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jOBUSHED BVBBT THURSDAY MOENIHO BT
JoUu B. Bi’attou.
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JoB-PiiiNTiNO—Such as Hand-bills, Posting
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cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice.
poetical
THE CLOUDS.
Fleecy clouds, ye are fleeting!
In the deep blue air—
Fleecy clouds, ye are fleeting !
Wanderers, where?.
Fleecy clouds, ye are fleeting!
Bright and gay .
Floating, onward floating.
Faraway!
Ye were of the midnight storm,
W hose sable shroud
Swepi o’er the created deep,
- iVnd thuudered loud._
• Yet we crowned at early dawn,
1 (It broke so bright!)
The mountain summits bathed
In rosy light.
Curl, and waft, and’wind,
So gaily on—
Till ye fold, as crimson gleams
The selling sun.
So richly soft, so tinged >
With glowing dyes—
Ye float in gorgeous wreaths.
O’er western skies.
Hove, then, ye beauteous!.. rove,
Where moonbeams pour,
On clustering clouds the light
That gushes o’er! •
Yet as the night-wind sighs,
High sweeping there—
Like phan tons ai the blast,
Ye vanish, where? .
LEFT AT HOME.
Let minstrels sing and poets tell .
(Jf-regions far away,
Of giant cave and fairy dell. '
Bright skies and endless day,
. And I will own each glowing scene
I panted once to view.
And in my youth have truant been.
To gaze on wonders too :
Bui mountains high, and azure sky,.
Where’er I chose to roam,
Ne'er won ihe heart tho’ pleased the eye,
Like those I felt at home!
Tho’ distant climes my senses chain'd
With dazzling beauties rare.
Yet none'my soul with gladness warm’d
Like Yankee maidens fair.
I’ve gazed on Sashing, sparkling eyes,
And met love’s ’winning smile,
Yet none so dearly do I prize;
Nor those in Britain's Isle;
No more in search of foreign charms
'My wandering steps shall roam ;
No scenes more brignt. nor fairer forms
’ Than those 1 left at home.
~Hlmlliinmis.
A CONFESSION. •v"*;
Hy friend H- married in early life. The
lady that ho chose was d beautiful but weak
minded girl. H—— was a whole-souled; plea
sure-loving youth, the life of every circle that
he favored with his company 'i
The club of which ho was a member acknow
ledged that ho was the wittiest and handsomest
member among them ; but, as I have already
said, H married early; and now let mo add,
only three months had elapsed when wd,obser
ved a marked change in oiir favorites
His bright sinHe was changed for a serious
and often sad expression; -lie came to the club
rooms less frequently than had. been his wpnt,
and while there he read.his paper and smoked,
seldom joining in any conversation.
. He had been in the habit of taking out but
one cigar during the . evening, atid that- this
sometimes, thrown away half-consumed. Now
l>e seethed to smoke, as some persons drink,
“ tt> drive away dull Sato.” When the door.
Opened ho started and held the cigar half-hid
den by ids paper, as if afraid of being caught in
some forbidden enjoyriient.
After! had observed my friend, evening after
evening, and felt convinced that some secret
sorrow was destroying his peace, I dho night
lift the room with him, offering to walk homo
by his side. He drew my arht within his owft,
and gave my hand a friendly pressure: as ho
turned his face toward tile gas light I saW that
d tear stood in his eye. I said, “IT —, you
are, in trouble—can I relieve you? Do you
need pecuniary aid 7 If so, let mo have the
pleasure of bestowing it. You have a young
wife and your expenses must necessarily have
increased—perhaps thofe than yoft a'nfihipatod;
and young spmetifhes have to wait long
for their CiieS. If you would like to borrow
wf- ney, say so; I have more thah enough for
an old bachelor.’*
“ Old bachelor! Would that I Were ——■ —.”
Hero bo pausqd, and turning to me, added:
“B , reveal not what I have just uttered. —.
Toil have always been like a brother to me. and
you shall know the cause of my distress; I am
sure you will never make an improper use of
what I tell you.”
After assuring him that he might safely con
fide in -me, that I would; never divulge his .se
cret until I had received his pei'misslOn, 1 lis
tened to the iollowingyecital:
(•I married too hastily ; Clara’s beauty daz
zled mo, and ! saw not hcraelects; tiro poor
girl declares she loves me; but preferable would
be her'hatred. I cannot leave her presence
without being obliged oh my return to account
for every moment of my absence, Any spot is
better than my homo, yet I cannot seek pence
elsewhere without a certainty that 1 must pay a
severe penalty. My wile forbids me to smoke
ih her presence, therefore I must go abroad to
enjoy what I cannot discontinue at onCo.. In
deed, the desire (or such indulgence increases
with my efforts to leave it off.”
Suddenly starling, my friend exclaimed: —
•‘There she Is now, with her bend out of the
window this cold night, though I have sought
her not to expose herself in this way; but such
is her revenge lor my going abroad. Can you
wonder that I ana changed J I would rather
die than live thus.”
Ere I had spoken many words of consolation
wo were at my friend’s door, I was pressing
H’p hand when the door opened, and a delicate
but beautiful Judy held a light,.which showeu
too plainly the frown which disfigured her lair
face.
“ Well, sir, homo ot Igstl” and the door
closed oro my friend bad finished saying “good
night.”
I was enraged, and declared any man was a
fool to submit .to such treatment.' I resolved
that I would marry in less than a month, to show
H- and other unlortiinatea that a woman can be
governed.
I lay awake that night thinking over alll my
lady friends, and considering which should bp
fty victim. ' Some wore too silly, others too
Plain looking;, but I remembered that one was
““autiful, intelligent, and so high spirited that
to subdue her would bo a grand achievement.
I‘ had wealth, position, and (excuse my vani
ty.) not-a.bad.person. The fair one in question
b had always admired, and she had invariably
tocoirod me well. Indeed; I hadlbeon assured*
|*y ?n acquaintance of Miss C. that I was a fa-
v °mo with her. But as I had’ resolved: to lend
ImOTffltt
BY JOHN B. BRATTON.
