The globe. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1856-1877, April 08, 1857, Image 1

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tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac
bottlino to these terms.
pyROCLAINIATION.—Whereas by a
precept to me directed, dated at Huntingdon, the 24th
of January A. D. 1857, under the hands and seals of
the Hon. George Toylor,'President of the Court of Common
Pleas, Oyer and Termiuor, and general jail delivery of the
24th judicial district of Pennsylvania, composed of Hun
tingdon, Blair and Cambria; and the Hons. Benjamin F.
Patton and John Brewster, his associates, Judges of
the county of Huntingdon, justices assigned, appointed to
hear, try and determine all and every indictments made or
taken for or concerning all crimes, which by the laws of
the State are made capital, or felonies of death, and other
offences, crimes and misdemeanors, which have been or
shall hereafter be committed or perpetrated for crimes
*aforesaid—l am commanded to make public proclamation
throughout my whole bailiwick, that a Court of Oyer and
Terminer, of Common Pleas and Quarter Sessions, will be
held at the Court House in the borough of Huntingdon, on
the second Monday (and lath day) of January next, and
those.who will prosecute the said prisoners be then and
there to prosecute them as it shall be just, and that all
Justices of the Peace, Coroner and Constables within said
county be then and there in their proper persons, at 10 o'-
clock, a m., - of said day, with their records, inquisitions,
exanattlations and remembrances, to do those things which
to their offices respectively appertain.
Dated at Huntingdon the lbtli of Mach, in the year of
our Lord one thousand eight hundred and fifty-six, and
the 80th year of American Independence.
Pleas of the county of Huntingdon, bearing test the 24th
day of Jan.. 1857, I am commanded to make Public Proc
lamation throughout my whole bailiwick, that a Court of
Common Pleas will be held at the Court House in the bor
ough of Huntingdon ' on the 3rd Monday (and 19th day) of
January A.D., 1857, for the trial of all issues in said Court
which remain undetermined before the said Judges, when
and where all jurors, witnesses, and suitors, in the trials
of all issues are required.
Dated at Huntingdon the 11th of March, in the year of
our Lord 1856, and the 80th year of American Independ
Strtnurr's ()mot,
Huntingdon, March 18, 1886.1
18.57. Fi RST WEEK.
Robert Wilson Vii Wm. roster's Exrs
Huntingdon county vs Andrew Robison's Exrs
Dumas V 3 ja//le3 PurtCr
Dr. P. Shoenberoes Ex* rs vs A. P. Wilson et al
Stevens for use of Myton vs Smith & Henry
- John Fleming V 3 B. X. Blair et al
Thos Clark's heirs vs Brison t lark
George MeCrum vs Thomas Wilson
Davis Grow's Ado* vs Abednego Stevens
'Michael Quarry vs \Viso S.; Buchanan
Patrick Kelly vs Ponn'a Rail Road Co
Asa Corbin vs JOllll Dougliorty of al
N. C. Docker vs Boat S: Buckingham
Sohn G. Orlady
John Penn Broth
Same - 43 riattle _
John M. Walter . vs David Varner
Union Trans. Co. vs Venn S. Ohio Tiani. Co
Leonard Weaver vs Loin,.': ;:in ile.-
?Arnuel Caldwell vs Michael .1..
John Dougherty vs Taylor. Wil,on & rctrikon
Weiller. Elmo & Ellis vs Olaf:I:At:VI (''tits
George Couch vs The Insaranee Co
Matthew Truman for use vs Robert Dare Powel
Peter Long & wife vs Daniel Iloberla' Adair
Joice & Baugher vs Jarne3 Bricker
Mary E. Trout vs Martin ilen nor of al
Matson Walker vs Andrew Walker
L. & S. Hecthl vs John Jamison
Ettinger & Theeclinan vs Huyett & S,?eds
Bareroft, Beaver & Co vs Joshua it. Cox's Atlra'r
Isaac M. Araton vs Same
March 18, 1857
13 hereby given to all persons interested that the fel
owing named persons have settled their accounts in the
Register's Office at Huntingdon, and that the said accounts
-will he presented for confirmation and allowance, at an Or
phans' Court to he held at Huntington, in and for the
County of Hunting - don, on W ednesday, the 15th day of
April next, to wit
I. John It. Hunter and George P. Wek , field. Executors
of the-last will and testament of John Wakefield,. late of
Rarree township, deceased.
2. Thomas Weston and Martin Weton, Executors of the
last will and testament of Win. Weston, late of Warriors
mark township, deed.
3. Samuel Malay, Executor of the last will, Sc., of Jas.
Romney, Esq., late of Shirlcysbutg dee'd.
4. Benedict Stevens, Executor of tits last will, &c., of
Benedict Stevens, Sr.. late of Springfield township, th,ed.
