Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, June 11, 1845, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    1
7a37 TiIOMIDNKIVaI
DMo
The Widow's charge at her Daughter's
Bridal.
ax MIN. I. E. IfOOMINET
s ► gently thou, whose band bath won
Thi young bird from the nest away,
here carless neath a vernal sun
She gaily carolled day by day;
e haunt is line—the heart must grieve,
From whence her timid wing doth spar,
e pensive list, at gush of eve,
Yet hear her gushing song no more.
ea t gently with her--thou art dear,
Beyond what: vestal bpi bath told ;
ed like a lanip, from fountain clear,
She turns confiding to thy fold ;
he, round thy sweet domestic bower,
The wreaths of changeless love shall twine,
Itch for thy step at vesper hour,-
And blend her holiest prayer with thine.'
en gently., thou, when far away.
'Mid stranger scenes her foot shall rove,
ilor let thy tender cares decay ;
The soul of woman lives on love ;
',And should'st thou, wondering, mark a tear
Unconscious from her eyelid break,
Be pitiful, end soothe the fear
The man's strong heart can ne'er partake:
A mother yields her gem to thee,
On thy true breast to sparkle rare—
She places 'need' thy household tree
The idol of her fondest care ;
And by thy trust to be forgiven
When judgment wakes in terror wild,
By all . the treasured hopes of heaven.
Deal gently with the widow's child.
Lrgal 14:hiskers.
As o'er their wine and walnuts sat,
Talking of this and then of that,
wi s i,w, well learned in the law—
That is, well skilled to find a flaw—
Said
one companion to the other,
-How is it, most respected brother,
That you of late have shaven away
Those whiskers which for many a day
'l-l'ad ornamented much your cheek!
Sure, 'twas an idle, silly freak."
TO whom the other answer gave,.
`With look half merryand half grave
- - Though others be by whiskers graced,
A lawyer can't be to barefaced !
Now tell me why,'! the other cried,
"In whiskers you take so Erlich pride;
Why such a mass of savage hair,
Upon your " : face divine," you wear'!"
To whom the other answer gave,
With look half merry and half grave,
" For the same reason that you say
Caused you to shave yours all away.—
Though some by whiskers are not graced,
A lawyer can't be4oo Bear faced! .
i
Light of My Life.
" Thus joy is o'er me, when in thy
Endearing presence time is fleeing."
When Night unfolds her sable wing,
The streamlet moans—the forest sighs,
And flowers no more their incense fling,
Nor smile in all their gorgeous dies;
But when the light of morn appears,
The conscious rose , resumes Its hue;
And from its branches shakes the teats
Drop'd on its leaves by midnight dews.
Light of my Life! 'Tis thus my hearts
h dark when thou'rt'no longer near,
While from its magic gloouis there start,
A thousand shadowy farms of fear, •
That, whispering thou halt ceased to love,
But make me wish for morning's skies,
When, like the light from Heaven above,
Joy bursts in radiance from thine eyes
Then Nature seems to smile
Then the bright flowers of Hope unfold,—
And then like courtiers round their Queen,
And lobed in purple, pearl and gold♦
A thousand sweet emotions throng -
My breast in pasaionate estacy,
And poor, like morning's choral song;
- Light of my Life, their strain to thee!
The Farmet,
'Drive on, thou sturdy farmer,
Drive cheerly o'er the field ;
The pleasures of a farmer's life, 4.
No other life can yield.
Thou risest with the morning sun,
To till the fruitful earth ;
Arid when thy daily task is done,
Thou seek'st thy peaceful hearth,
Thoi )(west tot the gaudy town,
With its tuaraltous roar ;
Plenty and peace thy fireside crown,
And thou dost ask no more:
Monarchs with robes in crimson dyed,
• .Are.low, compared with thee;
- They are the pampered sons of pride,
Theuet God's nobility.
"Go on, thou sturdy farmer,
Tread proudly on the s o d,
Thy pond and goodly heritage,
Thou chosen man of God.
-- .
..
. .
Or .
-% ... , ...
~,
••• ..
