1 111111 ..:(' -' ‘1:;'•; - : ~.:.:: i:-?-t - - ::: - .:,: , , .. .. ..: . . . _ ,__ ~ _ es ',: . ..,...• . • . . .:.:. . .• • . .... ... ... .... .• , . . •. •:: IL tr MA . . ... , • • . ~.... ~, . ..:., „.; f... .„. ...• A _. ~ .1 . ..... -,.. . . ~.. 4 SANITEL - WIriGHT, Editor and Proprietor. 'VOLUME XXIX, NUMBER 45.] PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDIY MORNING Office in Carpet Hall, South-west corner of ....Front and Locust streets. `Terms of Subscription. 'Gee Copyperannum,if paid in advance, 1.4 •I if not puid withinthree monthstromcommencementof the year, 200 .. Ooasts 11 C3c+l=) - 37 - . No subseriptton received for a less time than six .montlts; and no puper will be discontinued until all arrearagesare paid,unleseut the optionof the pub .isher. ll:7•lVloneymayberemittedb ymail atthepublish er's risk. Rates of Advertising.. * square [alines] one week, •• three weeks, each ‘uhsequentinsertion, 10 [ltines] one week. 50 three weeks, I 00 tt each subdequentinsertion. 25 L a rgeradvertisementrin proportion. A I iberaldiscount will be mode to quarterly,holf. early oryetirly.tdvertisers,who are strietlyconfined o their business. Hutrg. To a Coquette. Lady, vrould'st thou learn of me Love's designing witchery? Listen, I have learned of thee:— Choose the youth whom thou would'st win, Woo him with thine eyes' sweet sin,— Wherefore wait till he begin? If he ask thy hand to dance, Yield thou with a dazzled glance,— Talk to him of old romance. Let thy voice be tow and meek, That he scarce may hear thee speak,— Listening, be may touch thy cheek. Feign a sad unhappiness, Something thou merit not confess,— Sympathy may soothe distress. Tell of walks by soft moonlight,— Should he say,"wilt walk to•night?" Start half wishful, half in fright. him into window•nooks, Flatter him with fervid looks, Lean with him o'er pictured book: Languish if he stny away, "Aye be with me,” seem to any,— Man will never any thee nay. Dear, deceitful strategy: Cupid's slyest archery! Thus may hearts ensnared be gatttitoto. The Hanging Guest A RUSSIAN STORY. Two versts from W—a, upon an emi nence between a wood, a morass, and a riv er, at some distance from the high road, stands a wooden country house, with a green and antiquated roof. Here usually throughout the summer, and sometimes, too, in autumn, resides Gaurilla Michailo witch P., a retired captain, and at present district justice, a very worthy man, as are all district-justices in the W—a depart ment. Early one Sunday morning, in the month of August,—, his worship Gaurilla Michail owitch, with his honored lady, Parskovya Vegerovan, set out for the city in a hritsch ka, to transact sundry urgent matters of business, viz: to go to church, to drink with his reverence and prototype, to eat and be convivial with the district attorney, to hear the town news from the commandant's lady, to read the St. Petersburg papers at the district treasurer's and to play bcston at the governor's. Scarcely had the master and mistress driven from their door, when all the servants followed their example and quitted the house. The butler went to see his cousin in the village; the cook betook himself to the public-house; the cook•maid to the river to catch crawfish; Prochor and Dania went nutting in the wood; Vaska and Matasba strayed to the heath to gather cranberries, &e.; Duna alone remained in the house. Duna, the pearl of the whole W—a department, a sprightly, virtuous damsel; by her calling a housemaid; by her natural good qualities the favorite of her mistress; for whose sake the governor's valet—who, like herself, had been brought up in the great world in the Neva ka Perspective—neglected the polishing of his master's boots; to the great scandal and indignation of the whole provincial admin istration; none but he could appreciate her feelings; none but she could duly estimate the graces of his deportment. They mu tually adored each other, as only hearts can adore that have taken fire by the Kasan bridge in St. Petersburg, and they were as happy as none can be but in the country. Girls shut up in a. house by themselves are always afraid of thieves. Dunn, there fore, carefully fastened the outer doors, and .to avoid thinking of thieves, she went to ook at herself in the glass while she waited for the valet, whom she had given to under stand that her master and mistress were to _spend tits wbolo dat in the town. In the / pleasantest possible mood, Duna arranged iher curls, set her kerchief in order, tight ,ened her girdle, and hummed a tune, when suddenly there was a gentle tap at the door. -"That is he!" and like an arrow, she flew and opened it to let him in. "Ali! it is not 'del" "I am your man," replied a deep, husky voice, as there cautiously entered through the open door a big-built fellow, in a tat tered frieze cloak 4nd faded cap, with a swarthy face much in want of the barber's office, terribly foxy mustaohes, a dusky red nose, and a scarlet forehead, blue lips, and blood-thirsty eyes; the very type of the chairman of a city pot•house, or one of those figures that are only to be seen in one of Salvator Rosa's paintings. The astonished Dzina recoiled some steps, and repeated with a.sigh from the bottom of her heart, !It is not he!" 3leanwhilo the stranger had stepped in, and with the utmost coolness closed the door again, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. "What do you want? Who are you?" cried Duna. "Why do you put the key in to your pocket?" "Don't be alarmed, my little dear," ho said, smiling. "I am come to pay you a visit. The time must have hung heavily on your hands, all alone here." "Not at all. But what do you mean by pocketing the key?" Instead of answering, he went up to her, and patted her on the cheek. Sho sprang from him. $1 50 Mil "Why do you lock the door? Give me the key or I will cry ont." "That will do you no good. I know very well there is no one in the house." "A pretty thing indeed! Come in with out 'With your leave' or 'By your leave,' and lock the door as if you were in your own house!" "I always lock the door when I have the luck to be •with so pretty a girl as you," and once more ho patted her cheek with his coarse, dirty hand. The angry Duna re- treated into a corner. "But who are you? It is very unhand some, so it is, to make fun of a girl, and tease her so without any acquaintance." "I never visit acquaintances," he replied, with an altered look, and a tone that froze the poor girl's blood. In every ante-chamber and chancery office Duna bore the reputation of a girl of spirit. She was no easy conquest. Many a pre sumptuous clerk had felt the print of her nails in his face to that degree that he was not likely to forgot it, though ho should live to be a master in chancery. Duna, in fact, did honor to St. Petersburg. But a bashful provincial chancery clerk, with his inky fingers, is a trifle to a girl who has been brought up in the best milliner's shop in the Nevska Prospective; an unshaved, broad shouldered, ugly vagabond, in a frieze cloak, with red mustaches and a violet nose, is quite a different sort of thing, and enough to frighten anybody. Duna began to cry. "Don't cry my ltttle duckl I won't do you any harm," be said, in a softer tone, as ho drew near her. Now, this softer tone alarmed her even more and she involunta rily stretched out her arms to keep him off. "Who are you, I say?" she cried in des pair, but with an assumption of courage, with a fire that was gradually extinguished by her gushing tears. "You shall tell me on the spot who you are?" "Who I am?" "Ycs, who arc you? Your calling and your name?" "I am a thief" "A thief!" she echoed, falteringly, turn ing white as BMW. "I am a thief by name, and a robber by station," he said, with a smile and looking tenderly into her blue eyes; but the smile on his face resembled the ghastly glimmer ing of the moon upon the fuul waters of the morass. Duna was terrified (not at the phrase, but at the smile,) and a cold tremor ran through her frame; but seeing that her visi tor was making sport of her uneasiness, she rallied herself a little, and cried out hur riedly, but with a tremulous voice: "A rob ber? Poh! what a horrid life!" "Every man to his calling. I bad an other once; but pow, I say, my pretty lass, give me something to eat. I have not put a bit in my mouth these three days. We will breakfast together, and then—" With a sudden gesture he threw his arms around her neck. The sight of his bristly chin and formidable mustaches charging so fiercely upon her, the sight of his ugly red nose that nearly touched her cheek, put her in a downright passion; and with the strength that makes heroes of us in mo ments of extreme peril, she pushed the au dacious fellow back. "Hands off, if you please, Mr. Robber! I'd thank you not to frighten me for'noth ing. I know what you are come for," "You know, do you? Wall, what is it, then?" "Old I know very well; but allow mo to tell you it is a very groat shame. 