YOL. 46.
a single'llte, I had never entertained any serious
intentions towards the one I now determined
to marry if she would accept. I determined to
put oh the chains ot matrimony to prove that
they could not always enslave.
Id three weeks from that night I caught my.
bird. We were to be united toward the close
of the coming week, in -accordance with my
wishes, that we might spend the holidays with
my .parents in Virginia.
On our return.we took possession of ournew
ly We gave a large party,
or rather it was a party that I might invite ail
my bachelor friends, as well ns some poor un
happy married men.
I was astonished when my bride agreed to ail
my arrangements, though she. knew ns well as I
did that they were peculiar. : *
I could ngt offend her by any of my proposi
tions, she gave no unasked advice—merely as.
jented_to_alLLsaid. l: —:
•‘Oh, a now broom.sweeps clean,” thought I.
“ She will show out when no longer a brieej I
know she is proud and spirited enough.” .
The evening passed delightfully, and I con
fess I was skeptical as to my ability to disturb
ray wife’s peace ot mind. .
The guests retired, after pacing many com
pliments on my choice of a wife, and we were
alone. As soon as J:.could interrupt Mary’s
gay and charming conversation, I said :
“ My dear, what did 'you think of my having
the wine and smoking arrangement for the gen
tlemen.”
“ Oh, it was a capital idea, my husband, ft
must have pleased your bachelor f'riends*to see
that you could not forget their comfort, although
no longer one of them. I must note it down
that It may never bo forgotten when wo give en
tertainments; married people-are too Indifferent
about tho comforts of poor old bachelors.”^
I was again disappointed; but 1 determined
not to retire uatil f called forth one frown of
pouting look.
My wife bad been sitting with one arm around
me; I gently drew mysell from her embrace. (I
could riot do it rudely,) and took a; cigar from
my, ciise. I. knew that before our engagement
she disliked tho habit of smoking.
I calmly seated myself upon a lounge and
puffed away.
“Did you observe Mrs. M.’s broach ?” in
quired tiiy wife, coming toward mo, seating her
self by my side. « No;” I replied, and smoked
away vigorously. Mary .continued to that gay.
,ly, but suddenly turned pale and dropped her
head on my shoulder, . She had tainted. I rang
tor a.servant,, opened tho window and applied
restoratives.. We boro her to her sleeping,
room, and, she soon revived. ;
. I asked, “ tyhat made you ill? Was it the
cigar? Why did you not speak when you first'
lelt ils effects?” and I felt myself blush with
shame as I hurriedly asked the questions. „
“ I wished to accustom myself, to your smok
ing,?’answered my wife; “for I cannot bear to
drive'you from. my presence every time you
wish to enjoy a cigar.”
“ Angel!” I exclaimed, “X shall never smoke
again.”
“ Oh, my husband,” said she, “make no vain
promises; the habit is not easily overcome, and
I do not ask you to discontinue it; now that I
know I cannot bear it, I can retire to the library
when you wish to smoko.”
She has never, been ohliaed to leave mb thus;
I have never smoked Would not be,
hirett to .takeamother. cigar in ray mouth. . .
A night 'or tivo after the ahovo' occurrence X.,
was 1 sitting bj-my tvjf’b, u-lio ivns imiurung me by
recounting the events of the day which find just
passed, some anecdotes relative, to her house,
keeping, &c, • I was charmed by her affection
and naivette, and would gladly hare remained
by her side. But she was to be subdued in all
respects, and in one she had not been tried.—'
Since.our-marriage I had not visited the club
rooms. I looked at my watch and carelessly
remarked, “I shall go to the-club, Mary; if you
grow sleepy, do not wait for me.l have a key.”
A shade of sadness flitted across her beauti
ful face, but it was succeeded by one ot her
sweetest smiles. Springing from my side, she
ran to the hall, brought out my overcoat, shoes,
etc., 1 placed them belore the tiro, and said :■
“ Do not torget to warm them before you leave
the club, , my husband, arid walk fast that yon
may not get ,co)d; indeed, I have another tor
wishing you to hasten home ; it will be a lonely
evening without you; but, you have deprived
yourself of belter society so long that I can
bear to spend an evening in anticipation, instead
of in the enjoyment of your company.”
1 hesitated—almost decided not to go; but it
would not cib to yield. I wont, and was almost
as dull as H., who was also there. Ho observ
ed hiy manner, and whispered: “In trouble
already?”
, “ YeS,” I answered; « and I shall he in trou
bid tiritil l acknowledge inysclf. conquered. I
married to enjoy the pleasure of • taming a
shrew;’ but I find myself wedded to an angel.
I tmist confess my mistake, and make myself
worthy the wile-thuf God has given me. Some
other bachelor must woo a woman to show that
a female, can berated. I-am vanquished, and
gladly do I yield to such a victor.”
Poor XI, sighed, rose, and walked the floor
some,minutes; then approaching me he said
“ Why this difference 1. Tour wife is beautiful
and graceful—so is mine. Your wife sitya she
loVes you—so dubs mine. Yours —”
“ Hold,” interrupted I, “your wife says she
loves you—mine proves it by consulting my hap
piness. You warned me against my wife’s pride
and spirit; I grant she possesses a largo quanti
ty of both, and what would a woman be without
thes’e traits ? Mary has excellent sense and tact.
These teach her how to control those character
istics which might make us both unhappy. Yes,
Hi, any man that ha* brains at all must not
choose a b’caufilul Wile without intellect; rather
fet him wed one with a plain face, a warm heart,
and good sense.??
I shook hands with poof H., and pitied him
sincerely, then crossed the htflf to the room
whore wore assembled many--niunibers ot the
club. I made a farewell address, in-which I
advised them' to follow my example, and shook
hands with them all. Soma bantered me, but
the greater number said their acq'riaibta'hce tVith
my wile had half indftced them to look around
lor an opportunity to do as i had done; and
they alb promised to accept my wife’s invitation
to come freely to our homo whenever tlioj felt
liko having quiet domestic enjoyment.
I hastened home,, entered the dining-room
whore I saw tho gas burning; my slippers were
warming before the Are, near which was drawn
a great arm-chair; on the table wet© a cup and
saucer, besides other arrangements for a com.