6. George C. Bucher and Samuel \'ork, Executors of the
last will, Sze., of Joseph Work, late of Porter twp., deed.
6. Abraham Cresswell, Guardian of Anna Mary Borst, a
minor child of Jacob Borst, late of West twp.. deed.
7. Thomas E. Orbisou, Administrator of David Burket,
late of Shirley township. decd.
8. Peter Swoops, Trustee appointed by the Orphans'
Court, to make sale of the real estate of Peter Swoops, Sr.,
late of the borough of Huntingdon, dcc'd.
P. George Hallman. Trustee appointed by the Orphans'
Court to make sale of the real estate of George Henderson,
late of West township. dcc'd.
10. Peter Stryker, Administrator of the estate of John
Stryker, late of West township. deed.
' 11. Samuel T. Brown. Esq., Administrator de bolds men,
of the estate of Win. Buchanan, late of Brady township,
. - -
12. John Wareham Mattern and Susan Mattern, (now
Ewan Wills.) Administrators of the estate of Jacob S. Mat
torn, late of Franklin township, deceased.
13. Dr. John McCulloch. Administrator of the estate of
Alex. McKibben, late of the borough of Huntingdon ' deed.
14. John B. Given, Executor of the last will, &c., of John
Shultz, late of Hopewell two., deed.
- HENRY GLAZIER, Register.
. REGISTER'S 01710 E,
Enntingdon, March IS, 1557.
Court of Quarter Sessions to be held at Huntingdon
in and for the county of Huntingdon, the second Monday
inad"l3th day of Api•il, LSS7.
Brice Blair, farmers Dublin.
Michael Baker, carpenter, Porter. _
Alexander S. Briggs, farmer, Tell.
Philip Crouse. tailor, Cassville.
James 13. Carothers", farmer, Morris.
John M. Cunningham, carpenter, Huntingdon.
William L. Couch, farmer, Barren.
David Enyeart, farmer, Walker.
• John Foster, farmer, Shirley.
John Grafßus, firmer, Warriorsmart.
Jacob Hoover, farmer, Penn.
• Robert F. Ilaslett. innkeeper,- Morris.
Geo. W. Hazard, farmer, - Union.
Robert Johnston, farmer, Jackson.
John Leo, miller, Walker. .
Thomas Osborn, farmer, Jackson.
Tatum Oatenkirk, farmer, Brady.
John F. Parsons, farmer, Tell.
Livingston Robb, farmer, Walker.
Wm. :Stapleton, farmer, Tod. ,
- David Swoope, Jr., carpenter. Cla7.
Andrew'Smith, farmer, Union.
William Walker, carpenter, Porter.
;Elias B. Wilson, J. P., Cassville.
tit AVE= .71:11:ORS-FIRST WEER.
'William Africa, shoemaker, Huntingdon,
Alexander Appleby, ftirmor, Dublin.
Samuel Bowman, farmer, Shirley.
Jacob Brumbaugh„farmer, Penn.
John C. Bolinger, farmer, Cromwell.
Richard Cunningham, farmer, Jackson.
Isaac. Curfman, farmer, Tod.
'Joseph Cornelius, farmer, Cromwell. -rt-
Jacob H. Dell, farmer, Cass.
• John Duffey, mason, Springfield. -
Gideon Elias. surveyor, Tod. -
Idartin Eleanor, wagonmaker, Walker. ,
Robert Floating. farmer: Jackson.
..7joriathan Frazier. tanner. Jackson.
- Michael Flesher, farmer, Jackson.
Janie's Goodman, carpenter, Huntingdon. •
Hiram Grady; farmer, Henderson.
. - Austin Green, mechanic, Cassvillo. -
John Griffith, farmer, Tod.,
fanner, Porter. •
- Thomas Hamer, jr., farmer, West. ,
Samuel Harvey, farmer, Shirley. ' ' '
Solomon Houck, farmer, Tod.
- Daniel Knode, farmer, Porter. -
Charles 14: Millen-tanner, Huntingdon.
Abraham McCoy, brickmaker, Huntingdon. -
• William Morgan. farmer, Shirley.
• • William C. McCauley. tanner, Brady,
Asa:Price, farmer,: Cromwell.
John - S. Pheasant, farmer, Union.
• .- Charles Blinehart; farmer, Clay:: ;
John Shaffer, farmer, Morris. •
pklhy 811 knitter, farmer, Barre?. • • -
. 75
Tal(ia.l)lo's Ears
'vs John Eavago
Sni 3
F. CA7,IPEZ.L'L, Prot'y
Peter Shaver of Samuel, clerk, Shirley.
Peter Shaffer, farmer, Morris.
David Snare, P., Huntingdon. •
Jacob Snyder, tailor, Huntingdon.
Simes, clerk, Franklin.
Thomas Weston, Esti:, J. P., Warriorsmark.
