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For the Bradford Reporter.
THE STRANGER'S SMILE.
BY PACE PKMBERTON, JR.
S me lights there are upon my memory streaming
That mark life's journey with a sunnier mile,
u. 1 wake me from a night of bitter dreaming—
The very brightest is the stranger's smile.
I v, ..tillered far from my paternal home,
\ 1 vi lice familiar in that foreign land
1 1 ■,< itly. an undying friendship telling—
H w welcome then the stranger's cordial hand.
I; a.aiilie scenes could not delight my vision,
Tin trilling birds 110 joy in me awoke,
riny only mocked me with a gay derision,
T'ntil the stranger friendly words had spoke.
Tin jasmine sweeter was. the sky was bluer,
1 felt at home again with fancy free ;
011-ver was a heart more pure or truer
Than seemed the stranger's kindly heart to me.
slight ills in life are often made the rougher
l!y an unthinking world's formality,
V.. ii sweet relief may come to those who suffer,
In one good word of hospitality.
!;, 1 arefiil all to entertain the stranger,
What time ye thread earth's wilderness defile ;
It' ' ■ s an outcast, think of his great danger—
IT avcii luay to him be in a stranger's smile!
TIWAXDA, July 11, IHC>3.
THE PALE FLOWER.
My old Iriend Joe Harris, who has long
since been dead, was, when a wild 3'oung
man, induced to try' his fortune in the new j
w rid. lie left England with the intention i
el settling in America, but, to the surprise
: I.is friends, lie returned borne in middle
ge, an altered man, settling down in a,
iittle village, where be lived a bachelor's
hie, tiil the end ot bis day's. That there t
was a romance of some kind connected with
tin- old man's sojourn in America, was well
known, but the particulars were never di- !
vulged, till a few years before his death, '
when lie related the little episode to me !
which caused ii is return to England. The!
'.towing is, as nearly 7 as possible, in his I
ivn words :
U hen first 1 saw the upper .Missouri, no
v te man had never crossed the Black
11:11s. or woke with his litle the echoes of;
Kocky Mountains. The vast pararies, j
waich lie at the hase of the Cordilleras, j
ehiwg for hundreds of leagues towards j
tb Mississippi, had never heard the voice j
■t it pale face, or been pressed by the foot j
! civilization. All was wild, solitary, and j
- iijiinc. Even the trader had not penetra- J
ted tliis wilderness ; and the beaver built, j
tte i ulfalo herded, the eagle soared, and
•e red man hunted, safe from Chrisatin
rapine and wrong.
St. Louis was a frontier town, and still
:a the possession of the French, and it was t
quit.* a common thing for the Sioux to come j
down there to trade. A young brave of i
that nation was there when I arrived ; I i
■'ot him at the Governor's and we soon got
quite intimate. He was a noble fellow, as j
tail and graceful as an Apollo, and with a
v '.nine of .sinew that might have been the'
tin del for an Hercules. We went so far as '
' change names, and so he always called j
me " the War Eagle." At last he asked me !
e> visit his country, and hunt the buffalo i
m ath the Black Hills. Voting and ven-'
tures<>me, it was the very thing I wanted, i
a wus . me thing to penetrate where no !
w '|ite man had ever boon. So, bidding'
•"lieu 1 civilization, I shouldered my ritie,
ai-'i plunged into the pathless wilderness !
ami. r tiie guidance of my young Sioux !
brave.
Mi- crossed prairies, upon which one
■ay travel lor months without seeing a
ato c, or speaking to a human being,
mi Mm rises and sets on a boundless ex
ji ii.se.;! green. At times you will tiud the
pontic as level as the ocean in a calm;and
then for several weeks you will travel a- j
- robing uplands like the same ocean
1 ; and by-and-by you will come '
■ -a at steep hills, like the cross chop
** as ,a the mouth of a tidal river. Now
• a hundred thousand buffaloes 1
A go tramping by, shaking the solid
: >u- an earthquake ; and now the !
u > outline of Indian horsemen will be
MAECPUIG gracefully along the far off
Amid such scenes we journeyed j
'""ks A hen hunger overtook us we
'ring down a buffalo, light a fire,and '
'■ ' clioieest morsel, and liavea feast '
kings ; and at nightfall, spread- I
oiitialo robes beneath us, we lay j
" the velvet turf, with the balmy!