(ortable-supper. ' ■
t rang tho boll, and tho waiter appeared, I
asked who had placed my slippers there. He
smiled and laid, “I saw mistress put them
there, sir.” . . ,
As it was not a late hour, I was surprised that
my wife was not waiting, although I lequested
her to retire, if sleepy. .
I asked, “ Has Mrs, B. retired?” The serv
ant replied, “No, sir, she is in the kitchen
teachimr Nancy and EUcn to read,
I told the waiter not to disturb his mistress
but to wait in tho buttery until I called him.
I then stole quietly down to the kitchen, and
peeped through tho glass over the door, mo
largo pine fable contained books, slates, etc.
There sat my wife between two black females,
one was reading to her and the eyes of the outer
were gazing on tho taco of her mistress as it sne
considered her a being from a better world.
I returned to tho dining room, rang the boll,
and when tho waiter reappeared I bade him in
form his mistress, that I had arrived I fear some
long word was loft half pronounced, for in less
than two minutes she was in ray arms. ■
“ Ohi how good of yon to return so early 1
cried she; “but wl >y did you? Was It not
pleasant with your club J” 1
“No, ray. wife,” I replied, “1 shall go to ft
no mote. It answered very well while I had no
house of my own ; but now I have a dear, sen
siblo, loving wife, who is more attractive than
all the clubs in Christendom.”
Mary blushed at the compliment, and burying
her face in my bosom to hide the tears that
would come in spile of the smile, said, •< May!
ever deserve such pralso and love from you, my
husband; when you left me this evening, I sat
one moment on the lounge and shed tears be.
causeY felt so lonely j then I thought this will
not do; Charles must sometimes leave mo; I
will improve usefully every hour of his absence.
So after preparing lor your return' I went to the
ki'chen to instruct our women.”
My wife insisted upon my going to the club
oi ce a week, lest ray bachelor triehds become
j- alous of her, but they have witnessed so much
of our happiness that I think the club room will
not much longer he the resort of any but miser
able rejected bachelors and unhappy husbands.
Life among the Aborigines.
BT A. -D; { BIOHARpaOK.
Until the recent Pike’s Peak gold discoveries,
the few while men who resided aiming the Eas
tern spurs of Ihe Rocky Mountains arid upon
plains at their base, were all comprised in three
.classes; trappers, traders, and government
agents. With some ibis voluntary expatria
tion was the.result of fondness for adventure:
ot hers were actuated by ihe fare facilities for
obtaining wealth, in a region where there was
little competition ; and others still were in the
condition of those facetious scoundrels, who in
the convict colony in New South Wa|cs, sixty
years ago. proclaimed themselves
'■‘True patriots nl' : for be it understood,*
We left our country for our country’s good !”
TUB TBAPPBE3
were numerous in the mountains twenty years
ago ; . but are now nearly extinct, picked off.
one by one. by the rifles and arrows of ihe
treacherous savages. Like ail; men in constant
peril, and among strong excitements. their dan
gerous lives possessed a strange fascination,
which, once experienced, they coo'd never af
icnvard resist. They adopted the dress and
customs of the aborigines, joining some 1 Indian
tribe, and purchasing one or more squaws to
lighten their labors, and" Tear their dusky
race.”- They were mainly of French descent:
hence the frequent names from that language
still applied to valleys and si reams, and the
numerous words of French ongiri yet in famil
iar use through the far west In’that golden
age of the trappers, beaver skins: which have
now receded to one dollar a pound, sold really
for eight limes that sqm : and every brook and
cannon abounded in game. The few \yho re
main,are engaged, principal y, in trapping ot
ters. The only one I have met—among his
three squaws and six,pappooses—relates inany
thrilling incidents which have transpired dur
ing his seventeen years of mountain life; and
like a thorough conservative, sighs fur the good
o d limes which were, bin return not.
THIS TRADERS
lived with their families, in secure abode or log
forts, and;reaped a'rich harvest from, ,tfte -skill
idf; the’.trapp'era And the igridfaHeV- of WktfiTiidfy
iris.-;
Lou is prices.: ilfey pa id sg.j
gar ait $2 per cup, coarse ca'mo at' $2 if yard:
whisky at $3 per ' quart.-and'%ma(l -piecc,s of
> tobaoefi tit ®2 each. • BiiffalO Wrih-i
in the last ten years, they oQli d/TkaJly >buy pf
i.he lndians for u g ass .of: whisky. ■lt is easy
to Understand that in a few years they often re
alized ample fortunes, and were able to retire
to the luxuries of civilization. even -they,
became so much. enamored-.of life upon the
plains, that they were seldom able permanently
to abandon it.
GOVERNMENT AGENTS.
For many years'-the Government has employ
ed a resident agent among the various Indian
tribes, to disburse their annuities, prevent out
breaks, and encourage their growth tn civiliza
tion. Tho position is one of few checks- and
much responsibility : and the. Government, is
compelled to re y mainly upon the probity of
ils representative. In many cases current be.
lief asserts that much of the ,money, designed
for. the Indians, through One process or other
finds its way into ihe pocket of the agent. This
may be foul slander ; but it does look sirigu.ar
to --a man up a tree.” that these positions, with
smad salaries and unattractive surroundings,
should be so eagerly sought for!
yUB ARAPAHOE INDIANS.
own the present gold region, and a largo tract
of lundeast of it- They came to this vicinity
from the North-twenty-three years ago. They
are considered a peculiarly blood thirsty and
treacherous tribe i but are now so reduced by
tvars and the small pox—that terrible scourge
of their race—as to be no longer formidable
They regard the rUles”—a ferocious mountain
tribe —with great terror ; and gladly encamp
in Denver city, to be safe against their incur
sions.. : Their language is extremely harsh,
gulteral and difficult. It.is said that no while
man lias ever been able to acquire it; but the
trapper alluded to above, after living among
them mapy years, speaks it with cons-derable
fluency. He deems the longueof a neighboring
tribe much more difficult and recently remarked
tome:
• 1 lived among the Apaches eleven years,
and only learned twin words of their language.
