The globe. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1856-1877, May 16, 1860, Image 1

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ottxlr.
FAREWELL.
'Tis past, we are sever'd, in anguish and tears,
Do I bid thee a silent farewell ;
'Mid the passions of youth, its hopes and its fears,
And grief that lies buried in the dim future years,
Shall I honor thy memory—Bell?
'Twere folly to meet thee, to see thee again,
To thyself it were sorrow, disappointment to me;
Yet still there is pleasure in feeling such pain,
There is joy in each throe of despair, that the brain
Feels, and reels under, dreaming of thee.
Then mourn not, or weep, for thy happiness flown,
'Tis enough that I sigh for love, pleasure and thee,
The memories that cluster round thee and my home
Can I banish Y—Als, no; yet dear is the groan
That foreshadows deep misery to me.
Original
[Written for The Globe.]
Mr. Grimshaw's Trial.
BY GAY.
Oft when twilight veils the earth ; when
my ears are still sounding with the din of
day ; when the birds have ceased their carols,
to rest beneath the rustling leaves; when the
cattle, wearied with grazing, are reclining on
the village lawn. Yes, then, when every
thing is silent, save an occasional chirrup of
the cricket on the hearth, , or the lonely, though
grating voice of the " Katy Did," it is a mel
ancholly pleasure for me to sit, my hands
covering my face, and my imagination peer
ing back—back through the dim mist of by
gone years.
Bright faces and fairy forms surround me.
Old friends, old companions, and old school
mates look me in the eyes. Those sweet
faces I used to love, are still the same ; the
same merry laughter rings in my ears. Peer
ing dimly through this group of fairy forms,
is one, one that I loved, aye, more than all
the rest, whose childish voice is still reverber
ating through my mind, like the dying tones
of a silver bell. Away, you mock me, you
are dead. Did you not die when we were
children ? Was it not I who first discovered
you, bleeding and disabled, mangled by the
cruel limb of a great oak—wrenched from
the earth by a stream of terrific fire. No,
no, your fairy form was no charm against the
lightning's quick, fierce stroke. You fell like
the opening bud, broken from the parent
stem before its beauty was seen, or its fra
grance was blended with the pure air ; and
now you come at this time, when I am alone;
when Nature seems silent as a sleeping child.
Yes, you come to me, you stand before me,
in imagination, as if you really existed . ; as
if the grave-worm had not long since rioted
in your fair cheeks. But, eh! when my mind
returns to the present, I find I have been
wandering—it's a delusion—it flits like a shad
ow.
Mingled with my first recollections, comes
a scene which, as o`►en as it recurs to my
mind, drives away all gloomy feelings, like
darkness before the morning sun, forcing me
to laugh out-right. Well do I remember the
old stone school house; many a day I spent
in that old pile, cooped up from morning un
til night, at every opportunity stealing a peep
out side, and wishing I could go out and stay
out as long as I desired, and not be forced to
hold a detestable book in my hand continu
ally.
At the time of which I write, we were ruled
by a teacher whose name was Grimshaw.—
Ruled, yes, feruled and whipped, too. I dare
say that none of his scholars will ever forget
him, for, as he used to say, he " would give
us a token of remembrance," and it would be
doing him injustice to say he didn't keep his
word. He did not govern with' " a rod of
iron," but he had a grape vine about three
feet long, with a knot on the end, which an
swered the same purpose. llis term was four
months ; he had. been teaching about two ;
both parents and scholars were opposed to
the way in- which he dealt out education, yet
being favored by the director who had -in
stalled him, he still held the reins of govern
ment as tight as ever. One morning we were
all sitting around the great ten plate stove,
attending to our lessons, when " Good morn
ing, sir! Good morning, sir I" spoken in a
loud voice, broke the silence, and two young
men entered. In one, I recognized a relation
of mine; the other, a boon-companion of his.
If any tricks were played off at singing school,
any saddles turned wrong end foremost—any
body's bat bid—anything done which would
be the source of some fun, these two •were
blamed, whether guilty or not.
