Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, January 02, 1862, Image 1

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    . : J3LLAR PER *N NUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA :
TDnrsday Morning, January 2,1862.
Sdectfb
THE SEA FIGHT.
rhe fiin hath ridden into the sky,
And the night gone to her lair ;
Yet all is asleep.
On the mighty deep,
And all in the calm , gray air.
All seemeth as calm as an infant's dream,
AA far as the eye may keen ;
But the cannon blast
That just BOW passed,
Hath awakened ten thousand men.
AD order is blown from ship to ship.
All round and round it rings ;
And each .-ailor is stirred
By the warlike word,
And his jacket he downward flings.
He stripped his arm to hi.s shoulder strong ;
He girditb his loius about ;
And he answers the cry
Of the foeman nigh,
With a cheer and a noble shout.
What follows ? a pug. and a flash of light,
And Lhe boouiing of a gun ;
A nd a scream that shoots
To the heart's red roots,
aud we know that a fight's begun.
. a thousand shots at onee let loose ;
aiuh tiies noni its brazen den,
(Like the plague's swift breath,)
Ou it* deed of death,
And smites down a hie of men.
X;... g ,ti- in their thick-tougued thunder speak,
a : the frigate all rOck and ride,
And timbers crash,
Aud the mad \va\e* dash,
y all far and wide ;
And as the skies run piercing cries,
and ltiliug.oiie tale ol woe ;
i hat tbe struggle still,
Between good and ill,
Goes on in the earth below.
,**♦**
[i •, tuses iii gloom, oil his western road ;
i. c moon returns again ;
H .t.ofa! who looked bright,
In the morning light,
Then are mil} a thorn-arid men.
1 k"V • 1 l '' lc brooding clouds ou high!
h.ok up,at the awlul sun!
A d, behold—the'sea flood!
Is all red with blood ;
lj. d, i battle islost—ana won !
£e I e 111 i £ a li.
The Criminal Witness.
) A LAWYER'S STORY.
1 the sprinti of 1348 I was called to Jack
Alabama, to attend court having hen
gaged to delend a young man who hud been
used of rolibmg the mail I arrived early
the warning, and immediately hud a long
mlt-rence with my client. The stolen mail
ig had been i cover-d. us well as the let ers
m which i lie money hud been rifled. These
tnr> were given me for examination and I
domed tliern to the prosecuting attorriev
livi'. j got through my private preliminaries
ut no, >11, and as the case would not come
I until the next day, F went into the court in
- afternoon to see what was going on. The
itv.MSit that came up was that of theft, aud
:hf prisoner was a youug girl of not more than
*r >c i years of age, named Elizabeth Mad
1 tli She was very pretty, and bore that
: i innocent look, which we seldom find in a
wprit She had been weeping pro'usely, but
* she found so many eyes upon her she be
:.iiie too fr ghtened to weep more.
The complaint against her set forth that
1 had stolen one hundred dollars from a
fc Naseby, and as the case went on, I found
this Mrs. Naseby, a wealthy widow living
.oe town, was the girl's mistress. The poor
fi declared her innocence in the wildest
•'Hi, but circumstances were hard against
A hundred dollars in bank notes had
stolen from her mistress' room, aud she
•* die only oue that had access there
At this juncture, when the mistress was up
*• U>e witness staud, a young man came and
lit m<- by the arm He was a fine 'onk
' man, and the big tears stood in his eyes
They tell me you are a good lawyer,' be
,r i'-p>Tt-h
I IQI n lawyer, I answeied.