I will pronounce them s ow y. and if you can
repeat either immediately after hearing it I wil
give you fifty dollars
He uttered them deliberately, and they were
not composed of ; more than four ,or five syla
hies. I con Id;not haVe'rcpfqduced'them, had my
life depended on it,. —T ’.
TUB LANGUAGE DY SIGNS,
in cominon u.se bei ween mountain men and the
various tfitieS of Indians is d curiosity. A trap
per meets half a dozen savages, al of diflerent
tribes ; and though no two of the,whole party
have ten spoken words in common, they-all
converse in dumb show for hours, and often re
lating incidents which Cause uproarious laugh
ter, or excite the sterner passions. To A nov
ice, these gesticulations mean no more than so
many gyrations induced by the St. Vitus’
dance; but, like all mysteries they are simple
and significant—after you ■ comprehend them.
The only one I recollect requiring no explana
tion. is that for the Sioux Indians: drawing a
Unger across the throat like a knife. It is an
apt and epigratio delineation of the character of
that bloody tribe. The sign for the Arapahoes
describes their thin, sharp noses: that for the
Camanohes, the bird liku ngjjity of their move
ments : that for fenm'cs, their long, flowing
tresses; and that for the white man the hat on
his forehead. AH Indian languages are so ira-
Perfect that when two members of the same
tribe converse, half Ihejnlcrconrse is carried on
by signs. Mountain men often become so ac
customed to this that even when talking in
their mother tongue, upon the most abstract
subjects, their hands and iheiranus wilt par
ticipate in the conversation.
“LITTLE BAVBN."
The best specimen of the Indian I have met
is the chief of tho Arrapahnes. He was origi
nally called ‘ The Shield :’’ but his present ap
pellation is “the Little Raven,’’ for the Indian
“OUR. COUNTRY —MAY IT ALWAYS, BE RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OB WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.”
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST. 25, 1859.
seldom retains, through life the name given him
in infancy. Whenever- in bailie -lib kills his
enemy, or iven strikes at him with his toma
hawk, he may throw aside his old name and
adopt any other which pleases his- fancy, pro
vided he tnenlionsll at that moment.. Little
Raven has a tine lonn and humane lace; you
would select him from among a huiidrtd of his
stolid and .treacherous-looking, brei'h,bra; as an
Indian who cou-d be timed. To-spe.nd an
hour in my cabin is his custom often of an af
ternoon ; and though his enure ignorance of
English is only equmed by my utter : ignorauoe
of Arrapahoe, we hold sweet communion to
ge-ber! Of course it is an honor vouchsafed m
few'huiuan beings to- receive daily! visits from
one of the wor.d's absolute monar'tihs: Out i
endeavor nut to be made Taln'of it ! Our con
versations—carried: on by signs, and rfhe dozen
ly ludicrous,.if literally
all. We.usually, by some menus, make each
other comprehend; hut two or tfiiee tunes we
have becoiiie-rio-.use a . stage colkiquia-ism—
hopelessly stuck. In such cases', my visitor 1
sends for one-;Left Hai‘id,”a linguist; for as
Day.& Marlin kept a poet, even so.Uic chief of
the 'Arapahoes maintains an imerpreier. Left
Huud.speaUs English-fluently, haying ucquutd
it from the traders in boyhood;. and soon ex-1
tncatfs us froin our trouble. ,
A CONVERSATION WITH TOE iJniEP.
The litllu Raven enters my domicil; salutes
me with u cordial grunt dud a shake of ihe
hand. 1 p ace hnli in the omy chair the cabin
uflljrds, perching myse f. upon llie table; fill
his long pipe wuh Virginia tobacco ; light a:
cigar on my account, and then ensiles a period
of so cum and smoky silence. Aijr occasional
remark is vein di ed, about ihe c'ljDijs,’' Pthe’
weather. the mines; &0.-: gradually* we become
communicative, and at last familiar. The lla ■
ven studies one of my maps with much curiosi
ty and attention ; finally fo.ds it add begins in
terrogating me: ■
. How, many squawa and pappflofes, have I?
Iluinl ily and truth compe- me to describe the
number of ech by the.smallest numeral. He
exuitingiy assures uie.lhat he is the happy hus
band 6l seven squaws and the proud father of
Ten pappooses. The comparison isjpdious; he
'evidently.feels- his social siiiiUs to
mine.- ' '
How many horses have I? Sprrowfuly I
adim' ihai I can lay'claim to no solitary piece
ol horse flesh. Theßaven answers triumphant
ly by pointing to. his thirty sleek ponies grazing
on the adducent prairie; As , one's-Wculih and
position in Arapahoe eyes depends upon'the
number of his Wives'and horses, I feel i bat the
Raven is bepomiiig decidedly personal and in
ferenlially abusive. So I place hihji. in the wit
ness bos, and become quesiioner mysef.
HoW'many revolvers has,he? He shrugs up
his shoulders, and describes the ndniber by a
cypher. I,produce one ot" new
patent —which he examines with (jteat curiosity
and .admiration : ■ handles caiitioiijly. as if it
were an infernal machine: and sMws n child
ish satisfaction not nnmingled Vr’Ulr'error. as
I discharge the five barrels in rapidsuccessitm.
'pow.bittcli, he yen 1 tires,to ask
spi'Cf ror tlle in
fodinniiS,moved, by • the or
raiberV the almighty half dollar; for that is the
only denomination of specie in wtycbi'lio. will
receive payments.
..■ VI fo low n |i niy advantage. How many loco
motives has he ? A mournful shitktf of the head
is. his response: and as! convey to him such
crude ideas as I may. of the fiery, untiring
monster, which will carry me further during
one sleep (day) than his Uee est horse.can hear
him in len. he -exhibits intense interest: and
signifies that he has heard of the monster be
fore, but never saw him. The impression left
upon his mind, that 1 am the personal and in
dividual owner of-several of these monsters. I
am careful not to-dissipate: and thereafter he
treats me with the profound deference due a
big Injun.” and a fit associate, for.the Ara
pahoe King. .