As they entered, I could see a smile play
ing on the countenance of every scholar. Do
more we dare not. One glance at the wicked
looking grape vine checked anything like a
rising laugh. " Come up . to the desk," said
the teacher, in a harsh voice, before they had
time to sit down. With as much innocence
as they knew how to assume, they walked up.
" What do you want ?" said my relation,
looking as silly as possible.
" What do I want? Well, I'll tell you
what I want. First, I want your name, that
is, if you intend coming to school here, do
you ?"
"Yes."
" Say, yes, sir."
" Yes, sir."
"Where's your books ?"
" Here they are," said they, at the same
time, as each one carefully placed a primer on
the desk.
Mr. Grimshaw, picking up a pen, contin
ued—
_
" What's your name, sir ?"
" Jediah Catchem."
Casting a keen, penetrating glance at the
new scholars, he wrote down the name.
" And your's ?" said he, addressing the
other.
" Ebenezer Holdem."
" Ebenezer Holdem," he muttered, wri
ting it down, " queer names indeed."
" Well, Jediah, did you ever go to school
any?"
" I went one day, but the master didn't
$1 50
75
50
.... 1 50 2 00
... 2 00
3 months. 8 months. 12 months.
...$1 50 $3 00 $5 00
.... 3 00 5 00 7 00
. 8 00 10 00
.10 00 15 00
5 00
7 00
WILLIAH LEWIS,
VOL XV.
come, and then I didn't go any more till this
winter."
" Have you ever went any, Ebenezer ?"
" I went as much as Jed did."
" Say, Jediah ?"
" Jediah."
" When I told you to say Jediab, I didn't
mean that you should repeat it after me, but
that you should call him by his proper name,
as we allow no nick naming here—take your
books and sit there," pointing to a low seat,
nearly filled with juveniles.
A general titter went round the school
room, the teacher seized the symbol of au
thority, that fatal vine, and, in a voice of
thunder, uttered the word " silence." That
warning was enough, with books up, we all
commenced moving our lips, whether we were
studying or not.
" Please sir, to let me set on that high
seat ?"
"Please sir, to let me set there too ?" said
the new scholars, almost at the same time.
" If you want to set there so badly, set
there, get your books, and keep quiet," yelled
the teacher.
In the hurry with which they changed
seats, the juvenile bench was capsized, and
no little confusion ensued for the space of ten
minutes. Our heroes, each with a primer ()ter
his face, looked the picture of despair, and,
if making amends for the mischief they had
done, seemed spelling away for dear life, not
heeding the biting words and dark brow of
Mr. Grimshaw,
Peace was again restored, and the testament
class was called up.
" Please sir, to let me read in the testa
ment class ?"
" Please sir, to let me read in it, too ?"
again came flora the corner of the advanced
(in years) juveniles, to the annoyance of the
teacher, who now saw plainly that he was
completely " gulled." Breathing vengeance
on the intruders, he left the school room
amidst the laughter of all. It is unnecessary
to say that the next day was a holiday, and
the next, and the next, and the next.
Barney ©'Salentine and the Devil
EY SAM SLICK, ESQ.
Well, there lived an old woman some years
ago at Musquash Creek, in South Carolina,
that had a large fortin and an only darter.
She was a widder, a miser, and a drunker.
She was very good and very cross, as many ri
teous pious people are, and had a loose tongue
and a tight pus of her own. All the men
that looked to her darter, she tho't had an
eye to money, and she warn't far out of the
the way, nuther, for it seems as if beauty and
money was too much to go together in a gen
eral way. Rich - gals and handsoine gals
seldom good for nothin' else but their cash
or their looks. Pears -and peaches are not
often found on the same tree, I tell you.—
She lived all alone the most, with nobody but
her darter and her in the house, and some
old nigger slaves in a hut near at hand ;
and she seed - no company she could help.—
The only place they went, in a general way,
was meetin ; and Jerusha never missed that,
for it was the only chance she had sometimes
of getting out alone.
Barney had a most beautiful voice and al
ways went there, too, to sing alone with the
gals ; and Barney hearin of the fortin of Miss
Elles, made up to her as fierce as possible,
and sang so sweet, and talked so sweet, and
kissed FO sweet, that he soon stood number
one with the heiress. But he didn't often
get a chance to walk home with her, and
when he did, she darsn't let him come in for
fear of the old woman. But Barney warn't
to be put off that way long. When a gal's
in one pastur, and a lover's in another, it's a
high fence that they can't get over, that's a
fact.
