Bedford inquirer. (Bedford, Pa.) 1857-1884, January 08, 1858, Image 1
BY DAY lD OYER. t lrUrt |)oftn]. J ■v -J* ®' i. wy -v • tflfi UK!) i'KTril'OYT AND THE WHITE. I BY CHAKt.ES MACK AY. O. the red, the Haunlihg Tha' courts tlie eve ofday. That loves to fl u<; and be admired. And lilitiks from faraway.— j It may delight the roving sight, Antl chann the fancy titer But if it's wearer's half as boi I, I'll jiass, and lei ln-(* he;— With her red, her Haunting petticoat, She's not the girl for Lie! Rut the whhe, the-nodes; petticoat. As pure as drifted snow- That shuns the g-rxe in crowded ways. Where follies come and go; It stirs the primrose on its p th. Or daisy on the lea; And if the wearer's iike the gurh. How beautiful is she | With her white, her modest petticoat, O, she's the girl for nu-! i ■ liIHTTI 811-731; KxperiFitee in Ala pie Sugar Makiu'g. To the Kit it or of the Amtricni Agricultural. As the season i- approaching to commence op , ratlotis in the ••.Sugar Lamp, I will offer a ; lew suggestions and plums gleaned from my ob- . servations and experience. It would seem tha; , . tlie process of making Maple Sugar is so simple i that, any one possessed of the least "gumption," j c-.mld not tail to mate a good, if not a superior . article, but such is not the fact, as the great amount or biucir and almost worthless stuff mutually made, abundantly proves. Ist. In tapping i use a 4 or 1 inch auger > bit; and to ''freshen"' wit it, 1 u>e a follower, j made something lise uti old-fashiooed "pod i auger," to nuke the hole about an eighth of! an inch larger, ami the same deeper, thus j renewing or fn .-heuhrg the of the original hole. The spnttt i tu iie of sheet iton or tit), two inches wide and -ix to seven long, formed into j * quarter circle, one end sharpened with a tile . or grind'tone, nod driven into the bark only, , abont f inch below the anger hole. Drive with a wooden mallet to prevail! battering the . spout. 'lbis Lby far the best and cheapest . •pout that I have ever seen. ti l. For buckets, 1 ro""uitucnd those, made ot tin plate, to hold about Hire-* gallons, made a very little.tapering, so tint iu the case of freezing the ice will sitp out. on the slightest thaw. I'uueh ;i hole in the bucket sufficient to receive the nail that is to be driven in the tree to hang it on, and it nukes— par excellence the best bucket for the purpose extant, i 3d. Boiling is done in sheet .iron or copper pans, (not kettles,) made as follows: Take a sheet of Russia iron, put a (purler or three eighths inch iron rqd in each end by tapping, or betiding the iron around it. Let these rods he 16 to 18 inches longer thup the width of the sheets. Have the ends of the rods flattened and a small hole punched, and Lend them in hueh a manner that they u ty he nailed to the boards, forming the sides of the pan, to servo as handles to lift with. When this is done, bend the sheets up at each end 6 or 8 inches, and fit ia and closely nail side boards about 11 inches thick, to form a box 6 or 8 inches high, and they arc ready for use. Then brick waiis, or an arch as it is commonly called, are built to accommodate as many of the pans as are needed, wt'h two iron ctoss bars under the bottom of each pan to,'prevent their sagging, and straining the nailing too much- Set the f.aus level in mortar, upd you have a boiling apparatus that will evapoiato au amount of sap that will astonish those who "have always boiled in kettles," and do the work much better iban it can possibly be done iu kettles, as there is no danger of burning or boiling over—this being prevented by the wooden sides. With •three such puis, as above described, and good dry wood, one gallon per ifiinute can be evap orated. With the above apparatus, and proper care in keeping everything connected with the "camp clenn. sugar pan be made much superior to the best cane sugar that I have ever seen.— The cost of buckets, with spouts, will be from 40 cents to 50 cents jauh; the p >ns, holding3s gallows, will cost fruyi §'2 50 to $4 each. 11. 11. FLOWABJ). Darke tlounty, 0., Dec. 15 1857. REMARKS. The above apparatus is a very perfect one, and may be adopted in detail in many camps. The only objection will be the expense of., the buckets which will preclude their rise in majority of case*. U'e thank Mr. Howard for his early suggestions, and as maple suga#- making will begin in the mouth of February, we solicit the experience* of sugar makers as -oon as may be—ia time for our next i 3 s;ie.