VOL. VII.
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'Ow
_ -
TEI KANSAS EMIGRANT'S &ONG
=0
Ant—Auld Lang Sync
NVe ern-s the prairie, a , of oil
The przrials cros , ed the sett,
- To of !ke the 11" e-t.: :hey the East,
The homestead of the free.
Chorus—The homestead of ihe tree. my bows,
The homestead of the free:
To ❑i.ihe the IVe , t a , they the East,
The honte-tead of the, free.
We go to rear a wall of men,
(ln Freedom': Southern line
And plan: t,e-ide the cotton tree,
The rugged Northern pine!
The rugged Northern pine, Sze
We•'re flowing from our native 111113,
A. our free river: flow ;
The of onr mother-land
i 5 on n, a. we go.
1., on IN a , we go, ike. •
NVe go to plant her coannon schools
Ott distill prairie swt.lls,
And :I've the Sahli o 11: .
ihe wild
The inu4ie of her bell..
The unt , ic of her bell, S,: c.
e the ark of
The i❑ nur
\V.. gn, iv-t !he milt of God
A 1 dn-t the Inotd of 111:11L
g to.t the fraud of man, ..S:c
nor xvhere the .=treants
Tit Cord the Ii; ii run,
: 4 ave %%lion; oltrl'ilgrim gonfalon
Sh flout therening run.
Shall limit the ' , cuing run, &c.
We':l -weep the prairie:, a: of old
I /lir lot her- -wept the :ea,
And mat;e the \Veq, a- they the East,
The home-:cad of the tree
The hotne:tead of Ihe free, e.
SQ'JANDO, IHE DIDIAN SACHEM.
A Tiue IListcrical Sketch.
EM=l
Clear-sivl,l«l anal impartial 'history
4111 C d•ty (lo justice to the 01
red men of thi, country. And when
our I.;:reat future hi•toriun shall orise
an d w ir d f o r the ta.-k, in turn
ov,:r the bloody reeords of the
alio•t innum rile conflict:, between
the n and the wl.ite, duce the
latter found a .fon thuld upon these
:lore:, 1p• will the provocations
for 0u; rreis. and hostilities, in a large
in- of cu.;es, came from th e
It i, not our purpose now to
enter at :. 1 .1 into the proof of this po
s:Com ; tve are only about. to ~ ..tl;ince at
a sio..:e incident zei an illustrtaion of
our remark.
Wiwi' 'Philip. the bold and heroic
chief_of tim Wampatio: was eli
cit...lN mini' to carry into execution his
great ijesi•in of eNtertninating . all the
white , liy a i2;eileral attack from the
very numerous tribes throughout New-
England, there was a formidable tribe
residing; about the 1114111th Of the Saco
liver, iii . .li;ine,governed by ti sachem,
or chief, ‘yliose name was Sim:ludo.
This chief had always lived on terms
of friendly intercourse with the En
glish valeta in the neighborhood, and
lichen the moiss:iiies of vi i ., •d
the ca , ierii tribes and endeziNort•d 141
draw theta itou Id , -; pthiN. ihey could
make no iinpre , :-ion rviT 111 . M11
11e tinned a Judi Cu' to all
tLrir entreatie,. coldlv rejected IlicTr
nrertnre <, and bilde them t,•11 I'l slip
the hatchet had been binied on the
bank or the Siwo, a,ud 11 , ) WZIV-Whnip
shonld he ull.Aved to di,turb the quiet
valley.