~......
c_ia,....,)_• .
, ..,
~. ,1 , ' =-'' 0 -;•: - - ' 7 ,
, .
. . . ..•
The Borderer'' Child;
On,
Washington at Eighteen.
BY NARY V. SPENCER.
It was a calm, sunny day, in the
year 1750 . ; the scene; a piece of forest
land on the Northern Neck of Virginia,
contiguous to a noble stream of water.
Implements of surveying were lying
about, and several men, idly reclining
under the trees, betokened by their
dress and appearance that they com
posed a party engaged in laying out
the wild lands of the then frontier of
the old Dominion. These persOns had
apparently just finished their noontide
meal, for the relic's of the banquit were
scattered araind.
Apart from the group walked a young
man, evidently superior to his compan
ions, though there was nothing obtru
sive in his air, which, on the contrary,
was ',distinguished by affability. A
certain dignity of aspect, however, ac
companied him. Added to this, he
was a tall and compact frame, and mov
ed with the elastic tread of one accus
tomed to constant exercise in the open
air. His countenance could not have
been said to be handsome, but it wore
a look of decision and manliness not
usually found in one so young—for ap
parently he was little over eighteen
years of age. His hat had been cast
off, as if for comfort, and he had paus
ed, with one foot advanced, in a na
tural and graceful attitude, at the mo
ment that we have introduced him to
our reader.
Suddenly there was a shriek, then
another, and then several in rapid suc
cession.. The voice was that of a wo
man, and seemed to proceed from the
other side of a dense thicket. At the
first scream the outh turned his head
in the direction whence the sound pro
ceeded; but when it was repeated, he
pushed aside the undergrowth which
separated him from it, and quickening
his footsteps as the cries succeed each
other with alarming rapidity, he soon
dashed into an open space or clear-
Yrig," as the borderers even then called
it, on the banks of the stream, in the
centre of which a rude log cabin stood,
whose well pole poised over one end,
and smoke curling from the chimney,
gave signs of habitation. As the young
man, with a lace flushed by haste, broke
from the undergr&•th, he saw his com
panions crowded together on the bank
of the river, while in their -midst a wo
man, from whom proceeded the shrieks,
was visible, held back by two of the
: most athletic of the men, but still strug
gling violently for freedom.
It was the work of an instant to make
his way through the crowd and, confront
the female. The moment her eyes fell
on him she exclaimed,
4 , 0 1 . sir--you will do something for
me. Make them release me—for the
love of-God ! My boy—my poor boy
is drowning, • and they will not let me
go . 79
4. It would be madness—she will
jump into the river," said one of those
who held her, as the frantic mother
strove again to break from his grasp.
The rapids would dash her to pieces
in a minute."
The youth had scarcely waited for
these words. His eye took in at a sin
gle glance the meaning of the sad
group. He recollected the child of the
woman, a bold htde fellow of four
years old, whose handsome blue eyes
A and flaxen ringlets made him a favorite
with strangers, and filled the mother's
heart
,with pride whenever she gazed
on him. He had been accustomed to
play, at will, in the little enclosure be
fore the cabin ; but this morning the
gate having been accidentally left open,
he had stolen out when his mother's.
back was turned, reached the edge of
the bank, and was in the act of looking
over when his parent's eye caught sight
of him. The shriek which she uttered
precipitated the catastrophe she feared,
for the child, frightened at the cry, lost
his balance and fell headlong into the
stream, which here went foaming and
roaring along innumerable rocks, con
stituting the most dangerous rapids
known in that section of the country,.
Scream now followed scream in rapid
succession, as the agonized parent rush
ed to the bank. She arrived there
simultaneously with the party whom
we left reclining in the shade, and who
weresacttered about him within a few .
steps of the scene of accident. For
Innate was it that they were so near'
else the mother would have plunged in
after her child, and both'been lost.—
Several of the Men immediately ap
proached the brink and were on the
point of springing in after the child,
when the sight of the sharp rocks-crowd
Regardless of Denunciation from any. Quarter.—Goy. P,irivras.
covw&Yrail. 9 mtzlorroma) COSLOVU'VEI ailoa.mult - aaa asistc.
ing-the channel, the rush and whirl of
the waters. and the want of an, know
ledge where to look for the boy deterred
them, and they gave , up the enterprise.
