aim, for it struck very near the snot where
my heart must have been, and the point was
driven so far into the solid wood that I had to !
work hard to pull it out, and harder still to un
clasp the marble fingers that were closed with
dung madness about the handle.
Swift flowed the tide, ami ere the sun again '
sank to rest 1 had reached Logansport. The
authorities knew the face of Gustus Karl at once,
and when I had told them my story, they pour
ed out a thousand thanks upon my head. A ;
purse was raised : and the offered reward put
wit!) it, and tendered to me. I took the simple
reward from tire generous citizens, while the
remainder I directed should be distributed a- i
mong those uho had suffered most from the
Wahasb robber's depradations.
1 t ;umJ Kemp sick and miserable. He was
burning with fever, and the doctors had shut
him up in a room where a well man must soon
have suffocated.
i\Y aie; Water . X- nnme. cive me ;
Water !" he gasped.
'•Haven't you had any?" I asked.
He told me no. J threw open the windows,
sent for a pail of ice-water, and was on the point
of administering it w hen the old doctor came in. j
lie held up his hands in horror, and told me it '
would kill the sick man. But I forced him
back and Kemp drank the grateful beverage.
He drank deeply and then slept. The perspi
ration poured from him like rain, and when he
awoke, the skin was moist, and the fever was
turned. In eight days he sat in his saddle, by
my side, and started for Little River. At Wal
ton's settlement ! found my horse wholly recov
ered, and when I offered to pay for his keeping
the host would take nothing. The story of my
adventure on the river had reached there ahead \
of me, ami this was the landlord's gratitude. j
REPTILES OF TEXAS.
We alt remember the delightful descriptions
which early writers gave of the territory com
prised within the limits of the State of Texas.
Its health, salubrity and beauty may be all that
poets delight to paint; but on its magnifi
cent plains, and in its illimitable forests, are ani
mals, such as toads and frogs, and "such small
deer," of which Goldsmith never dreamed in
his Animated Nature. A late writer thus speaks
of the reptiles of Texas:
The cattle are not the whole occupants of the
prairie, bv any means. Droves of wild horses
are nut unfrequent, and deer are in countless
numbers. The small brown wolf is quite com- j
mon, and you occasionally get a glimpse of his
large black brother. But Texas is the paradise
of reptiles and creeping things. Rattle and
moccasin snakes are too numerous even to shake
a stick at. The bite of the former is easily cured
by drinking raw whiskey till it produces intoxi
cation ; hut for the latter there is no cure. The
tarantula is a pleasant institution to get into a
quarrel with. He is aspider with a body about
the size of a hen's egg, and his legs five or six i
inches long, covered with hair. He lies in cat
tie-tracks ; and, if you see him, move out of bis j
path, as his bite is absolutely Certain death; and
he never gets out of the way, but can jump right
or ten feet to indict his deadly bite. Then there
is the centip"de, furnished with an unlimited
number of legs, each leg formed with a claw,
indicting a separate wound. If he walks over
you at night, you will have cause to remember i
him for months to come, as his wound is of a J
particular poisonous nature, and is very difficult
to liexl. The stinging lizzard is a lesser evil,
the sensation of its wound being likened to
the application of a red-hot-iron to the person ;
but one is too thankful to escape with life to
consider these lesser evils as annoyances. But
the insects! flying, creeping, running, digging, .
buzzing, stinging—they are everywhere. Ask i
for a cup of water, and the rejoinder in our
camp is, "Will you have it with a bug or with
out ?" The horned frog is one of the greatest
curiosities here, and is perfectly harmless. It
has none of" the cold slimy qualities of his nor
thern brother, but is frequently made a pet of ;
Chameleons are innumerable, darting oier the
prarie with inconceivable swiftness, and under
coiner their peculiar change of color of the ob
met Tinder which they may be. The woods on
the banks of the bayous are perfectly alive with
mocking birds, most beautiful, and feathered
game is very abundant and very tame, and is
scarcely ever sought after. The only variet}'
that I have seen are quails, partridges, snipe,
mallard, plover and prairie hens.
A YANKEE STORY.
ABOUT half.past eleven o'clock on Sunday
night, a human leg, enveloped in blue cloth,
might havp been seen entering
Barberry's kitchen window. The lew was
followed, finally, by the entire person of a live
Yankee, attired in his Sunday-go-to-meetin'
clothes. It was, in short Joe Mayweed who
thus burglariously won his way into the Dea
con's kitchen.
"Wonder how much the old Deacon made
by orderin' me not to darken his door again V j
soliloquized the young gentleman. "Promised
him I wouldn't but I didn't say nothin' about
winders. Winders is as good as doors ef there :
ain't no nails to tear your trousers onto. Won
der ef Sally will come down ?—The critter
promised me. I'm afeered to move about here, '
cause I might break my shins over somethin'or
nother and wake the old folks. Cold enough
to freeze a Polish bear here. O, here comes j
Sally."
