The Bedford gazette. (Bedford, Pa.) 1805-current, April 20, 1860, Image 1

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    VOLUME 56.
NEW SERIES.
rpHS BEDFORD GAZETTE,
I IS PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING
BV 25. F- MLVEiIS,
At the following terms, to wits
$1.50 per annum, CASH, in advance.
$2.00 " " if paid within the year.
$-2.50 " " it not paid within the year.
[£7"Xo subscription taken for less than six months.
paper discontinued until all arrearages are
paid,unless at the option of the puhlisber. jt has
Seen decided by the United States Courts that the
stoppage of a newspaper without tne payment of ar
rearages, is prima facie evidence ol fraud and is a
criminal offence.
tJsr"The courts have decided that persons are ac
countable for the subscription price of newspapers,
it the) take them from the post office,whether they
subscribe for them, or not.
1 WUD NOT DIE IN VVINTUiR, Sic.
ST THE ORTHUR OV "THORTS ON A FADEIi BOKA."
1 wud knott dye in VVint ur,
When whiskie punchiz fio—
When pooty gals are skatin
O'er fields ov Ice and sno—
W hen sassidge meets is phrying
And hickeri knutts is thick ;
Owe who kud think ov dighing,
Or even gitting sick ?
I wud knott dye in Spring-time,
And miss the turn-up greans,
And the pooty song of the lea tie frawgs,
And the skigh-lark's arly skreems,
When burcs begin their wobbling,
And taters 'gin to sprout,
When turkies go a goblering,
1 wud knott then peg out.
1 wud knott dye in summer.
And leve the garding sars—
The rosied lam an butter-milk—
The kool place in the grars ;
I wud knott dye in summer,
When everything's so hott,
And leve the whiskie jew-lips—
Owe kno ! I'd rather knott.
I wud/nott dye in Ortum,
With peecbes fitt for eeting ;
When the wavy lorn is gitting wripe,
And Candidates are treating.
. Phor these and other reasons,
Ide Cnott dye in the phall ;
And sense I've thortit over,
I wud Cnott dye at all.
BREACHING 1Y THE FAR WEST-
The same contrariety that leads cripples to
become porters and; walking postmen, and deal
men to fiil the situation ol 8.,0ts at our inns, has
not seldom imbued blind persons with a passion
lor travel. Over the iast ciass, the Rev. Wil
liam Henry Miiburn, of the United States, may
certainly claim present pre-eminence. He is
not, indeed, altogether sightless; the light eye
retains the smallest possible transparent spot,
not much larger than a p .Ts point, in the cor
ner of the pupil, through which the light may
make its way : "though, to make this fraction
ot an eye available, it is necessary to use 3 shade
above the eye, and to place the middle linger
ol the right hand beneath it, thus tormmg a sort
ol ariiticia! pupil, allowing only the due quan
tity ot light to enter." .Nevertheless, since,
before this accident (which was occasioned by
an oyster shell thrown by a school compan
ion,) he had fortunately learned to read, he be
came, under these disadvantageous circuinstau
< es, a greedy devourer ut books, and accom
plished student of the university of Illinois : an
nima mater which may boast, with truth, of the
rare virtue of never having conferred the title
of D. D. on any unworthy ofcjeci, inasmuch a>
throughout rts five-anti-twenty years'existence,
it has never had occasion to confer it at all.
The Milburns were driven from Philadelphia
bv commercial shipwreck, in 1837, and cl
course found the capital ot the far West to a
great deal cheaper place to live in. Some of
the aborigines, however, complained, it seems,
of its prices, low as they were, and were thus,
to Mr. Miiburn's hearing, reproved by a female
eggseller: "What! do ye s'pose our hens are
gwine to strain theirselves a-laymg eggs at three
cents a dozen ? Lay 'em yoursell, and see how
you'd like the price." Although, indeed, he
could not see very well, the author of 7'en Years
of Preachers-life had powers of observation
greater than those of most men with perfect
eye, and suffered absolutely nothing to escape
his ears. Having embraced the profession ol
• preacher in the Wesleyan Methodist connection,
he was appointed to the Winchester circuit,
consisting of some thirty preaching-places—
some of them chapels, more ol them log-school
houses, most of thein private dwellings—at an
average of some ten miles apart. He had to
preach a sermon a day, and make his three-hun
dred -mile round thirteen times a year. Thus
he g,,t acquainted with almost every man, wo
man and child within his beat, and a school o
puned to him for studying human nature which
he would scarcely have found elsewhere. The
privilege, however, seems to have lormed his
principal reward, since of pecuniary recompense
he had only four hundred dollars per annum.