- Not so with the youth- we have-in
troduced. His first work was to throw
off his coat; his next to spring-to -the
edge of the bank. • Here he stood,
for a second, running his eye rapid
ly over . the scene below , and tak
ing in with a glance the different cur
rents .and the most dangerous of the
rocks, in order to shape his course by
them when in the stream. He had
scarcely formed his conclusion, when
his gaze rested on a white object in the
water that he knew at once to be the
boy's dress; and while his companions,
aghast at his temerity, were prevented
as much by consternation as by the awe
with which he had already inspired
them from interfering, he plunged head
long into the wild and roaring rapids.
Thank God ! he will save my
child," gasped the woman ; see-4
there he is—oh ! my boy. my darling
boy, how could I leave you !"
Every one rushed to the brink of the
precipice and was now following with
eager eyes the perilous progress of the
youth, as the current bore him onward
like a feather in the embrace of a hur
ricane. Now it seemed as title would
be-dashed against a jutting rock over
which the water flew in foam—and
now a whirlpool would drag him in,
from whose grasp escape seemed,im
possible. At times the current bore
him under, and he would be lost to
sight; then. just as . the spectators gaie
him up, he would re-appear, though far
enough from where he vanished, still
bulletting amid the vortex. Oh ! how
that mother's straining eyes followed
-him in his pgrilous career—how her
heart sank when he went under—and
with what a gush 'of iv she saw him
emerge again from the waters, and
fling the waves aside with his athletic
arms, struggle on in pursuit of her boy,
But it seemed as If hisigenerous efforts
were to be of no avail, for though the
current was bearing off the boy before
his eyes, scarcely ten feet distant, he
could not, despite his gigantic efforts,
overtake the drowning child.
On they flew, the youth and the
child ; and it was miraculous how each
escaped being dashed to pieces against
the rocks l Twice the boy went out
of sight, and a suppressed shriek es
caped the_mother's lips—but twice he
re-appeared, and then, with hands
wrung wildly together, and breathless
with anxiety, she followed his progress
as his unresisting form was hurried on
ward with the current.
The youth now appeared to redouble
1 his exertions, for they were approach
ing the most dangerous part of the river.
where the rapids, contracting between
narrowed shores, shot almost perpen
dicularly down a declivity of fifteen feet.
feet. The rush of the waters at this
spot was tremendous, and no one ven
tured to approach its vicinity, even in
a canoe, lest they should be sucked in.
What then would be the youth's fate,
unless he speedily overtook the child ?
He seemed fully sensible of the increas
ing peril, and urged his way now
through the foaming current with des
petate strength. Three several times
he was on the point of grasping the
child, when the waters whirled the
,prize from him. The third effort was
made just as they were about entering
within the influence of the current above
the fall, and when it failed, the, mother's
heart sunk within her, and she groaned
aloud, fully expecting to see the youth
give up the task. But no ! he only
pressed forward the more eagerly ; and
as they breathlessly watched; they saw,
amid the boiling waters, as if bearing a
charmed life, the form of the brave
youth following close after that of the
boy. And now, pursuser and pursued
shot like an arrow from the bow, to the
brink of the precipice. An instant they
hung there, distinctly visible amid the
glassy waters that seemed to pause on
the edge of the descent. Every brain
grew dizzy at the sight. But a shout
of involuntary exultation burst front the
spectators when they saw the bo l, held
aloft by the right arm of the yo 11,---a
shout, alas ! that was suddenly checked
by borrow when the rescuer and rescu
ed vanished into the abyss !