The beauteous maid descended with a pleas
ant smile, a tallow candle, and a box of lucifer
matches. Alter receiving a rapturous greeting,
she made a rousin' fire in the cooking stove,
and the happy couple sat down to enjoy the
sweet interchange of vows and hopes. But the
course of true love ran not a whit smoother in
old Barberry's kitchen than it does elswhere,
and Joe, who was just making up his mind to
treat himself to a kits, was startled by the voice
of the Deacon, her father, shouting- from the
chamber door :
"Sally! what are you getting up in the
middle of the night for ?"
"Tell him it's morning," whispered JOP.
"I can't teli a fib," said Sally.
"I'll make it truth, then," said Joe ; and
running to the huge old-fashioned clock that
stood in the corner, he set it at five.
"Look at the clock and tell me what time
it is," cried the old gentleman.
"It is five by tlie clock," said Sally ; and
corroborating her words, the clock struck five.
The lovers sa! down again and resumed their
conversation. Suddenly the stair case began to
crpak.
"Good gracious ! it's father," exclaimed
Sally.
" The Deaccn, by thunder !" cried Joe.—
"Hide mp, Sally !"
"Where can I hide you ?" cried the distrac
ted girl.
"Oh, I know," said he. "I'll squeeze my
self into the clock case."
Without another word, he squeezed himsell
tin ) IIH* tluuK v-dar, uiivi cn/om A- uvu.
The ilea con was dressed, and seating him
self before the cooking stove, pulled out his pipe
lighted it, and began deliberately to smoke.
"Five o'clock, eh ?" said he. "Well, I shall
have time to smoke three or four pipes and then
I'll go and feed the critters."
"Hadn't you better feed the critters first ?"
suggested the dutiful Sally.
"No ; smokin' clears my head and wakes me
up," said the old Deacon, who seemed not a
whit disposed to hurry his pnjoyment.
Bur-wbiz-ding ! ding! ding ! ding ! went the
clock.
"Tormented lightning !" cried the Deacon,
stalling upand dropping his pipe on the stove,
"what'n airth's that ?"
"It's only the clock striking five," returned
Sally tremulously.
Whiz! ding ! ding ! ding ' ding! went the
clock furiously.
'-Deacon Barberry !" cried the Deacon's wife
who had hastily robed herself, and now came
plunging down the staiicase in the wildest slate
of alarm, "what in the ereat universe is the
matter with the old clock ?"
"Goodness only knows," replied the old man.
"It's been a hundred years in the family, and
it never carried on so afore."
Whiz ! ding ! ding ! vvhiz-z ! went the old
clock again.
"It'll bust itself," cried the old lady, shed
ding a flood of tears, "anil there won t be any
thing left of it !"
"It's bewitched!" said the Deacon, who
retained a leaven of good old New Lngland
superstition in his nature. "Any how," said
he, after a pause, advancing resolutely towards
the clock, "I'll see what's going on in it."
"Oh ! don't" cried his daughter, seizing one
ot the old Deacon's coat tails, while his wife
clung to the other. "Don't chotused both
of the women together.
"Let go my raiment !" shouted the old Dea
con. "I ain't afeered ol the powers of dark
lit-??.
But the women wouldn't let go ; so the Dea
con slipped out of his coat and while, from the
sudden cessation of resistance, they fell heavily
to the floor, he pitched forward and seized the
knob of the clock. But r.o human power could
open it, for Joe was holding it on the inside
with a death-like grasp.
The old Deacon began !o be dreadfully fright
ened. Me gave one more lug, when an unearth
ly veil as if a fiend, in distress, hurst from the
inside, then theclok case pitched head foremost
at the Deacon, fell headlong to the floor, smash
ed its face, and wrecked its fair proportions.
The current of air extinguished the lamp—the
Deacon, the old lady and Sally fled upstairs,
and Joe Mayweed, extricating himself from the
mass of splinters, effected his escape in the
same way by which he entered.
The next day all App'eton was alive with
the story how Deacon Barberry's clock had
been bewitched, and although many believed
his version, some, and especially Joe Mayweed
affected to discredit the whole affair, and hinted
that the Deacon had been trying the experi
ment of tasting frozen cider, and that the vaga
ries ofthe clock case existed only in a distem
pered imagination. .
However, the interdict being taken off, Joe
was allowed to resume his courting, and won
the assent of the old people to his union with
Sally, by repairing the clock until it went as
well as ever.
WHOLE if I'M HER 2759..
j
A Colored discourse.
A correspondent of the Knickerbocker, who
writes from Mansfield, Ohio, sends the fol
lowing "Discourse," for the entire authentici
ty of which he vouches without reserve taking
taken it down from the thick-lips of the reverend
orator himself.
"My tex, brodern and sisters, will be foun
in de lus chapter ob Ginesis, and twenty-sebea
verse."