" Tell you what," says Barney, " set up
alone ip the keepin' room, Jerusha, dear, ar
ter old mother has gone to bed, put out the
light, and I'll slide down on the rope from
the trap-door on the roof. Tell her you are
exercised in your mind, and want to meditate
alone, as the words you have hoard this day
have reached your heart."
Jerusha was frightened to death almost ;
but what won't a woman do when a lover is
in the way ? So that very night she told the
old woman she was exercised in her mind,
and would wrestle with the spirit. ,
" Do, dear," says the mother, " and , you
won't think of the vanities of dress, and idle
company no more. You see how I have
given them - up sines I made profession, and
never so much as talk of 'em now, or even
thinks of 'em."
" Strange, Squire, ain't it ? But it's much
easier to cheat ourselves than cheat the devil.
That old hag was too stingy to buy a dress,
but persuaded herself it was bein' tuo good.
Well, the house was a flat-roofed house,
and had a trap-door in the ceilin' over the
keepin' room, and there was a crane on the
roof, with a rope to pull up things to spread
all out, and when Barney thought the old
woman was asleep, he crawls out of the house,
opens the trap-door, and lets himself down by
the rope, and he and Jerusha set down on
the hearth in the chimney corner courtin', or
as they call it in them diggins, " sniffin ash
es." When daylight began to show, he went
up the rope hand over hand, hauled it up af
ter him, closed to the trap-door, and made
himself scarce. Well, all this went on as
slick as could be, for a while . but the old wo
man seed that her darter looked pale, as if
she hadn't sleep enough, and there was no
gettin' her up in the mornin', and when she
did, she was yawnin' and gapin' and so dull
she hadn't a word to say. She got very un
easy about it at last, and used to get up in
the night sometimes, and call her darter, and
make her go off to bed, and once or twice she
come plagy near catchin of them."
So what does Barney do, but take two nig
gers with him, when he went after that, and
leaves them on the roof, and fastens a large
basket to the rope, and tells them if they feel
the rope pulled, they must hoist away for dear
life, but not to speak a word for the world.—
Well, one night the old woman came to the
door, as usual, and says, " Jerusha," says
she, " what on airth ails you, to make you
sit up all night that way ? Do come to bed.
" I'm rastling with the evil one, I'll come
_presently." !‘ Dear, dear," says she, " you
have rastled long enough with him to have
throwed him by this time. If you can't throw
him now, give it up, or he may throw you."
" Presently, warm," says the darter. " It's
always the same tune," says her mother, go
in' off grumblin—" it's always presently—
what has got into that gal to act so ? Oh,
dear I what a pertracted time she has on it.
She has been sorely exercised, poor girl."
As soon as she had gone, Barney larfe l a' so
that he had to put his arm around her to
study him on the bench; in a way that didn't
look unlike rompin, and when he went to
whisper, he larfed so he did nothin' but touch
her cheek with his lips, in a way that looked
plauguily like kissing, and felt like it, too,
and she pulled to get a way, and that he had
a most regular rastle as they sat on the bench
and down went both on the floor with an aw
ful smash, and in bounced the old woman.—
" Which is uppermost," says she. " Have
you throwed Satan or has Satan throwed you ?"
" I have throwed him," says her darter ; "and
I hope he's broke his neck, he acted so."—
" Come to bed, then darlin," says she, " and
say a prayer afterward, and"—just then
the old woman was seized round the waist,
hoisted to the roof and from thence to the
crane, where the basket stopped, and the first
thing she know'd she was away up ever so
far in the large basket and no soul near her.