• n, ,!ng us to sleep, and millions of j
-'uttering in the calm blue sky above. :
1 wild but fascinating life,ever full !
variety. Now we would be
- the wigwam of some friendly
' uow passing some tribe of hos- J
1 ■"'■•uis. At sueh times what a choice
, ,u y Sioux brave ! How he i
; i -daver to the old chiefs, and talk of 1
medicine man as he called rue.—
, he tli iught this wouldn't do how
ia V " * V . u " u 'd creep around their vil
!l the night! Once or twice we had
. I:i ; way through ; and we only es
• Ino .11 ml Pawnees, encamped on
by_gl ding with the current past
' ark canoe during a night storm. ;
, w , u ' ( lield the Sioux village, far
Lie horizon ; and a hundred war
-tir "s at once, galloped on
iti■ !■" wav ' n g their lances, and j
'*>., l!? V 1,1 Wt -'^ c oiue us. They had ,
•in 1.1 ' what I was—for few of;
iihi j 1 "'! lorc Becu white man—than '
1 me from 1113* horse,
,ne 111 triumph to their village. t
13. O. GOODRICH, I'tiblislier.
VOLUME XXVI.
Here I lived for months. Here, too, I
met the sister of 1113' Sioux friend, a being
all grace and beauty, and with a complex
ion so fair that she was calh d " The Pale
Flower." Few in any clime are so beauti
ful as was Mencatecab. She had an eye
like a gazelle, dark and languishing ; hair
soft and silky like the tresses of a moun
tain nymph and a form as light, elastic,and
sylph-like as ever trod greensward, or haun
ted the classic woodlands of old Greece.—
And then, how artless she was ! 'Tis 110
use to deny it; woman, endearing woman,
is sweet the wide world over ; and with
what chattering in bad Sioux, and telling
moonlight tales of 1113' own land, I began to
look upon her almost as a sister ; and the
dear creature, I reall3 r believe, thought of
me with even tenderer emotions. But if
she did, her tongue never breathed it. I
fell sick once, and she was my nurse. I
really think if it hadn't been for her kind
ness I should have died. She bathed 1113'
fevered head, sang me songs to lull me to
repose, and almost wept for j'o3' when I re
covered.
Well, at this time the Sioux were at war
with the Pawnees, and it was not till six
months after 1113 7 arrival that a great smoke
was held between the hostile chiefs, and
the hatchet buried in the big lodge of the
village. As soon as this was settled, 1113'
Sioux friend found leisure to escort me to
the Rocky Mountains, where we went for
a great hunt.
In a fortnight we reached our destination
-—and I stood upon one of their loDy peaks
amid the region of eternal snows. What
a magnificent scene ! Below—peak, cliff,
and gentle slope fell down into the plain 011
each side ; while lar a\vu3 7 to the west,
over forest and river, the setting sun sunk
into the vast Pacific. The eagle sailed un
harmed on these solitary recesses, and the
sun shone down on the clouds thousands of
feet below. Now the hoarse roar of a cat
aract broke majestically on U13 7 ear, and
now the imprisoned wind, like stifled thun
der, was heard far down some dark ravine.
I lifted up ni3 7 voice, waking the echoes
that had slumbered since creation. A
crowd of sublime emotions thronged in my
bosom. Never had civilized foot stood
where I stood. A continent was beneath
me ; its past history was a dream ; and the
names of the races that peopled it were un
known. The graves of nations were under
my feet.
I well remember when, on our return, we
first caught sight of the Sioux wigwams
dwindled on the horizon to a speck, and the
eagerness with which we pressed on across
the prairie to reach our homes before night
fall. Suddenly we saw a crowd issuing
from the village, and Contained scarcety a
single warrior. Instead of the wild tu
multuous joy which ittended our first ar
rival, when a hundred braves swept huz
zaing around us on their fleet horses, we
were met with solemn silence, and all the
stoicism of the Indian character. The
cause was soon explained. A party of our
Sioux friends, when returning from a visit
to a neighboring village, had been waylaid
by the Pawnees, who. after murdering the
braves, had carried off the women as cap
tives. M - sweet prairie flower was one of
the prisoners.