We do not wonder that, with such a miserable
slipmd, a young man in the same position as
himself—a "helper in the ministry"—was once
convicted at the quarterly Conference, of the
practice ol "swopping-horses," in order to make
both ends meet. All the charges against this
juvenile preacher were characteristically rebuff
ed. First, that he could not preach ; second,
that he was attentive to all the girls around the
circuit, and tnird that he was constantly enga
ged in swopping horses. In defending him
self, he 6tated, first, that he knew, as well as
any of them, that he could not preach, and he
was sure it did not trouble them as it did him ;
second, that they need not be alarmed about his
attention to the girls, for he would not think ol
marrying the daughter of any man present ;
and third, as to trading horses, what else was to
be done T they paid him nothing and he had no
other way ol making money enough to buy his
clothes."
The discipline of this Western Church i-, ra
ther rough when compared with that of Oxford
and Cambridge, and the method of imparling
the art of extempore preaching seems somewhal
analogous to that ol teaching our dogs to swim.
The neophyte was "chucked in," and had to
land himself how he could in this fashion.
"William, exhort !" cried the presiding elder
quite unexpectedly,! one meeting night, to our
young author, who had never betoie opened his
mouth in public. "I had no resource but to
stand up, frightened as 1 was almost to death,
behind my split-bottom chair, in lieu of a pul
pit, in front of the huge fireplace, and attempt
to speak by the light of the smouldering embers,
and one or two candles fast sinking to their
sockets, to the crowd of hunters and farmers
filling the cabin, who gaped and stared at a
pallid, beardless hoy. Of course, words were
! few, and ideas fewer, and on resuming my seat,
1 had the uncomfortable impression that tha'
congregation had listened to about as poor a
discourse as ever was delivered. Such was my
first attempt at preaching."
The bishops of this community, although
much respected, seem to obtain by no means an
unanswering ob"dience from their subordinates.
One of these was explaining to his diocesan
j that he practiced medicine (which had b-en
j made a ground of complaint against him) only
| for the good of his flock. "Now, Mr. Bishop,
i you know that we are commanded to do good to
.the bodies as well as the souls of men. if I
I were traveling in a region where the doctors
j were scarce, and were to find a man in a bad
j spell ol bilious fever, ye know I would throw
him into a sweat, then give him a dose of lobelia
or thorough wort"—
"No. sir,' interrupted the bishop rather haugh
tily • 'no, brother, 1 do not know, and, what is
more, I do not care, what you would do."
"Very well sir, very well," retorted the o
fher : "you have as good a right to live and die
a fool as any other man."
Another preacher, remarkable for his humor
as well as his godliness, was reproved by his
superior for indulging in such drollery as set
the sober Methodist Conference in a roar.
"Brother," inquired he in a monitory tone,
"do you think you are growing in grace?"
"Yes, Bishop," was the reply : I think I am
in spots ?"
This man was no less than the celebrated
Peter Cartwright, an apostle exactly fitted for
those scenes wherein he wrought his mission
out so well.