" Barney and his niggers cut stick in
double quick time, crept into the bushes, and
went all round the road, just as day was break
in'. The old woman was a singin' out for
dear life, kickin' and squealin' and cryin' and
prayin', all in one properly frightened. Down
runs Barney, hard as he could slip, lookin'
as innocent as if he'd never heard nothin' of
it, pretendia' to be horrid frightened ; offers
his services, climbs up, releasos the old wo
man, and gets blessed until he gets tired of
it. "Oh !" says the old woman, " Mr. O'Bal
entine, the moment Jerusha throwed the evil
one, the house shook like an earthquake, and
as I entered the room he grabbed me. Oh I
I shall never forget his fiery eyeballs, and the
horrid smell of brimstone he had."
" Had he a cloven foot and a long tail ?"
says Barney. "I couldn't see in the dark,"
said she ; " but his claws were awful sharp,
oh ! how they dug into my ribs. It e'ne most
took the flesh off—oh, dear ! Lord have mer
cy upon us ! I hope he's laid in the Red Sea
w ."
"Tell you what it is, Aunty," says Barney,
" that's an awful story ; keep it secret for
your life—folks might say the house was barn
ted—that you were possessed, and that Jerti...;
sha was in league with the evil one. Don't so
much as lisp a syllable to a livin' sinner
breathitn keep - the secret, and .1 will help
you."
The hint took; the old woman had no wish
to be burnt or drowned for a witch, and the
moment'a feller has a woman's secret, he is
that woman's master. He was invited there,
he stayed there, married there; but the old
woman never knew who the evil one was, and
always thought to her dying day it was old
Scratch himself. After her death they didn't
keep it secret no longer, and many a good
larf has there been at the story of Barney
O'Balentine and the Devil.
In olden times before the Maine laws were
invented, Wing kept the hotel at Middle
Grainville, and from his well stocked bar fur
nished " accommodations to man and beast."
He was a good landlord, but terribly deaf.—
Fish, the village painter, was afflicted in the
same way.
One day they were sitting by themselves
in the bar room. Wing was behind the coun
ter, waiting for the next customer; while Fish
was lounging before the fire with a thirsty
look, casting sheep's eyes occasionally at
Wing's decanters and wishing most devoutly
that some one would come in and treat.
A traveler from the South, on his way to
Brandon, stepped in to inquire the distance.
Going up to the counter lie said :
" Can you tell me, sir, how far it is to Bran
don ?"
"Brandy ?" says the ready landlord jump
ing up ; " yes, sir, I have some," at the same
time handing down a decanter of the precious
liquid.
" You misunderstand me," says the stran
ger ; " I asked how far it was to Brandon ?"
" They call it pretty godd brandy," says
Wing. " Will you take sugar with it ?"
reaching, as he spoke, for the bowl and toddy
stick.
The despairing traveler returned to Fish.
" The landlord," said he, "seems to be deaf;
will you tell me how far it is to Brandon?"
" Thank you," said Fish ; I don't care if I
do take a little brandy with yon!"
The stranger treated and fled.
There is a great deal of truth im the follow
ing lines, written by one who has unquestion
ably had experience, and utters what he con
siders the truth :
It needs no guilt to break a husband's heart.
The absence of content, the mutterings of
spleen, the untidy dress and cheerless home,
the forbidding scowl and deserted hearth—
these; and her .nameless neglects, without a
crime among them, have narrowed to the
quick the heart's core of many a man, and
planted there beyond the reach of cure, the
germ of dark despair. 0 may woman before
the sight arrives, dwell on the recollections of
her youth, and cherishing the dear idea of
that tuneful time, awaken and keep alive the
promise she so kindly gave. And though
she may be the injured one, not the injuring
—the forgotten and not the forgetting wife—
a happy allusion to the hour of peaceful love
—a kindly welcome to a comfortable home—
a smile of- love to banish hostile words—a
kiss of peace to pardon all the past, and the
hardest heart that over locked itself within
the breast of selfish man, will soften to her
charms, and bid her live, as she had hoped,
her years of matchless bliss, loved, loving and
content—the source of comfort and the spring
of joy.
A POPULAR writer says, that men like chil
dren, are pleased with a rattle. Not if it is
at the tail of a snake.
HUNTINGDON, PA., MAY 16, 1860.
I Don't Care if I Do.
The Wife.
-PERSEVERE.--
[From the Harrisburg Patriot and Union.]