Thomas Wilson, J. P., Barna.
F. B. Wallace, blacksmith, Huntingdon.
Armstrong Willoughby, tailor, Huntingdon,
Leonard Weaver, farmer, Hopewell.
Thomas Whittaker, iiirmer, Porter.
Jacob Walters, farmer, Franklin.
Samuel Wall, merchant, Penn.-
John Kinch, blacksmith, Franklin.
John Rung, gentleman, West.
James Bell, Esq., farmer, Warriorsmark
William Cramer, farmer, Tell.
James Cree, farmer, Dublin.
Hugh Cunningham, farmer, Porter.
David Colcstuck, fanner, Huntingdon.
John Duff, flintier, Jackson.
Thomas Duffey, farmer, Springfield.
John Eberly, farmer, West.
:Martin Fleming : farmer, Brady.
David H. Foster, merchant, Hopewell
John Gaghagan, carpenter, Porter.
Joshua Green, farmer, Barre°.
John Grafts, laborer, West.
Caleb Greenland, farmer, Cass.
Ceorge Hight, farmer, Tod.
John lewd, farmer, West. •
Jacob H. Knode, farmer, West.
Hugh King, farmer, Shirley.
James Kerr, farmer, Brady.
John P. Murphy, shoemaker, West.
George Myerly, farmer. Springfield.
Franklin B. Neely, farmer, Dublin.
John A. Nash, printer, Huntingdon.
Henry F. Newingham, gentleman, Huntingdon
Christian Peightal, tailor. Barree.
Jacob Spanogle, farmer, Shirley.
John Simpson, farmer, Huntingdon.
Henry W. Swoope, farmer, Porter.
Samuel Smith, farmer, Union.
, Valentine Sinittle, farmer, Tell.
James Stevens, farmer, Clay.
William P. Taylor, carpenter, Clay.
John Weston. farmer, Union.
John Whittaker, gentleman, Huntingdon.
Richard Wills, cabinet-maker, Warriorsmark.
Michael Ware, farmer, West.
Huntingdon, March IS, 15:37.
spectfully announces to her numerous pations and
trienus that she will continue, as heretofore, to give lessons
on the Piano, Melodeon and Guitar, at her residence in the
old Presbyterian Church, or at the residence of pupils in
iihe is in monthly receipt of all the new music published
at the first musical houses in the country, and will furnish
pupils and others with any piece required.
bile will also teach the German and French languages.
Numerous references given.
Huntingdon, February 4, 1F:17.
—A WHoLli; LIBRARY IN 1m:1:1,F !—COST $ll,OOO-70
MA 1 3 5-700 nisTorY OF ALL NA
From the earliest period to the present time, the history
of every nation, ancient and modern. being separately
given. By S. G. Goornuun, author of several works of His
tory, 'Peter Parley's Tales,' &c.
It is believed that the above work will be very accepta
ble to the American public. It is the result of years of
toil and labor, assisted in his researches by several scholars
of known ability, and has been gut up at a great expense
by the proprietors. pains have been spared in the ex
ecution of tbe Illustrations and Maps, which are prepared
expressly for tins work. Indeed, all the other historical
writing of Mr. Goodrich, sink into insignificance, when
compared to this, the result of his riper and maturer years.
It is admitted that one liandred dollars could not purchase
the sane, matter in any other shape, and the publishers
confidently expect, in .ctinsideration of the great literary
value of the work, the large sum expended in preparing
it for the prees, and the exceedingly moderate price at
which it is offered, that it will be favorably received by
every lover of good books. Many of our first scholars, di
vine, and gentlemen. who have examined the work, have
given it their unqualified approbation and commendation,
which it richly deserves.
In one volume, Turkey Morocco, Marble Edge, Gilt
Buck and Sides $O,OO
In one volume, Turk•'y Morocco, Marble Edge, Full
Gilt 'S,OO
In two volumes, Turkey Morocco, Marble Edge 7,00
In two volumes, Turkey Morocco, Gilt Edge and Full
Gilt Sides 10,00
In two volumes, Full, Heavy Stamped Cloth, Sprink-
led Edge 6.00
Many of oar Agents having been told when soliciting
subscribers, that this work would soon be sold in /look
stores, and at a reduced price. we hereby give notice, as
Publishers of it. it will not be sold in Bookstores at
any price, and will be offered by our canvas , ,ing Agents
only, who have the sole right of sale in their• respective
districts, except that where we have not appointed an
agent, WE will send copies by mail, postage pre-paid, to
any part of the United States, upon receipt of the retail
pi ice.
N. 13.—The one volume copies, weighing over four pounds,
cannot be sent through the mail, but the two volume copies
can be mailed as too books.
Miller, Orton S.: Mulligan, Publishers. No. 9.5, Park Row,
N. Y. For sale by GEO. BERGSTRESSER, -
Nam. Claim; Hunt. Co., Pa.