Of the mines he remarks that the gold all be
longs to him. being found upon-his land. But
he is glad to have the white man obtain it; and
is confident that the great father at Washing
ton Will see him ..fully paid. Toward the bad
while men. who supply hiS-.people with whis
key, he expresses great indignation.’sAtid so
the topics of the day bein§' exhaiistcd.-thu Ra
ven, with another., cordipl- hand-shaking, de
parts.
Seeking'-the Ravelin lik own village a few
days ago. I was, informed that he was. just
then, not at home to visitors. A low lodge of
hoops, covered with several iliicknesses of buf
falo robes, was pointed out ns containing him
and several of Ids braves -Two }Oting Indians
seemed'to be guarding it against intrusion, —
Though the day. was intensely hot. not an aper
ture was left.open to admit a breath of air. A
few yards distant, a Utile rnoynd of fresh earth
a tom high, had been constructed,.and,the skin
of a wolf, and the head and horns of a buffalo
deposited caiefully upon it. In a few mutuums
a robe of the lodge was lifted, and. one by one.
seven or eight male- Indians, and two or three
females—all in a state of complete nudity and
most profuse perspiration— emerged from it, and
each apart from the other threw tlwrpselvw
upon the grouud in ah adjacent grpvfe, appa
rently in a condition of helpless exhaustion.—r
The cause was evident. They had been intern
sifving, the great’ warmth of the day, by spen
ding cnnsiderablc time in the close apartment,
with several,large heated stones, upon which,
at intervals, they poured water! One inform
ant assure me that they were propitiating their
“medicine” before geing to battle: another,
that they were merely taking a vabor-batn. for
its hygienic effects! . , .
During the following nigh*, a large party
of Indians of both sexes paraded the town, pau
Sing before many of the houses to drum for a
few iSiomentS'Upon ft large, circular piece o!
hide, stretched over a wooden frame, cnaunttng
in accompaniment a strange, wierd-like refrain.
Early the next morning the braves went out on
« warlike expedition against the “Utes, and
this ceremony was said to be merely an jnvoca
tinn to the whiles, to protect their squaws and
children during iheir absence.
THE ACTUAL INDIAN.
It requires little miercouso with the race, to
eradicate one’s youthful belief in the noble, the
heroic, or the -poetic Indian., As a class, the
savages are stolid, cruel and treacherous. Old
mountain and plains men declare that they are
“cowards on instinct {".that they arc wholly
devoid Of that Soxon pluck, which marches up
to' o fair and square.. face-to face encounter:
and never attack even Indians except from am
bush. or at some great advantage. John Ran
dolph’s terrible denunciation of the Mexicans—
“'a blanketed nation of thieves and harlots
is, in the main* applicable to them.
The A rapahoes receive $50,000 per annum
from our government for the V right of way
taken tyuneofihe great thoroughfares through
their domain. For Dr. Fox, the Agent of the
Express Company at Denver, they entertain the
most profound respect. From the numerous,
mules and oxen daily arriving at his office, and
constantly under his charge they deem him a
mighty chief* of enormous possessions ! Many
PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.
m iMteer.
' of\the braves are disfigured with scars—the re
°suits of hideous wounds, received In battle.—
With both sexes the’ teeth are beautiful and
well preserved, their diet being comparatively
i free from acids, spices, snchnrinc matter, and
: great extremes of heat and cold. : Likc all the
I tribes, the Arapahoesare thoroughly migrato
ry ; however permanently they may appear at
, any point, they require the notice of but a few
minutes, to remove all vestiges of their village
— s°
“ To strike their tents like the Arabs,
And as quietly steal away.?’
They convey their lodge-poles by strapping
one end to their ponies, like wagon shafts, lea
ving the other to. drag upon the ground. The
young children are conveyed in baskets suspen
ded from thesepolcs. The females ride astride
like the men. .
-HABITS:
. The iiticr degredaiion of theTndinna is evinc
ed bvjtheir diet, Often, when wholesome food
is comparatively plenty, they devour the en
| trails of animals without cleansing. I have
seen Arapahoe women and children eat, with
every indication of relish, vermin freshly pluck
ed from their heads! The pracioe is said to
be common among them and several other tribes
One who partakes of an Indian repast needs
I the moral courage to ask no questions.”
FEMALES-
The males, a's is well known, are invariably
indolent; they woo'd sooner starve than labor.
The squaws possess the single redeeming quid
ity of industry ; they are patient and cheerful
workers: they perform all the manual labor,
and still find much time to make moccasins of
deerskin, sewing them with the sinews of some
animal, and adorning them wiih beads. The
Sioux, wotiieh are extremely expert at this; their
moccasins, pouches, belts, etc ; are tasty and
attractive, and sell readily among the whbes v
Female virtue seems to be entirely unknown
among the most of the Indian tribes The girls,
are usually sold. by their parents, at an early
age.- to members of their own race, officers or
soldiers at .The military posts, or traders and
trappeis upon the plains. The horse is the or
dinary currency, and .one animal is the usual
price ; but in cases of beauty, rare accomplish
ment. or aristocratic lineage, four or five are
sometimes demanded. The relations thus form
ed are seldom or never permanent, and polvga
my is universal. The instinct of virtue seems
utterly destroyed : disastrous results follow, and
loathsome forms of disease are common.,
•‘PASSING AWAY.” ' ' *
The average decrease of all the Indian tribes
within the jurisdicdiction of; the United Stales
is upwards of five per cent aycar; and I think
the Arapahoes are diminishing in a still gieater
ratio, They now number some 300 lodges—
life only method by which Indians enumerate
themselves—averaging about four persons to
Ihe lodge In a few years they will piobabiy
add another to the number of once large tribes
now utterly extinct. . -
Denvuii Citv,.K, T., June, 1859.
“Let.,mo die tyuiclly.”
, BftsUllrtmake no-moise—let me die quiet
ru: - ™---'
* Theiioiir of the,soul s ciepart
handearth,isTadipg Viqm 'its vision.