Tiwu do gave her You certainly can do
' • " r dt is innocent '
H die Ayiir sister V
N °, " lr , he udded, 1 but, bot—'
11-re he hesitated
H is she no counsel ?' I ask'-d
- ri" t at is good for anything—nobody
1 *ill do anything for her. O ! save her,
'■l ii give you all I've got. I can't give
. • iuijcli Lut l can raise something.'
r ' liK'ied a moment I cast my eyes to
1 • the prisoner, and she was at that nao
-1 1 coking at me She caught my eye, and
v utile of humble entreaty 1 read iu her
' ireolved me iu a moment. I arose and
'o trie girl and asked her if she wanted
dih nd her. She said yes. I then in
,, ®"J iLe court that I was rendy to enterin
and wa.> udimtted at once The
t „- '" !iriJlUr > of satisfaction 'hat ran quickly
w ""'irii tire room told me where the sympa
" ,af 'hf people were. I asked for amo
- cessation that I might speak to mv cli
t We, 't and sat down by her side, and
fit " r 10 hlHte candidly the whole case,
irlr' me R l ,e ' ia H lived with Mrs. Naseby
j two years, aud had never any trouble
Hi,, About two weeks ago, she said, her
e unssed it from her drawer,' the girl
taw • me ' a as ' Die about it. 1 said I
.\" '"Alt'fig about it. That, eveniug I know
► t , y I-'"her told Mrs Naseby that she saw
■ - money from the drawer—that she
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
watched me through the keyhole. Then she
went to my trunk and fonnd twenty five dol
lars of the missing mouey there. But, sir, I
never took it, aud somebody must have put it
there.'
I then asked her if she suspected any one.
' I don't know,' she said, ' who would have
done it but Nancy. She has never liked me,
because she thought I was better treated than
she. She is the cook, I am the chambermaid.'
She pointed Nancy Luther out to me. She
was a stout, bold-faced girl, somewhere be
tween five and twenty years old, with a low
torehead, small gray eyes, a pug nose and thick
lips. I caught her glance at once as it rented
00 the fair young prisoner, and the moment I
delected the look of hatred which I read there,
1 wus convinced that she was the rogue.
' Naucy Luther, did you say that girl's
name was ?' I asked, lor a new light had bro
ken in ou me.
' Ves, sir.'
' Tbeu rest easy ; I will try hard to save
you '
I left the court room and went to the proa
eculing attorney and asked him for the letters
i had handed him—the ones that had been
stolen troin the mail bag. Selecting one which
1 promised to res-.ore by night, 1 returned to
the court room ami the case went on.
Mrs Naseby resumed her testimony She
said she entrusted he room to the prisoner's
care, and that no one else had access there,
save herself Then she described about the
missing money, and closed by telliug how she
found it in the prisoner's trunk Sin- could
-wear it was the identical money s'~e luid lost,
in two tens and one one live dollar bank notes.
'.Mrs. Naseby,'jl said "when you first missed
the money, had you any reason to believe the
prisoner had taken it V
' No, sir.'
' Had you ever before detected her in any
dishonesty? 1
' No, sir.'
' Should you have thought of searching her
trunk, had not Nancy Luther udvised and in
formed you ?'
' No, sir.'
Mrs Naseby left the stand and Nancy Lu
ther took her place She came up with a
bold look, as if to say, ' trap me if you can.'
She nave her evidence as follows :
She said that n the night the money was
taken she saw the prisoner going up stairs,
and from the sly manner in which she went
up, she suspected all was not right. So she
followed her up. ' Elizabeth went to Mrs.
Naseby'a room and shut the door after ln-r I
stooped down and looked through the key
hole ; and saw her lake out the tnonev and put
it in her pocket Then she stooped down and
picsed up t In* lamp, and as 1 saw she was com
ing ou I hurried away '
Then she went on and told how she propos
ed to search the girl's trunk
I called Mrs Naseby to the stand
' Von said that no one, save the prisoner
and yourself had access to your room,'l said ;
' now could Nancy Luther have entered the
room if she had wished ?'
' Certuinly, sir; I ineaut that no one else
had any right there '
I saw that Mrs Nasebv, though naturally a
hard woman, was somewhat moved by poor
Elizabeth's misery
' Could your cook have known by any
means HI your knowledge, whero the money
wus ?'