He had then been a backwoods preacher for
nearly forty years, ranging the country from
the. Lakes to the Cult, and from the Alleaha
nies to the Mississippi. He was inured to every
form of hardship and had looked calmly at per'-
il of every kind—the tomahawk of the Indian,
the spring of the panther, the hug of the bear,
the sweep of the tornado, the rush of swollen
torrents, and the fearful chasm of the earth
quake. He had lain in the canebrake, and
made his bed upon the snow of the prairie, and
on the oozy soil of the swamp, and had wander
ed hunger-bitten amid the solitude of moun
tains. He had been in jeopardy among robbers,
and in danger from desperadoes who had sworn
to take his life. He had preached in the cabin
of the slave, and in the cabin of the master : to
the Indians, and to the men of the border. He
had taken his life in his hand, and ridden in the
path of whizzing bullets, that tie might pro
claim peace. He had stood on the outskirts of
civilization, and welcomed the first comers to
the woods and prairies. At the command of
Him who said, -—"Go into all the world." lie
had roamed through the wilderness; as a disci
pline of the man who said ; "The world is my
parish." His travels had equalled the limits o;
an empire. Ail this he had done without hope
of fee or reward ; not to enrich himself or his
posterity, but as a preacher of righteousness in
the service of God and his feilow r ,ten. Eve
rywhere he had confronted wickedness, and
rebuked it ; every form of vice had shrunk a
bashed from his irresistible sarcasm and ridicule,
or quivered beneath the fiery look ot his indig
nant invective.
This was a hero whom no church—and in
deed no man worth his salt—would venture to
despise or make light of: and since tt)e t h^ ws
of Anak, it would have been a dangerous thin<*
to do so. He, on his part, was by no means
wanting in the exaction of such respect as was
due to him. A room had once been reserved
for him at the Irving House, in Yew York : but
having arrived there late at night, the sleepy
hotel clerk did not recognize his name in the
somewhat illegible characters which the back
woodsman inscribed in the registers-book, nor
Cartwright himself in the farmer-like-looking
man before him. The great preacher was there
fore lodged very high up, and immediately un
der the tile.
The patronizing servant explained to the
traveller the use of the .various articles in she
loom, and said, on leaving, pointing to the [ Jt .|l- ;
rope : If you want any thing, you can just pull
that, and somebody will come up.
The old gentleman waited until the servant
had had time to descend, and then gave the
rope a furious jerk. Up came the servant,
bounding two or three steps at a time, and was
amazed at the reply in answer to bis "What
will } ou have sir V'
"How are you all coming on down below ?
It is such away from here to there, that a body
can have no notion even ol the weather where
you are."
The servant assured him that all was going
on well, and was dismissed ; but had scarcely
reached the office before another strenuous pull
at the bell was given. The bell in the City
Hall had struck a fire-alarm, and the firemen,
with their apparatus, were hurrying with con
fused noises, along the street.
"What's wanting, sir ?" the irritated,
servant.
"What's all this hulla-balloo ? said the stran-j
ger.
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY SWING, APRIL 20,1860.
j "Only a fire, sir."
"A fire, sir!" shouted the other. "Do yon
( want us all to be burned up?" knowing well
i enough the fire was not on tne premises.
"The servant assured him of the distance of
the conflagration, and that all was sat., and a
j gain descended. A third furious pull at the
bell, and the almost breathless servant again
made his appearance at the door.
"Bring men hatchet," said the traveller, in
a peremptory tone.
. "A hatchet, sir !" said the astonished waiter.
"Yes, a hatchet." "What for sir ?"
"That's none of your business: go and fetch
me a hatchet."
The servant descended, and informed the
clerk that, in his private opinion, that old chap
was crazy, and tiiat he intended to commit
suicide, or to kill some one in the house, for he
wanted a hatchef.
ihe clerk, with some trepidation, ventured
to the room beneath the leads and having pre
sented himself, said, in his blandest lone, "I beg
your pardon, sir, but what was it you wanted ?"
"A hatchet,' - said the imperious stranger.
"A hatchet." sir, really; but what for 7 said
the other.
"What fr ! Why, look here, stranger.—
You see 1 m not accustomed to these big houses,
and it's such a journey from this to where you
are, that I might get lost. Now, its my custom
when I am in a strange country, to blaz** mv
way. We cut notches in the trees, and call
that blazing, and we can then always find our
way back ags.in. So I thought if I had a hatch
et, I'd just go out and blaze the corners from
this to your place, and then I would be able to
find my way back."
"[ beg your paidon sir," said the mystified
clerk ; "but what's your name sir ? I could
not read it very well on Ihe book."