PERILS OF TEIE DEMOCRATIC PARTY.—The
proceedings at Charleston make it evident that
the Democratic party, and with it, the coun
try, has reached the crisis of its fate, from
which nothing but the greatest prudence,
wisdom and patriotism can extricate us. We
do not say that the entaglement is past un
ravelling, but that it will require the highest
qualities and the utmost prudence and for
bearance to accomplish the - work. When se
cession from the Democratic Convention, the
forerunner of secession from the Union,
reared its standard at Charleston, it was
time for the representatives of the National
Democracy to pause and allow the country
time for deliberation, before taking an irre
vocable step into the future.
It is probable that this course may tend to
heal the breach and brinz_order out of con
' fusion. The Convention will have time to
ascertain the effect of the proceedings at
Charleston upon the country, the extent of
the defection, and the cause and cure of •the
difficulties that beset the party. At Balti
more there should be no discussion about the
Platform, which was the immediate source of
all the troubles at Charleston. The subject
should be regarded as settled. We do not
see any reasonable grounds of objection to
the Platform adopted by the majority of the
Convention at Charleston. It embraces ev
ery principle upon which the National Dem
ocratic party can agree, and any attempt to
give it a stronger Southern cast would be fa
tal to the Nationality as well as to the suc
cess of the Democratic party. It wisely ab
stains from deciding between the conflicting
theories agitating, and, to some extent, divi
ding the party upon Territorial questions.—
It does not determine whether a Territorial
Legislature has, or has not, power to exclude
slavery, but submits that question where it
properly belongs, and where alone it can be
finally and authoritatively determined—to
the Judiciary. It stands by the principle of
non-intervention, for which we contended in
1856, and which has been recognized as the
doctrine of the party since that time ; and
consequently does not rush into the palpable
inconsistency of recommending Congression
al intervention for the protection of slavery
in the Territories. It pledges the Democratic
patty to abide by the 'decision of the Supreme
Court of the United States over this question
of slavery in the Territories, and denounces
the enactments of State Legislatures to de
feat' the. faithful execution of the Fugitive
Slave law as subversive of the Constitution and
revolutionary in effect. We do not see the
slightest cause for dissatisfaction with this
Platform. In fact it is impossible to imagine
any other declaration of principles that could
be acceptable to the whole party and main
tain its compact Nationality. A declaration
in favor of either of the conflicting views
upon the Territorial question would, inev
itably, divide the party. To say, with Mr.
Douglas, that a Territorial Legislature has
power to exclude slavery, while Congress has
not, would drive off the whole Southern wing
and a large portion of the party in the North.
To say, on the other hand,.with the extreme
Southern men, that it is the duty of Con
gress to protect slavery in the Territories and
to intervene in its behalf, would hopelessly
destroy the party in the North. The Con
vention, very wisely, refused to endorse eith
er of these positions, but declaring the broad
and general principles of the party, commit
ted these distracting questions to the Judi
ciary—and in so doing they acted in precise
conformity with the Reading Convention and
common sense.
Everything now depends upon the action
of the Southern States from which delegates
seceded at Charleston. They are now called
upon to elect others in . the place of those who
abandoned the regular Convention. This will
test whether the seceding delegates represen
ted their constituents truly or not. In every
one of these States a conflict will commence
between the moderates, who are willing' to
stand upon the Convention's Platform, and
the ultras, who desire to break up the Demo
cratic party and the Union for an abstrac
tion. This contest will be a solemn and se
rious one, for it will gauge the depth and ex
tent of the Union feeling in the Southern
States, as well as the power of the fire-eat
ers. In former contests, where the ultras of
the South have fought under their own ban
ner, they have,been beaten, and they may be
beaten again/ . If their places are supplied
at Baltimore by men who prize the Union
above all things—men who are willing to
fight under a National flag for the preserva
tion of the Union against the attacks of sec
tionalism, we may be assured that Southern
ultraism has run its course, and look for such
action at Baltimore as will place the Demo
cratic party in an unassailable position and
assure its success in November. A victory
of the conservatives of the South over the
sectionalists would confirm the Nationality of
the Democratic party, and be followed by a
victory over the sectionalists of the North.--
Such a triumph would be doubly glorious.—
But if the Southern States confirm the action
of the seceding delegates, and the scenes of
Charleston are re-enacted at Baltimore, it
will be ominious of disaster to the party and
the Union. When the last remaining bond
is broken and the country is divided into sec
tional parties, each overflowing with animos
ity, what can resoue this Union from destruc
tion ?