' Yes, sir ; for she has often come to my
room while I was there, and I have given her
money to buy provisions of market men who
happen to come ah ug with their wagons.
' One more question. Have you known of
the prisoner's baviug auv money since this was
stolen V
' No, sir.*
I now called Nancy Luther back, and she
began to tremble a little, though her look was
as Oold and defiant as ever.
' Miss Luther,' said I, ' why did you not
inform your mistress at once of what you had
seen, without waiting for her to a.ik about the
lost money?'
' Because I could not at ouce make up my
mind to expose the poor girl,' she answered
promptly
' You say you looked through the keyhole
aud saw her take the mouey ?'
' Yes, sir.'
' Where did she place the lamp when she
did so ?'
" Ou the bureau.'
' Iu your testimony you said she stooped
down when she picked it up. What do you
mean by that ?'
The girl hesitated, and finally she said she
did not mean anyting, only that she picked up
the lamp.
' Very well,' said I, ' how long have yon
been with Mrs Naseby V
' Not quite a year, sir.'
' How much does she pay you a week ?
' A dollar and three quarters '
' Have you tuken up any of your pay since
you have beeu there ?
' Yes, sir.'
' How much ?'
' I don't kuow, sir.'
' Why don't you know V
' liow should 1 ? 1 have taken it at vari
ous turn s, .just as I wanted it, and kept 110 ac
count.'
• Now if you had wished to harm the pris
oner, could you have raised twenty five dot
iais to put in her trunk Y
' No, sir,' she replied, with virtuous indigna
tion.
' Then you have not laid up any money
since vou have been there ?'
' No, sir ; ouly what Mrs. Naseby may owe
me.'
' Then you did not have any twenty-five
d liars when you came there V
' No, sir : and what's more, the money found
iu the girl's trunk was the money Mrs Nase
by lost You might have known that ii you d
remembered what you asked her " This was
said very sarcastically, and was intended as a
crusher upon the idea that sheshouid have put
the money in the prisoner's trunk. However,
I was not entirely overcome.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH.
' Will you tell me if you belong to this
State ?'
' I do, sir.'
' In what town ?'
She hesitated, aud for a moment the bold
look forsook her, but she fiually answered, ' I
belong to Somers, Montgomery county.'
I next turned to Mrs Naseby,
' Do you ever take a receipt from your girls,
when you pay them.'
' Always.'
' Can you send and get one of them ftr me?'
She has told the truth about the payments,'
! said Mrs Naseby.
' O, I don't doubt it, but particular proof is
the thing for the court room. So, if you can,
I wish you would procure the receipt.'
She said she would willingly go if the court
said so. The court did 60 and she went Her
dwelling was not far off and she soon returned
aud handed me four receipts, which I took aud
examiued. They were signed in a strange stag
gering hand by the witness.
'Now, Nancy Luther,' I said, turning to the
witness, aud speakiug in a quick, startling tone
t and at the 6ame time lookiug bcr sternly iu the
eye, ' please tell the court uud jury, aud tell
me, where you got the seventy five dollars yon
sent in your letter to your sister in Somers V
The witness started as though a volcano had
opened at her feet She turned pale as death,
and every limb shook violently I waited un
til the people could have an opportunity to see
her emotion, and then I repeated the question.
| 'I never—sent —any,' she gasped.
' You did !' I thundfred, for I was excited
' now
' I d n't,' she faintly muttered, grasping the
railing by her side for support.
' May it plea-e your honor and gentlemen of
the jury,' 1 said a soon as I had looked her
out of countenance, ' I came here to defend a
man who wa o arrested for robbing the mailpind
I the in course of my preliminary examinations
I had access to the letters which had been torn
open and robbed of money. When I entered
upon this case, und heard the name of this
witness, I went out and got this letter which
I hold in my hand, for I remembered having
seen one bearing the signature of Nancy Lu
ther. This letter was taken from the mail
bag, and by looking at the post mark you will
observe that it was mailed the day after the
hundred dollars were taken from M ra. Nase
by s dniwer. I will read it, if you please.'