" Does my white brother hear ?" said her
brother, turning tome with unnatural calm
ness, but a fire burning in his dark e3 7 e that
forebode a fearful vengeance—"does 1113'
white brother hear ?"
I told him that I would go with him to
the world's end to rescue Meneateeah; and
then a smile of approval lighted up the
countenance of the 3'oung chief, as he re
plied in his deep, guttural tones. " Good
—very good. The War Eagle and his
brother will be after the dogs of Pawnees
before sunset."
The proposition was hailed with a shout;
we made our preparations for the war par
ty ; and, before the moon was an hour high,
we were already far upon the track of the
tlying Pawnees.
All night we continued the pursuit, and
only towards the morning did we pause for
a little rest. In an hour or two we resumed
our march, and night had long settled on
the prairie before we halted to bivouac till
morning. We had moved forward for some
hours with extreme caution, for we suspec
ted the enemy to be in our near neighbor
hood ; and accordingly, when we stopped,
runners were sent out to reconnoitre the
Pawnee camp, and scouts stationed to pre
vent all possibility of surprise.
At my urgent request 1 had been per
mitted by the young chief to accompany
him to one of these outposts, where he pro
posed to spend the night. It was a still
hazy evening. A few stars flicked through
the mist; the moon waded heavily amid
the clouds above ; and occasionally the
wind moaned across the the silent prairie,
with a low, mournful sound. In an hour,
however, the clouds totally obscured the
light, and a thick palpable darkness set
tled down around us. Occasionally a low
sound, like the stifled neigh of a horse,
would be heard amid the stillness ; and
then the wailing tones of the night-wind
would come to the ear with a strange mys
terious sound. A couple of hours had
passed, when I fancied 1 heard a cry, like
that of a human voice, coming out of the
darkness a short distance ahead. I put my
ear to the ground, and heard several voices
conversing, What they said, however,was.
in a language 1 knew not. I looked hur
riedly around to apprise my companion of
our danger ; but I found myself-—I could
scarcely credit it—alone. For one minute
I fancied I saw a dark form stealing along
in the uncertain gloom ; but even while I
looked, the shadowy appearance vanished.
Left to my own resources, 1 did not quail,
llurridly throwing my rifle across my arm,
with one foot extended, and every sense
alive witfi excitement, I waited the ap
proach of inv foes, llad the chance given
me 1 should have sold my life dearly ; but
all at once, as a dark form rose suddenly
before me, I felt myself tripped up, and fell
prostrate on the prairie. In another in
stant four swarthy figures sprang up at
my feet, and 1 found myself a prisoner. My
hands were instantly bound, and I was hur
ried oil toward the Pawnee camp. The In
dians had approached by crawling noise
lessly on their hands and feet; and while 1
was looking for them in the gloom, they
had me already in their power.
Never shall I forget the emotions of that
night. I well knew the manner in which
prisoners were treated, and I looked for
ward to a death of torture. Morning at
length dawned ; but it brought me no com
TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., JULY 20, 1865.
fort. The savages who held me in their
custody seemed to take a fiendish delight
in anticipating the tortures they intended
for me. I tried in vain to open a conversa
tion with them ; but they pretended not to
understand me, maintaining a dogged si
lence. At last we reached their village.
Boys, women, and children thronged around,
heaping _ opprobrious epithets upon me,
jostling, pelting, spotting upon me, and
shouting in derision at 1113' bonds. I knew
it was useless to talk of mercy—l'd sooner
die than show the white feather —and so I
took it all cavalierty as if I'd been used to
such things from a bo3 T . 1 was carried
triumphantly to a lodge in the centre of the
village, and left to the gaze of the idle and
curious while the old men deliberated about
my fate.
What were my emotions during that ter
rible day ! It was one thing to appear
stoical, but riot to feel. I shuddered to
think of Ul3* probable doom ; and I saw no
hope of averting it. M3 7 Sioux friends, 1
doubted not, would hasten to 1113' rescue ;
but I had seen enough of the strength of
the village, in my hast3 f passage through
it, to feel certain that its warriors trebled
the force of ni3 7 friends. There was 110
gleam of hope. But I resolved to die as
became me.