Also, Agent for Dr. liane's works.
Feb. 11, 1857.
ACARD.—To Teachers and all whom it
may Concern: The undersigned are making prep
arations to open a Normal School in Huntingdon County ;
and we design making it a permanent Institution. The
Instructors will be persons who have been educated in
Normal schools, and who are known to be eminent in their
profession—in the didactic art. Our advertisement will
appear as soon as our correspondence with the Faculty can
be completed. We desire to open in April.
Huntingdon, Feb. 11, 1857. F. 11. LANE.
subscriber will sell the HOUSE and THREE
LOT OF GROUND he now occupies in the North East cor
ner of the borough of Huntingdon. The house is a two
story frame, nearly new. For further information enquire
of A. J. WHITE.
Febrnary 11, 1857.
OF 1857..
SILK ROBES, Flounced,
BLACK SILKS, extra' gloss,
SHAWLS, of the newest-Fashions.
Staple Linen Goods, Blankets, Quilts, Damask Table Cloths,
Napkins, &c. •
Gentlemen's Wear and full stocker , Goods for Boys' Cloth
ing. .
Bargains, daily received from New York 'and Philadelphia
Wholesale buyers aro invited to give us an early call.
- 4th and Arch streets, Philadelphia.
Terms Nett Cash, and prices lour..
March 4,1817-3 m.
RER. Sole Proprietor of..7OM4soN's highly approved and
much improved SMUT AND - mu:ENING MACHINE:
Ragtime: NO. 64 QUEEN Street. (ISth Ward,) address
Kensington Post Oilice.
Shop: lIAYDOCK Street, below Front. Philadelphia. •
Cocalico Mill Stones, Mill Irons, Smutt Machines, Patent
- Mill Bush, Portable Mills, Stretched Belting. Cement
• and Screen Wire,
Philadelphia; Feb. 25,11457.
- .
Letters of Adminihtrationlave been granted to me
upon the Estate of Samuel Thompson, late of Shirley tWp. 3
deed. All persons indebted are requested to make pay
ment and those having claims to present them to me.
Petersburg, Feb-20, 1857.* _ Administrator.
RY, at Academia, Juniata county, Pa.
e. tithkintages• and
-attractions of this Institution are
such as pertain tea thorough and comprehensive system'
of education, combining artistic, literary, scientific, hygi
enic and moral culture—and a location in a very healthful
region, away,from towns and villages and in the midst - of
charming scenery. Expenses, $l2O per annum ; including
music : $l5O. The summer session will commence 3lay sth.-
- - E. HINDS, Principal:
March 32,18&1.4t
eZ exVatttg.
Wandering on the shores of mem'ry,
Gathering up the fragments, cast
By the surging waves of feeling,
Prom the ocean of the past.
Hero a shell and there a. pebble,
With its edges worn away
By the rolling of the waters—
By the dashing of the spray.
Some lie smooth, and many-tinted,
High upon the glist'ning sand;
Others, sharp and freshly scattered,
Wound when taken in the band.
Hero are wrecks of by-gone treasures,
Garnered in our early years ;
Gathered now in hidden caverns,
Crusted with the salt of tears.
Every hope and every sorrow
That the world has ever known,
'Vessels launched in youth's bright hour
On this shadowy beach are thrown.
Here are pleasure-boats that glided
O'er smooth waters for awhile;
There rich argosites of feeling,
Freighted with a kiss or smile.
Joy that vanished ere 'twas tasted
Is but sea-weed, wet with spray;
Eagerly we seek to grasp it—
Lo I its beauties fade away ;
Floating in the distant future,
It was dipped with rainbow dyes ;
But upon the sands of mem'ry
Now in tangled masses lies.
Here aro wrecks of early friendships,
Living only in the past;
Vessels which Were far too fragile
To withstand misfortune's blast.
By them nobler barks are lying—
Barks that weathered every gale,
Till on death their life-boats shattered,
They were never known to fail.
Round about remnants lying
Of the cargoes which they bore,
And on each these words are graven
"Friend, we've only gone before."
Oh, it gives both pain and pleasure
To reflect that when we die,
Shattered on the sands of mem'ry,
We in other hearts will lie.
There was a day when an old man with
white hair sat idone in a small chamber of a
national mansion, his spare but muscular
figure resting on an arm-chair, his hands
clasped, and his deep blue eyes gazing thro'
the winter sky. The brow of the old man
furrowed with wrinkles, his hair rising in
straight masses, white as the driven snow,
his sunken checks traversed by marked lines,
and thin lips, fixedly compressed, all announ
ced a long and stormy life. All the marks
of an iron will were written upon his face.
His name I need not tell you was Andrew
Jackson, and he sat alone in the White House.