[Froin the Louisville (Ky.) Detue;crat.]
Still, we are not unmindful of the trickery,
juggling, and rascality brought to bear in
Charleston to defeat the choice of the Democ
racy. Stephen A. Douglas stands a head and
shoulders above them all; he had a majority
in the Convention, and could beat anyone of
his competitors at the polls; still, with the
fact before the Convention, members would
withdraw, secede and kick up generally,
rather than . give him the nomination. Let
the people speak for theinselves. The poli
ticians are against Douglas—the people are
for him, and as the latter do the voting, it is
about time their voice should be heard. When
alititzd, *.c.
Opinions off The Press.
the Convention referred back to the people to
fill vacancies to represent the States that
withdrew, it would have been well, also, to
have asked that all the States appoint new
delegates to the Convention to be held at Bal
timore on the 18th of June. It is not usual
to allow jurors who cannot agree upon a ver
dict to sit again upon the case. So we would
favor the re-appointment of delegates from
one end of the Union to another, that the
voice of the people may be fully and fairly
known. The fresher the delegates from the
people the better, the more surely they will
represent their will and wish. The trickery,
rascality, and juggling manoeuvres of politi
cians and aspirants, could not then be brought
to bear upon the Convention, and the unmis
takable voice of the people would be made
known.
[From the Cleveland Plaindcaler.]
The majority over all, including fifty-two
bolters counted against him, have pronounced
for Douglas, while no other man has ever re
ceived one fifth of the Convention. In al
most all elections in our Government, a plu
rality elects, beyond dispute ; a majority is
the highest order of preference asked any
where. This Mr. Douglas has bad, including
the fifty-two against him, though some of
them were elected expressly to vote for him.
Of the real legitimate acting Convention, he
has steadily received three fifths of the votes.
Pour years ago, he felt bound, as a man of
honor, to yield at once the nomination to him
who had obtained a majority of votes ; and
now, the courtesy which he then thought in
volved his honor, is denied him with three
fifths in his favor. This is the state of things
when the Convention adjourns to Baltimore,
giving the President forty-six days to hunt
' Whitneys and pay off J. Glanceys ; and now
let the people speak out for " Vox Populi Vox
Dei."
[From the Petersburg (Va.) Press, May 5.]
CHARLESTON CONVENTION.—The Conven
tion having adjourned without the accom
plishment the design for which they were
sent to Charleston, it may be regarded proper
for us to state our position in regard to the
action of the Southern delegates.
We are clear in our convictions that the se
cession movement was all wrong and cannot
be justified to the satisfaction of any one un
less they are first willing to announce a wil
lingness and a desire to bring about a disrup
ture of this glorious Union, which has for so
many years found strength in the hearts of
all true patriots, both North and South. The
South has for a long time professed to be de
voted to the Union, and in most of the speeches
made by Southern orators, we find the fire of
patriotism burns bright and long, and loud
are the tributes paid to the glorious dead who
fought, bled, and died that we might enjoy
the rich heritage of republican freedom. Yet
all this must now, that we have grown into a
grandeur unsurpassed by any other nation
on the broad earth, be dashed down, annihi
lated and destroyed, on a mere abstraction.
All this and more is threatened by the course
and line of policy proposed by the secession
ists from the late National Convention. Now,
while we profess as much love for the South
and its institutions as any other man, yet we
do say at this particular juncture we can see
no good reason for any movement on the part
of the South which has a tendency to prodUce
so disastrous a result. Of one thing the
South, or that portion of it who sympathize
with this new move on the part of the South
ern men, will find deep and earnest sympa
thy from a quarter from which few men who
really love their country would desire to ob
tain it. Is it generally knOwn in this State
that the Black Republican party would much
prefer to see an ultra-Southern man nomina
ted to a Northern Democrat ? Is it generally
known that of all the Democrats on the face
of the earth, they do most cordially despise
Stephen A. Douglas ; admitting this fact, as
admitted to us by Senator Wilson, of Massa
chusetts, we would like to ask if they are not
actuated by some sinister design in desiring
the nomination of a Southern man? 'Will
not this course be well calculated to array
against us a large sectional party at the North,
who will overwhelm us at the South, and thus
bring about all the disagreeable attendants
upon civil war ?