'•Time'll gliding from its present! Hopes that
Cluster around young life, that swell in the bo
som of-manhood, have f lien from around it like
the forest; leaves, when- the fiostsol. autumn
have chilleu iheiu unto death. 'Ambition.' wnh
'its hollow promises, and pride, with its lofty
look, have vanished away. The. world, wi h
ns deceiilulness j pleasure, with its gilded temp
tations, are gone; and alone, in utter dcstruc
lion of all that time promised, it must start on
its solemn journey across the valley of the sha
dow of death!
“Make no noise!” Let the tumult of life
cease. Lei no sound break ihe soul's coinmu
nion with itself, ere it starts on its returnless
flight. • Trouble it not with accents of sorrow.
Let the tear stand still on the cheek of affee
tion, and lei, not the wailing of grief break the
solemn silence of the death scene. Let it gath
er the accents that,. come from wi.tlnri ihe dark
shadow of eternity, saying to it, come home. —
A fur oil the music came floating to it in the air
'Tis ihe sound of heavenly harps touched by
viewless fingers; Mar not the harmony by the.
discord of earih.
•" Let me die quietly!" . The commotions of
life, the slife and warring wiih human des.iny.
are Over. Weal th 'accumulated niiisf be scat
lered; honors won must be resigned : and all
the triumphs that come within the range onin
nian achievements must be thrown away. The
past, with its trials, its transgressions, its ac
cumulated responsibilities, its clinging memo
ries, its vanished hopes, is rendering up to the
future account; disturb not Hie quiet of 'that
awful reckoning Speak not of fading memo
ties, of affections whose objects perish in their
loveliness, like the (lowers of spring, or wither
in a slow- decay! Talk not of oil early home
where loved ones linger! where a seat will soon
he viicaqi.. a cherished voice hushed forever, or
pf the desolation that will seal itself by the
hcarlhstone. The soul is at peace with God :
let it pass calmly away. Heaven is opening
upon its vision. The bright tnriets, the tall
spires,'the holy.denies of the Eternal City are
emerging frnin the spectral darkness, and ihe
glory of the Most High is dawning around them.
The white throne is glistening in the distance,
and the white robed angels are beckoning the
weary spirit to its everlasting home.
What is life that it should be clung 10 lon
ger ? Wh’at are the joys of the world that they
should be regret led ? What has earth to p'nce
before the spirit of a man to tempt its slay or
turn it from its eternal rest 1— Register.
Duelling.—When Judge Thatcher Was
many years ago, member of Congress from
Massachusetts, he was challenged to a duel by
Mr. B'ount, member from North Carolina, for
Words spoken in debate.' ; The Judge, on read
ing the message from Blount,.after adjusting
his wig and revolutionary hat. said to the bear
er—'’Give my.respectful compliments to Mr.
Blount, and tell him' he cannot have a definite
answer to his note to day. Let him be patient
a short lime, : till I can Write to* Portland, and
receive an answer. . 1 always consult my wife
on matters of importance , well knowing that
she is a better judge of family affairs than my
self. If she consents to take the choice of be
coming a widow, or haying her husband hanged
for murder, I will certainly fight Mr. Blount.
Tell him not to be in a hurry : it will not take
more than three weeks to receive her election.
(C - Wc have all heard of asking for bread
and receiving" a stone ; but a young gentleman
may be considered as "'still worse treated when
he asks fora -young lady’s hand and gets her
father’s fo*ot.
[An Irish postboy, having driven a gentle
man a long stage during torrents ol ram, the
gentleman said to him, M Paddv. are you not
very wet?’* “No, please your honor, I’m
very dry.” .
Hi?* A gentleman asked a negro if ho would
not have a pinch of snuff ** No." repl»> ~ .
darkey, respectfully, “me Uok you P i
.nose not hungry.”
AT 32,00 PER ANNUM,
no. ii.
A Thrilling Incident.
In returning from Philadelphia about the mid
dle of August. 1848, the cars were crowded, and
my companion in the same seat I found out to
be a locomotive engineer, and in the course of
our conversation, he made the remark that ho
hoped he had run his last trip upon a locomo
tive. Upon making bold to ask his reasons he
gave m* the following story, and since then' I
have found it out to he strictly true:
■* Five years since, I was running upon the
New York Central Railroad. My run was from.
B to R . It was thehghining Ex
press train, and was what its name denbtes.-for
it was fast I have seen her throw her-six feet
driver so as to be almost invisible to the eye.—
-BttHo my story, : — : ; —-
“About half a mile from the village of B
there is a nice little cottage but a few
feel from the track, At that time a young mar
ried coqpje lived there. They-had one child,
a little boy about four years old, a bright, black
eyed curly headed little chap as ever you saw.
I had taken a great interest in the little fellow,
and had thrown candy and,prangts to him from
the train, and-1 was sure to see him peeping
through the fence when my train passed.
•• One fine sunny afternoon we were behind
time and running fast; we did not-stop at B
—; . and [ was to make up one hour before
reaching R-—We came up at tremendous
speed, and when sweeping round the curve, my
eye fpl>owing the track, not 'Over two hundred
feet ahead sal the little fellow, playing'with a
kitten which lie held in his lap. At the sound
of our approach he looked up and lambed,
clapped his lit tie hands in high glee at the af
frtghtened kitten as it ran from the track.—
Quicker than the lightning Hin; b'asis the .tall
pines upon the mountain top. I whistled ‘ down
brakes’, ana reversed my engine, but knew.it
was hnpb.'sjhle to .slop. Nobly did the old.en
gine try to save him. The awful straining and
Writhing of its iron drivers told but too plainly
of the terrific velocity we had attained. I was
but,of the cab window and down on the cow
catcher m a flash. The little fellow stood still.
I motioned him oil and shouted : his little black
eves opened nude with astonishment, and a
merry laugh was lipbn his lips I held my
breath as we rushed upon him. made a desper
ate attempt to catch him, but missed, and as
the little body passed I beard the feeble cry of
' Mot her.’ and" the forward trucks crushed his
body to atoms. . ' .