1 will have you up for it. Give me back the key this moment, and bo off." "Some breakfast," growled the stranger. "I have no breakfast for you; there is nothing to eat in the whole house. Go breakfast in the public house, if you have a mind. By the same token you smell of brandy enough to knock one backward; I dare say you have made a very good break fast already." "What! nothing to eat?" he muttered, knitting his brow, and bending a penetrat ing glance on the girl as he put his right hand down towards his boot. "De you see this?" said he, showing her a broad-bladed knife with small speckles, traces of recently shed blood he had somewhere hastily wiped off op the grass. "I have no time to joke with you." t Poor Duna stared with open eyes, and seemingly petrified by his basilisk glances. "Breakfast!" he shouted. "Immediately." "Be quick; I have no time to lose." "Take whatever you please; there is some roast meat of yesterday in the cup board,: "Show me into the parlor, put everything you have got on the table, and stir your self." Pale and bewildered she tottored to the cupboard in the ante-chamber. lie stuck "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOP. ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, JUNE 4, 1859. the knife in his boot and followed her step by step. Bread, brandy, salt, butter, cheese and cold roast veal, were placed on the same table where the proprietors of the house had recently breakfasted, before setting out for town. He seated himself, seized Duna's arm, and forced her down beside him.— "Well, I say," said he, bolting the fat veal with ravenous voracity, and squinting side ways at his companion, "I gave you a jolly start, did'nt I!" "I believe you did! I wonder who would not be frightened so!" "You did wrong to stand out against me. If you had done what I wanted at once— Your health. Drink a little drop to keep me company." "I never touch brandy." "That's a pity; it's capital brandy.— What's your name?" "Catherine Nicola." "That's a lie," he said, with a mouthful, and scowling on her; "I know your name is Avdotya Yeremeyovna." "Then why do you ask if you know?" "To try your candor. Capital brandy, to be sure; is there any more of it!" "There's another bottle in the pipboard." "Have the goodness to bring it here." "There it is." "Thank you. By your leave I'll give you a kiss for it." Duna no longer dared to resist; she sub mitted with the best grace she could to the rude kiss, contenting herself with wiping the place where his sharp beard had scratched the skin till it almost bled. "To let you see that I am up to a thing or two," he went on, after he had gulped his third glass of brandy, "I will tell you that a clerk brought your master 1,500 ru bles yesterday from Ivanovitch F., whose case was brought last week before the dis trict court. Is not that true?" "May be so." "Well, where does your master keep his money?" "Really I do not know." "But I do; we shall soon find it. Ardot pa Yeromeyer•na, my pet, my darling!" "What is your pleasure?" "I wish you would be sociable?" Poor Duna was forced to make a show of being sociable. The guest was in the hap piest humor; be laughed and joked with her. Duna gradually forgot her terrors, grew bolder, defended herself becomingly, nay, laughed aloud, and endeavored to disguise her intense anxiety under a show of cheer fulness, while in secret she prayed fervently to heaven that the red-nosed guest might soon eat and drink his fill, and take his leave, and the incomparable Ivan might soon arrive to indemnify her sensitive heart for this fearful torment. Alas! Ivan, who had got leave from the governor, left the town, and sped with hasty steps, and a heart brim full of tenderness and hope, to meet her. lie walked not— he flew. Cupid had fastened his own wings to his boots. lie flew like an arrow. But on his way lay a brandy shop; there is no road without them. lie would have flown by it; but in the brandy shop were his ac quaintances, his beloved friends. lie made a halt with them fur a moment, only a mo ment, and got tipsy with them. It hap pened quite against his will; he was even in despair at it. Altogether, it was ono of the most memorable victories ever achieved by Friendship over Love. Meanwhile the ugly vagabond had emp tied his sixth glass of brandy. At the sev enth he grew pensive, pursed his brows, and bit his lips as if a pang shot through his vi tals; a dark shadow passed like a cloud over his countenance; suddenly he sprang from his sent, and, without intending it pushed so strongly against his companion, that she almost fell between his feet. He looked round uneasily, took the brandy bottle, the bread and a piece of meat from the table, put them all into the fathomless pockets of his cloak, and said: "Thank you for bread and salt—your hospitality. Gau rila Michailovitch keeps his money in his secretary, eh? Why don't you speak? You see I am not such a bad fellow as you thought at first, my pretty chick. I love you—l love you so much—Just tell me what sort of death you would like to die.