— I'leaso help us to a page or so of good practical information on this topic. There are many in teresting points, such as the best form ayd best wood for troughs, backets; side of tree to be tapped; height from the ground, siz-q form and depth of hole, carrying sap; bailing, clarifying, crysUliting, &e.—tin.— Jhncrican Agri culturist. : CHICKEN MEAT CHEAPER THAN PORK. — To the Editor of (he American Agriculturist. —Everybody loves chicken, roasted, boiled.rri easocd, o,'--broiled. By itself, or in pie, it is pronounoed first-rate by all who ever cat down BMm J®, Mmmx. A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &e., &c —Terms: Que Dollar and Fifty Cents in Advance. ton Thanksgiving dioner cf the olden time.— f If at. chickens always taste of the silver if you ; buy them,aud if you raise them, they are thought j to cost morethan they come to. "Very nice is ( ehit-ken, but the dearest food upon the farm!— Poultrv is uiore plague than profit, and the less I care bestowed upon them the better." This has j not been my experience. 1 iutercede for the i "biddies," and beg for theiu a little of the at- i teutiou that js bestowed upon their more gross ' and less attractive neighbors, the pigs. Give ! them a fair trial, and they will pay any farmer for his care much better than pigs, and will supply his table with gteat luxuries, and at -J j cheaper RAHUFCAND to establish this po,it.on 1 ! will tell you a tale, qui'e as literal someoth- j ers, founded on 'act. In the year 1850 uty ! poultry yard cost me— In stock" §39 96 I *- ( , In food for fowls 39 81 J ' It produced in eggs §34 92 in manure 5 00 it; stock at close 50 00—§89 92 Deduetexpense 79 7, Profit §ls 15 It produced in this time fii fowls, weighing | about 300 pounds,paving ten dollars above what j they cost. In other words, the yard paid for it- : self and three cents a pound premium for all f-lu poultry used in tha family. When did a .porker ever pay you tor the privilege of eating 1 him? Even Charles Limb's roast pig will have ] to knock under to the biddies. In 1(851 the \arJ cost —In stack §54 50 ; lu food 65 56 : Total .. §l2O 06 I It produced 268 dozen eggs, worth §4B 76 0 loads of manure 5 0U : Stock on hand at the close 113 00 , Tufai §166 76 ! Deduct 120 0w ! Profit §46 79 ; It produced 61 f nvjs, weighing about 200 j pounds. In otner words, the poultry paid 23 | : oeuts a pound for the privilege of being eaten, i Was roast pig ever so gracious as thi-? i have ! tried pink growing repeatedly, and have uever ! been able to ryduce the oq*t of production; be low five cents a pound. I shall eat poultry henceforth. ( CONNECTICUT YANKEE, —JO. A CHEAP ICE ROOM, — To the Editor of th> Amrrican Agriculturist. — Having observed several articles iu your paper tespectiog ice- j houses. I scnu yoi: my experience. 1 partition- j cd off the northeast corner of uty wood house, j which opens to the west and is 25 feet wide.— ' The ice room is about 9 feet square : is clap- I boarded on the studs on the north and east,and \ lined on the inside, leaving the 4 inch space between, empty. On the south is n ir.eb board partition just tight enough to hoid saw dust.— (1 i the west, 1 slip in boards, like bars, to any . bight I wish to pile tuy ice, and ieave the up per part open jusc as is convenient. This is ' ! my house. Into it, on tlie ground, 1 put front 6to 10 inches of sawdust then put in my tee, one foot J from the parti: iop ou every side, packing it eioseiv as I can, at.d in as large blocks as 1 can i conveniently handle, i then till the spaces next tlie partitions with sawdust, and a good depth, j (s .7 one foot,) over the top, and it is doge for ! the year. i have practiced in this way two years past, ; and had alt 1 wanted for dairy and other uses, | and to give to my neighbors, and 1 had plenty of good ice left last week. The whole cost of making is about 300 feet hemlock boards, a few n tils, and haU-a-duy's work. Neighbor farmers tiy it. Almost any ' other location is as good a? this. A. P. BE r.c HE it. Tioga County, N. Y., Dec. 18, 1857.