The Court nodded assent, and I read the fol
lowing, which was without date, save that made
by the postmaster ou the outside. I give it
verbatm :
SISTER Doners : I cend you hear scveuty
five dolers which i want yu to cepe fur me til!
i cum hum i cant kepe it cos im a feerd it will
git stole dont speck wun word to a iivin sole
abou' this i dont uuut cuybody to no ive got
eny inuny yu wont now will you im furst rate
hear only that good fur nothin snipe of liz
mad worth is hear yet but I hop to git over her
now yo no i wrote to yu bout yer giv my luv
to all inquirin freus this is from ycur sister til
death NANCV LUTHER.
' Now, your honor,' I said, as I gave him
the letter, and also the receipts, ' you will see
that the letter is directed to Dorcas Luther,
Somers, Montgomery county. Aud you will
observe that one hand wrote that letter and
signed the receipts, and the jury will also ob
si rve. And now I w ill only add it is plain to
see how the hundred dollars were disposed of.
Seventy fivedollars were seat off for safe keep
ing, while the remaining twenty five dollars
were placed in the prisoner's trunk for the pur
pose of covering the real criminal. Of tbe
\ tone of parts of the letter yon must judge. I
leave my cliant's case in your hands.'
The case was given to the jury immediately
following their examination of the letter. They
had heard from the witness' own mouth that
she had no money of her own, and without
leaving their seats they returned a verdict of
' Not Guilty.'
I will not describe the scene that followed,
but if Nancy Luther had not been immediate
ly arrested tor the theft, she wonld have been
injured by tbe excited people. The next morn
ing I received a note handsomely written, in
which I was told that the within was but a
slight token of the gratitnde due me for my
efforts in behalf of a poor defenceless maiden
It contained one hundred dollars, and was
signed " Several Citiaens." Shortly afterwards
t he youth who first begged me take up the case
called upon me with all the money he could ,
raise, but I showed him that I had already
been paid, and refused his bard earning. Be
fore 3 left town I was a gaest at his wedding
—my fair clieut being the happy bride.
MRS. PARTINGTON'S LAST —Ike goes for a
soldier. Mrs. Partington makes a farewell
address. " Ike, my son, stand up while I
dre.-s you—hold my bonnet and specks Fellow
soldier Ii is the abandoned doty of all to be
patriarchal in these times, and to baud dowu,
unrepaired, the glorious flag of a'l seceediug
generation " [Here Ike commenced couuting
off ihe new fashioned cheer, swinging the old
bonnet up and down as he went in—one, two,
three, tiger ] " March hesitatingly into the
contented field, and if a rebel demands your
quarters, tel! him you had but three, aud the
lust oue is speut ; then, if he wont quit and
leave, ' quit yourself like a man,' aud may you
have a glorious cauipaigu oi it.
son of tbe Emerald Isle,who in tell
ing of his adventures in this coantry to a friend
said :
" The first feathered bird I ever sew in
Ameriky was a porkentine. I treed him un
der a hay-stack, aud shot him with a bam
shovel ; and the first time I shot him I missed
him, and the second time 1 hit him where I
missed him before !"
man in Germantown says he has a
little machine iu hia house which has acquired
perpetual motion It is a simple contrivance,
requires no weights, lines or springs to make
it go, but go it does, and not only will not
stop, but to save his life he caouot stop it,—
It is hie wife's toDgue
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER."
The White Angel.
Some children stood in a group before the
door of the village houso one lovely summer
evening.
j "Tbey were all talking pleasantly together,
, from Kline, the son of the rich and proud
| Hoffmeißi:er, to the little bine-eyed Carl, the
only child of the poor baker.
It is very true that Kline wore a velvet
j jacket richly embroidered, while Carl's coat
was old, and bis wooden shoes were roogb
enough in all conscience. But what of that ?
