U
..... 7 7.57{7 720
im*NO
UCD'Zkr.i.SSMals
WEDNESDAY. APRIL 29, 1846
We invite attention to the sketches of the Fared
Tierrind t °raring Shrubs of Bradford county. They
, ii be found highly interesting and accurate de emiptiona,
a rion, trees and shrubs which make our scenery
st beluga
The Family Bible.
la en•ry sge and in every land has the Bible been re-
It has been a source of consolation in the how'
action. and enhanced the joys of contentment. The
fees d the Bible presents to the most careless reader the
i nterest ; the &wt and benighted ages through
r i c h a his passed; the mutations of Time, and the
c ,,,,n0g of different Kingdoms and governments and
„ ze es ; independent of the holy and elevating charac
w which it bears—makes it venerated and regarded as
he Book of Moles Other books—the songs of ancient
1 4,; the chronicles of warlike deeds; the writings of
p,:, ers and plailasophers--come to us fragmentary, or
perished among the wrecks of Time—while the
B.:le is Ai perfect in all its parts—as Its poetic beauty is
7: nettled and its prose faultleas.
There ate kw relics more interesting in their nature,
znherned and preserved with greater care, than the
As an heir-loom, it is preserved from
re:awn to generation with almost sacredness, and
Fondly garnered with 'is Miser's are
Fnni its Pages has been heard, before the mind could
1-4.er,rand or the heart appreciate, the rich teachings
its pages contained ; and as years past, and the
.76ta:andinit became matured, has been drank in the
--repts of truth and the imstruetions of wisdom to guide
rer :store life, safely amid the sin and cares of the
Beres—m tus mast beautiful of all poems, - The
eri'a Saturday Nt,tht"--lias given a description of a
:c_n!v scree, where
-The sire turns o'er, wi patriarchal grace
The big ha' ti.bie, 'ance his father's
rsi jrll.l from its precepts instruction and food for the
1:13 heart.
e hac'e read of a man whose mother taught him in
ti trader years to kneel with her in prayer to his
and aftCr a lapse of years, and through changes
i% ma and pm -a:ions of his life, still was his mother's
m ,..,,0, e a - with him,'guidtng and directing him in
[Atha of rectitude and virtue:
And years and am and manhood the
And ieane him at his Mother's knee.—
Rre ts a bestir,. and reference in the following lines,
be ample testimon7 that the writer has been one
family circle, where the Bible has been made to
s=ni.ter to the daily heftiness of the group ; end its
Ninted be the fond advice of the sire, and
cour.els of the mother. The author's name is
Lz.f.r.nra, or we would gledly 'rife it a piece.
THE FMHLY HIBLE.
etirtfu'dy pleasing the Lund ter olle-:v:ott
o !authful connections and innocent ioy
'll L2:l, Nrsi ott ttatenta , ad. ice and affection,
isith mercies, att.h peace from or high_
sq yle. the chair of m 7 sire and me mother,
sea: of their odi.pring as ranged on each band,
and '_'.at nchest of tssaks, winch excelled every other,
r at fax.iry thalls-r-on thestaniL
Ef,:•le. the volume of God's inspiration.
.it man and at erentnit. couid yield us deli,;ht,
ale prayer of our sire was a sweet invocation
Percy by day, and for safety through
hazes of thanksgiving. with harmony
na7.tt f-om the heft of a family hand.
ra,sei u,fmm earth to that rapturous . dsreamg,
Peened to the 13itde. that lay on the stand.
Te web,* cf - trlnguillity, long base we parted ;
Hr bone' s alm wit gone, an! my parent' , no more;
'noon.:• ana sadness I aae brolea-hearted,
And wander unknown on a far distant short.
Te now can i lien a dear Savior . ' protection.
1 - .9c.ful of gilts from his bountiful hand
kt nr -wit patience rrineire his correcuim,
And ttmil. ulnae Bit!a that Is on the stand.
`Wratem for the B r 3 Reporte:.)
Trrts and Flowering Shrubs of •Bradford
fault!
Woaarnao apart that tler."