A moment—rather, many moments
elapsed, before a word.was spoken or
a breath drawn. Each of the.group felt
that to - look into the mother's face was
impossible. She herself had started
eagerly forward and now stood on the
bank, a few paces nearer the cataract.
where she could command • a view of
itsfoot,',gazing thither with fixed eyes,
as if her . all depended on what the , next
momentihould reveal: 'Au:Wetly she
gave a glad cry,
There they are !" she exclaimed,
is see ! they are safe—Great God, 1
thank thee !" and for a moment wildly
turning her face to Heaven, she hurried
with trembling steps along the side of
the river in the direction of the fall.
Every eye followed hers, and sure
enough, there was the youth, stilllun
harmed, and still buffeting the waters.
He had just emerged from the boil
ing vortex below the cataract. With
one hand he held aloft the child, and
with the other be was making for the
shore.
They ran, they shouted, they scarce
ly knew what they did. until they
reached his side, just as he had strug
gled to the bank. They drew him out
almost exhausted. The boy was sense
less—but his mother declared he still
lived, as she pressed him franticly to
her bosom. His preserver, powerfully
built and athletic as he was, could scarce
ly stand, so faint was he from his exer
tions.
Who shall describe the scenes that
followed : the mother's calmness while
she strove to resuscitate her boy, and
her wild gratitude to his preserver when
the child was out of danger and sweetly
sleeping in her arms ? Our pen shrinks
at the task. But her words pronounced
them—we may hope in the spirit of
prophecy—were remembered after
ward by more than one who heard
them.
God will reward you," said she,
"as I cannot. He will do great things
for you in return for this day's work—
and the blessings of thousands beside
mine, will attend you."
And it was so. For to the hero of
that hour were subsequently confided
the destinies of a mighty nation. But
throughout his long career, what tended
perhaps most to make him honored and
respected beyond all men, was the
self-sacrificing spirit which in the rescue
of that mother's child, as in the more
august events of his life, characterized
OUR WASHINGTON.
The Philosopher and the Fereyman.
A Philosopher stepped on board a
ferry boat to cross a stream. On his
passage, he inquired of the ferryman,
if he understood arithmetic. The man
looked astonished. •
.. Arithmetic ? No sir. I never heard
of it before."
The philosopher replied." I am very
sorry, for one quarter of your life is
gone."
A few minutes after he asked the fer
ryman, "Do you know anything about
mathematics ?"
The boatman smiled, and again re
plied, .` No."
" Well then," said the philosopher.
" another quarter of your life is lost."
A third question was asked the fer
ryman, " Do-you understand astrono
my ?"
"Oh ! no sir! never heard of such a
thin g ?"
Well, my friend. then another quar
ter of your life is lost."
Just at this moment, the boat ran on
a snag, and was sinking, w,hen the fer
ryman jumped up, pulled of his coat,
and asked the philosopher with great
earnestness of manner,' " Sir, can you
swim ?"
No," said the philosopher.
4. Well, then," said= the ferryman.
~ y our WII OLE life is lost, for the boat is
going to the bottom."
I sister.
He who has never known a sister's
kind administration, nor fell — his heart
warming beneath her endearing smile
and love beaming eye, has been unfor
tunate indeed ; it is not to be wondered
if the fountains of pure feelings flow in
his bosom but sluggishly, or if the gen
tler emotions of his 'nature be lost in the
sterner attributes of manhood That
man has grown up among kind and af
fectionate sisters," 'I once heard a lady
of much obsdrvation and experience re
mark. And why 'do you think so ?"
said I. 4 , Because of the rich develop
ment of all the tender and more refined
feelings of the heart which is so ap
parent in every action—in every word,'
A sister's influence is felt even in man
hood's latter years, and the heart of
him who has grown cold in its chilling
contact with the world. will warm and
thrill with a pure enjoyment, as soma
incident awakens within the soft tones
and glad melodies of his sister's voice:
and he will turn, from purposes which
a warped and false philosophy has rea
soned into expediency, and even weep
for the gentle influence which moved
him in his early years.
TRUTH is . mighty and twill, pre.
nail," as the man said when he knock
ed his wife down with the Bible.
Ladies' Dress.