At night the lodge was deserted, through
a couple of warriors kept watch beside the
door. After .a day of agony I was glad to
find relief even in a last troubled sleep; for
1 felt that I should never enjoy another.
1 was buried in deep repose, when I fan
cied I heard my name breathed beside me,
and awaking at the sound, I started half
up and gazed around me.
lt was deep in the night; and ever3 7 thing*
in the village was silent. The tire had
gone out in tiie lodge, and its whole inte
rior was wrapped in darkness. Th i door
was open, and through it a solitary star
glimmered in the heavens ; while the dark
form of one of my jailors sat motionless
and statue-like in the dim obscurity. 1 was
about to return to 013- rude pillow, satisfied
that the sound I had listened to was caused
Gy ni3 r fancy, when I heard 1113 7 name re
peated distinctly in a whisper at my elbow,
and turning suddenly around 1 beheld to
my surprise, the form of Meneateeah. As
tonishment for a moment deprived me of
speech, and before 1 could recover 1113' ut
terance, my companion placed her finger on
her lip, silently motion'ng towards the im
movable sentinel at my door ; at the same
instant, before 1 could comprehend her
meaning, she severed the bonds from 1113'
hands and ankles. I started to my feet
with a jo - words cannot explain ; but a
motion from my deliverer again warned me
to be silent. tshe beckoned me to follow
her, and hastily lifting one corner of the
tent, ushered me into the fresh air. Paus
ing but a moment to listen if our escape
had been detected, she again imposed si
lence upon me by a gesture, and led the
way swift ly and silently out of the camp.
1 was too well acquainted with Indian
life not to know that we momentarily ran
the greatest risk of discovery, and that cer
tain death awaited us if surprised in at
tempting an escape. Acute in ear, prompt
in action, relentless in revenge, it was an
act amounting to madness to attempt lly,
ing from our savage foes. As we stole
noiseless through the village, 1 scarcely
dared to breathe, lest we should arouse the
sleeping inmates within. Once, they ba3 7
of a distant dog startled us, and the wind
sighing over the prairie was magnified into
the voices of pursuers. Meneateeah still
glided before me, occasionally pausing to
listen, and then stealing softly among the
wigwams towards the outskirts of the vil
lage. Not a word as yet had passed be
tween us ; and I could not account for her
opportune aid. How had she obtained her
liberty? By what means was my prison
house gained unobserved 1 Even amid all
our danger I could scarcely refrain from in
quiring ; but m3 7 sweet guide always si
lenced me by the same hurried gesture. We
had just reached the edge of the village,
when suddenly a dark figure emerged into
the light. It was a Pawnee scout return
ing from the prairie. We had scarcety
time to glide behind the shadow of a lodge
when he came so close that 1 could have
touched him. 1 felt my companion tremble
violently. For a moment I held 1113' breath
in agony, but the scout passed us, and was
lost to sight behind the clustering lodges.
With a thrill of joy we found ourselves in
another instant on the open prairie. A mo
mentary ejaculation of gratitude to Heaven
burst from my bosotu, and then, turning to
103' guide, I inquired in what manner she
had been enabled to lull suspicion and to
come to U13 7 aid.
Until this tooment Meneatefeuh had not
uttered a word, nor had she scarcely lifted
her eyes from the ground. When she did
so now, it was with a timid, uncertain
glance, half in doubt in what manner I
might regard her conduct. The excitement
which had hitherto sustained her had passed
away, and her native modesty began to as
sert its supremacy. Iler words, though
soft as music, were trembling and low.
" The Pale Flower," she said, " has done
a great thing in the eyes of the white wor
rior—has she not? The maiden of his own
land come not to the lodge of their enemy
to set free their warriors, and Meneateeah
should not have done so, even though she
loved the War Eagle like a brother."
"No, no," said I, taking her hand ; "the
War Eagle owes his life to Meneateeah.—<
The Pale Flower is dear to the white war
rior—what can he do to repay her J"
"It is good, then—Meneateeah has not
done wrong ?" said the Indian girl, looking
up iuto my face, with her dark eyes swim
ming with the tears of joy she could not
repress.
"No, my sweet preserver," said I ; for
no one could have withstood that look. 1
pressed her to my bosom ; 1 kissed away
her tears ; while she in all her artless hap
piness, leaned upon my shoulder. "But
how did you escape yourself ?" said I, after
a few moments silence; "and when did
you learn I was a prisoner. Will the Pale
Flower tell her brother ?"
