. ’ LIFB4R NEBRASKA. . Now that Congfess, the politicians and the people are talking ofNebjaska/it may be interesting Tor our renders te accompa ny. us to the territory itself, and see where and what it is, who inhabit it, or live in Nobraska. In visiting this unorganised territory, up on which there is now so much dispute, wo must first go by any route we chose to St. Louis. Hero wo will take a steamboat and float for hundreds of miles to the mouth of the Kanzas river. Wo land here, and are in the region called Nebraska. If we were pleased to tako another steamboat, we could go up the Kanzas river, or nearly west to wards the interior. But lot us prefer rather to continue our voyngo up the Missouri, still by steambont, for some hundreds of miles. Wearonow at the mouth of the Platte river, or the Ne braska, which means “ Shallow Bottom.” It is rightly named, for though it is from ono to three miles wide, it is generally very shallow, and steamboats pass up its wa ters only forty miles. ' fiy this river Col. ] Fremont passed much of the way, on his routo to California and Oregon in 1842. In his journals of expeditions, there is, probably, more information on Nebraska than can bo obtained from all other books. i i We find Nebraska to be a vast region. By tho lato census it is estimated at 130,. 700 square miles, or a region as large as New England, Now York, New Jersey, Deleware and Maryland, and oven largor. If organized as proposed by the bill of Mr. Douglas, now pending in Congress, it will J bo larger still, as it will cmbraco much or| what has been known as the Indian Terri tory. We find tho Northern part of Nebraska as cold as New England ; tho interior as the climate of the Middle States, and the! southern portion with something of the; mildness of Virginia. There is, however j this difiorence ; Nebraska is more Asiatic: in its climate and general feature. There j aro vast prairies, high tablo lands, thou- j sands of miles above the level of the sea, rivers of.almost interminable length. On the west it is bounded by the Rocky Moun-j tains, whoso highest peaks are covered i with perpetual snow. A large portion of' the great American Desert is in this terri tory ; hero many pn emigrant, bound for California, has lain down to die, worn out with fatigue and hunger. The soil of Ne braska is mostly fertile, the geological for mation being that of lime-stone and‘sand stone, which always indicate a good soil. It must, in the future, become a fine farm ing region. Already many young farmers of our country have their eyes upon it, and will be bending thither their steps as soon ns Senator Douglas’s bill,or any other pass es, organizing the territories. But who inhabit Nebraska? Indians, and hnrdly any but Indians. It is their grandest hunting-ground, and it is suppo sed that from 75,000 to 80,000, or about one-sixth part of all tho Indians that yet remain in tho United States, roam over its prairies and table lands, pass their ca noes over its waters pursuo gnme by rivers, and over mountains, and wage wnr one upon another. Here are Christian Indians so called, such as the Delewares, Stock bridges, etc. ; here are tho wild and war j like Sioux, and Cheyenne Indians that de j light in scenes of blood j here roams the 3 Mandans, the Crows and Blackfoots, the i Assinibones, the Aricarcs, tho Gros Ven tres, and tho Mandans. Our civilization , has driven them beyond the Mississippi, and soon another wave or civilization will push them westward, where it is expected | that they will be fitted to become a part ol „ the body-politic, and to be duly represen ted in Congress. Hunting the Buffalo is the great pursuit I of tho wild Indians of Nebraska, and their greatest source of profit. Their skins they sell to the fur-traders; hut, alas! the buf faloes arc becoming scarce under the in fluence of the many rifles that are aimed at them. What will they do when ‘hoy are gone; they must become civilized and till the soil, as the Christian Indians now do, and with considerable success, as will be seen from tho following statistics : These Indians, less than 3000 in num ber, that live under the Fort Leavenworth agency, north and south of the Kanzas river, cultivate more than 4000 acres. From these apres they raised, in a sing e ! vear, 80 bushels of corn, 2690 of wheat, I 12,000 of oats, and 200,000 melons of all kinds They hnvo lnrgo numbers of nor- Ises and oxen, and live like happy and in dependent farmers. Of whites, permanently living in Ne braska, there aro but few, and these are either military men stationed at some of tho forts, or else Indian agents, or else missionaries sent out by the v “"® us gious denominations of