•• \Thin` 111:111 is Inv brother,"
laid Sipiande: •‘ hilla 'HI the same
\vend s , a nd paddle our canoes on the
same waters. I sit doWII at his table
and eat, with him, side I, side, and he
tr. , ' comes to my wigwam and smokes his
pipe of peace without fear. 1 carry
him venison lin- f(uld, and soft heaver
sisin for_ clothin , r, aild he gives me
*blanlitzt7;"and leitAets, and whatever I
want. Why should I raise my toma
hawk a,aiu,t my white brother? The
tree of peace i ; .rrow n albove our
Leads; let it flouri , h and no blight
come upon it; forever. If Philip is a
grt at chief. so is Squalid(); and let
him bum re how he e, - osses : I "quando':-
Pith• Tee tribes e.f Saco, anti the
.I'l . c -simile-cut, and the Aildrosccggin,
and the Kennebec; all look up to
Squandu with fear and respect, and
will in,t draw the bow while the ar
rmys of Squando remain quiet in his
quiver."
•,
• .
-
N AL
Year after year the messengers of
Philip returned with the same answer
from Squando---" the white man is my
friend; 1 will not take up the hatchet
against him."
- Squando was not only 'a powerful
sachem, but he exercised .also the
office of priest, or pow-won, and the
mysltiiies and ceremonies he practiced
helpe'd to give him great influence
over the neighboring tribes. Several
years had passed, and the restless
spirit of Philip had driven on his
great entcrprize with untiring assidu
ity. Many chiefs had joined his league,
frequent acts of hostilities had been
committed, and a dark and portentious
cloud hung over the whole of New-
England, which threatened entire de-
struction to the white inhabitants.
Still Squando remained the faithful
friend of the whites, and kept the
tribes around him in -a peaceful atti
tude, till a
.cruel and unprovoked
aggression upon his domestic happi
ness roused him to vengeance.
On a bright summer day in 1675,
Lindovah, the wife of Squando, pad
dled her light birch canoe on the
bright waters of the Saco. Her in
fant, but a few months old, was sleep
ing in soft skins on the bottom of the
canoe, while a light screen of green
loughs, arched above it, sheltered• it
from the warm "rays of the sun. It
breathed sweetly in the open and free
air of heaven, and gently rolled to the"
slight rocking of the boat, as the care
ful paddle of the mother, with regular
motion, touched the water. The joy
ous eves of Lindovah rested on her
inflint pith all - a mother's devotion;
and in a clear, soft voice, she sang:
Sleep. Iciby, sleep ;
Breathe the hrealh of morning;
I)riiil fragrance from the fre , h-hlowndower
The gcnile brow adorning.
baby, sleep;
Rocked by the flowing river,
\\ - hale for thy gentle spirit-gift.
Lindoyah thanks the giver.
Sleep; baby. sleep; A
Sect be thy rosy dreaming,
Whi 'e o'cr the flowery spirit :land
Thy blessed eyes are gleaming.
Sleep, baby, sleep;
No d , nger here is biding,
Whi e ' , oft ;thing the'green-wood bank
The ligh: canoe i glidi g.
Lindt,yah in her morning excursion
had called at one of the white settle- ,
mem , . Her babe Lad been admired,
caressed, and 'praised, and she was
returnimr home with a light heart.
She 1:4 lint about half a mile further
IT: go to re s ach the wigwam of Squando,
which stp,,i lint a few rods from the
river. Her eyes. as she was passing,,
- caught a lic:;utiful cluster of wild flow
ers:a little way up the hank.
" I will gather them," said .Lindo
vab to herself, as she turned her little
Lark canoe to the shore, "and carry
them to Squando. He has by this
time returiied from his morning hunt.
Sitinundo is a gentle, loving spirit; and
the sight of the flowers will make his
heart glad."
She drew the canoe gently up till it
rested on the sloping grass, and with
a light step ascended the bank. While
she was gathering the flowers, a couple
of giddy, - Jhoughtless sailors, wander
ing along the river shore, came to the
canoe.
Hallo, Jack," said be that was
foremost, "see that little Indian toad
lying there in the canoe."
"Yes," said Jack, "and - I saw-its
mother just now a few rods. up the
hank.''
"Cone, let', tip the canoe over,"
said "aud see the little rat swim."
"See it drowned, more like," said
Jack.
No," said Jim, "I 'll bet you a
quid of tobacco it 'll swim first rate.