— Shall I cut off your head, eh? Or would you rather I should hang you—from that beam, for instance? Don't be afraid—only say what you would like beat, charming Dunn." "What pleasure can you take in plaguing me so cruelly?" said Duna, zot crediting that the ugly jester with the red nose could be in earnest. "Why don't you answer?" he said, ex amining the secretary and lock. "I should be glad to know—whether you—would rather—be hanged, or—O ho, Gaurila 11E ehailowituh keeps his money under two locks, does hot Stay a bit; it is not the first we have coaxed open." So saying, he took an iron instrument out of his pocket, and immediately began to use it upon the lock. Duna stood as if spell bound in the middle of the room, trembling in all her frame." "Well, what is it then? Speak out, Ar dotya Yeremeyerna. Can't you make up your mind? Hang the lock! Avdotya Yere mayerna, I wait your answer my precious. This is the strongest lock I've seen this many a day. Will you speak or no?" The secretary burst open with a crash. "Whoo! wbat a lot of fine things! Bank notes, and ducats, and watches! They don't go; spoiled most likely. A ring. I don't want it, Oh, I'll take these diamonds. Are these all crumbs of office?" Chatting in this fashion with himself and Duna, he crammed his pockets with money, watches, and trinkets, and then turned ab ruptly to the half dead girl: "Well, my love, your choice? waste no time; but tell me, what death will you die?" "Well, I'm sure! Aren't you ashamed, sir? It is a very ugly joke, this." "I am not joking at all, my sweet one." "What have I done to you? You 'have taken whotever you pleased; I did not hinder you." "That's very true; but do you see, I can't abide leaving eye-witnesses behind me; I wash my hands of them by all means. With others I dun't stand on ceremony; but as you, my love, are such a nice, good natured, amiable little dear, I will give you your choice of death. I love politeness—l who have been brought up in St. Peters burg." Still she would not believe that he was in earnest. "Now, then, let's have it at once: I have no time lose. Lot us put compliments aside. I am extremely sorry, but you must die by my hand. I am not going to be such a fool as to let you live to tell what sort of a moustache, eyes, nose, clothes, ike., I have got—what I did here, and which way I went. Now, Avdotya Yeremeyerna, an swer quickly." Every word of her cold-blooded torturer was a dagger•stroke to her; her whole blood, all the warm current of her life, curdled back upon her heart; her limbs grew icy cold, and floods of tears poured over her inanimate face. She tottered and fell to the floor. In her fall she caught the rob ber's foot and kissed it. "Have mercy on me!" she shrieked. "Oh, spare my life, I implore you! I swear to you, I will not say a word to any one. For tho sake of the blessed St. Nicholas—have compassion upon me! I will pray all my life for you The inexorable miscreant shook her off from his foot, kicking her in the breast. In vain she raised her imploring looks and arms toward him: in vain she sought to touch his stony heart with all that intense dispair and the clinging love for a youthful, joyous existence, could breathe into the words, the voice and tears of a helpless being. The villain, harder than granite, grew every moment more cruel and savage. Raging with impatience, he caught her by the hair, forced back her head, drew his knife from his:boot, and was about to plunge it in her throat. "Oh, oh! for the love of heaven!" sobbed the unfortunate girl, beside herself at the sight of the terrible knife; "hang mel—hang me! No bloody death! Meroy!