M". 1 11 . be it is one of the learnt',
wit tar. s d Nature, that ocr minds are inter-v:11Y in-
by the change of the seasons; ar.,l if t!...e
in
=xna do exist I believe the influence of spring to be
thoogh proverbial for its fickleness,
others in the retorn of green fields ar.4l bright
E..e rs. sad ahhorgh se are sonaetknes incornmo.aesi by
` -4 533 from suns tune to Mtn. yet e.-ery countenance
na happy smile, a contentment with these
s. as eorig as
- April showers
Bnng Mar e.oiress.
fie 6-•_, which air forrsis undergo at this season,
the =or. beautiful phattionaenons of roatine.—
F , xl the haiennew of winter they are now changing
rem--.es. aof Ming. The oLi tree hash a younger
and fro.= the num at its feet, the ciaLet is Peeling
% I " LI! teT cute; ten, ta the span scene.
rbe cattith of the WL'sner, the al3te. and the poplar.
ere iei ;= d eztrnd. Int the lass is *en capphed by the
per- letters whiaL 'aeon scpply their places ea
zne naea These wild's, of anients.ns then are mr°o
- tarred. axe azunag , the earfieln Somers etig.—
%t t • fitted bud is wen st find reeling iu ws.T 6 ° ,3
: 11 at each bongtolhen droopent with in awn *tient,
t stt thrw.erg cc in fine 'Say dnern„tSta hurstint iota
hxm,
Where an a dower ism the
Nee leaf tip, ei the tree."
ealzza, to the Cowering sod leafing rx mei fa
ininna of tl=ll, to admire. The regularty eith
' ° ' ,3 6- they essay then (lenges &en star to F ew . ' l2s
* **let Lisasev 5 afford a field of
eNertwice, sr..,ky if ed, wear unerringly ems
rte ane-...hret bath & sterd.=," g and in his harrer.-
:N " °°°= in the leaser aniztaht, (such as env:-
L°7 Wr:e 3e tt ins riet cc • thesetwanon, that leads
tt iqk .snr the:a homes periodinny at °main see-
Ca of t!te Fru and Puts dna wankeed that
emu & &icken:i to ear obsersations tithe seisms
as to lc Ina know it. n.M it eras hvadhid to be
ninL
darqes 11. 4 ::41 if 93 wdmes on all *int. *UT/
tat be Ix 'Pat Fad Ittichß aboim sxci etilu=a l
g*l' ' = 4 ' a sag art Cr in.; and =der ear eon eye firs
THE BRADFORD , RE !7ORTER,
to decay. The dew drop that gems the morning, is
drank by the sunbeam, and to us lost, till night restore
it seemingly to the same spc.t It is so with all the
greenness of the vegetable worldt—what is consumed
by the beat of summer, or as devoured by autumnal frosts,
winter restores and spring perfects.
a Nature looks all around her like the sun,
And keeps her works like his dependent worlds
In constant motion. She bath never missed
One step in her victorious march of change.
For chance sits knows not.
In noticing the forest trees and shrubs of our county, as
they come in bloom, the willow, the poplar, and the
alder now claim our attention.
The willow,(Saliz.) is of a large genus, of which we
base a number of indigenous species, together with a num
ber of species which are foreign. Of the foreign willows.
which hare been introduced, we hare the common wil
low (Salix 17Iellina..) This is a middling sized tree with
a short trunk, and is often seen about houses. It flour
ishes best in wet grounds. Its bark is yellowish, and
its leaves are long, narrow and pointed, with thin edges,
finely notched, smooth above, but silky beneath. There
is another viriety of this species (S. Alba.) which has
its 'leaves silky on both sides.
The weeping willow (S. Babyionica,) is also fre
quently seen about houses and grave yards. It has long
pendulent branches, and its leaves resemble the ygllois
willow in (Unit and color. Thisis supposed to be the
willow on which the children of Israel hung their hops
during their captivity.
Of native species, we have r many on the banks of all
our streams, in mountain swamps, and in dry woods.—
Many of them are only shrubs growing to the height of
two or three feet, while some of them on the banks of
our streams, as the black willow, (S. A7gra,) grow to
the heighth of fifteen or twenty feet. The willow be
longs to the twentieth class, and second order of the
Linnean system, and may at all times be known by its
cylindric catkins, which are composed of numerous
scales, with a small gland at the base. It blooms in
April, and its flowers are known to children by the name
of willow pussy*. The bark of the willow is tonic and
febrifuge.