All young animals swim naturally ;
and I'il bet a young Indian will swim
like a young duck. I'll try it any,
ho
With that be gave the light canoe a
whirl, and tipped the child into the
river. - At that instant, Lintloyah, who
had heard the sound of their voices,
Caine with a shriek, ru,hing down the
bank, her eyes wild ‘vith terror, and
her long hair streaming itr he wind,
and sprang eagerly towards the water.
caught-her by the arm and held
her luck with great coolness, deter
mined to take sufficient time to give
his expciiment a fair trial, Lindoyah
shrieked and . struggled, and pressed
toward the water, but the iron gripe
(lithe sailor held her fast.
The jinni rested for a moment,
motionless, with its face in the water;
and then with a few cutivuhive move
ments of it limbs began to sittli. 'But
it was nut till it had entirety • disap
peared under the 'suffice that Jhn
released his hold on the arm of Lind . -
oyah. The frantic mother leapt into
the flood, and plunged after her child.
She missed it; passed beyond it; and
coming again to the suriime, looked
around with the wildness of devair.
"A little.further down the stream,"
said Jim; "there is the wake of it;
DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF DEMOCRACY, AND THE DISSEMINATION OF MORALITY •LITERATURE, AND NEWS
COUDE'RSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, PA., OCTOBER 13, 1854.
try gain; may be you 'll fetch it next
time."
Lindoyah plunged again, and in
half a minute more came up with the
infant" in her arms. She swam with
it to the shore, and ran out upon the
bank, looking into its face with the
most painful earnestness. It had nei
ther breath nor motion. The sailors,
whO had not intended to drown the
child, now came 'toward her to offer
her assistance and try to resuscitate it ;
but Lindoyah instinctively fled from
them and ran farther up the bank.
Here she sat down' upon the bank,
and rubbe . d and chafed the babe for
some minutes, and at last it showed
signs of life. It breathed; it opened
its eyes,-and looked its mdther in the
fate. It was not till now that Lindo
riles fountain of tears was unsealed.
She hugged the child to her bosom.
wept aloud, and kissed . it over and
over again. She continued chafing it
tenderly till animation seemed suffi
ciently. restored, and then sought her
canoe and ascended the river to her"
dwelling.
Squando met her at the landing,
with his gull in his hand, and a brace
of ducks hanging over his shoulder.
An expression of painfbl anxiety
passed over his face as . he beheld the
condition of his wife and child ;
.but
no word escaped his lips. He took
the babein his arms and walked slowly
into the wigwam. Lindoyah followed,
and seated herself by his side. When
she had related to him the circum
stance of the outrage, Squalido started
from his seat and seized his rifle, and
thrust his tomahawk and scalping
knife into. his girdle.
"The white wolves shall die," said
Squando, with an expression of bitter
indignation resting upon his features.
He rushed out of the door of his wig
wam. In a moment he returned again,
and stood for the space of a minute
and looked in the face of his child.
The babe looked exhausted and feeble,
and his breathing was short and dis
tressful.
" They shall die," muttered Squan
do, as he again left the cabin, and
walked thoughtfully to the river. • He
stepped into his canoe, took his strong
paddle, and drove the light shallop
rapidly down the tide to the spot
where Lindoyah had met the sailors.
His fierce glance. pierced the woods
in every direction, but no person was
in sight. He stepped ashore. His
keen eye showed him where the canoe
had rested against the laud he traced
the steps of Lindoyah where she had
gathered the flowers, and. where she
had run in terror down the bank to
re-cue the babe. He saw and 'care
fully measured the tracks of the two
sailors where they had loitered around
the canoe, and tracked their footsteps,
through the grass and blushes, till he
came into the opening of the,garrison
house of Major Philips, near the falls.
Jack and
. Jim had seen Squanclo's
canoe descending the river, and fear
ful.of the consequences of his. resent
ment, they had tied to the garrison,
where they were secreted. Squando
went to the garrison and demanded of
Major Philips to know if the two
.sailors were there. The Major put
him off and evaded his . inquiries.