— 1b. " J . THE FACILE MR. BUCHANAN. Much has been said and written,concerning the various evolutions which Mr. Buchanan lias made during his political life. It is well known | that he wa once a bitter Federalist, and that ho is now a Democrat; that he for many vears I recognized the coustitutiouality of the Missouti i Compromise, and advocated it us the best and j only measure of settling the slavery question; i that he once reeoguizeJ the power of ,oougress j to legislate upon the question of slavery iu the I Territories, but that he uow deuies all such power and repudiates the Missouri restrictiou |as an illegal assumption of authority. But it would be useless to endeavor to follow him throughout all his various twistings and con tortions—the limited space allotted to us in | our paper would not suffice for their enutucra j tion. Ho ha occupied both sides of nearly every political question that has been brought ' before the people of this country for the last ! forty years. Mr. (Lay's severe sarcasm upon him about his ability to turu any coat to suit ■ the times, was richly deserved. Rut never did he turu so complete a s>mer i set in so short a space of time, as he recently has upon the Kansas question. For many months all of his mouth piec s were coutiuual iy glorifying and blunting hallelujahs over the great doctrine of popular sovereignty, but they uow follow his example of spitting upon what i now sceuis to them to be au absurd and dc i sti'Uoiivp theory. Lit a mouths ago Mr. j Buchaiiau gave assurances to the country that > the people of Kansas should be protected in the right to mould their institutions to suit them selves, ami his iustrppiious toGoVcrilbr Walk er breathed the same, spirit, liut iu his recent message he declares that it wa9 not incumbent upoa the Convention to submit the Consiitu tmn to the vote of Ul9 people of Kansas, but inii.tr tes strongly that Congress shall admit Kansas into the Union with a Constitution to which the people of Kansas arc opposed. Eve rywhere in bis message Jie speaks of the Kau : sas Convention as a legally called aud cousti tutcd bony. It was not cailed by au act of BEDFORD. PA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 8, 1858. Congress, nor did the Kansas-Nebraska bill f grant to the Territorial Legislature the power j ley call a Convention for the purpose of forming a State Constitution. AnJ if Hit Convention vr\\i a legally formed body, as Mr. Buchanan assumes it to have been, the inference is it re sistible that the Legislature of Kansas had the power to pa,ss a law conveuing such a Conven tion. We are not prepared to argue the ques tion as to whether the Constitution had any le gal authority or not; it is merely our purpose to show up-another of Mr Buchanan's tergiv ersations. In 1835 or 183Q, m the debate up on the admission of Mulligan. Mr. Buchanan expressly repudiated the idea that a lerritoriaj Legislature had any power; to call a Conven tion for the purpose of forming a State Consti tution. The following is an extract from his speech: "We ought not to apply the rigid rules of abstract political science too rigorously to such case-; it has been our practice heretofore to treat our lufont Territories with parental care, to nurse them with kindness, and when they had attained the age of manhood, to admit them in'o the family without requiring frogi theui a rigid adherence to forms. The great questions to be decided are: Do they coutain a sufficient population? Have they adopted a republican constitution? Aud are they willing to enter the Union upon the terms which we propose 1 If so all the preliminary proceedings have b*'en considered but mere forms, which we have waived in repeated instances. They are but the scaffolding of the building, which is of uo further use after the edifice is complete.— j We have pursued this course in regard to Ten nessee, to Arkansas, and even to Michigan.— No Senator will pretend that their Territorial i Legislatures had any right whatever to pass laws eua.bliug the paopie to elect delegates to a Convention lor the purpose of forming a State Constitution. It was au act cf usurpaiiou on their part." We commend this paragraph to the support ers of tiie President's policy.,-. It will nut be the last turn he will make before he gets safely through the waves which now .threaten to ett gult himself and party. — Kentucky Common weiiUh. The shadows and (he Sunshine. 