Avisitor entered without being announced;
and. stood before the President in the form of
a boy of nineteen, clad in a coarse round
jacket and trousers, and covered from head
to foot with mud. As he stood before the
President, cap in hand, the dark hair falling
in damp clusters about his white forehead,
the old man could not help surveying at a
rapid glance, the muscular beauty of his
figure, the broad chest, the sinewy arms, the
head placed proudly on the firm shoulders.
"Your business ?" said the old man, in his
short, abrupt way.
".There is a Lieutenancy vacant in the
Dragoons. Will you give it to me"'
And dashing back the dark hair which fell
over his face, the boy, as if frightened at his
boldness, bowed low before the President.-
The old man could not restrain that smile.
It wreathed his firm lip, and shone from his
clear eyes.
" You enter my chamber unannounced,
covered from head to foot with mud—you tell
me that a lieutenancy is vacant, and ask me
to give it to you. Who are you ?"
" Charles May !" The boy - did not bow
this time, but with his right hand on' his hip,
stood like a wild young Indian, erect, in. the
presence of the President.
" What claim have you to a commission ?"
Again the Hero surveyed him; again he faint
ly smiled.
" Such as you see!" exclaimed the boy, as
his dark eyes shone with that dare-devil light,
while his form swelled in every muscle, as
with the conscious pride of his manly strength
and beauty. " "Would you—" he bent for
ward, sweeping aside his curls once mee,
while a smile began to break over his lips—
" Would you like to see me ride ? My horse
is at the door. • You see I came post haste
for this commission!"
Silently the old man followed the boy, and
together they went forth from the White
House. It was a clear cold Winter's day ;
the wind tossed the President's white hairs,
and the leafless trees stood boldly•out against
the blue sky. Before the portals of the White
House, with the rein thrown loosely on his
neck, stood a magnificent horse, his dark hide
smoking foam. t ''He uttered a shrill neigh as
his boy-master sprang with a bound into the
saddle, and in a flash was gone, skimming
like a swallow down the road, his mane and
tail streaming in the breeze.
The old man looked after them, the horse
and'his rider, and knew not -which to admire
most, the athletic beauty of the boy, or the
tempestuous vigor of the horse.
Thrice they threaded the avenues in front
of the White House, and at last stood pant
ing before the President, the boy leaned over
the neck of his steed, as he coolly exclaimed
—"Well—how do you like me ?"
"Do you think you could kill an Indian?"
the President said, taking him by the hand;
as he leaped from his horse.
"Aye—and eat him afterward?" cried the
boy, ringing out his fierce laugh as he _read
his fate in the old man's -oyes,
" You had better come in and get your
commission," and the hero of New Orleans
led the way into the White House.
There came a night, when an old man—
President no longer—sat in the silent cham
ber of his Hermitage Home, a picture of age
trembling on the verge of Eternity. The
light that stood upon his table revealed his
shrunken form resting against the pillows
which cushioned his arm-chair and the death
like Tailor of his venerable face. In that
face, with its white hair, and massive fore
head;Verything seemed already dead, except
the -. :eyes. Their deep gray-blue shone with
the fire of New Orleans, as the old man with
his long, white fingers, grasped a letter post
marked "Washington."
" They ask me to designate the man who
shall lead- our army, in case the annexation
of Texas brings on a war with Mexico"—his
voice, deep-toned and thrilling, even in that
hour of decrepitude and decay, rung through
the silence of the chamber. "'There is only
one man who can do it, and his name is Zach
ary Taylor."
It was a dark hour when this boy and this
General, both appointed at the suggestion or
by the voice of, the Man of the Hermitage,
met in the Battle of Resaca de la Palma.
By' the blaze of cannon, and beneath the
canopy of battle smoke, we will behold the
" Capt. May, you must take that battery!"
As the old man, uttered these words he
pointed far across:the ravine with his sword.
It was like the glare of a volcano—the steady
blaze of that battery, pouring from the dark
ness of the chapparal.
Before him, summoned from the rear by
his commander, rose the form of a splendid
soldier, whose hair, waving in long. masses,
swept his broad shoulders, while his beard
fell over his muscular chest. Hair and beard
as dark as midnight, framed a determined
face, surmounted by a small cap, glittering
with a single - golden tassel. The young war
rior bestrode a magnificent charger, broad in
the chest, small in thehead, delicate in each
slender limb, and with the nostrils quivering
as though they shot forth jets of name.—
That steed was black as death.
Without ti fiord, the soldier turned to his
Eighty-four forms, with throats and breasts
bare, eighty-four battle horses, eighty-four
sabres, that rose in the clutch of naked arms,
and flashed their lightning over eighty-four
faces, knit in every feature with battle fire.
"Men, follow!" shouted the young com
mander, who had been created a soldier by
the band of Jackson, as his tall form rose in
the stirrups, and the battle breeze played
with his long black hair.