tho Sta es. It s true, thore aro nlwoys more or less white travellers passing'td California, to Oregon, to Utah, or New Mexico, or returning from ihence, which gives no inconsiderably va riety to the lives of those who are confined there. Indeed, it is now stated that a newspaper is immediately to bo printed at old Fort Kearny, and that a post-office is to be established only forty miles for the benefit of the emigrants, who may write homo from that point, that t y have gone so far, safe and sound, or oth erwise, and that they hope to realize their golden dreams soon.” A newspaper and n post-office —two of the most powerful I agents of our modem civilization —are now to put forth theirstrength in what is to be fhe great heart of America. Other wild animals, besides buffaloes, abound in Nebraska. There are the swift nntelope, elk,, deer j prairie dogs, wild hor ses, and occasionally a grizzly bear cros sca the path of the traveller.-Tho prairie dogis allied to the marmot. They abound West of the Mississippi; living by the hun dreil's together,‘•’under' ground. ; ’Col. Fremonf and party; dug for enoin . 'their journey,.hhf.did npt succeed tofijg him. -These dogsore “about the size ofa it cam* liQior hi&#*7 lotica. k »nch |ONs*. tow for. *1 from atth* ntaco [red— • MIUCt toooal' niioQt, toot. latest >f tti» )D for !gf». peir. jO»»- ir »na nil by fntlag toftt) sNor aeba*' A WEEKLY PAPER; DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE, MORALITY, AND FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC INTELLIGENCE^ PmUsEueßn©til m ou aid-de-camp of the bully ran to his relief, j Jo not find them continually cutting their but ft was to meet tho same fate, for no ! own fingers—their mental part having sooner did he come in reach of the Molho-! suchan excessive edge. This weare com dist than with crushing forcte, he felt him- pelled to regard as one of those mysteri self ground on tho back of his comradejn ous dispensations for which we have to distress. Here they were held in durance thank a bcnificent providence; inasmuch vile, till tho sheriff - and his posse came, ns, were it not the case, the chosen vic and took possession, and binding them with tims of the sharp men might be left to ten others, they were carried before a jus- make tho most of Longfellow s advice lice, who fined them heavily for the mis- m -To.ufle.Md«r^w«irin,i” demeanor. As soon as quiet wns restored, which, however sublime lo the poe s eye, Bishop Asbury occupied tho pulpit. Affer jwe are certain is not agreeable. Ihe man singing and prayer, he rose and said he] who is nfflicted with the disease of being would give the rowdies some ndvice—‘You too-Sharp, may be easily recognised, and must remember that all our brothers in the soon become known to the community church are not yet sanctified, and I ndviso He is continually originating schemes, the fou to let them alone ; for if’you get them profit of which is moretobv.omMe> is mind angry and the devil should get in them, than the principle. He rules h.s hands they are tho strongest and hardest men to and knuckles dver the prospect, wi h an f ght and conquer in the world. 1 advise occasional sneer at the stupid gullibility of "d’o „o, like ,h= m , .0 go home .ho.o whom h. »,«=., « 3 I „|. n „ i the execution ol his project. Ills conceit “"in speaking of one of his brother itiner- or his own superior sacucity is perfectly ants-one towhom it is owing‘that Meth- invincible Suddenly he!“*“ kcn ® °\‘J ’ odism is now the prevailing religion in 11- fact that his scheme has failed , in striving odtsm is now me pr g b (q uge olherB shQrp | y> he has cut h.s own At'the camp-meeling held at Alton, in fingers. Still he is not cured. Indeed the autumn of 1833, the worshippers wero men of his afflicted character are g annoyed by a set of desperadoes from St. ally incurable One unprincipled project I ouis under the command of Mike Fink, having failed, lie tries another. V ho so a notorious bX. ,he triumphant hero of' sharp? Let these characters chuckle eve countless fights, hi none of which -he had , their edge but beware of being a partner ever met an equal, or even second. The m their schemes . coarse drunken ruffians carried it with a Schenck in the Ministhy.