If they were good friends what difference did
that make, I should like to know? Wait
till children become grown people, for pity's
sake, before you expect them to measure oth
er's worth by what they possess or wear.
" The new schoolmaster, Meinheer Fried
rich, comes to-morrow," said Otto. " 1 am
so glad. I am weary of old Master Hoff
man, with his crooked problems and hard les
; sons."
"So was I, truly," said Kliue, who although
a good merry boy, hated his books as he did
medicine.
" Ah ! thoa didst always like play better
than work, my Kline," said Max, " and so do
I, Meinheer Friendrich which will be wise if
he keeps thee and me apart during school
hoars. But, come—see which can get home
first—one, two, three 1" and away they all
scampered, laughing and shouting as only
school boys can.
The followiug day the boys were standing
around tbe school house, when the door opeu
ed, and Master Friedrich himself appeared,and
cried, in a cheery, hearty voice :
" Welcome, ray children 1"
" Welcome, master 1" cried they.
And uow they entered and took their seats,
aud were quite still while the good master read
a short chapter in the Book of Books ; and
then reverently prayed thut the dear Savior
would guide them in his teachings, and bless
them, and send His Holy Spirit to watch over
them all.
School began ; the thumb worn books were
brought out ; the lazy boys began to sigh and
frown, and wish impatiently for the recess,and
wonder why Latin dictionaries were ever in
vented ; when, as if by magic, they found them
selves listening to tha pleasant voice of Matter
Friedrich, and actually understanding their les
sons—so clear and simple were his explana
tions;and the time of recess came,to their great
astonishment, long before they had expected.
When the studies were over,the master drew
from hi 3 desk a box and whilst the children
gathered around he opened it, and drew out
charming little white and pink sea seells.pretty
pictures,and many other beautiful things, which
be gave to the children with loving words.
But the most lovely thiug of all was a little
porcelain statute of an angel. She stood—so
so pure—with her small white hands fold
ed over her breast.and her eyes uplifted,and the
children gazed, euehantingly.
" Oh, the dear angel, the beautiful angel,"
cried they all. " Wilt thou not give it to me
Master Friedrick ?"
But the gooi master smiled and said :
"The liuie angel is too lovely to be given to
any boy who is not good and true cf heart.—
We shall presently see who shall deserve her
He who brings me to-morrow the brightest
thing or earth shall have the angel."
At this tbe children looked at each other,,as
if wondering what the good master might meau.
But h said no more, and they went home
thoughtfully.
The next day, after the lessons (which had
now become so pleasant) were finished the
children clustered around the master, to show
him what they had brought.
Some of the smaller ones had picked up i
sparkling stones on the road, and as they held 1
them in the sun-light, were sure they must be
something bright and precious.
Sine had polished up a shilling till it shone
like a little crown; one brought a watch crystal
which his father had given him, aud which he
considered a wonder of transparent brightness;
and Kliue, the rich Hoffuieister's son, had
brought a paste buckle, made to imitate diam- j
onds, then which, in his opiuion, nothing could
be brighter.
All these things were placed on the master's
desk, side by side. The shilling shone away
famously, the pebbles and watch crystal did
their best, but Kline's buckle was tbe bravest
of all.
" Ah ! mine's the brigbest I" shouted Kline, i
clapping his hands.
" But where is little Carl ?" said Master
Fiiedricb ; "he ran out just now."
All eyes were turned to the door, when pre- ,
sently in rushed Carl breathless. In his hands
held up lovingly against his neck, was a poor
little snow white dove Some crimson drops
upon the downy breast showed that it was
wounded.
" 0, master !" cried Carl, " I was looking for
something bright, when I came upon this poor
little white dove Some crnel boys were tor
menting it, and I caught it quickly, and ran
here Oh, I fear it will die."
Even as he spoke the dove's soft eyes grew
filmy, it nestled closer in Carl's neck,then gave
a faint cry drooping its little head, and died.