"My name," replied the other ; "certainly;
my debts are all paid, and my will is made—
my name is Peter Cartwright, at your ser
vice."
"O, . Ir. Cartwright," responded the oUier.
"I beg you ten thousand pardons. We have a
room fir you, sir, on the second floor—the best
room ia the borne. This way, sir, if you
pleas"."
"All right," said the old gentleman ; that's
all I wanted."
Mr. Miiburn's modestv causes him to dwell
in general upon the doings of others rather than
upon Ms own, but one very remarkable and
praiseworthy act of his lie is obliged Is tell. It
Dappened that our author had been appointed
to collect subscriptions for a certain good
work, by the Conference, but without any sala
ry save ten per cent of what he might get out
|of the pickets of the benevolent. As what he
! got, however, was nothing, the ten per cent was
I not worth speaking of, and on one occasion he
found himself aboard a Cmcinnatti steamboat,
absolutely without a s.ngle cent in his pocket.
In the same company were several eminent
members of Congress, who played cards night
and day, drank immoderately, and swore in a
manner to rasp Ihe good preacher's ears comid
erahly. Accordingly, when a fog came on.
which prevented passengers landing to spend
the Sabbath, Mr. Miiburn was asked to preach,
lie concluded his discourse to a numerous con
gregation or a fur higher grade than he had
been accustomed to address, with the most
ieariul denunciations of this unsenatoria! con
duct.
"1 must tell you that, as an American citizen
I feel disgraced by your behaviour : as a prea- i
rlier of th-> goq>el, I am commissioned to tell you j
that, unless you renounce your evil courses, re- •
pent of your s:ns, and believe upon the Lord i
Jesus Christ with hearts unto righteousness, you j
will certainly be damned."
While cogitating, in |, IS s ; a u. cabin, over j
the bomo-be"U he had just been casting, there I
was a tap a-' tne door. A gentleman entered I
who -aid : "I have heen requested to wait upon !
you by the members of Congress on board, who
have had a meeting since the close 'of the re- J
ligious exercises. i hey me to present '
you with tins purse ot munev"—"-handing me i
between fifty and a hundred dollars—"as a to
ken of their appreciation of your sincerity and j
fearlessness in reproving tli-iu for their miscon
duct ; they have also desired me to ask it you
Wl<! allow your name to be used at the coming
election for Chaplain to Congress. It you will
consent to this, they are readv to assure vou an
honorable election."
No political appointment, perhaps, was ever
earned more honorably than this. It is not
to be wondered at, that so brave a man as
Miiburn dares to speak out manfully Ins
sentiments concerning Slavery. He is con
tent to urge the right of persons ot color 'to be
instructed in the Christian religion, and there
to stop. Indeed, he takes an almost malicious
pleasure in reciting the following experience
of his own. in crossing the Alleghanies from
Chambersburg, eight passengers'had been allot
ted to the stage wherein he was about to trav
el.
An old colored woman was anxious to be the
ninth, but objection had been raised. She de
clared with tears in her eyes, that she had been
waiting for several days to get a seat ; that al
though she had her ticket, they had been unable
to carry her, the stages having been crowded
with through passengers ; that now her money
was spent, and she must go home to her daugh
ter. A stout Missourian who was to be of our
company, swore roundly that he "wouldn't
rid? with a nigger, and that she shouldn't go."
Touched by the old woman's condition, I said
to him quietly : ''My friend, what right have
you to interfere? Her ticket is as"good as
yours, and she has as much right to a seat as you
have. ' "No," he said, "she is a nigger, and
1 am while ; and I'll whip any man that says
she has as good a right to have, or insists upon
taking her along." "Then," said I, "you can
whip me, for I say she shall go." The idea of
a giant whipping a pigmy was too preposter
ous. It raised a laugh against him, and he
Freedom of Thought and Opinion.