Of the Poplar, we have in our county, the Lom
bardy Poplar, CPcpu:us which is an exo
tic. This is the tall straight poplar which we often see
along streets. It grows to the height of from sixty to
eighty feet, and is never propagated in this country from
the wed, as no pistillate tree of this species has eserbeen
brought to America. It is ; a native of the south of Eu
rope ; and the groves about Athens, in the days of its
greatness, were of this tree. It is raid that its name
comes from the tremulous motion of its leaves, resem
bling the fluctuations of the people. It is too well known
to need a minute description, and can easily be propoga
ted by cuttings stuck in the ground. It, however, is
growing into disfavor as an ornamental tree, although
its street is tine, as it is seen towering msjestically up
through, or near, clamp of forest trees. It is however
brittle in its branches, and liable to be defaced and brok
en, but its active growth soon clothes a dentuled bunch
with new shoots.
The White Poplar, or Americua Aspen. ( P. Tress.
Nioides: is a nature of our forests, and is found not only
on our high bills, hut in our Tallies and along the banks
of our sneams. It grows to the height of thirty feet,
with assmill leaf somewhat round knd pointed. Its hark
is soft and relrety, when young, antl„:zrbitish gray when
it is older. The tree poplar or large aspen. r p. Gran
dy to a larger tree than the American aspen, but
nearly resemb:es it in appeitance. It however differs
front it in the form of its leases, which hare not the
heirt-shaped depression at their insertion on the stem of
the American aspen.
The Rol n of dileodAns:tilota: is often found
et:lora:el about houses as an ornamental tree, and is
too wed known to require description. Like most other
trees of rapid growth, its branches are brittle, sal it de
cays early. Ali the species of the poplar are astringent
and tonic in char hark. They are of the twentieth class
and eighth order of the Linnean system—and Cower in
April.
The Inset Alder, rAbrus Se-enkla 1 is a noel
tree or shrub growing in wet places, and on the faiths of
oar stream, It bloorns-4ike tLe Ri low and p,,Faar—
in April, and bears its floe-era in aments, and grows from
Sto 15 feet in height. Its leases are orate, pointed and
veined. It is of the nineteenth class and facuth order of
the Lincoln ryenzi.
Tawar.da. April, tOth 1 546.
Tessa irvinz.-rime boars. hosr sweetly do they gri3e
Along the surface of time's murmuring stream!
The warm, bright sun diarseth far and wide
The life-fradibst intlcenoe of his mellow beam,
Green ersdure springs beneath the airy tread,
Freda o3ars breathe in eset.T . paring -cafe,
Tocrig sialeus ride akmg their amity bet's,
And tight-winged seek out the quiet rale:
The maunmin rill r.ngs gaily on in way.
Kissed by the daisies on its pethly share.
And si:eer eking the Iliac sky stray.
And on the earth blessings pour.
Lonely, most latch. =rat\ art thou cos,
a; y et queenly, all they gram are;
For He whose band r richiy gemzu - d thy brow.
Of his earn spirit gase.thyself a share.
Lore is thy beam Loris the far that wants
The almt&-ew fibre of thy giant frame,
The breath that sires the majesty of lamas,
Yet quells they with one gently whispered mama
The eillasey seas the stun rock lieutauvileft.
The home the lane forec-Saver,
Each wear the clam by that high spirit ieft.
To win the wayward by its gcickecing rower.
And is there. Lied. cese eye that lths&th net
With isalier light whsle war g thus 'Stood?
Gee bean whose ferrets prsyer sistesthsth not.
With asture's elacams.-e„ t nautre's God .7'
Thy grate fail! 's be Isiah is fell of thee:—
Kate then eseh sad. exec Holy One. the la=;
Baer drum in erceeks every Gmbh= bare.
Mame a= girthss with ea ®dying dame.
ttith the her =broken th.sa be Tees;
To every been as its soireasest good,
Thy km, become the bout ofeseb
Tb tip troth the era's day bed.
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA,TIRADFORD COUNTY, PA:; BY E. 0. & IL P. GOODRICH.
Dcretioual MCCItiIIS.
I=
HIEN
REOAPIMESS in DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER.'•
The Blockhouse—A Squatter's Story.
Supper over, and clenched by a pull at Na
than's Whiskey Bask, we prepared,. for the
departure. The Americans threw the choicest
parts of the buck over their rthoulders, and the
old squatter again taking the lead, we resumed
our march. The way led us first across the
prairie, then through a wood, which wrs suc
ceeded by a sort of a thicket, upon the branch
es and thorny shrubs of which we left numer
ous fragments of our dress. We had walked
several miles almost in silence, when Nathan
suddenly made a pause, and let the butt end of
his rifle fall heavily upon the ground, I took
the opportunity to ask him where we were.