'A letter for you. sir." I broke the seal and read with astonish ment— , 'Mr. Kdy.ird Wor thing ton, •Sir—Pardon these intrusive lines, and rest ! assured that they are from one who shall ever i be proud to call himself your sincere friend.— Lucy Ames is not faithful to you! Ido uof i write this to you for any purpose; for since 1 | know so weli your geuersus ar.d noble nature, : I caniru hesitate when I sne that nature bc ; come the innocent dupe of vile dissimulation, i Nor have 1 been too hasty in communicating to | yon this knowledge: I only tear it is too late: but rest assured that ail 1 have said is true, and can be attested by one who has an un doubted personal knowledge of all the facts.— Arthur Wessley, our village schoolmaster, is | your too fortunate rival. Yours, 'A FRIEND.' This was not the first intimation I had had of Lucy's inconstancy, i had seen things with my own eyes that made me doubt her sinceri- ! ty. For a long time the unwelcome suspicion j had been preying upon pic, and this fatal letter had come to bring conviction—stern, irrevosa- j hie, hopeless conviction. 1 did not doubt the truth of it; and yet how it withered my soul with torture to think o r " it, ' to admit it. It did not, it could notoru'h me: 1 braved it to the last—l had been less titan a man to do otherwise. 1 rc-porused the letter calmly—no, not calmly—not indifferently, but sternly, as ihough it were decreed of Fate that I should no orjly drain the bitter cup, but i should swallow,.tt\e very dregs. And yet 1 ioved the wayward girl, and glad ly, oh, how gladly, would 1 have iorgotteu her : imprudence. To her first of all I went to sock an interview, Lucy was proud, too proud to j be just to herself, yet she was generous and ' noble, in spite of her fickleness. Obstinately convinced that she preferred an other to me, I did not ask or expect any expla nations from her, I showed her without any hesitation the letter I had just received, and requested her to return to me such letters as I had previously written to her, uud any other little keepsake which might, in future, only prove annoying to lnr. She bestowed on mo a look I sha.ll never forget. 'Do you beiiuve this, Edward?' '1 do;' I replied, without hesitation. 'What unimpeachable evidence!' she retort ed, with the impulse of pride. 4 1 do not rely on the information contained in that letter. I have seen enough myself, without asking utiy person's advice or opin ion She immediately left the room, and returned in a few moments with a package of letters and a small box of jewels, my former presents, say ing gaily, as the placed them in my hands 'By these tokens, since it is your will, 1 ab solve you.' , In spite of the smile that played upon her mouth,.! thought I could detect traces cf re ceut tears, hastily brushed away from her cheeks. In a moment the thought flashed upon my mind, that she might, after all, be truy. Im pulsively I was about to speak to her, to ask her if it was not so; hut what should T say? 1 had gone too far, and it was too late to retreat, i But us the thought had uouio upon me like u 1 flash, 't vanished us it had come, leaving no al ; ternative but to pursue the course I had adopt -1 ed. ! 'Farewell, then!' 1 said, with apparent in j difference. 'May your future life be eve* lighted by the sunshine of happiness.' 'Thank you! I trust no act of my own may ; ever bring misery on me.' tConscience, Mis? Ames —conscience.' 'Will never reproach tue!' 'God grant it. The step you have taken, ( may, iti your opinion, bo just, but let tue as- I sure you that others do not think so. We do not always see ourselves as others see us.' 'I have done nothing, Mr. Worthington, to merit this—you are not only deceived, bt iaa pertiuent, sit; aud cautiously avoid any ques tions that might lead to an explanation —-—' 'I ask no explanation,' I hurriedly replied; and immediately took my departure iu up very amiable mood, nor did 1 wish to humble myself sufficiently to ask her any question that might, as she had suggested, lead to a satisfactory ex- i planatiou. What.a victory pride had wou!