—mercy! Hang me rather!" Ay, ay," he said, with a hideous grin; "so you can speak at last. Why did you not say so at once? I have lost a great deal of time already; still I can't refuse you the favor, for you are such a nice girl! Don't be afraid, - Duna! You shall die in the pleasantest manner. It is an ugly death, that of the knife. If I might choose myself I would rather be hanged than knouted, when my time comes. We will look about for a cord." The wretched girl, powerless in mind and body through terror, cold as ice, tremb ling and almost lifeless, submitted to all his commands. The rope was soon found, and the murderer returned with his victim to the same room where the remains of the breakfast still stood upon the table. He threatened to kill her instantly if she stirred from the spot where she stood—placed a chair on the table, and sprang nimbly upon it. Having fastened the rope round the beam, he drew the knife from his boot, cut off the projecting part of the rope, stuck the knife into the beam, and set about making a double running knot in the rope. Duna stood motionless in the middle of the room; heat and cold rushed alternately through her whole frame; sparks of fire danced before her eyes; she saw nothing; she did nothing but pray, confess her sins, commend herself to all the saints, and men tally bid farewell to all that was dear to Tier in life. "Presently, presently, my precious!" said the murderer, going on with his work; "you shall see how nicely I will hang you. I am not a new hand at the job. Do you see now, all is ready; only we must see whether the rope is strong enough. I would„not for the world you should fall to the ground and break your ribs. It is fur your own inter est and my own that—Draw the chair away from under my feet. Duna unconsciously went up to the table, and drew away the chair; while the robber held the rope fast in both hands, having slipped it over one arm up to the elbow, to convince himself of its strength by swinging on it with the whole weight of his body. "Push the table aside." Dunn did so " All right; it is a capital rope; it will hold more than you—you and me together." He now let go the rope, intending to jump to the ground. Apparently it was his purpose to startle the poor girl by - the bold and sudden leap; but the noose intend ed for her, gliding along his arm, caught him fast by the wrist. Dana's executioner had, in fact, hanged himself by the band. Though experiencing the most intense pain, be wished to conceal his critical posi tion from the girl, that she might not avail herself of it to escape. He tried to reach the imprisoned hand with his left; but the weight of his body prerentel his bringing his shoulders parallel. Suddenly he began to whirl and fling himself wildly through the air, hoping the rope would snap; but in vain! If he had but the knife in his boot he might have severed it; or, at the worst, have cut off his hand, and saved himself by flight. But unluckily for him, the knife was sticking in the beam. How was ho to got at it? He thought of one means—a desperate one—the last. He collected all his strength to shake the knife out with a powerful spring. The effort failed. The weight of his heavy frame dangling in the air by one hand only, his violent efforts, the pressure of the tight-drawn knot, occasioned the villain intense torture; the joints of his arm cracked and began to part; the blood oozed out under the rope from the lacerated skin, and trickled into the sleeve of his cloak; while that of the rest of his frame rushed from the extremities to his head. Every moment it seemed as if his arm would be torn off. He even wished that it might. His anxiety lest the pe.,; le of the house should return; his dread f being taken in this predicament; impatience, rage; the thought of his misdeeds, of his punishment all his guilty life; all this possessed his tumultuous imagination, and brought his dark soul to dispair. Cold sweat broke from his forehead. In spite of his tiger like endurance, a cry of agony burst at last from his iron bosom. Duna, petrified, and thinking of death, had hitherto looked on in idiotic indiffer ence. For a long time she did not under stand what be was doing, and made no at tempt to understand it. True, she was still standing upright like a living thing, but living she was not. The involuntary cry of the murderer waked her, however, from her trance. She saw him bleeding, as if it were half a dream: she saw blood on the floor, a hideous gaping mouth, with great mis-shaped teeth, red fiery eyes start ing from the socket; she read his anguish in his ghastly distorted features, and guessed at last what had happened. Hope animated her; she began to think of de liverance. "Avdotyal push the table nearer," said the robber, in altered, but still harsh and commanding accents, that terrified her again; and compelled her to blind obedience. Once more she lost her presence of mind, and pushed the corner of the table towards him. The villain reached it with the toes of one foot; he raised himself up a few lines. It was for him a moment of enjoy ment. Never in his whole life had be known one like it—not even after the most successful murder. His agony was loss intolerable; he drew breath again; but his left band, which be tried to use to free his right, was benumbed and powerles. The knot, too, had grown too tight; the repro bate felt that he could do no more without aid. "Avdotya Yereineyernal—kind friend!