Now, we propose, in this last paragraph,
to give another and perhaps the strongest
reason which operat's upon the Republican
party, and causes them to desire the defeat of
Judge Douglas' nomination, and it. is this :
they think he is the only Democrat in the
whole Union who can at this time be elected
to the Presidency of the United States—a
good reason for their hatred surely.
Disgraceful Conduct of the Pennsylvania
Traitors at the Charleston Convention
---Joe Baker Imitating Heenan the
Bruiser---Bigler and Dawson his Bot
tle-Holders, &c.
The following account of the disgraceful
and humiliating scone which took place at
Charleston among a portion of the Pennsyl
vania Delegation, we clip from the -Washing
ton States. We merely give it a place in our
columns in order that the Democracy of the
State may see to what a base and disgusting
level such traitors as Bigler, Baker, Dawson
& Co. descended, in order to break up and de
stroy the Democratic party:
DISGRACEFUL OCCURRENCE.—There was a
mostldisgraceful occurrence in the Pennsylva
nia delegation yesterday. After the Conven
tion decided to recommit the platform to the
committee, that body held its meeting, and
when Hon. Hendrick 11. Wright east the
vote of Pennsylvania for the minority resolu
tions, in accordance with the sentiments of
the Democracy of Pennsylvania, he was told
by Senator Bayard that he (Mr. - Wright) was
instructed to vote with the Southern mem
bers of the committee. 111 r. 'Wright replied
that this statement could not be correct, as
the Pennsylvania delegation, at a meeting held
on Saturday morning had refused to instruct
him. Another member of the committee
said such instructions had been given, for
he had seen them. Mr. Wright then with
drew from the committee, to ascertain the
fact. On his way to the steamer he met Hon.
John L. Dawson, Senator Bigler, and Collec
tor Baker. Dawson handed him a paper pur
Editor and Proprietor.
INO. 47.
porting to be instructions from the Pennsyl
vania delegates, which directed him to vote
for the Bayard proposition. Mr. Wright re
fused to recognize pretended instructions of
such a character, inasmuch as there had been
no meeting of the delegation, and, of course,
no proper or official action had been taken Dy
them in relation to the subject.
On hearing this, Collector Baker flew into
a towering passion, and called Mr. Wright a
falsifier. The latter rejoined that he (Baker)
was a liar, whereupon the Collector struck
Mr. Wright, accompanying the blow with a
number of blasphemous epithets.
The outrage is rendered still more mon
strous by the fact that in reality no instruc
tions had been adopted, of the alleged charac
ter, but Dawson„Bigler, and Baker. had se
cretly prepared a paper, and by false repre
sentations had induced a number of delegates
to sign it, some of whom now deeply regret it.
When this fraudulent scheme failed, vio
lent attempts were made to wrench the pre
tended written instructions from Mr. Wright's
hand and to destroy it, but he fortunately re
tained it in his possession, and it will prove
a valuable memento of the occurrence.
Such is a portion of the history of violence,
fraud and outrage, practised on the part of
the Pennsylvania traitors and disunionists,
led on by Senator Bigler, to dragoon the hon
est and consistent portion of the Pennsylva
nia delegation into a submission to treacher
ous and damnable schemes of the Southern
fire-eaters.
The brutal and cowardly attack made upon
the Hon. Hendrick B. Wright by the bully
Baker, excited the utmost indignation among
honorable men of. all parties at Charleston.
Baker is a very large and powerful man—
larger, and much heavier than his fellow
" bruiser," Heenan—and in the full flush
and vigor of his manhood ; while Mr. Wright
is an aged and white-haired gentlemen, quite
feeble in health, and, at the time, so much
laboring under the effects of a debilitated sys
tem as to be but part of the time able to at
tend to the discharge of his duties.