"So de Lor' made Adam. I tole you how h®
make him ; He make him out ob clay, an' sot
'im on a board an' he look at 'iin an' he say,
| "Fusratean' when he get dry, he brethe in
im de braffob life. He put 'im in de garden
ob Eden, and sot 'im in one corner ob de lot,
an' he tole him to eat all de apples, "ceptin"
dem in de middle ob de orchard; dem he wan
ted fur he winter apples.
By me bye Adam be lonesome. So de Lor*
make Ebe. ] tole you how he make hpr. He
gib Adam loditim, till he got soun' sleep, den
he gouge a rib out he side an' make Ebe j an' h®
set Ebe in de corner ob de garden, an' he tole
her to eat all de apples, "ceptin" dem in de
middle ob de orchard dem he wanted fur he
winter apples.
Wun day de Lor' goot.M a visitia', de debble
he cum along : he dress 'imself up in de skin ob
de snake ; an' he find Ebe an' he tole h *r, "Ebe!
why fur you no pet de apples in de middle ob
de orchard ?*' Ebe says, "Dems de Lor's win
ter apples." But de debble says : "I tole you
fur to eat d>'m, case dey's de bes apples in da
orchard." So Ebe eat de apple, an' gib Adam
a bite ; an' de debble go wav.
Byme bye de Lor' cum home, an' he miss d®
winter apples : so' he call "Adam." Adam he
lay low ;so de Lor' call again, "You, Adam !"
Adam say, "Ilea Lor'!" and de L >r' says, "Who
stole de winter apples?" Adam tole 'im he
don't know—Ebe he spec." So de Lor' call:
"Ebe !" Ebe she lay low ; de Lor' call again,
"A on Ebe !" Ebe say, "hea Lor'!" De Lor'say
"who stole de winter apples!" Ebe tole him
don't know—Adam, she spec'. So de Lor'
kofch 'em bo/T, an' he throw dem ober de fence,
an' he tole 'em, "Go work fur vour libbin'."
A negro in Boston had a severe attack of
rheomatism, which finally settled in his foot.
He bathed it, and rubbed it, and swathed it—but
all to no purpose. Finally, tearing away the
bandages, he stuck it out, and with a shake of
his fist over it, exclaimed—"Ache away, den,
ole feller—acheaway. Ishantdo nofFin more
—so acn'e ; %f/y( < ; a/4 ' # as lons as you ken
man who was crossing the river, and
who was thrown from the boat with a large
horse and a small pony, was emphatically
"quick witted." He seized upon the pony's
tail, (that being the nearest to h'rm.) for he
rouhlnt swim a yard. Some one on shore cried
out, "Catch hold of the tail of the big horse!"
"No, no, he answered, "no time to swap hor
ses now."
Sunday a lady called to her little boy
who was tossing maibles on the sidewalk, to
come into the house. "Dont you know you
shouldn't be out there, my son ? Go into tha
backyard, ifycu want to play marbles—it i
; Sunday."
"Well, yes. But ain't it Sunday in f/ie back
yard, mother!"
| "ItF'U'e won't indulge in such a'horrid an
ticipation," as the henpecked husband said
: when the parson told him he would be
joined to his wife in another world, never to be
separated (rom her. "Parson, I beg you won't
mention the unpleasant circumstance again,"
said he.-
I send for the Doctor." "Why
my son?" "Cause that man in the parlor if
going to die—he said he would if sister Jane
did not marry him, and Jane said she wouldn't."
OIF"John," said a gentleman to his butler,
; either you or I must quit the house." "Very
well, sir," said John, "where will your honor
be after going to?"
I here, my dar ; I want to ask you
all about vour sister. Has she go! a beau?" "No
it's the jaundice she's got ; the doctor says so.
"Here's your money, dolt. Now tell me
■ why vour master wrote eighteen letters about
1 that paltry sum 7 " said an exasperated debtor to
: a boy sent with a dun.
"I'm sure, sir, I can't tell sir ; but if you'll
' excuse me, sir, I think it was because seven
teen letters did not fetch it."
"Now, George you must divide the cake hgn
orablp with your brother Charles."
| "What is honorably," mother ?
"It means that you must give him the largest
i piece."
"Then, mother, I'd rather that Charley should
: divide it."
Marriageable young women are in great
demand out West. A Yankee writer from
that section to his father, says, "Suppose you
<*et our <"irls some new teeth and send them
: out."
ttF~An Indian out West was heard to make
the following exclamation, on seeing one of our
fashionable (hooped) ladies "Ugh, much wig'
icam
tCF"Dan Rice says that the people were 10
' nice when he performed at Niblo's, he wasobli
ged to call the garters, slocking suspenders.
young lady who was lost in thought
has at last been found. She declares that 3ha
only forgot herself while hugging an idea,
! which turned out to be a man!
i
fEF"'I wonder what makes my eyes so weak,'
■ said a fop to a gentleman. "You needn't won
-1 der—they are in a weak place," replied the
VOL 1, NO. 34.