There was no - response in words, but von
should have seen those horses quiver beneath
the spur, and spring and launch away. Down
upon the sod with one terrible beat came the
sound of their hoofs, while through the air
rose in glittering circle those battle scimitars.
Four yards in front rode May, himself and
his horse the object of a thousand eyes, so
certain was the death that loomed before him.
Proudly in his warrior beauty he rode that
steed, his hair floating from beneath his cap
in raven curls upon the wind.
He turns his head—his men see his face
with stern lip and knit brow; they feel the
fire of his eyes, they hear—not " Men, for
ward !" but "Men, follow!" and away, like
an immense battle engine composed of eighty
four men and horses, woven together by swords
—away and on they dash,
They near the ravine; old Taylor follows
them with hushed breath, aye, clutching his
sword hilt he sees the golden tassel of May,
gleaming in the cannon flash.
They are on the verge of the ravine. May
still in front, his charger flinging the earth
from beneath him, with colossal leaps, when,
from among the cannon, starts up a half-clad
figure, red with blood. and begrimmed with
It is Ridgely, who, to-day, has sworn to
wear the mantle of Ringgold, and to wear it
well ! At once his eyes catch the light now
blazing in the eyes of May, and springing to
the cannon, he shouts—
" One moment, my comrade, and I will
draw their fire!"
The word is not passed from his lips when
his cannon speak out to the battery across
the ravine. His flash, his smoke have not
gone, but hark! Did you hear that storm of
copper balls clatter against his cannon, did
you see it dic , the earth beneath the hoofs of
May's squadron. -
"lien, follow!" Did you see that face
oieaminr , with battle fire, that scimitar cut
tiny its glittering circle in the air? Those
men can hold their shouts no longer. Rend
ing the air with cries. Hark I The whole
army echo them. They strike their spurs,
and, worried into madness, their horses whirl
on and thunder away-to the deadly ravine.
The old man, Taylor, said, after the battle,
that he never felt his heart beat as it did
For it was a glorious sight to see that young,
man, May, at the head of his squadron, dash
ing across the ravine, four yards in advance
of his foremost man, while long and dark be
hind him was stretched the solid line of war
riors and their steeds.
Through the windows of the clouds some
gleams of sunlight fall—they light the gold
en tassel on the cap—they . glitter on the up
raised sword—they illumine the dark horse
and his rider with their warns glow—they re
vealed the battery—you see it, above the fur
ther bank of the ravine, frowning death from
every muzzle.
Nearer and nearer, up and on! Never
heed the death before you, though it is terri
ble. Never mind the leap, though it is terri
ble. But up the bank and over the cannon
—hurrah At this dread moment, just as
his horse rises for the charge—May turns and
sees the sword of the brave Ingo on his right,
turns again and reads his own soul written
in the fire of Sacket's eye.
To his men once more he turns, his hair
floating back behind ' him, he points to the
cannon, to the steep bank and - the certain
death, and as though inviting them, one and
all, to his bridal feast, he says—
" Comp!"
They did come. It would have made your
blood dance to see it. As one man they whirl
ed up the bank, following May's sword as
they wolild a banner, and striking madly
home, aeihey heard, through the roar of bat
tle they heard it, that word of' frenzy, "Come!"
As one mass of bared chests, leaping hor
ses and dazzling scimetars, they charged
upon the bank; the cannon's fire rushed into
their faces; Inge, even as his shout rang on
the air, was laid a mangled thing beneath
his steed, his throat torn open by a cannon
shot, Sacket was buried beneath his horse,
and seven dragoons fell at the battery's muz
zles, their blood and brains whirling into
their comrades' eyes.
Still May is yonder, above the cloud, his
horse rioting over heaps of dead, as with his
sabre, circling round his flowing hair, he cuts
his way through the living wall, and says to
his comrades, "Come!"
All around him, friend and foe, their swords
locked together—yonder the blaze of musket
ry showering the iron hail upon his band—
beneath his horse's feet the deadly cannon
and ghastly corse, still 'that young soldier
riots on, for Taylor has said, Silence that
Battery," and he will do it.
The Mexicans are• driven from their guns;
their cannon are silenced, and May's heroic
band, scattering among the mazes of the
Chaparal, are entangled in a wall of bayo
nets. Once more the combat deepens, and
dies the sod in blood. Hedged in by that
wall of wood, May gathers eight of his men,
and hews his way toward the captured bat
tery. As his charger rears, his sword circles
above his head and sinks blow after blow into
the foemen's throats. To the left a shout is
heard ; the Americans, led on by Graham and
Pleasanton and Winship, have silenced the
battery there, while the whole fury of the
Mexican army seems concentrated to crush
May and his band.