Squando related his grievances with a
stern and haughty indignation. The
Major endeavored to pacify him ; told
him Jack and Jim were to blame, had
done wrong, and when he should see
them again he would reprim::nd them
severely. Squando was far - fikn being
satisfied ; but he left the garrison and
returned toward his own cabin. As
his canoe swept round the little bend
in the river, he saw a white maiden
standitig on the bank. It was Eliza
beth \Vakely; a kind-hearted, gentle
creature of sixteen, dimghter of Mr.
John Wakely, whose humble dwelling
was within half' a mile of the wigwam
of Squando. She beckoned to him,
and he turned his canoe to land.
" Carry this little bunch of flowers
to the papoose," said the maiden, as
she placed them in his hand. A sad
smile lit up the face of Squalid°, as he
placed them in his belt. - . .
" I will do as the maiden bids rite,"
said the chief; "but the papoose is too
ill to hold the flowers, and Squalid° is
afraid before . to-morrow's sun goes
down be will go with the fading flow
ers fhp away into the spirit-land."
"I -will come round and see him
directly," said the maiden, as the
canoe shot away froni the shore..
When Squando reached his landing.
he hastened intu - the wigwam, and fas
tened his eager gaze upon the features
of his child. It had evidently faltered
during his absence. Lindoyall had
nursed it tenderly, and. dune every
thing in her power to revive it; but
the shock had been too great; the
energies of life had been too severely
taxed, and nature was giving way in
the conflict: Squ,ando was in some
degree a medicine man himself, and
ho applied such remedies as his
and experience suggested ;- and lie
called in the regular medicine man of
the tribe; but. all the applications were
of no avail ; the child continued dis
tressed, its, breathing became more
difficulti and its,strength declined.
Elizabeth Wakely, agreeably to her
promise, had arrived at the wigwam
soon after
• Squando's return, and had
mingled her sympathies with those of
the distressed - parents. She watched
over the child; sfie carried it altout in
her arras, and administered to it all
the comforts that kindn6ss could sug
gest, or circumstances could supply.
.Perceiving it to grow worse atnight,
she refused to leave 'it, but staid and
watched with the parents till morning.
Through thArst of the night the little
Sufferer.seemed , much more quiet and
feeble,-and 'gradually sunk away till
about sunrise, when it ceased to
breathe. Lindoyah hid her faCe and
wept most piteously; while S quan d o
paced his cabin floor in silence, but
evidently in deep agitation. -. The
-deepest sorrow and the highesv indig
nation were Mingled in the expression
of his features, and showed- that pas
sinus of fearful power were rousing
his spirit to action.
When all-was over, Elizabeth Wake
ly took her leave. Squando stood at
his cabin door and watched ler' as she
returned homeward till he lost sight
of her among the trees of theforest.
Whbil the simple ceremony of the
burial was over, Squando: summoned
three of his stoutest warriors before
him. •
"Go to the fort, said he, "and de
mand of Major Philips, and the white
'people there, to send Jim and Jack to
me, or they will not see Squando again
as the friend of the white men."
The warriors departed, and Squando
walked his!cabin in solitude and si
lence, waiting their return. A,t, last,
as be loOked from his cabin door, ..he
saw them Coining ,up from the river,
but they had no prisonerri with: diem.
Squando's brow grew darker; and his
soul was ready for the conflict.
" Where are the white wolves I sent
you after?" said Squalid° sternly; as
they entered the cabin.
" We could not find them," said the
warriors ; "Major Philips aii. l ,d the
white people say Squalid() mush come
there, and they will settle it all with,
him, and`befriends and brothers."
" said the chief with a t'erriffc .
laugh 'of indignant scorn, " Squande
will go there and _ settle it with! them.