— ; How perfect and complete had been its ulti mate success on both sides! i 1 hurried from the door; I turned ray step : homeward again. lustiuctively I took the usu- ' at course in returbing lo the village, (for Lucy I lived nearly a utile out of towu,) and walked j down the railway track, so busy with my I thoughts as to be utterly unconscious of any-! thing and everytuipg else. There was a high j bridge that lay between tue and the village, j just wide enough for the track, the ytiddle of which was planked over for the convenience of pedes:riaus. Outside the track it was impossi ble to walk. Oue of the plonks was very thick and heavy, I and had been partly raised for some purpose, j and left in that position, lu endeavoring to i pass it, 1 strucjc my foot againft it, stumbled,! arid in recovering myself, forced one leg.thro' ( the aperture, and striking my othtr foot with all the force required to regain uiy equilibri um, replaced the plank in such a manner as . not only left my foot protruding through a uar- | row crack, bat promised to present a difficulty j in removing the plank. I smiled to think how curiously I had been entrapped, and stopped down to remove the plunk -and free myself froru so dangerous a po sition. , The tuk was not so easily performed as 1 had imagined. The plank wis wedged in lin such a manner, that no effort of mine could j remove it. I strove with more than mortal j power, but it was in vain; uor could I extri cate rnv foot, wuieb was lacerated an 1 suiart- I tug with the pain in its close confinement, j At first I dkj not consider the extent ot iny ; peril, but I soon began to perceive the danger jof my situation; and I shuddered with hort or jto think that I should be obliged? to remain j -there, and be crushed fo death by the train! jlt was a cold day ip December, tnd yet the i hoa-led drops burst fcom every pore. A m<>- .t-cut of pbreusied delirium succeeded, and when 1 tallied again, I found tuyself -itting he weeu the rails, my foot still a prisoner, and uo piospeet of delivery, I looked at uiy wutih; it was half past three. At five the down train would pass, or if that should be late, the express would go at half past five; and at half-past four it would uo "dark. I- It was possible, ray probable, that some one i would puss before, it would be too late. This way was nearer the village than tbn road, though always regarded as more danger ous ou account of the narrowness of the bridge, from which there would be no possibility of es- I cape, in case a train should come iu sight while 1 passing over it. Already one man Red been killed bv endeavoring to cross at a time when , the train was due. and should I be the second to perish there? llow the thought tortured me; aud once again 1 tugged at the resisting plank. With aW uiy strength I tried to with draw my foot aud leave the boot, but impossi ble! It was four o'clock—lll half an hour it would be dark —auovlter half hour and death would bo certain' I shouted for aid, but uo habita tion was within half a mile and no answer was returned to my cries. Again and again I shr|eked, while the despairing echoes reverber ated iu the distance, as though they would mock me in inv mis-'rv. . Willi all the accumulated slrer.glh of tnad ness t ,I wrenched tho plank, but could not ! move it from its place. It could not. be possi- j bb that 1 should be obliged to sit there and ! bectushed to death, when buiuan aid was so near. Had I bpeu in some isolated forest, some depth ot country, distant from town or cottage, uiy doom might have been more eertiin. Once j again I shrieked with agonized fury; wildly, , desperately, tie sounds of uiy voice rung out | on the chiiliug air, white nothing but the mock ing echoes made reply. The suu had set, and tho darkness was gath ering fast over the valley below. Already the last reddening glow of sunshine was gleaming on the tops of the trees. My irrevocable des tiny became every moment more and more ap parent. Hark! My God, the train! No! no! I stretched forward and lbteued witli breath less eagerness. There was not a sound to break tho silence: 1 must have bceu deceived. But list! A voice! a voice! Thank God! 'llelp! help! help!' I cried, and each time I shouted the word, I seemed iu despair, uerv cd up to a greater power of speech, and calling louder and louder each timg. Did he -hear?