— good girl! do me the favor! jump upon the table; untie my arm—pray do! I will not kill you; I only meant to frighten you. Oh! how my head swims!" The miscreant's torture touched the kind hearted girl. The feeling of compassion not unfrequontly extinguishes in woman the thought of their own danger. That woman thinks with her heart has been said thousands of tirces since the invention of printing. In Duna's bosom compassion prevailed over fear, and stifled the voice of self-preservation. She sprang upon the table, and labored long and hard at the knot. She could not undo it. "Da me the favor, sweet, sweet Dunn! Fetch me a knife—cut the rope—l am dying with pain." The girl jumped off the table, and ran to pantry. Poor creature! she little knew the return the red-nosed guest was prepared to make for her kindness of heart. She found a knife; she hurried back; she was on the threshold of the scene of torture, when the table on which the robber rested his foot, turned over with a loud noise. He bad upset it in endeavoring to change his feet. Once more he was swinging with all his weight in the air. A piercing yell told the sudden renewal of his former tortures. Duna stopped short at the door. His hide ously distorted face struck her with invol untary horror; she thought it was Satan's own features she beheld. The sight rivited her to the spot where she stood; she shud dered, and dared not not move a step for ward. She looked round and saw a window open. The thought flashed upon her that she might avail herself of the circumstance. But he sufferee so dreadfully! How fright fully be screams! The rope must be cut. Duna advanced a few steps. That horrid gaping mouth. Duna tottered back, and mechanically unconscious of what she did she raised herself to the window•ledge, and dropped from it into the court yard. When she was in the court-yard she knew not what she had done or what she had to do. She had escaped the sight of the ferocious mouth, but not the influence of her tormentor. He had fascinated her. He was still lord of her life. Her knees trembled, she dared not withdraw from the window. "Hal you young jade" howled the miscreant, savagely; "you have done clever ly. I'd have slit your throat like a chick- en's." These words, uttered in unspeakable agony and despair, suddenly rallied the girl's energies. She ran to the gate. The $1,50 PER. YEAR. IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE monster's horrid jest had proved his horrid punishment. Could he have supposed that he tied the knot for himself? Could ho have supposed that awful moment, in which her foot bung over the grave, should be the mo ment of deliverence to the innocent, and of exemplary punishment to the guilty? Here was the finger of Providence. It is every where. It is a falsehood to maintain that vice and crime alone prosper in this world. She ran, and ran, till her strength was nigh exhausted; no one was in sight. She ran further; her breath failed; her limbs tottered; she dared not look round, lest she should again see that fearful mouth, lest she should again fall into the hands of her persecutor. Nowhere a living soul. She struggled up a rising ground. "Ah! there is our butler; add there is Vaska; and Prochci. Ab! he too is with them." He, to wit, the incomparable Ivan, the governor's valet. They worn all returning home together, careless and happy, singing love songs, cracking jokes upon their mas ters, with their caps set jauntily on one side, and tacking along the road in easy zig-zags. Duna ran towards them, pale, with staring eyes and flying hair; her neck uncovered—her wits bewildered. "Como along! quick! quick!" she screamed. "He is hanging! hanging!—the villain is hang ing! faster! faster!" "Hey, little dove of the woods," they all cried to her; "who iu hanging? Where is he hanging? Give us a kiss; Dunushka. 