—Every high hand, outraged the men and insulted one w | lo haß heard Robert C. Schenck the women, so ns to threaten the dissolu- 6 p ea k for the first time in a ense in which tion of all pious exercises ; and yet such his feelings are deeply interested, know was the terror the name of the leader, what a vivid impression his withering snr- Fink inspired, thnt no one individual could j casm nnc | impassioned rnfcnner is calcula be found brave enough to face his prowes. [ lc d to produce upon one unaccustomed to At last, one day, when Mr. ascended animated debates. the pulpit to hold forth, the desperadoes on I An unsophisticated Methodist farmer the outskirts of the encampment, raised n w |, o ij vc d j n a distant portion of the coun yell so deafening as to drown utterly every lrv . nnc j whose business seldom calls him other sound. M ’s dark eyes shot t0 ’oourt, accidentally heard that Schenck lightning. Ho deposited his Biblo, drew jj was appointed Minister to Brazil, a coun. off - his coat, and remarked aloud : Itry in South America. The terms jrreach ‘Wait for a fow minutes, my brethren, : anl j minister of the gospel were insepo. while Igo and make the devil pray.’ j ra bl y associated in the mind, and ho took He then proceeded, with a smile on his f or granted that Schenck had turned lip to the focus of the tumult, and address- 1 prcac her, and had been sent on a divine ed’the chief bully: | mission. With this impression he went ‘Mr. Fink, I have come to make you home. pra y.’ | “Wife,” said he, “what do you think 1 The desperado rolled back the tangled hoard at Dayton to-day ? That little wick festoons of his blood-red hair, arched his 1 e( j ) w hite headed lawyer you have heard huge brows with a comical expression, and ■ mo S p ea k 0 f s 0 often, has been converted replied— ' j and turned preacher, and has been sent ‘By golly! I’d like to see you do it, old a 8 a missionary to a heathen nation, away snorter.’ down in South America 1 If the dqvil ever ‘Very well,’ said Mr. ——, ‘will these mot his match, I guess ho is got him now gentlemen, your courteous friends, agree f or if grace don’t change him too much, not to show foul play ?’ 1» will give the old reprobate no rest for ‘ln course they will. They’re rale grit, t | lo sole of his Toot until ho leaves tho and won’t do nothin’ but the clear thing, country.” so they won’t,’ rejoined Fink, indignantly. I ‘Are you ready? asked Mr. . ‘Ready as a race horse with a light rider,’ squaring his ponderous person for tho combat. But the bully spoke too soon; for scarce ly had the words left his lips, when Mr. made a prodigious hound towards his antagonist, and accompanied it with a quick, shooting punch of his herculean fist, which fell crashing the other’s chin, and hurried him to the earth like lead. Then even his intoxicated comrades, filled with involuntary admiration at the feat, gave a cheer. But Fink was up in a mo .ment, and rushed upon his enemy, ex claiming— ‘That vvnsn’l dono fan, so it warn t. |]a aimed a ferocious stroke, which Mr, -parried with his left hand, and grasp ing his throat with tho right, crushed him down ns if he had been an infant. Fink struggled; squirmed and writhed in the dust, but all to no purpose, for tjTe strong muscular fingers held his windpipo as in the jaws of an iron vice. When he began to turn purple in the face, and ceased to resist, Mr. ■ slacked hia hold, and in quired — ‘Will vou pray now ?’ ■; .‘I doesn’t know a word bow,’ gasped Fink. , , „ * .‘Repeat after me,’commanded Mr. —, Clearfield, Pa., April 19, 1854. ‘Well, ifl must, I must,’ answered Fink, ‘because you’re the devil himself.’ The preacher then said over the Lord’s prayer, line by line, and the conquered bully responded in the same way, when the victor permitted him to rise. At the consummation the rowdies roared three boisterous cheers. Fink shook Mr. s hand, declaring — ‘By golly, you’re some beans in n bar fight, I’d rather set-to with an old he bar in dog days. You can pass this ’ere corwd of nose smashers, with your piclur.’ Afterwards Fink’fi party behaved with j the utmost decorum, and Mr. rc • suined his seat in the pulpit. What is a For?—The fop is a com plete specimen of an outside philosopher. He is one-third collar, one-sixth patent leather, one-fourth walking stick, and the rest kid gloves and lmir. As to his remote ancostry, thero is some doubt, but it is now pretty well settled that he is the son of a | tailor’s goose. He becomes ecstatic at the I smell of new cloth. He is somewhat ner vous, and to dream of tailors’ bills gives him the nightmare. By his hair one would judge he had been dipped like Achilles, but it is evident that the goddess must have held him by the head instead of the heels. Nevertheless, such men are useful. If there were no tadpoles, thero would be no frogs. They are not so entirely to blame for their devotion to externals. Paste dia monds must have a splendid setting to make them sell. Only it seems to bo a waste of material to pul five dollars’ worth of beaver on five cents’ worth of brains. G3”Lesing says: “That the most agree able of all