submitted, because ridicule vas more potent
than reason. ... I to ta.s good'eai eof my
j protege, giving her money to provide food at
ber various halts, and in every '• av sought to
jromote her comfort. As we vent -attlir, g
down the streets of Piitsburg, >ate ... the eco<i,
tjight, I threw open the curtain on my side u:
the coach, and sat looking out into the night,
through which the street lamps struggled, with
the indefinable curiosity and awe one at ways
experiences in entering a stiange city late at
rtignt, and the*prospect of a good bed and quiet
hotel, when I was suddenly roused from my
ivvtrie by a violent biow on my side, delivered
tjy my old dame, as she screamed in anger :
"Lean up ! Uan up! what you takin' all der
finder for ? Don't you 'spose pussons ob cul
!tr habdere rights as well as you good-for-noth
irg whites ? I wants to see de scenery too." \
I believe it wa3 the verdict of my feliow
passengets, that I received what I had deser
ved.
There is nmther rectory-house nor manse for !
i the travelling preacher of Illinois ; he depends
solely upon the native hospitality or Christian
Ueling of the inhabitants of'thal scantily popu
lated rpgion, and rarely fails to find a ready,
i though often rough accomodation. Neverthe
' less, it seems scarcely a lour to take one's wife
•n the honeymoon, as iiev. William Henry Mil
burn did, rathei, as we should think, to the la
dy's astonishment. Upon arriving at a set
tlement, his custom was to tell the driver to
take them to the door of the Methodist who
iived in the largest and most comfortable dwel
ling.
"Halloo, the bouse," cried I. "Halloo your
self ; what do you want?" was the reply. "I
am traveling with my wife, and learning that
the quarters at the hotel are bad, have come to
get some supper, anc ) spend a part ot the night
with you." As I said tins, I was making the
woid good by getting out of the wagon. The
man of the house tair.e striding towardsjhe gate \
saying in an angry tone : "Look here, stranger 1
we don't keep a tavern ; rvl it you're a Irav- i
eler, you must put up with traveler's fare, and
go to the hotel." "Don't be so savage," said J ;
"nave you never heard the saying, 'Be not for- j
' getlul to entertain strangers ; for some have
i
\ thereby entertained angels unawares ?' " "O,
! ho," said he, "that sounds like preaching ; you
j ain't a preacher, are you ?" I intimated that J
! was, and mentioned my name. Eyeing me
! from head to foot, he exclaimed ; "Well, I
jnever! Who would have taken such a poor,
: little, dried-up specimen, as you are, for
phirt!" . ]
At two in the morning, the happy pair were
again seated in their miserable wagon, "with j
! no protection from the driving rain, but a tow
1 knell cover, through which the water dripped
;in showers. YVe had been overtaken by a fu
i r oils equinoctial storm, which begun about rnid
j night, and our plight was pitiable enough.—
: Foe temperature had fallen about forty degrees,
! the night was pitchy dark, only relieved by
| frequent flashes of lightning, most vivid, and
i sometimes appalling, instantly followed by;
J sharp and stunning reports of thunder. But i
; the flashes helped to light our driver on his way
jor would have done so, had they not showed
the u hole prairie aipool of wafer. After a time
we reached a little belt of timber, indicating
our approach to a creek. As we crossed the
bridge, we heard the now swollen torrent rush
ing through a deep ravine, when the broad glare
revealed our posiiion.
i "By .fove !" shouted the driver with glee,
j "weren't that lucky ? a half a minute more,
| and we'd have been alt smashed. I never was
nearer going over a bridge ; half an inch more
| and we'd been over, and thenVait would not ha'
! saved u.s." To the rather timid question of my -
wife as to whether there was any more bad
bridges to cross before day light, he replied : "O
yes, several ; but you mustn't be .skeered ; we
1 must ail die some time, you know !"
V 'nre|v not even the most "muscular Cbris
i 11an" women could be expee'ed to like journeys
of this kind ; and, indeed, however glorious i
may be the state of matrimony for a divine in
Great Britain, we can scarcely think it suited
to peripatetic theologians in the far West.—
We ourselves, however, are all gratitude to Mr.