As he went through their locked ranks so
he comes back. Everywhere his men know
him by his hair, waving in dark masses; his
golden tinseled cap; his sword—they know it
too, and wherever it falls hear the gurgling
groan of mortal agony.
Back to the captured cannon be cuts his
way, and on the brink of the ravine beholds
a sight that fires his blood.
A solitary Mexican stands there, re:aching
forth his arm in all the frenzy of a brave
man's despair ; he entreats his countrymen
to turn, to man the battery once more, and
hurl its fury on the foe. They shrink back
appalled before-that dark horse and its rider,
May 1 The Mexican, a gallant young man,
whose handsome features can scarcely be dis
tinguished on account of the blood which
covers them, while his rent uniform bears
testimony to his deeds in that day's carnage,
clenches his hands, as he flings his curse in
the face of his flying countrymen, and then,
li g hted match in hand, springs to the cannon.
Amoment and its fire will scatter ten Amer
ican soldiers in the dust.
Even as the brave Mexican bends near the
cannon, the dark charger, with cne tremen
dous leap, is there, and the sword of May is
circling over his head.
" yield 1" shouted the voice which only a
few moments ago, when rushing to the death,
said—" Come 1"
The Mexican beheld the gallant form be
fore him, and handed Captain May his sword.
" General La Vega is a prisoner," he said,
and stood with folded arms amid the corses
of his mangled soldiers.
You see May delivered his prisoner into
the charge of the brave Lieutenant Stephens,
who—when Inge fell—dashed bravely on.
Then would you look for May once more—
gaze through that Wall of bayonets, beneath
that gloomy cloud, and behold him crashing
into the whirlpool of the fight, his long hair,
his sweeping beard, and sword that never for
an instant stays its lightning career, making
him look like the embodied demon of this
battle day.
In the rear of the, battle behold this pic
ture ; where May dashed like a thunderbolt
from his side, Gen. 'Taylor, in his familiar
brown coat, still remains. Near him, gazing
on the battle with interest keen as his own,
the stout form, the stern visage of his brother
soldier, Twiggs. They have followed with
flashing eyes the course of May, they have
seen him charge, and seen his men and hor
ses hurled back in their blood, while still he
thundered on. At this moment the 'brave
La Vega is led into the presence of Taylor,
his arms folded over his breast, his eyes fixed
upon the ground.
As the noble-hearted General expresses his
sorrow that the captive's lot has fallen on one
so brave, as in obedience to the command of
Twiggs, the soldiers, arranged in battle or
der, salute the prisoner with presented arms,
there comes rushing to the scene the form of
May, mounted on his well-known charger.
" General, you have told me to silence that
battery. have done it."
lie placed in the hands of Zachary Taylor,
the sword of the brave La Vega.'
writer in one of our large cities, gives a note
of warning which many, in the present ex
citement and rush of our country ; wo=rld do
well to heed. "In one of our lunatic asy
lums," he says, "there are now several gen
tlemen, all of whom were, one year ago, in
full health and active business, and in each
of these cases mental aberration is traceable
directly to overworking the brain. They are
men of wealth and social eminence, and, un
til their sad affliction, were distinguished for
usefulness in the church and the community.
But to these, we must add, perhaps, thous
ands of cases, in which premature old age,
or permanent ill-health, and mental imbecil
ity, have arisen from similar causes. Par
alysis, apoplexy, softening of the brain, and
spinal affections, are kindred diseases, and
striking down our scholars, jurists, physi
cians and professors with fearful frequency.
In our great cities, business is pushed to the
highest point of human endurance.
neir "Lot us remove temptation from the
path of youth," as the frog said, as he plunged
into the water, when he saw a boy pick tip a
Editor and Proprietor.
NO. 42.
"I Mttst Go."
A common word, yet how full of meaning
"The school-bell is ringing," says the inno
cent little prattler, at play ; "I must go."
"The hour of labor has come," says the man
of toil, "and I must go." "A dying parish
oiler has sent for me," says the clergyman;
"and I must go." "Another weary, cheer
less, thankless day calls me to the sanctum,"
says the editor, "and I must go." "I have
a weighty case on hand to-day, demanding
all my time and attention," says the lawyer,
"and I must go !" and the universal motto
of the age is echoed on every side, by old
and young, high and low, rich and poor,
happy and miserable.
All must go, all are going, and yet the
restless, heaving, surging tide of humanity
is never gone.'We might; perhaps:, intro
duce this expressive phrase into scenes of
r reater length, and. of more than ordinary
interest; but having other thoughts and other
duties to look after, we; too, "must go," and
be content to sketch one or two.
"'Tis getting late;" says the lover -to the
loved. one; "and I must go; must bid fare-:
well, for a time, to those charmed, blissful
hours, once more to mingle in the cares and
perplexities of a busy world." Then clasp
ing her fondly to his bosom, and passionate
ly pressing those sweet lips to his own, he is
o•one till those happy days may return; or
perchance till he may lead the gentle charm
er of his life a willing captive to the hyme
nea,l altar.