— There was no answet —all was still! Oh, mer ciful Heaven, was this last chance of life de nied uie? 'Hallo!' .1 j The voice was distant, but oh, how my blood ■ leaped witji joy at the sound! j Again i called with all the strength of my lungs, and again I was answered. In a little while a figure appeared advancing toward me, but it was growing already so dark I could not recognize him, uor did 1 care to; but when lie came close to me, one glance showed me it was Arthur Wesley. Should I let him pass by, or ask him to assist tue? Would he do no? As ho approached d•ls this you, Sir. Worthington? Blejs me, are you hurt 1 ' ♦No, thank yqu, I am not much hurt, but seo lam so nicely trapped here, that 1 could not free myself all alone, and I thiuk it is nearly time for the down train to be due.' j It very tast,so dark, in i deed, was it that 1 fouud it impossible to dis- cover what lime it was by nty watch. He nev er hesit-te la mom?ut,caught the detested plank with both hands, and at the same instant I, also, imitated his movements. The accursed thing resisted all our efforts, and remained obsfiuate ly immovable. What should be done? In half an hour the traiu would be due—would there be time to go for assistance—to bring an axe to liberate my foot? He would try. 'For God's sake Mr. Wesley," said 1, as he starteJ to go,' be expeditious. It is tco horrible to be obliged to ait tiere and face death un willingly.. , I was alone again. Tiie winds ; igiied mourn- ! fully about me, but I felt relief.., 1 eveu forgot my danger, and turned my attention once more ! to thoughts with which I had been occupied vvheu I unwittingly stumbled into uiy present dilemma. Nevertheless, I was apprehensive that he j might be delayed until the train should pass, j In fact, [ had no assurance, he had time to go 1 to Mr. Antes' and return before it would be too ! late. Another thought rushed upon my frantic ! btain. Had he deceived 111 c? Would he not 1 be only too luppy to be thus easily rid of my*! unwelcome presence? 1 knew he would uever | come to ute again—he would leave me to the I mercy of such a cruel death. Heavens ! —There is uo mistaking that sound 1 —the wlpstfo at the P Station only five ! miles distant. How well do I remember the thoughts that passed through my mind, as I patiently awaited ; the return of Arthur Wesley; for, .although 1 i had every reasou to believe he would not come ! still I.instinctively awaited him, apd hoped, ah, lu w 1 hoped he would return. Hour after hour had I sat thete all day, aud cow 1 wa still waiting and vibrating between, the hope of delivery and almost .certain conviction of destruction. The fearful chill of despair was creeping over me: uty trembling limbs already anuouticcd that my nerve.- were sinking iu ex haustion. At every moment f kept a watch | for his returning footsteps, but no welcome sound fell on my car. Hark !it is the train ! The low, distant thunder eaunot deceive tue tu>w. It will be here ia a few minutes. 'Help! help " The wailing cry faded away, aud there was no answer- Loader and iou.lpr came the thun der nearer and nearer came the train. The using moon disclosed to tue the white column of smoke and steam, rising above the hill be yond the curve; and uow Die regularly beating puff and cough oftfee engine struck my ear, like ttic gloating chuckle of some terrible mon ster regarding his victim. How like a frenzy the thought came on me that if was uow to late for assistance ! No human being wonld ven ture on the bridge when the foam was within hearing distance, when u was too dark to dis tinguish objects in time to stop the impetuous firehor.se; and yet, furious and frantic at the thought of such a death, I stietched my tremb ling limbs to their utmost, aud shrieked ugaiu and again until I grew hoarse, and the thun dering train drowned tiie effort of my voice.— Aud uow delirium, seized me. 1 futu,a-l some giant fiend held down the plank which I vain ly tried to wrench from its firm position —[ could hear the chuckle of satisfaction that it gave him to think it Lad me there sufelv in its power. . The loud roar th,at now reached tny car an- " nounced that the ttain had -struck live bridge —there came an end to hope—oh, God, uo power on earth could avert the death that star,ed tue in the face? For an instant I saw countless demons hoveriug through the air.