companions is a simple, frank man, without any high pretensions to an oppressive greatness —ope who loVes life, and understands the use of it; obliging alike at atl hours; above all,, of a golden temper, and steadfast as an anchor. For such a one we’d gladly exchange thegreat est genius, the most brillmnt wit,, the pro foundesi thinker.” Number 12. election returns. In n county hard by, an election was had for the office of High Sheriff. Three popular-candidates were in the field, and their chances of success were about equal. Never it is said, did the yeomanry of that county enter moro hotly into a political contest than on this occasion. Thousands upon thousands of dollars, had been staked on the result; and this circumstance, per- hnps, lent much to the enthusiasm mani fested by the people. On the morning of the election, runners, provided with fleet horses, were despatch ed to all the different polls in the county, who were to bring in the returns to the Jiotel in which being the head-quarters oftthe three parties. We will passby the many exciting and amusing occurrences of the day, and re cur to the closing scene of the night. Tho returns were all in with the excep tion of one township ; and the contest thus far, was so close that the disparity between tho highest nnd lowest candidates was less than ten votes. Tho fute of the three can didates hung upon result of that one poll. Each candidate hud claimed a hand some majority in tho remaining township ; but as each had been deceived by the votes of the balance, the result in this wos a mat ter of extreme doubt. The three compe-, titors become exceedingly alarmed. Iho friends of each were thrown into a state of j painful anxiety; and the sporting gentle-1 men felt as though they had embarked in j a hazardous enierprize. In the stillness of tho night, the clatter ing of a horse’s feet was faintly heard in iho distance. The shout of 'he's coming, gave a general notice of the fact. As the messenger neared them, his noble animal flying, as it were, under whip nnd spur, they fell back on either side, and opened a passage to receive him. In he dashed, re gardless of human life, and hauled up sud denly under the dim light of a lamp, with watch in hand, he exclaimed. “Five hundred dollars that belter time was never made 1 Ten miles in only twen ty minutes ; and by a three year old Colt, at that !” A death like stillness pervaded the crowd os ihe runner continued to expatiate upon tho speed and qualities of his colty-a mat ter in which none but himself seemed to feel any interest, the returns being tho on ly thing which could interest the crowd at this juncture. “The returns!” interrupted a voice in the crowd. “ Thirty-eight of a majority /” answer ed the runner. “For who I” demanded the same voice in the crowd. . “Gentlemen, all I know about it is that some fellow go \. thirty-eight of a majority, but who thed—l it was, I can’t tell, you ; but one thing I do know, nnd that is, that you can just bet your life on this hoss. ’ Wc hove since frequently heard of this man, who is now universally known and called, in this neighborhood, by the cog nomen of “the fellow that brought-in the returns.”— O. Dem. ANECDOTE OF FINN. Finn was once a witness for the prose cution in a case before the Common Pleas in Boston, and his testimony was so direct and conclusive that the counsel for the de fence thought it necessary to discredit him The following dialogue ensued : “Mr. Finn, you live in - R 1G jj T q VER d °y° u n ? i r„ I have a friend, whose ready wit often “You have lived there a great while 1" ~0 - - -No °r“vo™t.=rl. e ally ra.co.cl.” “Ttoral .h.ra! you .ra 6.m 6 regie ..T„.c ell do, Sin . lev. no raoro ‘‘But I have something more to answer, reins, drew in his hors^ 3 - “ nd *s£ been pleased to speak with so much levity, dog or pig, might have. V® en jj t seo ; n(T Tiny mother ; and I have known but one 1 jellcy by their heavy we:gh<. man base enough to breath or say ought ! nothing, > e lo jj his progress, and against her. You, Sir, can guess who he,so singularly arrested 1 D is. True, she is under my protection.— said : She protected mo through infancy and |Ojo r comma „dmcnt,” wets the childhood, and it is but a small part of the f; h °, v “Remember the Sabbath day debt that I owe to her to do as much for quick reply, Uememoer , • ii .to keep it holy. her in old ogc. it W nq Kurd starling those wheels again, The baffled counsellor had no more h(Uj , ing loud M the rest of sa y- ♦ the day.— ftonvich Examiner. A stripling some night years of age, was - Tim Ohio eneatred in tho manufacture of a stool, A Nnw View of Niagara —The Uluo winch on account of a disparity in the state Journal tells n story of an Irishman leneth’of the legs, refused to stand up.