Go, you," he continued, pointkg to
one of the warriors, "and stimmon
every man of our ,tribe to meet at the
council fire to : night by the goiii dOwn
of the sun. And you," pointing. to
,another,, "go to Casco, .and -4ou . to
Presumpscut, and bring the, witrriars
of their tribes to of councii fires by
the hotir of midnig,ht." li
Major Philips and those resi ding id
the frt, or block-house, licarin with
in; more of Squalid() in the course of
the afternoon, began to grow alio:med. 1
Apprehensive that he might &i medi
tating an attack, they sent rotilid just
before night to the several lunises - in
the set dement, advising the inhabitants
all to come into the block-house;befOre
dark. They alsO despatched . la mes
seuger to Winter Harbor, and another
t:t Casco Bay, with a caution to the
people of those settlements to; be on
their guard. 1
About sunset • Squando sent four
trusty warriors to guard the house'. of
John Wakely, with strict orders that
no person should be' allowed tp leave
the house, and that done shoulil enter
it before- Morning. Just as they ar
rived, the family were preparin;g to go
to the-block-house;- but bein; , }Warned
by the warriors, who took - tl n sta
tions at the four corners OP thellnmse,
that if they' stepped afoot out dfdoors
before morning they would be shot
down, they remained within I . door - s,
passing a sleepless and anxiotni night.
The night proved rather • datk, and
( 11
the sentinels at the block-hous. 4 could
neither see nor hear the least . sign of
any one approaching, when Sue
about two o'clock in the mermng, the
stillest and: darkest hour of the night,
the whole welkin at once . - rung
with' the' the ' wildest andl most
terrific war-whoop that ever ( broke
the stillness of the forest. It eemed
to rise from a hundred voices at the
.same instant from every corder and
every side•pf the block-house, and was
echoed by every cliff and every hill
for a mile around. At the. sa?ne mo
- meat with the war-cry a furious onset
was Made , on every part of the flirt.
The outer: gate was besieged with
every ' speCies : of force that tibe rude
mode of savage warfare could apply,
and attempts were made on 0.11 sides
at the same moment to scale tfie walls.
'.Though' the people in the:fort, ap
prehending an attack, had made every
preparation fbr defense in their t power,
yet the onset was so - sudden, land the
savage war-cry so appalling, till . at they
were throWn into confusion, and very
narrowly escaped a general 4iassacre.
With the exception of the few who
were placed on guard, the men were
lying down to rest, and' many of them
were asleep, when the wild and shrill
whoop from vtlthout, followed by the
painful shrieks of the women and
children within, came like a dagger
to - their hearts . .. They sprang to their
feet and seized their arms, and ran
back and'forth, too much bewildered
- at first fol: any efficient movement or
any concert of action. Several of the
savages had gained the top of the wall,
and were beaten back, or shot down
by the sentinels;
. and in turn, several
of the sentinels • had fallen by the
•bullets or the arrows of the savages.
Fresh • forces were clamhe'ring up
upon long poles which they had reared
for the purpose, when the men within
began to recover from their plink,
and. rallied themselves stoutly and
rigorously to defend the fort.
.• The outer gate proved to be too
strongly barricaded to yield to the
forces applied against it, and the mus
kets from all parts of the lea poured
such a destructive fire upon the enemy,
that in coursc> of half an hour they
began to give way, and presently were
lost in the silence and darkhess of the
night. The Indian 4, had suffered the
most severely in the contest, though a
number of the beseiged had - been
iti4led and many more wounded. Ex
pecting every minute that the enemy
would return and ,renew the attack,
-they left the wounded to the care of
the women in the inmost apartments
of the block-house; while they con
tinued to stand by their arms and
make the best preparation they could
for defense. In ahem a:quarter of an
hour a light front a short' distance was
seen to gleam throhgh the - darkness.
It increased in size, and flickered high
in the air. It was the saw-mill of
Major Philips envehiped in flames.
Presently am,ther. light arose from a
point a little further 'doWn the river.