" lii Louisiana." replied he, " between the
Red River. the Gulf of Mexico, and the Mis
sissippi ; on French ground, and yet in a coun
try where French power is worth little. Do
you see that." added he, suddenly seizing my
arm, and pullling me a few paces. aside, when
he pointed to a dark object, that, at the dis
tance and in the moonlight, had the appear
ance of an earthen wall, "Do you know
what this rg 2" repeated the squatter.
"An Indian grave, perhaps," replied I.
" A grave it is," was the answer. " but not
of the Redskins. As brave a backwoodsman
as ever crossed the Mississippi lies buried
there. You are not altogether wrong. 1 be
lieve it was once an Indian mound.
While he spoke, we were walking on, and
I now distinguished a hillock or mound of
earth. with nearly perpendicular sides. on
which was erected a blockhouse, formed of un
hewn Cypress trunks, of a solidity and thick
ness upon which twenty-four pounders would
have had some difficulty in making an impres
sion. Its roof rose about ten feet above a pali
sade. enclosing the building, and consisted of
stout saplings sharpened at the top. and stuck
in the ground at a very short distance from each
other, being moreover strengthened and bound
together with wattles and branches. The
building had evidently been constructed more
for a refuge and place of defence, than for an
habitual residence.
A ladder was now lowered, by which we
ascended to the top mound. There was a
small door in the palisades, which Nathan
opened and passed through, we following.
The blockhouse was of equal length and
breadth, and about forty feet square. On en
tering it, we found nothing but the bare walls,
with the exception,of a wide chimney of sun.
burnt brick, and in one corner a large wooden
slab, partly imbedded in the ground.
•• Don't tread upon that board." said the old
man. solemnly. as we approached the slab to
examine it ; it is holy ground."
•• How holy ground!"
...There lies under it as brave a fellow as
ecrr handled axe or .rifle. He it was who
built this blockhouse, and christened it the
Bloody Blockhouse—and bloody it proved to
be to him. But you shall hear more of it, if
you like. You shall hear how six American
rifles were too many fur ninety French and
Spanish muskets."
Carleton and I shook our heads incredulous
ly. Tne Yankee took us both by the arm,
led us out of the blockhouse, and through the
stockade to a grassy projection of the hillock.
" Ninety French and Spanish muskets."
said he, in a firm voice. and weighing on each
arm. " Opposed to them were Asa Nolins,
with hts three brothers, his brother-in-law, a
cousin, and their wives. He fell like a brave
American as he was, but not alone, for the
dead bodies of thirty foes were lying round
the blockhouse when he died. They are bu
ried there," added he. pointing to a row of
cotton-trees a short distance off, that in the
pale moonlight might hate been taken for the
spectres of the departed; under those cotton
trees they fell, and there they are buried."
The old squatter remained for a short space
in his favorite attitude, his hands crossed on
his rifle, and his chin resting on them. He
seemed to be calling together the recollections
of a time long gone by. We did not care to
interrupt him. The sullness of the night, the
light of the moon and stars, that gave the prai
rie lying before us the appearance of a silvery
sea, the sombre forest on either side of the
blockhouse, of which the edges only were
lighted up by the moonbeams, the vague allu
sions our guide bad made tb some fearful scene
of strife and slaughter that bad been enacted in
this now peaceful glade—all these circum
stances combined, worked upon our imagina
tions, and we felt unwilling to break the still
ness which added to the impressive beacity of
the forest scene.
yola ever ticrat down the Missinippi !"
asked Nathan, abruptly. As be spoke be sat
down upon tte bank, and made a sign i to us to
an beside him.
Did you ever float down the Mississippi!"
•• No; we came up it from New Orleans
hither."
•• That is nothing ; the stream is not half so
dangerous there as above Natchez. fire came
down, wiz men. four women and twice as many
children, all the way from the mouths of the
Ohio to the Red Riser ; and bad work we had
of it, in a crazy old boat, to pass the rapids and
avoid the sand-banks. and snakes, and sawy ers, ,
ail whatever the devil they call them, that are
met with. 1 calculate we weren't sorry
s when
we left the river and took to dry land again.—
The first thing we did was to make a wigwam,
Injun fashion, with branches of trees. This
was to shelter the Women and ebildren, Two
men remained% protect them. and the _other
four divided Into two parties, and set off. one
south and t'other west, to look for a good place
for a settlement. I aad Righteous, one of Asa's
brothers took the southerly track.