Miiburn fir having experienced these adven-j
tares- which he has described so well. He has
not only aroused in us a warm personal inter- j
est in himselt,but a sincere respect for that'
hardworking and enthusiastic body of men of
which he is a member. The hardships which
they undergo, however, are endured with their
eyes open, while our unfortunate author scarce
knew whither he rode, he was so blind.
"I therefore set to work to educate my sen
ses, thinking that if an Arab, an Indian, or a
half-savage backwoodsman could bring his
perceptions to such precision, keenness, and
dplicacv, why might not J ? It became a
matter of pride to conceal my defective vision,
to make up for the want of eyesight by the
superior activity of the other faculties. The
foot almost as delicate as the hand, and rhe
cheek welloigh as sensitive to atmospheric im
pression as the ear to accoustic vibrations.—
] By reason of the difficulties which encompassed
| it, traveling became an art, involving in its
| practice many elements of science. If I preser
ved the air and seeming of a man with two
: good eyes, my step had to be as cautious and
| well considered as an Indian's on the war-path,
i and my dislike of being recognized by strangers
; as partially blind, was almost as great as his
\ dread of detection by an enemy. Selfdepen
j dence delights in There was a
i pleasure in scouring strange regions aline ; and
although I have often had my face severely cut
by thorny branches while riding through the
woods, and have been frequently obliged to
hold my right hand in front ol my face, the
elbow extended to the right, and the riding
whip to the left, for hours together, as a protec
tion to the upper part of the person, fatigue and
wounds were alike accepted as a part of the
salutary discipline. Boarding a steamer in the
middle of the river, alter night, by means of a
vawi, aitP l " having descended a steep, siipperv
bank, witn no assistance but from a cane, gav
roe qu *t sa isfaction. To roan about a Strang'
c'.y, and make inys"." master of its sidewalks,
gutters -it;! crossings, and become familiar with
all its localities, thus '-ualifying myself to be a
guide for others, was a favorite pastime There
was hardly a large town of the country in
which I do not know the shortest way between
any two given points. Self-conceit was gratifi
>ed when, on being introduced to people who
-had bean) of me, they exclaimed, 'Why, 1
thought von could not see very well !' Mere
walking was an intellectual exercise, ant) the
mind found constant amusement in solving the
physical problems which were ever demanding
instant settlement ; as, for example, giving the
sound of a footfall, to find the nature and distance
of the object from which it reverberated ; or the
space betwixt yourself and the gutter you are
approaching ; or, amid the Babel of crowded
thoroughfares, to ascertain by your ear when it
will be sate for you to cross, and bow lory a
time the rush of harrying vehrc'.s will allow
yon."
Interesting as all this is, it is pleasant to have
to tell, in conclusion, that those estimable
blessings, "wife, children and friends," have
now rendered the exercise of these singular
faculties no longer necessary to our author.—
He has exchanged them for the kind offices ol
those who love him : and movps about the
street of Montgomery—his now settled home—
with his hand always clasped in that of one or
another of his children, "who are as watchful
and tender towards me," he touchingiy writes,
"as though they were parent and I the child."
—Chambers' Journal.
OILY LETTER FROM Til E OILY
SPRINGS.
As the Oil Springs in Trumbull county, O
hio, are exciting a great deal of interest, we pre
vailed upon a fat contributor to go down there
last week, in order that we may furnish our
readers with an authentic account of the local
ity. We have received the following unctious
letter :
MR. EDITOR :—Everything about here is so
greasy and oily, it is with extreme difficulty I
can write at ail. Mv pen slips out of my fin
gers and there is an oily scum on the ink ; the
paper is fairly transparent and I slosh around
in my chair in a very unpleasant manner. Pa
tience and perseverance (sweet oil is unneces
sary here,) will however, overcome many ob
stacles.
An oilu Truck. —l arrived here a! a very
late hour last night, on an oil tram, and rhisrht
as well have come on tram oil, a we were six
teen hours behind time. All trains are behind
time here,l learn, owing to the accumulation
oil on the track on this end of the road. The
oil fries out of the ground and lubricates the
rails for a great distance. We shouldn't have
arrived here at all if the passengers hadn't got
out and sprinkled the track with their cigar
ashes.