She looked up into my lace with a glance
of unreserved confidence, and narrated her
capture, and her succeeding events up to
her appearance in my lodge.
The real object of the attack, she said —
and her sunny cheek and bosom crimsoned
as the spoke- was to secure her as.;the
bride of a celebrated young Pawnee chief.
He had seen her at the village, when at
tending the council prior to our departure
for the mountains, and inflamed by a pas-
i . D ... '
REGAKDI.BSS OF DENUNCIATION FKOM ANY QUARTER.
I sion for her had disregarded the admoni
i tions of the old men, and wantonly way
| laid the peaceable company with which she
; was traveling. As soon as they reached
! the Pawnee village she was adopted into
i the family of her conqueror, and though
I loaded with ornaments, and treated like a
I princess, had been narrowly watched to
I prevent her escape. To every entreaty to
! wed him, however, she turned a deaf ear.
,At last intelligence arrived that a medicine
man of her tribe, a pale face warrior, had
been brought in prisoner, and was the next
morning to be burned at the stake in the
center of the village. In an instant she de
termined to rescue me. Assuming a sud
den cheerfulness, she no longer turned a
deal ear to the gallantry of her captor, but
promised to be his at the moon, the Great
Spirit having warned her in u dream to
name that time.
Now the Pawnees are superstitious, and
even the ardor of a lover is nothing to a
dream. So the young brave made a virtue
of necessity, and was glad to wait a fort
night to secure a willing bride. In the ex
travagance of his joy, he did what Menea
teeah had expected ; he gave orders that
she should no longer be treated as a cap
tive. She contrived, during the da 3', to
learn where I was confined. Night came.
She affected to sleep, but in reality was
waiting for the village to be buried in re
pose. Long after midnight she rose steal
thil3 7 from her couch, escaped unnoticed from
the lodge, and succeeded in setting me
free.
" Whist, whist," said I, as she ceased her
narrative, and I pointed to the uow distant
village, which we had left already miles
behind, " is not that the barking of dogs ?"
She started, like a frightened fawn, and
as the sounds broke distinctly on the still
air, said, in a voice of alarm, " The Paw
nee braves are up—they find that the War
Eagle is flown See, they seek him J" and
as she spoke, the flashing of lights, among
the lodges, along the horizon, told that the
enemy were awake to their loss.
What was to be done ? We had scarcely
an hour's start, were without horses, and
uncertain whither to go in order to reach
our friends We might in fact be further
from them now than when we left the vil-
lage ; for the night was so dark that we
c mid not see a dozen yards before us; and,
from the absence of both moon and stars, I
knew not whether morning was near or dis
tant. Our enemies, 011 the other hand,
would soon be on our trail, and were more
over mounted 011 the fleetest horses. Dis
cover 3' I knew would be death. But I
cheered the noble girl beside me, and we
hurried hastily along. Nimbly as a moun
tain deer, nr>3* companion advanced with a
rapidity that set even mo at defiance. But
we soon found that nothing could save us.
Already the loud shouts of our pursuers,as
they followed up our trail, grew nearer and
nearer. In spite of eveiy exertion, hy the
end of half an hour, it became evident that
they would soon overtake us. 1 had no
arms, and what defence could I make ?
But, thank God, the increasing darkness
had been the sign of daybreak, and the
gray morning slowly appearing, disclosed
to my joy a party of men advancing toward
u*, whom, even in the uncertain light, 1
knew to be Sioux warriors. Their num
bers, too, provided that our own brave par
t3 7 had met with that which had set out be
fore. They were still far down on the hor
izon, however, and our pursuers were rap
idly pressing on our rear.
"There is hope," said the Indian girl, in
a tone of joy, but joy 011 my account more
than on hers; "the scalp of the War Ea
gle shall not dry in the Fawnee lodge, lie
will return to his people. See, the braves
of 1113- tribe are nigh !"
" You are weary, Meneateeah," said I,
perceiving she fell behind as she spoke ;
" you cannot go on aii3 7 longer. I will re
main with 3*ou, and meet our fate. Or,
stay, I can bear you in my arms."