— j Fire and smoke enveloped me— there . was a crushing blow, a convulsion, a dim recollection of keen pains shooting through my imprisoned limb, and all was darkness. 1 knew no more When 1 returned again to consciousness 1 was lying on an easy couch in a room dimly | lighted, but neatly and tidily furnished.— j While 1 lay, wondering where 1 was, and try ing to recall what hyd passed, the door was I slowly opened, nnd Lucy Ames entered the j room In a moment she was by uty bedside, watching the motions and the expressions of my I countenance, doubtless imagining that I was , still delirious. ' Lucy—Mi-s Ames !" She started back as 1 uttered the uanie, as though unwilling that 1 should discover her! real thoughts; but, in a moment, recovering j her self-possession, she looked calmly toward ; uie, and asked, with a tone of affected in- i difference. "Do you feci easier now ?' "Indeed, 1 scarce know how 1 feel," / re- , plied, "but there is a pain and soreness iu my bead, and in fact, in all my limbs. / must J bave bceu badly burt." 1 had a dim recollection of the occurrence i narrated; and I surely telf surprise that I should 1 have astaiu awakened to lite. The pain which I felt, on regaining my reason, increased now mo- 1 tuenlariiy. A physician was at hand, aud every I effqrt was made by him,as well as the members j of Mi. Ames family (in whose house I was then ! lying,) in which, alto, Luy and Mr Wesley ! joined to alleviate my sulieriugs. Iu spite of all their attentions, my pain rap idly augmented, and in a short time, I was ngam 1 lost in the unconscious delirium of fever, lu my r vague dreaiuiugs, I was again on the narrow blidge, bending every effoit, and straining ev i cry nerve, to remove the piece of wood that ! bound me there. Agaiu I was chained to a huge rouk, iu which uuconsefous laborers were dril j ling holes, which they filled with powder, to 1 blast the unseemly mass to atoms. I'icnils,shape less aud hideous, flew about tue, chattering in : gloc—demons dauc d ou the sharp edges of tho I rock, ehuckliug agaiu like tho measured pu;l of i an eugiue; and, t inteivals, they stooped to ' bind tho chains closer, until the links festered ! into the very nerve, aud turned my blood to gall with the poison iu which they bad been dippod. Caverns yawned ou every side to re cieve me. Ail at once was beard the loug shrill whistle of the engine and voices that VOL. 81, .NO. 2. seemed the very agony of despair, screamed on every side of me: 'The train! the train." But all this was past. I was well again,and could walk about the house with the aid of a crutch, for 1 had left one foot suspended in the bridge where 1 had so miraculously escaped death Lucy had re-assured me of her love; not indeed by words, but by her actions. Long and patiently had she watched by my side; and to her wore than any other, do I owe the pres ervation of my life. No words had passed be tween us in relation to the subject which had so nearly separated us, yet there seemed to be a tacit acknowledgement of the error on my par£, and a cheerful, forgiveness ou hers. But ouc day, when we chauced to be alone, I re curred to the lolly ot which I had been guilty, aud more formally asked her forgiveness. 'Freely do 1 forgive you, if indeed you have been guilty of any act which would seem to re quire it. \ IJU doubtless acted according to your earnest inclination, which 1 would uot wish to oppose. 1 supposed your object was to secure the band of another, iu leaviug me, and that —* 'Lucy, Lucy! It was uot so—l was mad; I was a lool! 1 believed too rashly, but now! will believe nothing. I will not even credit what I see, but tell me, Lucy, bow it happened that ou one or two occasions, alter excusing yourself from accompanying me to an evening's visit, or party, 1 shoula afterwards meet you returning home at almost midnight, iu company with Mr Wesley?' 'Stili jealous, I sec.' 'No, no!