! slipped out of bed (nobody "arises" here ;
we all slip into bed and slip out,) at an early
hour this morning, and began investigations. I
found a section embracing fourteen thousand
acres of land chuck full of oil springs.
How ihe Women fry Qoug'inuts. — Drilling
is unnecessary here, as the oil boils up in
springs, sometimes to the height of twenty-five
feet, and is caught in tin nails as it comes down.
On a hot day, lam told, it is no unusual thing
to see the women frying dough-nuts in these
jets of oil. The balls of dough are dropped in
to the jets, where they are allowed to toss about
like corks in a fountain, until they are iried by
the heat of the sun.
Slippery FAm. —The only species of tree
which abounds here is the slippery elm. These
trees are so slippery that a squirrel can't climb
• tbernVithout d pain:; his paws m Spaiding'sjPre
pared Glue, a small bottle of which he always
j carries about his neck. There are a few n.aple
trees here, but no sugar is made, as nothing but
oil runs out when they are tapped.
A River of Oil. —There is one considerable
sized creek running in Trumbull county, which
is all oil. It was discovered a short time ago
in a singular manner. Three boys went in
I bathing t.nd when they came out, were'so grea
jsy that they couldn't stay in their clothes. As
! fast as thev would slip them on they would slip
1 off again, and one oJ trie lads, in a heedless mo
' ment, narrowly escaped slipping out of his skin.
On reaching home, tueir parents being exceed
| ingly frugal, wrung them out, and extracted a
bout fourteen gallons of pure oil from the three
; boys ! Fact. A company are erecting a large
! candle factory on the banks of the river prepa
j ring to dip candles in it.
i Amusements. —The principal amusements
1 here are climbing greased poles and catching
oiled pigs, the necessary appliances being con
stantly on hand. Sliding down hill is popular
among all classes duringthe summer time. This
j is effected without sleds, on ■ r-iH of s did tallow,
just back of the tavern. As Iv. :<\ laughter
rich and gushing, is wafted to mv window from
a number of the beauties of "Bower's Corners,"
as they sweetly dissolve down the sides of that
melting slope.
Orerrseil Lightning. —There was a thondr
I storm ths afternoon, and as the electric fioii!
no down one of those slippery -Ims I told von
1 of, I was treated to my first view of "greased
lightning." It is quite common here, they sav.
Thunder is divested ol all its harsh lo'entions
by the minute particles of oil which fill the air
auri grease the whole of Jove's noisy chariot.
If any of your readers think I have "cut it
fat," in this letter, let them visit the Oil
Springs and see for themselves.
Yours, truly. FAT CONTKHUTOR.
Sandusky (Ohio) Register,
[£7°""Say, Csesar Augustus, whv are your
legs like an organ-grinder's V "Don't know,
Air. Sugarloat; why is they V '-'Cause thev
carrv a monkey about the streets." A brick
grazed the head of Air. Sugarloaf just as hi 3 ears
disappeared round the corner.
WHOLE I%'OIRER, 2S9S.
VOL. 3. NO. 38.
CAUGHT IN HIS OWN TRAP.
i 1 girl, young and pretty, but above all gif
ted with an air of adorable candor, lately pre
sented herself before a certain Parisian law
ver.
"Monsieur, I came to consult you on a grave
a.Fair, i want to oblige a man I love, to mar
ry me in spite ol himself. How shall I pro
< ceed ?"
The gentleman of the bar had, cf course, a
sufficiently elastic conscience. He reflected a
mom rot, 'j'.-B bung sure that no third person
overhearu him, replied unhesitatingly :
"Mademoiselle, according to our law, you
, always posses the means of forcing a man to
, marry you. You must remain on three occa
• uons alone with him, so that you can go belore
: a judge and swear that he is your lover."
And that will sutlice, Monsieur ?"
; "t pi Mademoiselle, with one further con
j dition."
I "Well V
" i hat you will produce witnesses who will
make an oath to having seen you remain a good
quarter of an hour with the individual said to
j have trifled with your affections."