Carl sauk on his kuees beside the master's
desk, and from his eyes there fell upon the
white dove's poor broken wings two tears large
aDd bright.
The master took the dead dove from his
hands, and laid it tenderly down on the desk
with the bright things ; then ra : sing Carl, he
softly said " My children, there is no brighter
thing on earth thsn a tender pitying heart."
The boys were silent far a ruomeut, for tbey
felt that the master decided that Carl bad
fairly won the angel; then Kline cried out :
" My master, thou didst not fairly explain to
ns. I pray thee give ns another trial."
" Yes, dear master!" said Max, give us one
more trial."
" What safest thon, Carl ?" said Master
Fredrich.
" Yes, dear master," answered the generous
boy,
The good master smiled thoughtfully, and
his eyes rested for a moment loviuglv upon
Carl, then glancing around he said :
" He who brings me the loveliest thing on
earth to morrow shall have the angel."
The children clupped their hands and de
parted satisfied.
1 After school the next day Kline was the
first to ran to Master Fredrich and lay upon
his desk what he considered the loveliest thing
I in the whole world, his new soldier cap, with
the long scarlet feather, and bright golden
tassel.
Max came next, and placed beside the cap
' a small silver watch, his last birthday gift with
a bright steel watch chain attached. Otto
brought a great pictnre book, just sent to him
by his good-mother. Rudolph, a tiDj marble
vase, richly sculptured ; and so OD, until a
more motley collection than before lay upon
Mister Friedrich's desk
Then poor little Carl stepped modestly up,
and placed in the master's hand a pure lilly.
The rich perfume filled iho room, aud bend
ing over tbe flower, inhaling the delicious frag
rance, the master softly said—" My cbildreu,
the blessed Word of God says, " Behold the
lilies of tbe valley ; they toil not, neither do
they spin, yet Solomon, in all his glory, wa3
not arrayed like oue of these." Carl has right
ly chosen."
But murmurs arose ; the children were not
satisfied ; and again they asked for another
trial.
And as beforo, good Master Friedrich in
quired:
" What sayest thou, Carl?'' and he ausv/er
ed as before, with generous haste. "Yes, dear
master."
" Now this is the last time," said the master;
" and he who brings me the btst t/nagon eartA
shall have the angel."
"The very best thing on earth is plum cake,"
cried Kline on the third day, as he walked up
to the desk, bearing a largo cake richly frost
ed, with a wreath of sugar roses around the
edge—this he placed triumphantly before the
master, sute of the prize.
"Nay, thou art wrong this time, Kline,"
said Max. " I asked my father what was the
very best thing on earth, and he gave me this
golden guilder—the prise is mine."
" Ah I but my father said that the very best
thing was a good glass of Rhenish wine," cried
Otto, "and I have brought a bottle of it thirty
years old—tbe prize is surely mine."
So t hey went on till all had placed their offer
ings before the master.
" And thou, Carl," said he, " what hast
thou brought which thou thickest the best
thing on earth ?"
A crimson flush rose to the little boy's fore
head, aud coming softly forward he too* from
his brtast a small worn Testament, pressed it
to his lips, and tbeu reverently laid it down
with the rest, as he said, iu a low, sweet voice
—" My mother, dear master says that God's
precious Testament, is lar beyoud all earthly
possessions."
" Tis thine, my Carl," cried the master,
snatching the boy to his breast. " The white
angel is thine ! for there is nothing iu the wide
world half so precious as the blessed words of
Christ and he placed tbe angel in the hands
of the irembliug boy.
Kline kuit bis brow and gazed with anger
und disappointment at little Carl, and the rest,
seeing hiu do this, felt themselves aggrieved ;
i but suddenly the cloud cleared from Kline's
fuce, and rushing forward he caoglit Carl in
his arras, crying, " Forgive me, dear Carl, now
I am right glad thou bust won the prize."
Ah ! the blessed effect of a bright example !