'Tis a merry world." "He is hanging, I tell you! Don't laugh. Run to the house. Take forks, hatchets, guns—a thief—a murderer, with great mustaches and a red nose. lEe said he would slit my throat like a chicken's—that he'd hang me!" They hastened their steps, armed them selves as well as they could, broke the house door open and went into the parlor. Tfie robber had fainted; blood streamed from his mouth and nose. They took him down and bound him. After the return of the master and mistress of the house, ho was conveyed the same evening to prison, and delivered into the hands of justice. Circuses: AND WHAT 18 DODE THEM Subsequently to visiting a theatre the other night, we met a friend to whom, in the course of a conversation, we confided the important secret of a weakness that we had for "Sports of the Arena," coupled with the confession of our just having come from enjoying the same. "We only wish, though," we remarked by way of finishing a sentence, "that they would do away with the performing ani mal." "Oh! you do wish that?" :said he, in a way that made us feel vaguely guilty of having done something wrong. "Why, yes," we resumed rather hesita tingly; "we never feel quite at ease on the subject of the orchestra, when unreliable quadrupeds, like elephants and rhinoceroses, are allowed to run loose about the ring within a few feet of the musicians' heads. There's no knowing what dangerous senti of hostility might suddenly be provoked in the minds of such beasts, against the pro ceedings of the cornet a piston, or what might be their opinion regarding a pecu- • liarly brilliant solo on the ophecleide." "Have you no other objeetion?" asked our inquisitorial acquaintance, with the same unpleasant manner as before. "Well, yes," we replied, "there's the der.- ger to the exhibitors, you know. Somej months ago, if you rem-Imber, a certain well known circus proprietor and self-styled 'Tamer of the Brute Creation' was tossed and severely injured by the 'lntelligent Mastodon,' on whose head he was endea voring to stand in a state of triumphant tableau." "I only wish it had killed him!" exclaim ed our friend, with an excitement that he never exhibits, unless under the inflence of strong emotion. "Good heavens!" cried we, "killed whom —which—what?" "Why the human brute, I mean," said he, "of course." "What!" we rejoined in a burst of indig nation, "do you mean—you sanguinary ruffian—that you wish that the thin—that is •Intelligent Mastodon'—had killed Mr. —, we should say his talented and popular trainer?" "I do, by Heaven?" replied our friend; "and what's more, if I had it in my power, I'd throw every 'Lion King' into the cage with his beasts, just at the time when the monarchs of the forest and jungle were pretty nearly hungry enough to eat each other, and not by any means in the humor to hesitate long about experimenting on the qualities of the human body as an article of food, even though it might be the body of their familiar tyrant and torturer! As it is, I'd give fifty dollars any time to see a 'talking or 'dancing' horso kick his teach er's brains out; and I'd walk as many miles to have the pleasure of watching a sagacious elephant trample into a pancake the wretch who amuses himself by driving a three-inch spike into the poor animals flesh, or by cutting him in the open month with a heavy riding-whip." "Brit you are mistaken," we be began to urge. "Do you know that all these poor animals, as you call them, are trained upon a system of tender kindness, and mild coercion only to be equalled in a first-class [WHOLE NUMBER 1,502. ladies' school, conducted on the moral suasion principle? Don't you know that the 'talking horse' is induced to ascend and descend a flight of steep stairs at the word command, entirely my means of pieces of carrot and apple; and that when he is being put through his rehersals, his master in variably locks up every whip in the place, to avoid being betrayed by sudden irrita tion, into anything like harshness towards the docile creature? Don't you know that the elephants an rhinoceroses and camels and lions and tigers, are captured when very young, and are gradually led—by be ing nursed in their keeper's laps, softly scratched behind the oars by their keeper's fingers, rewarded by good behavier with choice fruits or extra allowance of beef, and punished only with a switch that our own children would laugh at as an instru ment of torture—to regard their keeper with an absorbing affection that enables them