It was the conflagration of a corn-mill
belonging also to Major Philips. And
now, a little space from it, up the bank,
a dwelling-house was seen wrapt in
- flames. In a few minutes more, and
in another direction, another burning
dwelling flashed its red light upon the
surrounding dnrkucss. And then an
other, and then another; and by ,the
time the light of the morhing returned.
the people of the - fort had watched
the burning of the whole settlement.
About sunrise, Squando made his
appearance at the, dwelling of John
Wakelv, that had been spared and
guarded through the night agreeably
to his directions, At hiS summons
Wakelv came to the door.
" Give these to the young maiden,"
said Sguando, haL . Lling him the little
bunch of withered flowers that EliA
beth had culled two days before fbr
his lost child ; "she brought them to
tolmcabin of Squando for the. papooi;e . ;
but the papoose has gonen to the
spirit-land, and-the sight of them now
makes the heart of Squando sad.
Give them . to the maiden, and tell her
to have no fears, for the red man will
never harm her."
"But I am afraid, Squando," said.
Wakely, with a look of intense anxi
ety, "that my daughter has gone to
the spirit-land too."
Squando stinted—" Why do you
say that?"
"Because . ," said Wakely, "she
went yesterday afternoon away down
to her
.cousin Allen's,. and we have
not heard of-her since."
The residence of Allen was one of
the most remote iirthe settlemet ; and
Squando knew that some of the re
mote families bad not got into the
fort, for his men had brolight in sev
eral scalps, and told him that the Pre
sumpscut and Casco Indians had car
ried away, a number of prisoners.
Squando spoke not a
his
; but mo
tioning to two (k his warriors to fol
low, he started at full speed fur Allen's
opening. When they reached the
spot the smouldering ruins of the
house still sent up a sialy smoke,.
that at once convinced Squalid() that
human flesh was burning. lle has
tened to scrutinize, the embers.—
There was one' skeleton, and but one,
still broiling in the ashes. The flesh
was nearly consumed, and the expe
rienced eye of Squando told him the
bones were top large for the maiden
he was seeking. They were probably
the bones of Mr. Allen, who might
have been killed and scalped in
the onset, and perhaps his wife, with
her cousin Elizabeth, had been car
ried away captive.
Squando soon farina the trail of the
Presunipscut Warriors, and followed
them through the woods. After a
-rapid journey of Mx or seven miles,
an-ascending a small bill, he discov
ered them in the valley before him,
where, they had , made a halt to rest
and refresh _themselves, and rejoice
over the achievements of the mglft.
They had made a large' -fire of brush,
and were dancing round it, and sing
,a wild song, which Squando. at
once recognized as the usual song
preceding the Offering- of a human
sacrifice to the spirit of fire, and ho
knew that a captive was about to bo
committed to the flames. He rushed,
down the hill like a leaping torrent,
and dashed into the circle of the war
riors. A captive Was lying before
him, bound hand and foot, - and two
stout warriors were just laying hands
upon her tcl cast her into the flames.
The first glance told Seutindo the cap-,
tire was the maidetrwhom he sought.
• He sprang between her and the
fire, and raking his tomahawk, corn- -
manded the warrior 3 to leave the cap
tire. The warriors, supposing it to
be some sudden spiritual movement
ofSquando, released their hold. Ho
cut the bands that bound her,. raised
her to her feet, and conducted her in
safety back to her, father's dwelling.
It only remains tO be added h e re,
that Sluando continued the inveterate
enemy of the whites till a general
peace was effected with the tribes tho
fidlowing year. • The settlement at -
Saco Fails, in the meantime, was en
ti,rely broken up; the people at the
fiut fearing to 'remain in the neigh
borhood of Squalid(); removed imnie
diately aid joined the . settlement at
Winter Harbor.