•' 0. Gndi-that moment! I may live, sir, to
bo an old tttitn. but the agony of that moment
can never be erased from my memory. The
cars stopped some rnds from the spot, and I ran
back as soon as possible. ‘His mother saw Hie
train stop, and a fearful foreboding Unshed upon
heralonce. She came rushing frantically to the
spot where we stood. Never shall I forget the
look she gave, me ns she beheld ner first born a
shapeless mass. I would have given my whole
existence to have avoided that moment. T have
seen death in all its forms' upon railroads ; I
have seen men. women, and children’mangled
and killed ; T have seen all this but that little
innocent' boy. ns ho looked up into my face, and
killed' almost in my aims, unnerved, me. and
from ibatilay I made a solemn • vptyjpcyer to
run a locomotive any more.
“ That, young mother is how in -the ,Utica
-Lunatic Asylum. From the hour her boy was
killed,-reason had left its throne.’ Hestopped
and wiped the tears from his eyes, and said.
You may think it weak in me to shed tears,
bur I cannof help it." “No,” I replied, •• but
think it noble : and. sir, would to God cvery
tnan had a heart as large as yours.” ”
I have often thought since how few arc those
who give one passing thought to the than of
strong ncrVc and stout arm who gidcs them
through darkness and storms, with the speed of
the wind, safely to their journey’s end. They
do nott for a moment, turn their attention to
the iron monster that, is dragging them for
ward. with fearful Telocity, to meet friends and
relatives. They do not realize that the man
who guides the fiery monster holds their prb'
cions lives at his command, and that the least
negligence on his- part would cause sorrow and
mourning in a thousand homes that are how
waiting the return of the absent loved ones.
[ Death fkom Hydrophobia.—Wo are near
ly every sunimtT doomed lo record one or more
ol those most awful of deaths in which the King
of Terrors assumes the most appalling shape ol
hydrophobia. Some Tour weeks ago, a French
man. named Louis Laclere, a laborer, was bit
ten on the arm and wrist by a dog. About
four days ago the first symptoms of the horri
ble malady he feared began to manifest thetn
se'ves. Hs employer procured his admission
to the city hospital, where the best accredited
remedjcal measures were at once adopted in his
behalf. Despite these, he steadily grew worse.
For the most par' entirely conscious of his con.
dition. he gradually became.the helpless prey of
a senes of terrible spasms, which hopelessly
increased in intensity and frequency. Uisago
nies were ns if an internal fire were consuming
him. In calmer intervals, when wa’cr could
be offered him. he would snatch the dipper and
greedily gulp the draught, upon which a spas
molio closure of the glott s and a sense of nior
tal strangulation, ns in lock-jaw. would attack
him and bring on the fiercest features’of his
madness. He would start violently and snap
ping y at the bystanders, gifring vent, with
liorriblv contorted features, to noises reaejn*
b jog those of a furious dog. The spectacle is
described as heart rending and shocking in the
extreme, until death released him from his tor
lures ou Sunday night. ,
St. Louis. Missouri, Democrat
Kicn Sobnb in Real I.ipsl -The Washing
lon Star.'■ay* that the officials in the gallery of
llio Pnlertt Office were favored with a scene I ha>
seldom occurs in that quiet matter of fact lo
cality., It appears that an employee; in the Pa
tent Office galleries wrote a note to a lady invl
tfpg her to meet liim at three d’ciock at the Pa'
tent Office. Bv some means this note fell into
the bUnds of the husband, who. arming himself
with a stout pair of tinner’s shears, proceeded
to the Pa'ent office with the supposed intent of
geetting satisfaction by culling oil the gay Lo
thario's ears, or shearing him in some disagree
able manner. Gay Ln'hario. however, saw in
furiated husband ere he reached him and took
to his heels. Infuriated' husband followed in
sharp pursuit, and the race that then and there
came off up and down those galleries was a
sight to see- But Lothario, by sharp dodging,
managed to escape the avenging shears, and
the husband was compelled to forego his satis
faction;
[£y» At a negro celebration, lately, an Irish
man stood listening to the colored speaker expa
tiating upon government and freedom, an
"somebody Midi ‘ lie is"’ l a n'egro-hd is only
HP a half
nagar can talk in that style. I m thinking a
whole nagar might bale the prophet Jeremiah 1
Elopement of ,a Preacher with Shother
Preaflicr’S Wifo.
The Toronto {Canada) Patriot of August 3d,
gives the particulars of tho elopement of tho
nu V ' l ’ Humphreys, a minister pf the Free:,
Church of Scotland, with the wife of the Rev,
ur. Cummings of the same church. The par* «•
ties resided at Cheltenham, England, Where
Humphreys was the Principal of ihe.Grammar
School. He had recently asked tho protection
of ihe Insolvent Court to save himself from ar
rest. On the morning of his'departure from
home, he borrowed his wife’s watch and all tho
money she had, on ihe pretext that, he was go
ing to Derbyshire to procure money Of bis
friends to assist in his defence in the Insolvent
Court. lie wrote to his wife from Liverpool,
stating that he had been gfeviously di-nppoint
ed in not getting the money, and that he must
bo absent from yheUenham some days. On
the very morning sh which Mrs. Humphreys
received this letter, she received another from
the friends to whom-he had gone, asking her
and her husband to spc’rtd the holidays at their
house. Being thus undeceived, she followed
him to Liverpool, and on arriving there learned
that he had taken passage, for America under
an assumed name, having the aforesaid Mrs.
Cummings for his companion who had joined,
him there. Humphreys had been for some
time forwarding a large quantity of baggage to,
Liverpool, and for some weeks previous lb his
leaving home he had. been getting together all
the money he could in anticipation of his de
parture; He left his wife and six chi'tirtn
without the s'ightcst means of support. ‘Mrs.
Cummings also left eight children, an affection- ■
ate hit-band, and all the comforts which wealth
could bestow. Dr. Cummings was Humphrey’s
. .principal. creditor. - ThogntUy ennt) ! c on ar- — ;
■riving iu.ibis country.’ went to Albahy, and af
ter stopping there, a short time proceeded to
I oronto, where they have taken up their abode.