• Only a few out of the great number
of ladies one chances to see, in the street
seem to dress with , any regard to a cor
rect standard of taste. First, as' to 'the
colors of their attire, they appear to
have to have no idea of a harmony or
agreeable assemblage of tints. You
will observe a lady, for example, dress
ed in a blue silk bonnet garnished with
a red flower, a scarlet shawl daubed
with green spots, and' gown of some
Tieutrat tint, but marked strongly with
pink and purple streaks. The object
in dressing in this guise would deem to
be the bringing together as many star
ing colors as possible—a bit of bide,
red, green, yellow, pink, orange, or
any thing else which will make a dash
and look pretty. Pretty is the only
standard; a pretty bonnet, a pretty
shawl, a pretty gown, &c.; let it be
only pretty, and that is quite enough.
Thus, when things are bought separate
ly, although each may look tolerably
well by itself, the whole will probably
make up a most fantastic assemblage of
colors, and really render the wearer ri
dtcuhaus. If we should be permitted
to offer an advice upon the very deli
cate matter of a lady's dress, we should
by all means, recommend the adoption
of simple, not flashy colors. A high
toned color is always dangerous; it
may be quite a variance with the com
plexion, and at least cannot easily be
suited to other parts of a swarthy com
plexion should on no account attempt
blues, lavenders, or any other violent
colors; the most suitable for them are
whites, or any of the broken light tints. '
Sky blue and pea green are the most
trying colors which can be worn. We
have been told by manufacturers that
they prepare dresses of certain colors
for certain towns. In one place there
is a demand for high colored goods,,
and in another these goods could scarce
ly find a purchas,r, but the demand
would be nearly all for neutral tints ;
in other words, the ladies in one exer
cise a coarse indiscriminate taste, and
in the other they are more refined in
judgment.
Effects of Kindness.
I am almost convinced that there ne
ver yet was an instance in which kind
ness has been fairly exercised but that
it has subdued the enmity opposed to
it. Its first effort may not succeed any
more than one shower' of rain can re
claim the burning desert but let it re
peatedly shed then the due of its holy
influence upon the revengeful soul, and
-it will soon become beautiful with every
flower of tenderness. Let any person
put the question to his soul, whether,
under any circumstance, he can deliber
ately resist continued kindness ? And
a vice of affection will answer, that
good is omnipotent in overcoming evil.
If the angry and revengeful • person
would only govern his passions, and
light the lamp of affection in his heart
that it might stream out in his features
and actions, he would soon discover a
wide difference in his communion with
the world. The gentle would no lon
ger avoid - him ; friends would not ap
proach him with a frown ; the weak
would no longer meet him with dread;
children would no longer shrink from
him with fear; he would find that his
kindness wins all by its smile giving
them confidence, and securing their
frienhship.
Christian Education.
We are hoping to form new men and
women by literature and science ; but
all in vain. We shall learn in time that
moral and religious culture is the foun
dation and strength of all true cultiva
tion ; that we are deforming human na-
lure by the means relied on for its
growth, and that the poor who receive
a care which awakens their conscience
and moral sentiments, start under: hap
pier auspices than the prosperous, who
place supreme dependence on the edu
cation of the intellect anti taste. It is
the kind,not the extent of knowledge,
by which the advancement of a human
being must be tneasured, and that kind
which, alone - exalts a man is placed
within the reach Of all. Moral and re
ligious truth—this is the treasure of
the intellect, and all are poor without it.
This transcends physical truth as fat
as the Heavens is lifted above the
Earth.
Mtittamon.,-4acitus says. early
marriage makes us immortal., It is the
soul and chief prop of empires. The
man who resolves to live without wo
man, and the vvOman who resolves to
live witliout man, are enemies to the
community in which they dwell, in
jurious to thellaelves, destructive to
the whole world; apostates from nature„,
and rebeli against heaven and earth.
Etre 154 1 30 ° R eat di titeatii
Courtship Abolished(
Height)! for the cominggenerationt:
The great Reform broom which has
swept and "is being" swept so fierce.;
ly throughbut the world.=-brushing
down old cobweb notions, and kicking
such a dust in every quarter6-proseribz
ing eatables, drinkable,. wearablesi
sleepables, and all kind of bles, has got
at last into "Love's own bower.'