— 0 f the better class- who thought ho must After fruitless efforts to make it do so. 1 conform to the fashionable mantt th.pay: “Mother,” inquired he, "docs the Lord ing a visit to Iho falls of Niagara, 1 addy see everything ?” 1 arrived at the Falla, and taking a look at “Yes mv son.” I the surrounding woud e r s oddrc s se d 11 1 rn “ Well,” replied the young hopeful, se [f to a gentleman: “And is this Ni g ra iMhen I guess he’ll laugh when he sees this FaHg 7” “Y<’ was the reply. “And stool” ' what’s t here hereto make such a bother S-An enthusiastic girl states' aboutl” 1 “Why,” said the gmfieman, « under oath that the first time s'jo lockeJ you not .e gh arms with a young man, she felt like Hope abjsS, ine g , wafer, Tdoi§ h.,.„,h0,. Poelic young wo- THE MOURNING MOTHER. Your child is gone—is dead. No mbre shall your ear be charmed by tho music of that infant voice; Up was your young est; and before ho had become familiar - with the dark ways of thd'world in which all is not as when turned from tho Crea tor’s hand —whilo yet his voice went forth in childish glee and love to all—while ev ery tone was yet sweet to your cop-and before, by any sinful act, his nfcsonco brought a pang to your heart—hishcavcn. ly Futher called him to come up higher. ‘lt is well’ that ydu should wcppupan tho grave of your youngest, "id remember that your child is but a few steps before, led by tho hand of the Most High, to lure you on to Heaven. • One Sunday morning we found a hum ming bird unable to escapo through tho open window by which it had entered our room. To aid its flight, we caught it,and as this was our first opportunity of examin ing closely one of these tiny creatures, wo held it a few moments for that purpose.— I After satisfying our curiosity, and pained !by its cries of fear, we concluded to let it I go. It was raised on the hand; but In stead of securing its liberty tho moment the fingers were unclasped, it lay as if not realizing it was indeed free to fly. There panting from exertion, glittering in all tho brightness that could fix the gaze, it lay on tho hand, resting for flight; then ojr wings of music, up, up, and away it sped to wards heaven in the glad sunlight ot that , Sabbath morning. One minute we stood looking, and list ening, to the hum of wings gone, and its gay colors lost in the light of tho sun to wards which it fled. What wonder wo felt a momentary sadness as it left us ( yet could we wish it back ? So it is with your boy. Though clad in tho robes of light, yet you cannot see him for tho brightness 0 r that heaven to which he has (been called. Although his voice has noiVif music it never had on earth, it reaches not your car. You weep because he has gone; yet remembering ho is another treasure in heaven, can you | wish him back? SAM SLICK ON LAWYERS. Few things resemble each other more, in naiur’, than an old cunuin’ lawyer and n spider He weaves his web into acorner, and with no light behind, to show the thread or his net; but—in a shade, like—there he waits in his dark office, to receive Ins visitor. A buzzin’, burrin’, thoughtless fly, thinkin’ of nothin’ but his beautiful wings and well-made legs,and rather near sighted withal comes stumblin’, head-over heels, into the net. «. _ “I beg your pahdon,” says the fly, l really didn’t see this net-work of yours, the weather is foggy, and the streets so confoundedly dark, I’m afraid I ve done mischief.” . , “Not at all,” says the spider, bowin , l guess it’s nil my fault. I reckon I had ought to have hung a lamp out; but pray, don’t movo or you may do damage Al low me to assist you.” And then, he ties up one leg, and then the other, and furls up both wings, and has him ns fast as Gib ralter. . , “Now,” says the spider, “my good friend,” (a phrase a feller uses, when he s agoin to be tricky,) “I’m afraid you vo hurt yourself a considerable sum. 1 must bleed you.” \ “Bleed mo!” says the fly. “Excuse me; I’m obliged to you—l don’t require it. “Oh! yes, you do, my dear friend, and he gets ready for the operation. “If you dare to do thut,” says the II), “I’ll knock you down ; and Fm a man that what I lay down I stnnd on.” “You had hotter get up first,” says the spider, a-lnughin’. “You must be bled; you must pay all damages. And ho bleeds him,and he bleeds him, till ho gasps for breath, and feels faintin’ connn on. “Let me go, my good feller,” says the poor fly, “and I will pny you liborully. “Pay!” says the spider. “You miser able, uncircumcised wretch, you have no thing left to pay with: Tuke that. au ho gives him the last dig, and he is a gone coon —bled to death.