Singular Occurrence.
[Correspondence of the Patriot and Union.]
SUNBURY, April 30, 1860.
MESSRS. Enrrorts:—l will relate a circum
stance which happened in this place a few
days since of a very mysterious nature, and
the truth of which can be established by
some of the most respectable citizens of this
place, on which perhaps you may he able to
give us some light. The Sheriff of this coun
ty a few days since went over to the town of
Northumberland for the purpose of drawing
some money from the Bank. He had in a
wallet in his pocket some $3OO, and he drew
from the Bank $1,700, making a sum total
of $2,000. and then returned home. When
he arrived at home it was sometime after
dusk, and he repaired to his room for the pur
pose of depositing his money until morning,
when to his astonishment and horror, he dis
covered that he bad lost the money. Here
was a delirnma.! What to do he could not
tell. He was afraid to let any person know
of the matter, and he examined and re-ex
amined his coat. During one of his exami
nations his little son, a child of about five
years old, who had been sleeping in his crib
in his father's chamber, sat up in his crib
and asked hisTather what he was looking for.
His father not wishing that his child should
know ought of his loss, told him to lay down
and go to sleep, as he had not lost anything.
But the child told. him that he had lost his
pocket-book, and that it was laying in the
middle of the road about one hundred yards
this side of the Northumberland bridge.—
The father bade him lay down and keep
quiet. He went down stairs, told a neighbor
friend of his (in whom he could confide) of
his loss, and also what his son had told him.
His friend suggested to him the propriety of
making an immediate examination of the
matter and he would accompany him, and
that they should take the little boy along
with them. The Sheriff went into his house,
got his little son up, had him dressed, and
procuring a lantern they started, following
the road and directions of the little child.—
While yet some distance from the bridge the
neighbor suggested to the father the proprie
ty of sending the child ahead alone and see
if he could find the money ; which sugges
tion was adopted. Off the child started,
without a lantern or light, the gentlemen fol
lowing at a respectable distance. 'When the
little child arrived at the spot designated, he
being in the middle of the road, stooped
down and picked up the wallet, and banding
it to his father, told him that there was his
pocket-book. You can imagine that `.'ether's
astonishment when he found that the wallet
was not only his, but that every dollar that
had been in it was there still
Another : A party of gentlemen were con
gregrated at the station house discussing the
chief merits of the respective combatants for
the championship of the world, and some
knowing of the above circumstance, proposed
to go down to the Sheriff's and ask his son
concerning the fight. They went down.—
This took place on the .19th of April. A
gentleman from Harrisburg being one of the
party, asked the child concerning the fight
in England. The child told them the battle
had been fought, and that the big man would
have whipped the little one, but they would
not let him ; that they broke in the ring
and stopped the fight, but the big man knock
ed the little one down often, and one time he
picked him up and threw him down and 'fell
on him and once threw him on the ropes.—
This I just mention in connection with what
you published on Saturday morning, April
sth. I will also mention in connection with
the robbery of the store you noticed. When
the child was asked what kind of silks were
stolen, he told them that there was some
black, red, striped and white. One of the
firm said that this was not correct, as they
had no white silk in the store. The child
persisted in his answer, and the other mem
ber coming in at the time, he was appealed
to, and he replied that there had been a piece
of white silk stolen.
From Washington.
WASHINGTON, May 5.
DOUGLAS MEETINGS IN TUE SOUTII.
As the homeward-bound delegates passed
through North Carolina and Virgina, they
were called upon by thousands at the differ
ent stations and assured that the South would
certainly go for Douglas. At Wilmington,
Attorney General of the State addressed the
delegates telling them that North Carolina
would give the Douglas Electoral ticket twen
ty thousand majority. Meetings harp al•
ready been held at New Orleans, Petersburg,
and Richmond, (Va.,) to denounce the sece.
ders, and to help Douglas. Will not the
Northern Democracy go and do likewise ?
DEATEI OF AN AGED INDIAN.—Setb, one of
the head chiefs of the New York tribes, died
in Southern Kansas last week. He has lived
on the little Osage for twenty years.
Ber.. In 1859, the American coal trade
reached 50,000,000 tow, •