Courting has been seriously *cited down
in
r solemn conclave ! A resolution
" against nightly courtships " has re
cently been discussed in a Freo Will
Baptist Convention, sitting in Boston,
and_ passed unanimously. A reverend
Elder lifted up his voice against the
wicked practice of courting, " the ma.'
Rim of keeping company in the night,
after the usual hour of retirement, is
corrupting" and that it "ought to be
dolnyfiay with." Nine o'clock is the
usual bed time. Now if we understand
the. elder, a " fellow " may GG liters
company" with a gal until the belt
rings, but every moment he remains
afterwards he, is guilty of sin. But let
us hear the reverend gentleman's ob.;
jections in full. Here they are:
" My objections to it are as follows
1. It lowers the dignity of the matrimo:
nial institution. 2. It subjects to great
temptation. 3. It disqualifies the mind
for deliberate action.--W hat merchant
could you induce to close a bargain .after
thelatigue and excitement of a night',
watching ? Were he to purchase a
horse, he would say that he was not
fitted to conclude the bargain till he had
taken some rest. And if all men are so
cautious _ as to a trifling engagement;
how foolish and wicked is the custom
of nightly watching to negociate en=_
gagements important as life itself ?"
The elder reasons like a book. We
don't like his idea altogether of making
courtship a mere Gs business transae ,
lion," however. It takes away a huge
slice from the romance_of the thing.—
We don't fancy this negociating for a
wife as we would for a horse or a quar
ter of beef. It smacks so much of the
shop. In our courting days. - ‘ , long
time ago"—we did not consider it so
very very G. foolish and wicked" ababit
we had of sitting up o' nights. It de
pends, however, on the temperament
and motives.—the moral standing of a
man ; and our elder may have felt very
" foolish and wicked" in certain aim.;
ticns. while we, placed in similar ones,
would have felt uncommonly sensible
and innocent. It all depends upon
one's bringing up. Major Noah says.
and we half coincide with him, that
man's courting days are his happiest
and we will put the Major against the.
Elder any day in the matter o' Court:.
ship..
Raising fruit for Swine
Mr. Foote states that fruit is excellent
for swine ; they prefer it to potatoes
or corn. It was likewise good for neat
cattle, make exciting flesh, and cows
fed with a peck of apples a day, would
give more and better milk. Some say
that they are better than potatoes for
this - purpose. Some persons suppose
that the nutritive power of sweet ap
ples is greater than that of sour, but
this - is not correct. Sour apples should
be cooked and Indian meal mixed with
them. As to profit in raising fruit, a
few statistics will show a favorable re
sult.. It setting trees 40
feet opart
there will be 40 to the acre, which be=
fore arriving to maturity would product!
10 bushels each, making 400 bushels
to - the acre, which, at 25 cents per boa
shel, would bring $lOO. A farmer in
this vicinity has received $l,OOO a "reef
for the produce of sit acres.
THE SCOTCH Trturrz.E.4--The origin
of this national badge is thus handed
down by tradition : Whet: the Danes
invaded Scotland * it was deemed unwar=
like to attack an enemy in the pitch Auk ,
ness of night, instead of a pitched battle
by day; but on one .occasion the inva
ders resolved to avail themselves of this
stratagem ; and in order tb pretent their
tramp from being heard, they marched
barefooted. They had thus neared the
Scottish force unobserted, when aDane
unluckily stepped upon a superbly prick ,
ed thistle, and instinctively uttered, a cry
of pain which discovered the assailants
to the Scots, who ran to their arms, and
defeated the foe with great slaughter.
The thistle was immediately adopted as
the insignia of Scotland."
GENzus.—Genins can atone compre
hend genius, and only a noble mind
understands one of its own stamp ; at
the' same time•l it sees ignoble spirits,
mote clearly than they do themeetTe&„
He who seat. understands the blind
man ; but the blind man otonotcompre-:
bend him.
IS
2 . 0.4