Quickly joining hands, the children danced joy
fully around little Carl, who stood iu their
midst, the white angel pressed to his heart—
bis hair falling in curls on his shoulders and
his eyes full of tears,
i The good Master Friedrich also went with
joy, and prayed from the depth of his pure and
, simple heart that the Savior would b'ess this
lessou to the children's everlasting good. He
had tarued away, that none might perceive his
tears
But One iQ Heaven 6aw them, Master Fried
rich.
A Capacious Swallow.
We stated in our last that a whale got en
tangled iu the cable of an emigrant vessel at
Pambeu. Tbe published letter from J. T.
Reidy shows that the animal swallowed the
anchor, and got hooked by its flukes. We
mentioned that the vassel had been dragged
thirty miles in five hours, or at the rate of
six miles an hour. Mr Reidy computes the
total distance at fifty miles, and the rate of
reaching the railroad speed of fifteen miles an
hour ! The case is one of the most extraor
dinary on record A ship takes to angling,
using her anchor tor a book—catches aw hale
and finds that the case very much resembles
the celebrated one of ' catchiug a tartar.' The
whale runs away with the ship and a couple
of hundred human beings ; playing all sorts of
fantastic tricks ; finally gets sick and casts np
the anchor. Here is Mr. lleidy's accouut of
this strauge encounter between the ship aud
the whale. We wish we could get the whale's
accouut of his proceedings aud seusntious. If
he survives this will be a lesson to him to be
more choice of his feeding for the future. Irou
is certainly useful as a tonic, but our cetacious
friend mast have misapprehended his doctor's
prescription when he took to swallowing it in
the mass. Sydney Smith hoped his friend
Selwvn would disagree with the New Zealun
ders if they swallowed him. We fear the re
maining fluke will disagree with our marine
friend—if he will allow us to call him so.
I have tbe ho ior to inform you 1 left Devi
pitbauj on the 20th inst., with the two schoon
ers having ou board 240 coolies We arrived
here (Taltmanaar) ou Saturday, the 24tb iu
staut, at 4 p. m. Having the wind diree'ly
against us on coming opposite to Ramisserain
bagoda, we aachored there at 6 o'clock, p. m.,
intending to start during the night for Tab m
anaar, wheu the wind would change. About
8 o'clock, p. m , 1 was silting ou the small
poop, when suddenly the bow of tbe vessel
was pulled on a level with the sea ; then came
a slight shock and a large shower of spray ali
over the vessel, after which we shot off at a
railway speed. I was very much alarmed by
VOL. XXII. 3STO. 81.
*~T T I- • KKJQ'M " IV
the shock and spray, thinking we might have
drifted on some of the coral reefs. In about
a mionte a whale, some forty or fifty feet long,
made bis appearance forward at cable's length
from the vessel ; then, for the first time, I
knew how matters were. Very extraordinary,
indeed, the whale had swallowed oar anchor,
and was firmly hooked. At the time the
whale hooked himself we were in six fathoms j
the evening was very calm, and the moos ap
peared above the horizon. All the coolies
were very much alarmed, and indeed so were
we all. I was going twice to cat away the
anchor and cable, but having only another ca
ble on board, I did uot like to do so, as, if I
had, I should stop the vessel, as I would not
risk her in this weather depending on one ca-
I ble. I think the way the whale got entangled
most Save been when he was feeding, ranrflng
with moatb fully extended, when, coming with
his under iaw against the fluke of the anchor,
! he seized it up, and having turned it in his
mouth, was unable to extricate himself. Ido
not otherwise see how it could have occurred.
; The whale got hooked about 8 o'clock, p. m.
He then went off at full speed ahead, then
I stopped, and whirled us about rapidly; then
I went on forward again fully at the rate of fif
teen miles an boor ; again whirling us about,
and puding us right and left, and showing him
self, and spouting every naiaute ; aud this con
; tiuued until one o'clock, a m. From his site
! I do not think he could have been a gram
pus, as I feel certaiu he must have been forty
or fifty feet in length. He took us N. by N.