It was no pleasuring party that journey, but
a right down hard and dangerous expedition.
through cypress swamps, where snapping tue
des were plenty as muscat:ors. and at every
step the congo and mocassin snakes twisted
themselves round our ankels. We persevered.
however, we had a few handfuls of corn in our
hunting-pouches, and our calabashes well filled
with whiskey. With that and our rifles we
did not want for provender. •
At length, on the fourth day, we came win
II
1E;MI
upland. or rolling prairie as we mill it. from the
top of which we had a view that made oar
hearts leap for joy. A lovely imp of land lay
before us. bounded at the further end by s forest
, -
of evergreen oaks, beery, !meets, end catalpas;.
Towards the north was a good , ten mile of
prairie ; an the right hand a wood of cotton
trees, and on the left the forest in which you
now are. We decided at once that we should
find no better place thin this to fit. ourselves :
and we went back to tell Asa and the ohteis of
our discovery, and to show them the way Jo it.
Asa and one of his brot hers
, returned with us,
bringing part of our traps. They Were as pleas
ed with the place as we were, and we went back
again to fetch the rest. But it was no easy
matter to bring our plodder and the woman and .
children through the forests and swamps. We
had to cut paths through the thickets, and to
make bridges and rafts to cross the creeks and
marshes. After ten days labor, however, and
with the help of our ales, we weie at our jour
ney's end.
We began directly cleiiing and cutting doiirn
trees, and in three weeks we had built a log
hOuse, and were able to he down to rest with-
out fear of being disturbed by the wolves or
catamounts. We built tiro more loghouses so
as% have one for each two families, and then
set to work to clear the land. We had soon
shaped out a couple of fields, a ten acre one
for maize, and another half the size for tobac
co. These we began to dhl and hoe; but the
ground was bard, and though we all wor ked
like slaves, we saw there was nothing to be
made of it without ploughing. A ploughing
share we had, and a plough was easily made
—but horses were wanting ■o Asa and I took
fifty dollars, which was all the money we had
amongst us, and set out to explore the country
forty miles round, and endeavor to meet with
somebody who would sell us a couple of hors
es, and two or-three cows. Not a clearing or
settlemertydid we find, however. and at last
we returned discotiraged and again began dig
ging,. On the very day after our return, as we
were toiling away in the field, a trampling of
horses were heard, and four men mounted, and
followed by a couple of wolf hounds, came
cantering over the prairie. It struck us that
this would be a famous chance for burying a
pair of horses. sod Asa went to meet them, and
inviting them to alight and refresh themselves.
At the same time we took our rides. which wal
always lying beside us when we worked in 'the
fields, and advanced toward the strange's.—
But when they saw our guns, they put spurs
to their horses and rode off to a greater distance.
Asa called out to them not to fear, for our ri
fles were to use against bears and wolves and
Redskins and not against Christian men. Up
on this, down they came again; we brought
out a calibish of real Monongahela ; and after
they had taken a dram. they got off their hors
es, and came in and ate some venison, which
the women set before them. They were Cre
ole,. half Spanish. half French, with a streak
of the Injun: and they spoke a kind of gibber
ish not easy to understand. But Asa. who had
served in Lafayette's division in the time of
war, knew French well ; and when they had
eaten and drunk, he began to make a bargain
with them for two of their horses.
It was easy to see they were not the sort of
men with whom decent folks could trade.—
I First they wouldn't: which horses did we
want, and what would we give. We offered
them thirty-five dollars for their two best hors.
es—and a heavy price it was, for at 'that time
: money was scarce in the settlements. They
wanted forty. but at last took the thirty-five ;
and, after getting three parts drunk upon taffia.
which they asked for to wet the bargain as they
(
: said, they mounted two upon each of the re
maining horseshnd rode away.
We now got on famously with our fields.
and soon sowed fifteen acres of maize and to.
baeco, and then began clearing another ten
acre field. We were one day hard at work'at
this, when one of my boys came running to us.
crying out. •• Father! Father! The Redskins!"
We snatched up our rifles and hastening to the
top of the little rising ground on which our
houses were built, and thence we saw, not In
' j tins. but fourteen or fifteen Creoles galloping
towards our clearing. hallowing and Inizzaing
kite mad. When they were within fifty yards
of us. Asa stepped forward to meet them. As
soon as they saw him, one of them called out,
66 There is the thief! there is the man who
stole my brown horse!" Asa made no answer
_
to this, but waited till they came nearer, when
one of them rode up to him and asked who
was the chief of this settlement. .6 There is no
chief here," answered Asa we are all equal
I and free citizens."
6. You hare stolen a horse from our friend
Monsieur Crospier." replied the other. "You
must give it op."
I .6 Is that all I" said Asa quietly.
•• No; you most show us by what right you
hoot on this territory."
•• Yes." cried half a dozen others. •• we'll
I base no strangers on oar hunting grounds; the
bears and caguars are getting scarcer than ewer.
and as for buffalos. they are clean exterminat
ed." And all the time they were talking. they
I kept leaping and ialloping about like: madmen.
•• the sooner the bears and ciagars are kill
ed the better." said Au. ••• The land is not
! for dumb brutel. but for mem." .
The Creolei. however.
.persiited that, we
had no right to . bunt where wewere,and swore
we should go away. Then Asa asked them
what, right they had to send us awiy. This
seemed to embarrass them. and they muttered
and talked together; so that it was easy to see
there was no magistrate or person in . :.uthority
amongst them. but that that they were a party
of fellows who had come in hopes to frighten
us. At last they said thershould inform the
governor. and the commandant at Natchitoches.
and the Lord knows who besides, that we had
come and squatted ourselves down here. and
built houses, and cleared fields, and all without
right or permission; and that then we might
look oat.. So Au began to kite patience. and
told them they might go to the devil. and that
if they were out of soma he should boa apt to
hasten their gosetiltatn.
most have my hoive." screamed the Cre
ole whom they called Croupier.
Yuu shall," replied t.sa. •• both of them,
tf sou return the fine•atid•thirtvv dollars."
"It was only fifteen dollars," cried the lying
Creole.
oat
this Asa called to us , and we stepped
mit from amonat the cutton-trees, behind which
we had been standing all the while; and when
the Creoles saw us, each with his ride on his
arm, they seemed rather confused, and drew
back a little.
•• Here are my comrades." said Asa, who
will all bear witness, that the horses were sold
at the prices of twenty dollars for the one and
fifteen for the other. And if any one says th•'e
contrary. he says that which is not true.
Lartfari r reared Croupier. Yon
shan't stop here to call us liars, and spoil our
hunting grounds, and build houses on our land.
Hid eicellency the Governor shall be told - of
it, and the commandant at Natchitoches, and
you shall be driven away." And the other
Creoles who, while Asi was speaking. ap
peared to be geuing more quiet and reasonable.
now became madder than ever. and shrieked.
and . swore, and golloped backwards and for
wards, brandishing their fowling pieces like
wild Injuns.-and screaming out that we should
leave the country. the game wasn't too plenty,
for them, and suchlike. At lehgth Asa and
the rest of us got angry, and called nut to them
to take themselves off or they would be sorry
for it; and when they saw us bringing our ri
fles to our shoulders. they put spurs to their
horses, and gallopped away to a distance some
five hundred yards. There they halted. and
set up such a screeching as almost deafened us
fired off some of their old rusty guns, and then
rode away. We all laughed at their bragging
and cowardice, except Asa. who looked
thoughtful.
I fear some harm will come of this," said
he. Those fellows will go talking about us
in their own country; and if it gets to the ears
of the governors or commanding officers that
we have settlea down on their territory, they
will be sending troop to dislodge us."
Asa's words made us reflect, and we held
counsel together as to what was best to he
done. I proposed that we should build a block
house on the Indian mound to defend ourselves
in. if we were attacked.
"Fes," said Asa; "but we are only six,
and they may send hundreds against us."
" Very true," said I ; " but if we bare a
strong blockhouse on the top of the mound. that
is as good as sixty. and we could hold nut
against a hundred Spanish musketeers. And
it's my notion, that if we give up each a hand
some bit of ground as we have cleared here
without firing a allot, we deserve to have our
rifles broken before our faces "
Asa, however, did not seem altogether sat
isfied. It was easy to see he was thinking of
the woman and children. Then said Asa's
wife, Rachael, •• I calculate," said she, that
Nathan, although he is my brother, and I
onghn't to say it. has spoke like the son of his
father, who would haie let himself be scalped
ten times over before he would have given up
such an almity beautiful piece of land. And
what's more, Ass. I for one won't go back up
the omnipotent dirty Mississippi; and that's
a fact."
But if a hundred Spanish soldiers come,"
said AS?. " sod I reckon they will come I"
• Build the blockhouse.
.man to defend your
selves, and when our people up at Salt River
and Cumberland bear that the Spaniards are
quarreling with us. I guess they won't keep
their hacda crossed before them."
" So seeing us all, even the women. so de.
termined. Asa gave in to our way of thinking,
and the very same day we began the block
house you see before you. The walla were
all of young cypress trees. and, we would have
fain hare roofed it with the same wood : but
the smallest expresses were five ur six feet
thick, and it was no easy matter to split them.
So we were obliged to use fir, which. when it
is dried by a few day's suit, burns like tinder.
But we little thought when we did so. what
sorrow those cursed fir planks would bring as.
When all was ready, well and solidly nailed
and hammered together, we made a chimney,
so that the women might cook if necessary,
and then laid in a good store of hams and dried
bear's flesh, filled the meal and whiskey tubs,
and the water-easks, and brought our plough
and what we had most valuable into the block
house. We then planted the palieades, tecu
ing them strongly in the ground, and to each
other so that it might not be easy to tear them
up. We left. as yoi see. a space of Fite yards
between the stockade and the house. so that
we might have room to more about in. It
would be necessary for an enemy to take this
palisades before he could do any injury to the
house itself, and we reckoned that with six
good rifles in such hands as ours, it would re
quire a pretty many Spanish musketeers to
drive us from our outer defences.
In six weeks all was ready ; all our tools and
rations. except what we wanted for daily Use.
carried into the fon, and we stood contemplating
the work of our hands with much satisfaction.
Asa Was the only one who seemed down cast.
I"re a Wiwi." said be. ••this bloek-house
Will be bloody one. before l ; acd what's
triote.'t gtra it will be the blond of one of to
reddeii it_ rye ason of feelin' of it, and
of wtio it'll be."
Pho ! Asa. what notions be these !—Keep
a light bean man.'"
And Asa seemed to cheer op agiin. and the
next day we returned to working ii the fields ;
but as we were not using the bosses. one of 111
went every morning to patrol tenor twelve miles
backwards and forwards. just for precaution's
sake. - At night two of us kept watch. relieving
one another. and patrolling about the neighbor
hood alone clearing.
One morning we were working in the bush
and circling trees, when Ri r hteaus rode up in
full gallop.
They're coining r' cried he; •• a hundred
bitten!' at least"
"Axe they Ea off r said Asa. quiz quietly,
is if hi bid bees talking of a kid 4deel.
=Ed
Y.W.X.23= iffO
, .
They are coming over ihY praiiie. (ales;
than an huur they will Ity here. .
Boy are they marching - t• With nn and
rear guari ? In what Ruler .
.„, •
•• No order at all, but It'eap,toitther."
.• Gird !" said A‘l , ;:. tey can, ,
about Nall' fishing or
,anlittering of any
Now !hen, the women:int9 blinkhouse."
Righteous galloped up to - ,:ourforh to
be there
first in case the enerny,skiny find it Thy
women soon followeil;mqry'ing w hat thei,./tould
with therm When we, wrre all in the ,hlqck-,
house, we pulled up the ladder; made am gate
fait, and there we were. ‘: -
[EONCLETED NEXT WBEga
&atonable Mots for Farmeri:
QILANTI 1 OF GRAS, SERD PRA Acne.—
' Many of the failures which axise from the set
(mg of fields in grass, we are certain. arise
from the judgrhent of those who caused them,
to be thus sown. We have, therefore, ever
been the advocaie for editing on' the earth, an
ample quantity of seed.. Of Clover seed, When
sown alone,we Woultinever sow less than XStbs
I ict the acre. if Clover seed be sown . with
Orchard Grass, we would sow 12 fbs. of Plo-:
vet seed and a bushel of Orchard gra;s. Sneak
ing of Orchard grass, we will seiie the occasion
to remark that whenever the pasturage of cattle .
or the soiling of cattle May be intended, we
would neier sow the Clover alone—first, be.:
cause the admiitUre of the grasses toeether:
prevents the cattle from becoming affecte p d. with
haven ; secondly, because it makes a better
hay and thirdly, because it makes a much
more ISSOIIt pasture than does clover ainne,
and may be said to be a measurably earlier
grass, while it grows much later in
its treat- .
er substance, is better for , ruminating animals
than clover hay alone. Of Timothy, seed,
peck and a hat( should be sown. Of Herds
:irass or Red Top. a bushel to tltacre is the
proper quantity. If Orchard grass( seed be
sown alone. two bushels per acre is about the
right quantity. Of Lucerne, 20 lbs. per acre
is the right quantity. In the selection of Lu
cerne seed, care must be taken to get it fresh;
as seed more than a year old is very shy
coming up. Lucerne seed, by the by, should
always be soaked in warm water for a feir
hours before being sown, and as taken
out of the soak and drained, it should be rolle4
in plaster or ashes. Orchard grass seed should
also be sprinkled with water on a harnflocw,
turned over repeatedly SD as to moisten the
whole mass, and left a few ho urs, before it is
sown.
Oitcrissni.-Let the tree; in the Orchard be
carefully examined for dead limbs. These
ihould be carefully cutoff into the sound wood;
the wound smoothly faced with. a drawing
knife—this done, let a plaster of the following
mixture be applied over the wound : Take
equal parts of fresh cow dung, clay and slack:
ed lime, to be mixed together into the cßnsist
ency of mortar, and face the plaster with
covenng of thick paper to turn rain. The dead
limbs being cut off and the wounds dressed;
like a hard bruih—the clamp of a scrubbling
tirush will do—:and rub down the entire body
of the tree, then with a paint or white-wasit
apply toe following mixture to the body of
each tree p far as you can reach, extectding
down to the roots: Mix together five gallons
of soap. one pound of kulphar, and a gallon of
salt. When perfectly incorporated together.
it will be fit to be applied.
if the Orchard has not been recently manur
ed and in culture, a gentle dressing of compost
made of Gee parts of forest-mould, two parts!
rotten dung, and one part lime, would greed*
improve the quality of the froit by being
ploughed in shallow—or if it should not be
convenient to plough it in, harrowing will an ;
ewer; but whether the plobgh or harrow be
used, care must be taken not to injure the roots
of the trees.
St nsott, Ptotronrco.-4 writer in the Olt
., tivator sass : Last winter I purchased a sub.
soil plough. and used it just enough to satisfy
myself that it is a Teryousetul implement for
' a farmer.. I had corn the present year where
it was used, that suffered seri- little, if any;
from the drought. while on land within eight
rods. of the same quality. but not subseiled. the
corn was entirely killed by drought. l ato-
J satissed that I might hare sated the price of
my subsoil plaugh. b• using, it one'diy on tn.jr
corn land the present season
lapis far April:
There es. perhaps, no month in the feat
which should be more deeply interesting to the
Amencan hu,Mandmac, and thus believing, we
will proceed to all the attenutio of our brethreti
to go to cork in right good earnest, so that they
may always command their ow o time. and base
the pleasing saisfaction to know whin they
may retire to rest at night. that they bare emit
ted ersihing which they shou . ld bare attended
to, and that their business is not behind hand,
With this brie! introduction, we shall Proceed
to sketch an outline of some ot the things which
should be attended w.—.3szericao Fames.
Fn . /res.—lf ou have not already availed
yourself of our last awn We admonition, delay
no longer, but go forth at once and examine
every panel of fence. gates and bars on your
farm. and promptly have every necessary re
patr made. as it is y.seless to put in crops unless
you previously secure them against the dem..
dations of tnischievious axi nals.
Prrporarion cj Gromad mad Me Sawing of
0.815.-11 is in nt; anted fact that the eariteroats
are got Into the ground. the better chance there
orht.t filling and yielding wa. While it
is . diEcult to fix a day in a country lake ours
on which to sow Mem, it is perfectly safe to
lily, that the ground should be plowed for the
reception of the seed as soon as the frost is out
of it and sufficiently relieved of moisture to ad
mit of heist! well plowed. It is cot necessary
that one should wait until he is ready to sow his
oats--nay.on the contrary, it is far better that
the groutid should be plowed king enough to
settle down and become compact before the
seed be coin - milted to it;