One short year rolls round and how chang
ed the scene ! Again, as then, it is night.—
A wan, pale being, of - emaciated and fragile
form, is lying on her dying couch. The
long weary days and weary nights have
passed away. Her hours of anguish are no
more. The insidious destroyer has done its
work. Friends near and dear are around
her—a tender husband bends over her—but
these cannot arrest the band of disease, or
postpone the parting hour. "Hark! the an
gels are whispering "come!" and I must go;
countless shining (nibs in white are waiting
for me. I must gn ! Farewell till we meet
in heaven 1" The snowy hand falls lifeless,
nerveless by her side.; a smile of ineffable
sweetness and beauty rests on those pallid,
marble features, and she is gone—gone for
Gentle reader, like her when the last of
earth shall come, may you hear the welcom
ing of whispering angels—like her, respond ;
"I MusT Go!"
BESUTIFUL EXTELACT.—The following waif,
afloat on the "sea of reading," we clip from
an exchange. We do not know its paterni
ty, but it contains some whblesome truths
beautifully set forth: "Men seldom think of
the great event of death until the shadow
falls across their own path, hiding forever
from their eyes the traces of the loved ones
whose living smile iv is the sunlight of their
existence. Death is the great antagonist of
life, and the cold thought of the tomb is the
skeleton of all feasts. We do not want to go
through the dark valley, although its passage
may lead to paradise, and, with Charles
Lamb; we do not want to lie down in the
muddy grave, even with kings and princes
for our bed-fellows. But the fiat of Nature
is inexorable. There is no appeal of relief
from the great law which dooms us to dust.
We flourish and we fade as the leaves of the
forest, and that flower that blossoms and
withers in a day has not a frailer hold upon
life than the mightiest monarch that ever
shook the earth with his footstep. Genera
tions of men appear and vanish as the grass,
and the countless multitude that throngs the
world to-day, will to-morrow disappear as
the footsteps on the shore.
THE PARTING llouu.—The hour is coming
and it is a fearful and solemn hour, even to
the wisest and to the best—the hour is com
ing when we must bid adieu to the scenes
which please us, to the families we love, to
the friends we esteem. Whether we think,
or whether we think not, this body, which is
now warm and active in life, shall be cold
and motionless in death. The countenance
will be pale, the eye must be closed, the voice
must be silenced, the senses must be destroy
ed, the whole appearance must be changed
by the remorseless hand of our last enemy.
We may banish the remembrance of the
weakness of our human nature; but our re
luctance to reflect on it, and our attempts to
drive it from our recollection arc in vain.—
We know that we are sentenced to die ; and
though we sometimes succeed in casting off
for a season the conviction of this unwel
come truth, we can never entirely remove
The reflection haunts us still; it haunts us in
solitude, it follows us in society, it lies down
with us at night, it awakens with us in the
morning. Irrevocable doom has passed upon
us, and too well do we know it—" Dust thou
art, and unto dust thou shalt return."
Trirs'Gs LIKi xo SEE.-4 like to see fifl•
teen or twenty young men parade themsdlvds
in front of the meeting-house on the Sab
bath, and stare at the ladies as they pass ; it
Shows they are fond of making observations.
I like to see young ladies laugh and play
at religions meetings ; it shows they possess
fine feelings and take an interest in serious
I like to see young ladies walk out late at
night; it shows they are not afraid.
I like to see ladies place themselves at a
door or WindoW to Make witty remails on
people as they Pass; it shows they are always
minding their own business.
I like to hear .young ladies slander each
other; it is a sign their characters stand
LOOK OUT.—When a stranger offers to sell
you an article for half its Value; look oat.
When a note becomes due, and you don't
happen to have the necessary funds to meet
it, look out.
When a young lady has "turned the first
corner," and sees no connubial prospect
ahead, it is natural she should look out.
When you find a man doing more business
than you are, and you want to know the rea
son, look at the advertisement he has in the
newspaper and look out.
Look out for rain when the almanac tells
you to, and if it don't come, why you can
keep looking out.
PICTURE or LIFE.—In youth we seeni to
be climbing a hill on whose fop eternal sun
shine seems to rest. How eagerly we pant
to attain its summit! But when we have at
tained it, how different the prospect on the
other side ! We sigh as we contemplate the
dreary waste before us, and look back with a
wistful eye upon the flowery path we have
passed, but may never more retrace. Life
is a porteutious cloud, fraught with thunder,
storm and rain; but virtue; like' the stream
ing. sunshine, will clothe it with light as a.
garment, and fringe its shadowy skirts with
Me-Why is the heart of a lover like the
sea serpent? Because it is a secreter (sea
critter) of great sighs (size.)