"very well, Monsieur, I will retain jgu a9
counsel in the management of this affair. Good
i day."
A few days afterwards the young girl re
j turned. She was mysteriously received by the
i lawyer, who, scarcely giving her time to seat
herself, questioned her with the most lively
; lv curiosity.
■ "Well, Mademoiselle, how do matters pros
' per 1"
"Capital !"
"Persevere in your designs, Mademoiselle,
| but mind the next time you come to consult me,
| you must tell me what the name of the young
man is, that we are going to render so happy
, in spite of himself."
"You shall have it without fail, Mon
| sieur."
A fortnight afterwards, thp young person,
, more naive and candid than ever, knocked dis
creetly at the door ol her counsel's room. No
; sooner was she in the room, than she flung her
self into a chair, saying that she had mounted
the stairs too rapidly, and that the emotion
made her breathless. Her counsel endeavored
1 to re-assure her, made her inhale salts and even
proposed to release her garments.
"It -s useless," said she, "I am much bet
j ter."
"Well, Mademoiselle, now tell pi? the name
of the fortunate mortal vou are. going to ex
, r — i> " _ ,
: "Weil, the fortunate mortal, be it known to
you, I=—yourself," said the young beauty, bur
sting into a laugh. "I love vou, I have been
three times fete a tele with you, and mv four
witnesses are below, ready and willing to ac
company me to the magistrate," gravely con
j tinned Ihe narrator.
The lawyer, thus fairly caught, had the good
sense not to set angry. The most singular
(act of all is that he adores hi 3 young wife,
who, by the way, makes an excellent house
i keeper.
I (tr-The • Marriage Bell-s" tintinabulate in
the hymeneal lists of our exchanges in this fash
; ion :
j Married in county, North Carolina,
| by Rev. , Captain Graves, to Miss Nan
| cy Graves.
The graves, 'tis said,
Will yield their dead,
When the last trump shakes the skies ;
3ut if God please,
from graves like these,
A dozen living folks may rise.
I In Erie, Mr. Henry Wiser to Miss Lucretia
j Head.
Wisely did Henry Wiser wed,
In Erie town Lucre!ia Head,
'Tis hoped that he may richly prize her,
For tho' she's lost her Head, she's Wiser.
I A \ irginia paper records the marriage of
: Miss .lan-* Lemon to Mr. Ebenezer Sweet,
whereupon our "devii" moralizes as follows :
How happy th- extremes do meet
In Jane and Ebenezer ;
For she's no longer sour, hut sweet,
And he's a lemon-squeezer.
Here it a brief, but pointed "essavon man
At t.r>, a child ; at twenty, wild ;
At thirty, tame, if e-er :
At forty, wise : at fifty, rich ;
At sixty, good, or never.
Here is an essay on woman :
At ten, a bud ;at twenty, in b'.oom ;
At thirty, married, if ever ;
At forty, mother; at fifty, aunt ;
At sixty, the probability is that the old
lady is something the worse for the wear.
[GP"A good-looking young lady recently en
tered a dyer's shop, and thus accosted him :
, "You are the man that dyes, are you not 1"
"No," replied the gallant, "I'm the man that
j lives ; but I'll die tor you."
np*On a tombstone in a churchyard in Ul
!•. r, Ireland, is the following epitaph :—"Erec
ted to the memory oi J >hn Phillips, accidentally
shut as a mark of affection bv his brother."
[YPAVp visited a school the other day, and
among the many bright and happy scholars we
noiiced one who was, to speak figuratively, "a
perfect brick." "Paul," said the teacher, "was
M rses ever married V "I guess not," answer
ed Paul, "for the Bible don't say anything a
bout Jtfrs. J,loses."
IL7-The great wrong of society is in listen
ing to every idle rumor—every malignant re
port—every vindictive "hear say" which may
have been s-t a going, whether such a rumor
affects the integrity ola man, or the honor ola
1 woman.
03P*She that mat: ies a man because he is a
"good match," must not be surprised if he turns
out a "Lucifer."
Yankee in loabas just taught ducks
to swim in hot water, aod with such success
' that they lay boiled eggs.