POOR FELLOW
A few evenings since a' we were
passing along one ;of the principal
streets of the city, -we met a poor
trembling, bloated individual, whom
we had known in better days.- -Once
au honored business! man, the centre
of an increasing circle of sincere and
trusting friends—n'ow a shattered
wreck. drifting down the fatal stream
to a dishonored tomb. Once as lovely
a woman as ever ,God gave to matt
called hint by the _e_nAettring name of
husband, who now with her fatherless
childi•oh, has fled to !a. parent's home,
fOr tOod and slo•;ter. His blasted,
scared and scathe t; frame - taggered .
bellwe us and we Fit, b'eared
eyes fixed themselves u i t.ta ti!!, with a
half idiotic stnre; and stretching thrth
his fbvered and trembling hand - ho .
grasped ours, and. in a 'drunkard's .
drivel addressed us: "How are - von ;
Cary.? God bless you, my dear friend.'
Without waitiug, for a feNionse, he
continued, "All. Cary, I, know what
you are thinking - about, and what your
W0111(1 say, hut it is too late. Oh !. if
I had taken your adVice six years ago - ,
I might be a man, but I am- undone."
We' made aa eflhrt to speak, but he
interrupted: "it's do use to talk to
me. go 00, God bless you, Cary, you
will save others, hut poor John is
beyond your reach." The drooling
drunkard shed the drunkard's- tears
profusely ; !conscious- or his oalli:rg
chains and as..uring us that he loved
vs more than any man CM
gered away. . -
Noble, q - ciferous-hearted,. comprn
humble" fellow, •we pity; we pray- for
you; but \vhile villains stand really to
Inisten you on the road to perditiop,
there is vo hope of salvation.
, God's curs(t•re4.. 'upon the wretches
who, with deliberate and premedi
tated malice, are rubbing society of
au ornament and damning a soul.—Xr
ional Tr illp irt D,gn a.
VIOLETTA •eu At.t.E.Noner—..4 one Horse
Nord.—Vio'etta started convulsively, and tOr
: nett her tear-branched eyes wildly upon the
siot.ther; for to her there seemed sonte • hiug
in those low, rleh tone. Their eyes
met; his be.on.tig% widt . love and tenderness;
hers gleaming with wild uncertainly,
'•V,o:etta!"
"Alle'mlore"
And.the beautiful girl sank, from exec . of
joy, upon his noble heart, throbbilig with the
pure, holy, lelieitats love of other days.—
Al;eit ;off bent tender'y over her, and bathed
her pure, white 'temples, with the gushing
te.trs of deep, though subdued joy. While
doing this, M'etta's flither, Rip Van Snort,
was seen appro,vlang ;he lovers with a flail.
Allendorls,lw the aged patriarch, and with
one mighty leap Oured the banniSters and
rushed down stairs. , But Van Snort was not
to be thus "done." Ile put after the flying
A endorf, and as he was turning the COT
'tier of die red barn, gt.ve him a lift with the
flail that placed him. on the "other side of
Jortland' Violetta, dri‘ en to detraction,
thew herself upon the grass, and for a< long,
long hunt., was deal to every consn!aion.—,
(To be continued.)—S. F. Dutchman.
THE STARS AND STRIPES - AT (IT:EDI:C.-
11c workmen employed on the, Plaills of
AM.:Alain preparing for the approaching Ag
ricultural Exhibition there were desirous to
manifest theirjoyalty, and at the saute time
pay a compliment to Cox. Elgin, on his way
to open the Canadian Parliment. For that
purpose they hoisted' a flag immediately on
the approach of his Lordship's carriage. All
parties were surprised to find the AmeriCan
flag floating at the mast-head, and that the
Briti,h Governor passed under its shadow on
his way to represent the Queen. It 1eC11124 thti
°miaows flag had been brought down with oth
ers, front Montreal Ibr the exhibition, and that
in the hurry of the 11111111e1H, the workmen had
run up the stars and stripes.
Tot 11001, define.; public sentimant to be
the •`aterage prejndu•r : tiitud." Tom
had seen a thill,t; or .v,
Hr. who learns,. and ie
learning, is a beast of - bunicii tri.h a luau of
books.
11
N0..22.