—but * 'Listen, then, aud I will explain all, which 1 might have done sooner had you requested it. 1 was anxious to learn Freuch; and a., this was probably tiie ouly opportunity 1 should ever hive, I bad engaged to take private lessons of Mr. Wesley. I did not thiuk it necessary to teil evei v ijite wLy 1 was so often iu that geuiio luau's eompauy, who I must assure you, is not ouly a very amiable young man, but is engaged to uiy cousin, with whom no inducement could cause him to break his compact." "But why did he delay so long to come to my assistance, when I was about to be uiushed bv the train?"' "He did, indeed, make ali haste in his pow er: hut, in company with uiy brother, arrived a Amine lit toe late, when it would have been mad ness to have gone on the bridge. In the dim light they saw you fall into tue water, which fortunately was deep and rapid, and consequent ly free from ice. They hastened to the bank of the stream, and in a few moments succeeded in rescuing you from this second danger, and bore you >o the Louse." "Friends! thank God! all friends !'" I could not help but utter after listening io Lucy's ex planation of all that had transpired. 1 was hap py again, though maimed for life, a fact which Lucy generously seemed to quite overlook, aa. slie did not hesitate to become Mr 3. Wortuiog ton io less than a month after tyy perfect con valescence, KETLU.VING To IHEIR CONSTITUENTS.— Within the last few davs a number of tlio members of the late Calhoun Convention have passed through St. Louis ou their way to the Southern States, no doubt for the laudable purpose of reporting progress to their con stituents. They do uot hesitate to disavow, peremptorily, any desire of returuiug to Kan sas, 'hat territorial paradise of politicians.— It may he mentioned, also, en passant, that they iuveigb loudly against Senator Douglas, aud say that he was weekly ta communication with the Convention, was advised of eveiything, and, up to the hour of adjournment, led tbeiu to believe that their coarse would meet with his strougest support iu the Senate. Hi* preseut attitude, iherefote, they attribute -to some new revelation in regard to bis own prospects, arid denounce liiiu for acting ia bail faith. If it should ever be necessary foi the Calhoun Couveution to reassemble, (which i God forbid!) its members would have to bs I summoned from >ixteeu States.—. Missouri I Democrat. ; i ii HR.ILLU.VT PROSPECTUS! FOURTH YEAR OF THE Cosniopiliian Ari Association! The tamous Dusseldoyf Gallery of Paintings Purchase! at a cost of £180.000! And Powers' world renowned Statue of the Greek Slave! Re purchased for s'X thousand dollars, with several hundred otiier Work of Art, in Paintings, Sculp -1 lure and Bronzes, comprise the Premiums to be awarded to the subscribers of the Cosmopolitan art association, who subscribe before the 29th of i January. 1858, at which time the awards will tako ; pi ice. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. Every snbsoriber of three dollars ia entitled to a copy of the 1 irge and splendid Steel Engraving, : 'entitled "Manifest Destiny," also to a copy of the Cosmopolitan Art Journal one year, also toa Cer tilkate in the award of premiums, also a f'ee ad , mission to the Du sseklorf aud Cosmopolitan Gal i leries. i Thus it is seen that for every three dollars paid, i the subscriber not only receives a splendid thiee : dollar eng-aviug, but also tue beautiful illustrated two dollar Art Journal, one year. Each subset it" I is also piesentod with a Certifi cate in the awards, by which a valuable work of Art, in Painting or Sculpture, may be received in addition, thus giving to every subscriber an equiva lent to the value of five dollars, and a Certificate gratis. Any one of the leading SS Magazines is furnish ed, instead of the Engraving and Art Journal, if I desired. : ! No person is restricted to a single snare.— . i Those taking five memberships, remitting $ 15, are entitled to an extra Engraving and six tickets. ' Pull particulars of the Association are given in "' tnr Art Journal, which contains over sixty splen ■ i did Engravings, price fifty cents per number.— > ' Specimen eopi.M w II he sent to all person who d ?; sire to subscribe, on receipt of five postage stamps, 115 cents.) Address I C. 1.. L'ERBY, Actuary C. A. A., i | 518 Broadway, New York. Bszin's and I.ubin's Extracts for the Handker chief, Cologne Water, &c., at Dr. Harry'*. Basins Fancv Soap—shaving Cream, just r*. civd f ">ui the city, by Dt. Harry.