to interpret and anxiously desire to ! execute the slightest wish their keepers may Nitertain?" We are sorry to say that at this point of the discussion, our friend suddenly explo ded into a paroxysm, powerful—not to say slightly blasphembus—denunciation of all things equstrian, acrobatic, or in any way e.unected with the circus business, de claring that every traveling phow was no better than a circulating Pandemonium, and that the daring horsemen, menagaris people, gymnastic professors, clowns, hu morists and all other persons, whatsoever. engaged therein, were so many incarnate devils. "I traveled with a circus,• once for over six months," he went on to say, as he re lapsed into his usual cool and decorous be havior; "I was infernally hard up when happened to have thrown in my way a chance for an engagement to do part of the agency business of a large concern, just starting for the West and North for the summer campaign. I bad considerable power of imagiination, and enough literary ability to write puffs and advertisements; so I accepted the situation. We hadn't been three weeks out, until I wished I had tried to get a place as light porter in a dry goods store, or something of the kind—any thing, indeed, I should have prefered to associating with the people I found myself thrown amongst. The life was a very hard one in the first place, though that I did'nt • mind. But the horrible cruelties I saw daily practised on animals and children, roused me to slack pitches of horror and indignation, that it was only by painful efforts of self-control, that I restrained myself from dashing out the brains of certain parties, whose names you are well acquainted with through the medium of gorgeous posters, with an iron tent-pin, or anything else that came to hand. There was Buggins, the excruciating jester, comic equestrian, and 'subduer of the wild denizens of the forest.' Do you know how Buggins tamed his rinoceros? Hitting the wretched beast over the head with iron bars, till they bent, was one of the mildest forms of persuasion adopted by Buggins.— Running iron goads three inches long, into the soft flesh behind the ear, was regarded by Buggins as little more than an impres sive mode of tickling the intelligent mons ter. But Buggins' great feat in the tortur ing line of business was a dextrous way he had of flicking his whip into his unwieldly victim's eye. That he regarded as a mas ter-piece of ingenious punishment, and he used to practice it even at evening perform ances, in the presence of the public." "But it must have destro} el the sight,' we exclaimed. "Of course it did," rejoined our friend; "hut it made the rhinceerous mind; and that's ull Bugg:ns, and the pious folks who won't go to a theatre, but think there is no harm in a circus, care about." "But," we ventured to say, "all were not such miscreants as Bugging." "Buggins was a paragon of friendliness and mercy, compared to Bill Jones, one of the p; oprietors," was our friend's reply.— "I recollect one morning, Jones was trying to teach a gray mare—such a pretty crea ture—to keep in the circle. She had never seen sawdust before; was a little skittish— intr actable. Over and over again did Jones lash her with a heavy whip, till you could see little streaks of blood showing up through the glossy hair of the coat. Frightened to death at siftt treatment, she jumped round just as he started her off again, and fell out of the ring. Jones rushed up to her like a demon, beat her over her head and neck with the butt end of his whip, and after wards with an iron bar as thick as your two thumbs, till she got down on her knees and whinnied fur mercy, the blood all the while bursting out of her ears, eyes and nostrils." "Good God:" we cried, "did nobody try to atop the wretch?" "Stop him! Why, his father-in-law stood by, applauding him; hounding him on with 'Give it to her, Bill! give it to her!'" "Well, not his father-in-law then; but mince that time, Bill married the daughter. Aid you should have seen that poor child trained. I have been told by those who tn.- veled with the family, that she was natu rally timid. She is considered to-day one of the most daring horsewomen in the world. Her courage was flogged into her. She was whipped up to the balancing point—lashed through every position of classic graceful ness she now assumes with so much appa rent ease. She was a pretty girl, and oc casionally there would be remonstrance]
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers