ri
,
.
LEAMirk =n•Q
TOW ANDA:
yataraan tilorninp, Clamber 24. 1958.
,Stittt6 VOttrt
THE WORLD AS IT IS.
ry
4 The world is not as 'bad a world
As some would like to make it;
I.*
Though whether good or whether bad
Depends on bow we take it;
. .1" For if we fret and scold all day,
From dewy morn till even,
This world will ne'rrafford to MR
A foretaste here of heaven.,
The world's in truth as good a world
As e'er was known to any
Who hive not 'seen another yet—
• And these are very Many:
And if the men and ii - i'adnen too.
Have plenty of eroppfyment,
Those surely mint be 'Hard to please,
Who cannot rind enjoyment.
: 3 4
This world is quite a clever *odd.
In rain or pleasant weather,
li people would but learn to lies
lu harmony together;
Nor seek to burst the kindly bond
Br love and peace demented,
And learn the' best of lessons yet,
1:0 always be contented.' •
Then were the world a pleasant world,
And pleasant f ,Iks were in it,
The day would pass most pleasantly
T o those who thus begin it:
And al; the nameless grierauce4,
ttronht on by borrowed trouble►,
11" r Id prove, as certainly they are,
A muss of empty bubbles.
Original bit.
W" , " ,. 1 , for the Bradford Reportrr Mr
7
-7 ;1 7• r112 ( ..D114
'
)
n sToln'lor 111 E Fl'illEß'S SON
IVe live Ina ,trange world—one that is strange
rrrry trarlirrlar. Vt?! . .at wonder then, that strange
What wonder that ,tiange , 4teds
;...! ,, t,e—,l , ed, that FCnd thtitin oh j , ”, or terror
• a.:11 ;he land , Many would sa3, that men make
wo , ld what ; arid ibis too, may be title;
teen the world was made first, ant! of course,
made for man. Where once the darkness lay
a e,ktud over the land; there the light of day now
-11, 1, ea ul itf. clutetites'S, some daiksotne fired is
e ihat sots a (6 . e( in the. `bond ut aze. told
, t;es the infant's sinews in_
as steel 4* Where
ee a nation stood et..rty tog elf the " arts of peace,..
• t- -006 11;e
\le , terin2; squadron and' thelelattering ear,
podelrig futW.ll"3 W.lOl impetuous speed,
\i„; syeitily formula in the ranks of war.
-
env. tamely, over whose destiny poverty hail
1. , •r tilt. k veil, there the light ut wealth
eet a o d they revel in scenes to them salute un.
ta(irc , The.vvorld is cOntinualy stirred up with
;.. ) 715•0i,e,, and one is hardly forgotten ere ano'h
r,earil of. Alice Carey says " the ground war k
..te is al way s in shadow," the light glimmers fur
- I.se'flie aid then fades out. /If then this world is a
rn)s - eirtilikone, and utir strange being.iti.
ice:1111, What wonder if th 4 minds of young; and old
oe ;Died fancies strange and mconceivable ?
i,e mid love to talk over the deeds of their boy.
tlad, and revive the memories of earlier days.—
e pung.loo,must have their fancies—their day•
lookings-down the dreamy iis.a
.e Thuyoutti Ives to tell the fair Coin
jart.nt by his side, of his hues; when ;tie--y shall
grown up, when they perhaps shall lire to
zeePr 'Death the same cottage roof. now he loves
ngili.r•The picture over with the gayest coliirs, little
•dreamut, of what might come, instead of his fancied
earn ul happiness.
14 one of our little sea side fo , .vtis, not many years
3 : tore, there lived a little boy, who would not be
known tom ethers of hie; age, by any peculiar traits.
'here Has nothing in his external appearance to
ad oat remarks, save now and then the fla,hing
4 his brighilblack eye, that told of intellectual fires
,
,;) vorning fir beneath the gaze of the world ; and
witch one day might blaze limit when orer‘
' around had ceased burning,. He was quick tem
pered, yet If.ind— he was poor, yet honest. He was
one given today-dreams. Often when young,' did
r Le lotto plans for the (ware, which ne'er might be
realized. He was a fisherman's son, who hail come
many years Pine o this land, horn the tar off plains
Ills only business was in selling.fiets
tartpratid doing errands. Sometimes he worked
'frets at a time with some lamily where he tried
;o make himself friendly. 'Often did his bright eye
;13,4 1 indignantly, when turned harshly away trom
;he door of some high born aristocrat. In that little
village of Ellsdaleohere lived numbers of wealthy
families who sought that pleasant. retreat - to spend
their days in the enjoyment of their plenty. There
was one of these families, that of Major Anderson,
with whom Carl Raimer, the tiAerman's son, spent
considerable 'ef his time. This lamily had tired
long in Ellsdale, and. were well known there The
Major was an extensive ship 'chandler, and wad
boiled up to as a man• of wealth and responsibility.
He had only two uhildren; a son nearly grown; ..
who was to follow his lather's business, and a little
dauglver, a lair bright-eyed girl, scarcely twelve
summers oil. They lived in the moat pleasant
;Et fit the village. in ,a splendid man-ion. It seem
"i as it they had ehosen this spot to like in, in or.
Zer that they /night loOk down upon tbeir poorer
neighbors. Indeed they were the very proudest in
sit that village circle. One could tell them all, even
the little Carrie, by their proud step and - the haugh
ty loss of the head
' Carl always found ready 'sale fur his fish there,
sod °hen got other jobs from them to do. At the
lane I write'of, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were 'on a
to some northern city, and left the children
• oi ! house keeper. Little Carl was kept
THE RA I
- • '
„FOR POR'
TER
CI
I=
at work, doihg various things Inthe kitchen almost
all the time. At times 11e would look out into the
beautiful garden and see the gay lift% Carrie, busi
i 4' playing up and down the walks, and would feel
almost envious. It was then his feelings would
get the mastery of him, and he woutd sigh for
wealth and pleasure. He longed, not as many do,
to have the world their own—but to feel himself a
sharer, and to mingle in the world with an armor
on. He wished not to conquer worlds, and be en
throned a king, but simply to be on a level with
otherk around. He saw things carelessly used up
and thrown away around him, vliich would well
satisly him. He was ambitious—be would not al
ways be a low.born menial for the rich.
It was a lovely night in Autumn time, and Carrie
Anderson sat in the drawing room, busying herself
with some old pictures. As-she sat there by the
window, once and a white looking out into brigri
,ky clothed with:stars, like a bride with jewels, a
noise as of Me door opening, aroused her. She
looked, 1?1.1 the fisherman's son stood there. She
-thought first r(Osend him away, but soon she tho't
that she was lonesome, end that she would make
company of him.
"Are you lonesome to night, Carl!" said she,
kindly.
"No more than I always am," said the boy, as
if afraid to look the girl in the lace.
Don't you want to see. my drawings!" said
she, again.
•
"No. lam in no mood for hardly anything; I
have just come .in to say a few words to you
alone
" Why, Carl, what can be the matter with you?''
" I hardly knoi/ myself, but I have made up my
mind to leave FJlsdale, and have just time to bid
you 'goon:-bye.'
" Good-bye, Carl ! why, you are really crazy;
talk of leaving this-pretty village, and all your
triends t to wander alone and a stranger?".
" No, I am not crazy, but I have made - up my
mind to be somebody, and not drudge my way
through the wortd this way."
" How queer fur you to come heirs at mis nom,
to talk so toolts:tly to me ; ;' said Carrie, and her
merry laugh rang through the room.
Well, I may be foolish, but it is not foolish to
be a menial to the sons of ease, when one can .4
better." He said this with an air of confidence, and
his bright. eye kindll-ignalitly.
" And now, Crylie„ just give me something to
remember Eller le and yourself by, and then good
bye." As he-said this,she tore down one of her sun-
G , ) „,i bye, Carlbtit You'll forget your faolish
aess by morning, 1 guess." -
Aal thus Carl took hbi leave, and she tbougtd
littlelitnore of him, only that she would tell her nib
ther when -bite carne home hoW queer Carl acted
of La-, •
Front tlr.rt tirne,noi hing was seen or heard of him.
%%mous riciries were told of him, beta!! agreed that
he had lelt on account of 'lll3 falier's harsh treat.
merit, ant that it would be better Or him. There
were others who soon tilled up his place, and he
was foigorteri, 'as it were. The Andersons itame
home, and they only missed cart when they had
some errand to - be done'
Yeats flew by, brin.qing chan2,es everywhere, and
not a lew in The Andersons kept on in
business, and money — Tilinost flowed into their cof.
lets. Still the old man was always busy, as eager
as.ever for wealth. About this time, or a few months
later, there.was numerous failures of large business
films all over the land, anilmotig the rest was Mr.
Anderson. No one ever dreamed of such a thins,
add they could scarcely • t.s4lieve it; but notices IQ
that effect was shortly atter seen ,announcing the
fiiiture to the woild. The cause of this failure whs
never knownto the - world at large. - Mr Anderson ;
however, did succeed in saving enough to boy him
a hole cottage in the country, where fie hoped to
spend the temainder of his days. Sion atter, they
exchanged their elegant mansion for: an humbler
cottage, more suited to their narrow income.
****• • • * *
. A year flew by, and Mr. Anderson died. They
had now a lonely dzelfing indeed. Charles too,
had to leave for a clerkship in the city, and Carrie
was lel, behind to comfort her mother in her sor
8113
Not long alter they heard an attempt was being
made by their mellitus - a to wrest (ram them even
their present little income. •They soon found it ne.
cessary to be on their guard, and to: procure legal
aid. They found lawf . ers enough, but none willing
to undertake their almost lippeless ease. They ad
vertitpd, but succeeded not ;—they round none, and
had well nigh despaired ; when one day there came
to them a letter with an unknown post-mark, which
promised aid, and stated a lawyer would be with
quint on the following evening.:
The evening came, and with it, a young man of
I very prepossessing appearance, who said he had
heard at their troubles, and then offered them his
services. Mrs. Anderson plainly told him that if
she failed in lecover'ng her property, be would lose
his fee.
That, he said, was of hula matter to him, for be
undertook for them of his own choice. He gave
his name as Raymond.
There seemed to be something- roniantic, an a
Young man of hie own free will, coming such a dis
tance, to aid them in their troubles with no hope of
recompense. j This was mysterious, and hereby
hangs item ol account to our story.
It lacked some four or five weeks of court time,
and young Raymond proposed in that time to pre•
pare htmselt. He many times had occasion to visit
the'Andersone in their humble roof, and doubtless
was no unwelcome guest. The long summer even
ings went happily by; hour after hour was spent
in talking, while seated in_ that ruined old portico.
He was an enthusiast—a lover of the great and the
beautifid—every tree and sighing brook—every star
above—every bird and tiny it.sect spoke volumes
to him and his poet nature ()mirk
B
II
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY,-PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
EM:M:=::=3
11
" REGARDLESS OF DENCRWLATION FB.OX ANY QyAIf.TEI .11
finch an one could Scarcely fail being a friend to
C4rrie Anderson, for she was a very Nymph—one
01'41 loved alike the flower on the craggy hill side,
and the streamlet gurgling through the meadows.
From being only friends, they soon became eta.
dents; and often when summer breezes stole gent
ly over the hills, and the birds had hushed their
music in the tree tops, then they talked together ol
the future, and gazed wishfully down its dreamy
wastes. He told hero( his hopes of winning
,their
fortune back for them. He was more anxious for
this than he had ever been tor anything. His life
was in it. He wouldtrather die than fail.• At length
the day came round and-with it many anxious hearts
to Ellsdale. There were mu there who were
conscious that the Andersone must lose, and when
they saw those grey haired lawyers arrayed against
one youthful one, they'did indeed: despair. And
here let us pass over the usual preliminaries of such
courts of justice.
The lawyers for the plaintiffs had both made
pawed°, speeches, and it did seem as if only one
decision could be . made. At length the tall, pale
lawyer arose and come forward with a. confident
air, unusual for him, and began a speech which
soon astonished older heads than his. None failed
to understand• his clear logic, and while his manly
•voice rung through those old halls, his lac,e seemed
lighted up as with hidden fires. He poi:neat* those
who lain would seize the last dollar of the poor, and
with cruel words send them out beggars upon the
earth. He pointed to the village burying-ground: r
and revived the memories of one long dead, and
then with the deep, burning words of hie soul stir•
ring eloquence, pointed to the aged widow who .
mighi soon be fortuneless if not triendless. His
frame trembled with excitement, and those dark
eyes glittered wildly in their sockets. It was a mas.
ler effort—bo h old and young were electrified.—
He was successful.
* >i * A month passed by, and the Anderson*
were again living in their old mansion, restored to
all their former wealth.
Yoting Raymond left the village soon alter the
4 ".. 1 , on matters of business, he said, but was to re•
turn soon. After a mom of ro he calumet( and
found his Iriends enjoying all their former fortunes.
He spent an hour with them in talking arid receiv
ing their thanks, and then he went forth with Car
rie for a walk in that garden whose memories wets
dear to both.
It was just evening, of one bright summer day,
and everything around seemed breathing nature's
praises. The moon beamed brightly from out het
broad expanse.
It was a calm—a holy hour, when kindly emo
tions throng the'breast and prompt to every gene?
ous deed. There was no sorrow mingled with
their happiness. Hour after hour stole slowly by,
and found them seated together beneath the oji.l
vine circled arbor. They had wandered round and
round those pleasant walks and shades, and now,
as seated there, dial young man told that maiden
of his hopes, and breathed in her ear the low•toned
words of 1119 love. And when with cautious voice
he a-ked her tribe hiv; her answer was only one
little word. There were hearts in SlWale lighter
tor that walk among the groves and shades of An
derson's mansion at night'a stilly hour.
Aud here agaiile t t us!pa-s over a brief space of
time. The chill Inds b( winter had once more
blown over the earth, and spring-time come again.
The mansion of the Andersons was arrayed for
a feast. The gay and the beauty had gathered there
to witness the marriage scenes. There were joy.
ous hearts there—those that had never tasted life's
botetness—thase that had never mingled in the
world's fierce strife, or known her stern, realities.
Beauteous maidena and noble men made: p that
noble throng, and fond hearts that knew nol guile,
whispered words of truth and kindness.
And. music, too, was there—music that conquers
all—music that quells the fiery spirit and sfiothes if)
Mt's" peace—music that lifts the spirit up and ct7ms
the weary into almost forgetfulness.
The soft, seraph like notes of the tarp sounded.
Mrough . thone gorgerius halls, and mirth and faugh i
ter ritog out apart the evening air. Burnished lamps
hung from the polirhed4eilings and cast their light
over gay-clad matrons-and blooming ehildivM.
Evening breezes, lik the "scented gales at . Ara•
by,the blest," fanned r6e cheek of young and 014,
add all nature without seemed dressed in gala-day
costume
An hour passed by, and the young wile stood
beside her husband in the old drawing room, look•
ng out upon the clear sky beaming brightly, as it
to Vast a hero over their future. The young bus
band drew a,etrriir, and they sat down. He was
the first to speak—
Carrie, eanst remember just thirteen years ego
o-night, when Carl Reimer bade you his last good
night I"
Carrie started, as if some strange dreamitad came
over her
"Yep, I remember well, and fear I have done
wrong in never mentioning it but how should you
know ought oI him ?"
"Dust little think ihat Carl Reimer sits beside you!
Dost little dream Jibe love he has always bore for
you? Have yoo torgotten the BLUE mason you
gave him He never forgot you—and here is the
Glue ribbon now," and he showed it.
Carrie was astonished; but when she had listen
ed to his lilies story, she laved alike the fisher'sson
and the young lawyer Of later days.
Not long alter Col Iliad returned to El!Wale, he
found Mat he W 29 not the fisherman's son, and that
his name wax net Reimer. His true name was
Carl De Male, the heir of a sich,old planter in
Florence. 4
People hesitate,d_to believe his story, but the
bright flashing eye of youth when injured, and that
of the lawyer in court, were the same.
The following week the young and happy couple
left for a visit to sun.ty Italy, accompanied by a
wither and brother After enjoying a season of
1=:EIEIEMIIIEIMMI
E
pleasure in that ancient eityithtiortented and stilt
live in Eilsdale.
Often 'tie Cad's delight,to talk 01/6t the trials 01
the fisher's son, and the dory tithe bbse ribbon'.
Winttr.
Summer, like some queenly matron with loose
and flowing monde, has swept gracefully by. The
curtain has fallen on her final words, and now the
golden haired Autumn leads the old man. winter
on the stage. With tattering step and thin white,
locks he totters forward. His long and heavy robe
he holds closely i tolded over hia spare and shiver
ing breast, and his cold white teeth chatter in the
frosty air. His eyesore clear and hard and gray,his
voice cracked and sharp and thin, and his beard be.
spangled with frozen dew drops. At his approach
the earth seems to shrink and. crouch, the very
heavens to lift themselves up, and the state -to re
cede farther into the blue depths above. Before his
chilly breath the branches grow bare, the feathered
songsters cease their merry notes, the murmuring
water is hushed, and all nature, es in respect to
his old age, becomes more thoughtful and silent.—
With an unmoved face—an , unmoistened eye, he
looks upon the bleak and desolste earth, and tot.
tens on. Few to consider his stormy brow and
wasted cheeks would think him kind; but in , the
old man's heart there are many warm and cozy
corners. While the bleak winds whir le cold and
clear, lifting his snowy locks in their us e caress
while over his brow breaks no smile, and his out.
ward seeming bespeaks the death of life, the waste
of joy, yet within there may be found summer
and "music—birds which sing a 'cheery song, and
fountains that gush with lisppiness. He brings not
with him frowns and chilling blasts alone—but also
the bright warm fireside, the dear old books, and
the gay gatherings of youths, and beauty ss Well.—
And to him, who hath the twin-flower of life grow
ing at his aide, to bloom in the sunshine and nestle
closer in the storm, how fleet the moments fly.—
Like Parthenia tor e the son of the forest, she will
* sing sweet songs, and tell brave tales,' and in the
melody of the lutelike voice, time rides a dashing
race. Around the frozen, hrow of nature, love binds
its brightest garland, sunlight in the frown of winter
seeks its lenge in the heart. With unsteady step
he will soon go his _way; and the bright eyed youth
whom they call Spring, with a song on his tips and
a wreath on his brow, will trip gayly forth and bid
the world good morrow.
PAIIpLe Yourt OWN CANOR.—Young man you
better that pi?? hook,. See that young man who
gets into a canoe, bought with money of his patents
or his friends_ When the veSsel is launched, he
must have it paddled by hired hands, while he lolls
back, and seems nothing but an unsubstantial shad
ow of himself in the smooth waters. 8y and by
the canoe, through carelessness and presumptuous
sleeting, is dashed among' tie rapitlA, and goes
down. Should he crime up again ; he finds that he
is abandoned by alt, and that he has made a wreck
where he might have made a fortune.
Young man or. woman ! paddle your own canoe
Even if you are (rimed with parents or friends who
can give you one, be sure you earn it by t the wor.
thiness of your lives. In high purpo-es, in noble
resolves, in generous deeds, in purity and virtuous
endurance, and blameless convers'ation, let your
endeavors to paddle,your own canoe be seen by'all.
Pull away ! If the paddle breake by atriying against
the rapids, have inother ready. It you have but
one; poll with the slurry of the old, Don't relax
one effort. One 'Stroke lost and it'may- bet the fatal
one.. Pull away ! Your - Canoe, if you halve built it,
like your frientyof the right material in ,your char
acter; will hold as foing as yourself will. Pull sway
and before long you may find. yen/sell/ea in as fair
haven as the man that " paddles hie own canoe."
AN E•Pla AND AN
true
—Obstacles in the
path of a man o f true metal are tit! incitements to
enterprise,,and rhewarrants of ultrenate
To do greatly we_ Bust dare greatly, is a maxim
of approyed wisdom; and ,he who risks nothing
will almost certainly achieve nothing—at least
nothing worth achieving. It istowever worth whtle
to distinguish between reaf and imaginary Alps, and
between impediments which can-ibe removed unit
those which will defy all reasonable endeavor; for
their ilisplenteris.‘ Some &Sallies are really
Instirmoureable and some are not valonh the trouble
of surmounting., When there is . " a (ion in the way"
it may be the part of wisdom to, keep out of it
'Apropos of lions a good story is told of Gen. Jack
so.). A young Tennesseean having been taken
prisoner by the Whist! near New (Means, was ask
ed how far it teas tothe city. " Six miles," was
the reply. "Then we will reach there to-morrow,''
said the other. 1, Yuy wilt fiUtl a rough road," said
the Terinesseean. "Alt:what is in the way r "OW
Hickory r said the young man. The obstacle prov•
ed more formidable than the traveller had antici
pated.
();:r A sick man slightly Convalescing, recendy
remarks the Greenop Record, itnagined himself to,
by engaged in conversation with upon* hienil, con
grntnisting him upon his recovery, and asked him
who his physician was. lie isplied " Dr.—
brought me through."
" No, no," said the fr iend, " God brought you
Through illness, not the doctor."
I. Well," replied be, " maybe he did,' but I am
certain that the doctor will charge me for ii."
(gr . An Irishman once riding to market with a
sack of potatoes before him ihicovereil that hiebonie
was getting tired, whereupon he dismounted : put
the sack on his stun:ll3er*, and again mounted: lc It
was natter that be should carry the prune, as he was
fresher than the poor baste."
Otr 1 ' I have very Wile respect (or the nee of
thee world° as the chap raid when the rope waa put
around hie neck.
a
0
II
ildtaati, the &cassia' OK
The first time we hear of Schamyl is in 1832
In that year, a devout Mussulman,
held a chief command in the bands of Lesghians,
Tehewhentzes,.and other tribes at the eastern chain
and the steppes abutting on the Caspian and tracer.
esed by the Koiso. reputation for
sanctity was greater than that which he acquired
for the higher military qualities, although a dashing
leader, and individually one of the, loaves' of the
brave. He . was brought to bay 10832 by Gen.
Rosen, at a place called Gurnri.
Encircled on' all sides, almost, the last map of
food devoured, nothing remained, in the opinion of
Rasi-Mollah and about thirty of his most zealous
disciples, but to hew for themselves a path through
the Russian bayonets, to Leedom or to Paredisee
either alternative a welcome one. This resolution
finally taken, they suddenly emerged from the last
nese they could no longer hold, and burst upon the I
Russian troops with the shock of an avalanche, an
the furious, discordant yells of a troop of madmen.l
For one or two brief moment,. it seemed that they
must escape, so far through the beleaguring circle
of their toes did they cleave their desperate way,
before the momently recoiling ranks reclosederound
them, and they fell by twos cud threes, wildly
fighting to the last, riddled by musket balls and
bayonet stabs. Kasi-Mollah " died err ith his hand
on his beard, and a last prayer marnin' ring bum his
lips ;" and Isis pupils perished with him, all save
one, and he the bravest and fiercest of them all, Who
broke through the encirefing bayonets, dashed at
headlong speed past the more distant lines of run.
fling fire unharmed—reined snidenly up as he
reached the angle of a mountain gorges into which
he knew none dared to follow, shook his red sci
meter, and hurled a defiant execration into the face
baffled_ foe 4, and the next moment, with, an exul
tant shout of " Allah ! 11 Allah !" disappeared in
the dark mountain pass.
The fortunate Wiseman was Schamyl, the future
Iman, (preacher,) the prophet soldier of the Cau
casus, whose escape, as just desetibed, many of his
followers to 'hie day firmly believe was due to the
direct interposition of the Angel Gabriel ! Schamyl,
who is onlebt the dark-eyed, dark-haired, partly
Tartar race of Tchetchenizes, was born at Debit- .
skei, a place of about 3,000 inhabitants; and after
his escape from Gumry, he employed several years
in perambulating' the mountains of the Lesghian
chain, preaching wherever he went with fervid elo
quence upon the sacred duty,'devolved by God up
on all true believers, to extirpate We intrusive in
prophet.call, as it was deemed, to battle from the
cupolas and minarets of the sublime and towering
Alps, gradually kindled the latent fanticism of the
mountaineers to a flame, which soon communicet
inlet! e? the dwellers in the ;cities and steppes of
Baghtiitan, and adjacent ,valleys and plains. The
story ul Schaym I's miraculous escape from General
Rosen, by favor of the archangel Gabriel, was re•
peeted from month to month, with endless retie
lions and additions—his during, skill and success
as a soldier Confirtned the illusion of the credulous
bigotry ; and he gradually drew around his stan
dard, and bent to his 'arty, the multitude of rugged
warriors whose swords have inscribed so many vic
tories upon the backs of the Russian ill in ies, arid to
this hour pibsent an invincible front 'to their' dis
mayed, and practically diseonititted adversaries.
Many well-authenticated ins'aneee of his dating' ,,
are related. One or two of these may interest the
reader at this juncture. to Nu. &limy! found
himself surrounded by General Grubbs, and 12,000
veteran Russian troops, at Achulko, a kind of mud
encampment perched upon the top of a rock on the
banks of Koine. The position of this place was so
strong, that the attempt to storm it was abandoned,
of er the lose of 1500 men ; but Schantyl had soon
a deadlier foe•than General Grabbe and his army to
cantend with—hunger ; hunger,.verging upon fain
'. me, came before a week hail passed. This was
known in the Russian camp; anti the place having
been saucily , invested on all shies, 'lt was certain
that the surrender could not be lotig delayed. On
the l'asr day but, one of August, General Grabbe
learned, horn eyit emancipated Lesghian whom' Ins
soldiers had caught, whilst attempting to crawl past
the blockading, Imes, that nut a particle of food was
left in Aculko ; that Scltamyl Bey proposed to es
cape that very night with one or two chosen com
rades, by means of a ripe lowered down the face
of the rock to the Koisa; and Achulko, he added,
besurrendered . immediately 'afterwards. A strict
watch was - immediately ordered to be kept id the
indicated spot, and directions were :even to awake
the General whatever hour of the night the captare
'of the redoubts:al Schayml might be efieettel.
Just before dawn, one—two—three men were
seen to cautiotTaly descend by a rope, let gently
down on the river side, as predicted, who were of
cowrie instantly secured, andburried off to the gen
teal's. tent. Ole of the captives edmitted, in the
flurry of the surprise, as was supposed, that he
wile Bellamy' ; anti this was confirmed by the Les.
ghain, through whose inlormatiou - the important
prize had been secured. Gen. Grabbe was delight.
ed, and an catofitie w.es forthwith despatched, with
the tidings that the notorious rebel, Schamyi Rey,
had been caught, and ordered to be shot out of '
hand. Whilst all this was going on, the rope,
which had been quietly drown up again, was once
more, lowered, and this time only one man descend
ed by it, who reached the river unobserved, leaped
upon a raft that just at that critical moment swept by
,and . the! too hastily: exultant Russian generals
waseroused to a knowledge of the trick that had
:beeri played him by shouts 01" Schamy I! Scha
myl!" from the mud evallsof Achulkn, in exulting
reply to the waiving of a small green flag, by the
trite Schamyl, as he swept down the • swill Koisa
in the , dawning sunlight, presently to 'find bimseif
amidst hills and among friends, that -would render
successful pursuit, if attempted, impossible. /wh
elk° surrendered -at ditectitoo, the huts were burn
ed, and Gelietal Gribbe retraced his steps in a very
- • .
I. •
angry mood, which& daring such en hL festiped,
by the übiquitous and Indefatigable &hemp, at die
head of a large body of horse, esupenued to fury.
The Imam was beaten off with some difficulty, and
the victorious general 4 march was sollenly mam
a!, end concluded without further molestation."
Sin IsAIG NSWTOX.—Of the courtship of this il
lustrious philosopher, I have somewhere teed an
anecdote ; although it is not to be found in several
lives of him which f have scotched. it is well
known ha was often ebssnt•minded ; that for exam.
ple, he would immetanes rise sad sit for several
hours by his bedside undressed, .and absorbed is
mooed; that be would often Angel to din. until
reminded by his domestics, Mar to live it was rte.
ccasary to eat.
•
Once and once only be loved o f voting woman.
One evening they were seated by the firesii.
giat/. He sst silently smoking. She was .too
proud of his love to be offended by his condoct".-
At length he took bis pipe from his mooth,t a nc l l
seized her hand. She expected that-he was t
o kiss it. Instead of doing so, however, be stared
the tobacco in the head- of his pipe with bet fors,
finger—a rather odd substitute for a pin, She was
angry with him and their coimship ended.
EcorromY Vitives.—A young married' mensal,
who has pot had the opportunity of profiting by the
advice and esample of a good mother, will I find
some difficulty at first in spending her money to
the beat advantage; for there is an art in spending
money, though it is getting rid of it. Some women
will keep house respectably and plentifully on one
third less money than will be remined by others,
or without either meanness or illiberal dealing Bur
to do ►hi•, judgment, fore thought, and experience
are necessary. One woman shall be able to tell
you.how much her housekeeping costs to a shill
ing, while another cannot guess within ten. The
former has method, role, regularity, and • certain
sum assigned to her; with the latter it is all hap
hazard—ii comes and it goer, she neither knows
- how, nor cares. And this is almost sure' to be the
case if the money is. doled out by her husband in a
few shillings at a time.
0;:r " I have a yoingster who I , takes after" his
mother ennugh to have always been, since begain
ed any control over his vermicular, propense to odd
sayings occasionally. When between 3 and 4 years
old, he had been reading the story of Jonah, as 'no-,
lated in some of his little books. Alter his perusal
rernernberei. His recitation wastery aeenratenn,
til this question was'proposed : " What did Jonah
do after his delivery from the fish 7" " Why, Pa.
pa," said he, " I don't exactly remember; but L
suspect he " washed off," and theu " put for Nitstt
seh!" "
Ct:j- A. bright little girl, four years of age, was
riding in the country with her uncle a short time
since, when, in passing a farm-yard, they saw a
peacock. "Oh! look! look ! look !" said the little
girl ; " see the pretty bird !" " Yes," said her un
cle, but without stopping. " But stop the horse, un
cle ; I want to look at him longer," said little Ma
ry. " I can't," he said, " l'in in a hurry.": Mary
hesitated a moment, then giving her doll, which
she held in her hand, a toss to the side of the road.
" There, Uncle Eb," said she, "you get out and
pick up my !aby, while I , look at the bird !"
a
Wasint that rather cute lot little girl lour years
old ! •
Kr The Knickerbocker tells a good story ,of
little fellow, who was forbid by his mother, from
going to the brook to swim. One day he bloke her
command, and do putting on his shirt, he got the
wrong side out. His mother quickly discovered
this, and knowing he had been disobeying her or-
ders, she asked him how his shirt came inside out
This was a stomper, under which the little' rogue
stammered for a moment, then brightening up, 'he
replied triumphantly, " 0 t 1-1-guess 1 turned it
getting over the fence !"
To Must swsy Itsts.—A friend has - inforrned
its of a plan he adopted to get rid of rats. His pre•
anises swanned with them. He took a small fish
hook, attached to a fine wire, and ruspended on it
plectiof cheese, letting it hang about a foot from
the ground. One of the rats leaped at it and was
hooked, and -set up such a horrible squeal, noise
and rattle, that all the rest forsook him and fled.—
Not a rat remained on the premises. ,4
The swan flower of Venciuls, when in lull
bloom, resembles in one position, le await with
closed wings, and in another, with outstretched
wing. The interior of the flower is exceedingly
beautiful. Venexula also produces a flower galled
a pigeon-flower—it it like a bird's nest in shape,
while its stamens and petals resemb!e a pigeon at
eat.
0::r When you see a girl so weak that she can't
sweep her own seven by nineehamber,antitlances
all night with the power of a locomotive, make up
your mind that she is got up on bad principles.—
such damaged calk* has been the everiestiv ruin
of many men.
(4r A noble sentiment war that ol Genera(Jack
sortie, uttered in reply to 'he rtiquesi of Louis Phil
lippe, for in apology for hie bold assertion of net
claims against the Forint government. " Tbe bon
ot of my country shall never be stained by an 'per:
logy imm me Mr the statement of troth and pert*.
mance of ditty!)
1 he surest way to prevail on a 7oonrcenp•
le to marry Is to oppose them. Tell them you
" would mho see them in ffiru graves," and
tvrelre months attetwards their t'sh will pass ) n u .
twice a ds) in a willow earn
ARMleit=ll