After their shameful flight from EnglancL.thd
friends of Mrs. Cummings despatched a com
munication to Ihe head of the New York police,
advising the arrest of rhe' Doctor, arid giving
a'l necessary iitfot mation for that purpose. A
detective of this city was then iJespatched to
hunt the Doctor up, and succeeded ..in tracing
him and his paramour to Toronto.' tho
detective left a photograph of the Doctor with a
Mr. Greaves, of'the Toronto police, who soon
after encountered the couple on the street.—
They wore at length traced to their .
Subsequently, officer Greaves served the gui)ty.
pair with ci aliens from the High Conk of Di
vorce in England. Sirs. Cummings refuses to (
return to England, and declares her intention to
remain with the failhlcsk Doctor. ’ . .
New Xortc Paper,
' Children' Playing ou a EaHrofld Tracfi. .
* % , j.
A painful accident happened recently on tho
Bloomsburg (Pa.) Railroad, near the Bellevue
mines. Two waddling innocents, less than
three years old. were playing tin the track just
above the curve, when a coal train glided in
sight Paralyzed with fear, they stood still,
one throwing its little arms about’ the olher’ff
neck. They were thrown down in the middle
of the traoki , Had they known enough to keep
perfectly still they might have escapcd.nnin
jit red : but they struggled j-epeateijly, to rise,
and were knocked down, by the axles of tho
passing cars. In their efforts to crawl from be-;
neat It the moving cars they: threw their bands
and amis across the rail, which, singular to re
late. were several times saved by Mr. John
Bound and his broth'er.’who, with a presenceof
mind and excellence of feeling worthy of ,'eter-.
mil remembrance, had sprung front, the,train to
save them, if possible, and stood by throwing
their limbs off the track'at the imminent risk
of their own. They made a narrow escape as
it was. John having his coat sleeve cut by one
of the axles. Unfortunately, their efforts Were
not successful. - One of the little things lost its
toes, and the oilier a teg, and both were con
siderably braised. The latter has since died.
The train was moving a'owly at the lime, or
instant death would have followedtlic first blow!
. .... I’ll Folc for.the ,oilier Mari.. , .■.
The'foltou'ingsforyfstold'of
soldier, who was rnn.ntog.for OoDgrijaif,
It appears that he was opppOTd -by.i;innc&'
younger man, who hud never “ been tovfhp/.
wars,” and it was the Wont of Revolutionary tp
toll tho people oi the hardships be endured.— 1
Says he:
“Fellow citizens, I have fought anti h r ed for
my country—l helped to whip Hip Bjith-li and
Indians. I have s’lept on (he field of haltli- with',
no other covering than Hie canopy of ;ln.a>i'n.
I have walked over frozen ground till evi ty
footstep was marked with, blood.” _
. Just about this time, one of the “sovereigns,”,
who had become very much affected by this
falo of woo, walks up. in front of tho speaker,
wiping the teats from his eyes with the extre-’
unity of his short coat-tail, and interrupting
hiln„says: !, i
“ Did you say that you had fought the Brit
ish and the Injins 7”
“ Yes,” responded Revolutionary.
“ Did you, say that yon had, slept on tho
ground, while serving yoitr country,, without
any kiver 7” ,
“ Yes, sir; I did.”
“ Did you, say you had followed tlio enemy
of your country over frozen ground till every
footstep wnS covered frith blood ?”
“ yes,” exultingly replied Revolutionary.,
.« Well, then.” say? the tearful ‘(sovereign,”
as ho gave a sign of painful enmlj'nn, c - I’ll bo
blamed if I don’t think you’ve done enough for
your country, and Vll vote for the other man *”
The Revenues op Navolkos lII.—An cdito
rittl signed “ C.” and wo suppose from Caleb
Cushing, in the Boston traveller, concludes :
“Napoleon, by the actual aid of Great Bri
tain, has balanced the Russian success of Mos
cow by the reduction of Sebastopol. flo has,
with the passive countenance of Great Britain,
balanced the Amtridn occupation of Paris by
(lie victory of Solferino. The debt to Prussia
remains to bo paid otf; but above all that to
Grout Britain. Trafalgar and Waterloo aro ;
memories of rage and dhnfrte in IliohearlS 01 all
Frenchmen, and especially of ail Bnhapuftes.—
And, if in this respect, the turn ol Great Britain
is to conic, slie will only have herself to thank,,
for the present poweifiil and proud position of
Loiiis Napoleon, is tier work quite ns much ns .
that ol his own genius. Certain we may bo,
that if this great drama of tlimSycond Empire,
the Fourth and Filfh and greatest ot its acts arc
yet to come.”
Manseks.— Voung folks ahotild be mannerly,
but bow to be lit the question. Many good boys
and girls feel fli'at they Cannot behave tb suit
theniaulves in fho presence Of company. They
afe awkward, clownish, rough. They feel lira
id, bashful, and self.distrustful, the moment they
are addressed by a stranger, or appear in com
pany. There is but one way to get over this
feeling, and acquire easy arid graceful manners,
that is, to do tho best they can all the time at
borne us well as abroad. Good manners aro not
learned so much hs acquired by habit. They
grow upon ns by uso, Wo must bo courteous,
agreeable, civil, kind, gentlemanly, and wo
manly at home, and then it will become a kind
of second nature everywhere. A.coarso, rough
manner at homo, begets a habit of roughness
which we cannot lay off if wo try, when wo go
among strangers. Tho most agreeable persona
we have over known in company, are those that
uro moat agreeable at home. Homo is fho school
for all the best things. ,
K - A School master, ns a to one
of his pupils for using profane
cd him to lake a pair of tongs and watch a hole
in the hearth until he had caught a moose.
The boy took tbo-ongs and demurely waited
for the visitor. Directly after ho saw a momSo
Xing out of the hole. Cautiously placing a
leg of the longs on either side of the hole, ho
grasped the mouse, and triumphantly winging
t aloft, exclaimed. “By G—d I’ve got him.
{£7* An Irishman, going to bo hanged, beg
▼ed that the rope might be tied under bw arms
instead of round his throat, for,” said Pat, I
am so remarkably ticklish in the throat, that
if tied there I’ll certainly kill myself with laugh
ter.”