' E. over iifty miles.
At ono o'clock on Saturday morning the
vessel stopped running and the whale lifted
up his head out of the water about ten feet,
and went off, leaving the anchor (Lifting to
tlio vessel. lie was hooked five hours and
was nearly dead when the anchor got loose.—
We then turned the vessel set sails, aniLstood
in for Paumben light, which we made by day
light., aud eoutinued UDder sail until we ar
rived at Talemanaar. — Ceylon Observer,
DOX'T GET DISCOURAGED.— Don't get dis
couraged ! Whoever gained anything by draw
ing down the corners of his month when a cloud
oame over the son, or letting his heart drop
like a lead-weight into his shoes when misfor
tune came upon him ? Why, man, if the world
knocks you down end jostles past you ID its
great race, don't sit whining under people's
feet, but get up, rub your elbows, and begin
again. There are some people who even to
look at is worse than a dose of chamomile tea.
What if you do happen to be a little puzzled
on the dollar and cent question ? Others be
sides you have stood in exactly the same spot,
and struggled bravely out of it, aud you are
neither halt, lame nor blind, that you cannot
do likewise I The weather may be dark and
rainy very well ; laugh between the drops
and think cheerily of the blue sky andsnnshiue
that will surely come to morrow ! Business
may be dull; make the best of what you have,
and look forward to something more hopeful.
If you catch a full, don't lament over your
bruise, but be thankful that no bones are brok
en. If you can't afford roast beef and plum
podding, eat your codfish joyfully and bless
your stars for the indigestion and dyspepsia you
thereby escape ! But the moment you begin
to look over your troubles and count up the
calamities you may as well throw yourself over
the wharfs aud be done with it. The luckiest
fellow that ever lived, might have woes en
ough, if he set himself seriously to work look
ing them up. They are like iuvisible specks
of dust ; yon don't see 'em till you put on your
spectacles to discover what is a great deal
better let alone.
Don't get discouraged, little wife ! Life is
Dot long enough to spend in inflaming your
eyes and reddening your nose because the pud
ding won't bake, and your husband says the
new shirts you worked over so long " set like
bad." Make another pudding—begin tbe
shirts anew ! Don't feel "down in the month"
because the dust will settle, and clothes will
wear out, and crockery will get broken. Being
a woman don't procure yoo an exemption from
trouble and care ; you have got to fight tbe
battle of life as well as your husband, and it
will never do to give up without a bold strug
gle Take things as they come, good aud bad
together, and when you feel iuclixed to cry,
just change your mind and laugh ; never turn
a blessing around to see if it has got a dark
side to it, and always take it for granted that
things are blessings until they prove to be
something else. Never allow yourself to get
discouraged, and you'll find the world a pretty
comfortable sort of place alter all.
LIFF. —At best is not very long. A few
more smiles, a few more tears, some pleasures,
much pain, sunshiue and song, clouds and dark
ness, hasty ereetiugs, and abrupt farewells—
then our little play will close, and injured ant)
injurer will pass away. Is it worth while to
hate each other ?
QUAKER'S Anvics.—Never marry n woman
worth more than thou art. When I married
my wife, I was worth just fifty shillings, and
sb" worth sixty-five ; and whenever any differ
ence has occurred between us since, she has
always thrown up the odd shillings.
tea?* Bashfnlness is more frequently connect
ed with good sense than we find assurance ;
and impudence on the other baud, is often the
effect of downright stupidity.
Btjf* The Chicago Trifaivf has Information
from an unquestioned s<.o:ee, that five thou
sand acres in Illinois will be planted with cot
ton the coming year.
St&° A little boy being asked in Sunday
school, " what's the chief end of m*D ?" an
swered, " The end what's got the bead on.*
I®* The girls say that the times are 60 hard
that the young men cauuot pay their address
es.
6ST In order to deserve a true friend, you
must first learn to be os*