" No, no," said she, eagerly, " the Pale
Flower is not weary. But if the Pawnee's
arrow is sharp, had it not better pierce the
weak girl than the great brave ?"
" What ?" said I stopping suddenly, but
half penetrating her meaning.
" U11I3" that the Pale Flower can die for
the white warrior," was her simple answer,
as she drew her robe around her, and looked
into my face ; "hut hark! the Pawnee dogs
sees us ! —fly—lly !"
Had you been tliere, said ray old friend,
on that treeless prairie, and seen a horde
of enraged savages galloping in your rear,
waving their arms frantically 011 high, and
shouting with demoniac exultation, over
the anticipated slaughter of their victims,
you would have some idea of what danger
really is. But the noble devotion of the
sweet girl's words drove all thisjjfor a mo
ment from . mwanind ; and it was not till
she urged mo dguin to hasten forward that
1 forgot my admiration for her in the sense
of mutual danger.
1 east a hurried look behind, and saw
that before live minutes, unless some mira
cle happened, the Pawnee lances would be
driven through 11s. Our only hope was in
tin: succor of the Sioux, who were now sweep
ing down on their lieCy horses with the
speed ola whirlwind. Two warriors from
their body, as well as one swarthy savage
from our pursers, were respectively far
in advance of their several parties ; '
and if we could escape the latter,
we should gain the protection
of our friends before the rest of his
force could come up. Aware of this, the
Pawnee was urging his steed forward with
incredible velocity. All at once I saw him
drop his spear, and I shouted encouraging
ly to my companion, thinking that we were
at length safe. But the wily savage, fear
ful that one might escape if he trusted to
his lance, had only resigned it for a more
ell'yctive weapon, i lap idly assuming his
bow, lie fitted an arrow to the spring, and
riding at full speed to within a dozen yards,
he drew the weapon along .his right thigh,
and let tly the missile witli a short quick
cry, and a force that would have driven it
through the bosses of a Grecian buckler.
Truly and unerringly sped the shaft, aimed
directly at my heart, and in au instant 1
should have fallen its prey, had not Meu
e a tee alt, perceiving the mark, sprung with
a rapid gesture before me, and received it
in her bosom. But she was avenged, for
at that instant the arrow of the foremost
Sioux quivered to the iiaather in the Paw
nee's breast. The blood gushed in torrents
across my preserver's breast —withdrew my
attention, however, from the combatants,
so that 1 neither saw or heard anything of
the ensuing conflict. I caught her hastily
in my arms, forgetting everything in that
moment's agony. Poor, sweet, devoted
being!—she had first perilled, and now
sacrificed her life for mine. I would have
given worlds to have saved her.
"Meneateeah, ni3 7 preserver! Oh, she is
indeed gone!" 1 exclaimed, wiping away a
few drops of the blood from her face.
Her eyes had been closed, but as 1 spoke
she opened them faintly, pressed my hand,
murmuring in tones scarcely audible, "Will
the—white warrior—think sometimes—of
poor—Meneateeah?"
I replied by a gesture, for 1 could not
speak. Hot tears rained down 1113" cheek.
I turned away that she might not see them.
"The—white brave will—see his—lodges
and tribe. The Pale Flower—is happy."
I could not speak. I pressed
her cold brow.
"Brother farewell; —the
waits," she slowly articulated.
A faint smile flickered across
tures, her head fell heavily upon her bos
om—she was dead. She was dead, but
her last thought had been oue of jo 3', that,
l>3 r the sacrifice of her life, I should behold
1113* home once more.
With the consciousness that all was
over, a total forgetfulness of everything
but her fatal devotion came over me. I
remained stupefied, with her form resting
in 1113- arms, gazing intently on the features
of the murdered girl. II >w long it may
have been I know not ; but a deep gutteral
voice at length startled me.
"War Eagle," it said, "it is the brother
of the Pale Flower who speaks-luok up-she
is avenged."
1 raised ni3* head. The chief stood be
fore me, every muscle rigidl3' set, as he
held above his slaughtered sister the tro
phies of the Pawnee's fate.
Not a man of that band of murderers
ever reached their camp. They died be
neath the arrows of the avenging Sioux.
NOON IN A BRAZILIAN FOREST.
An almost death-like quietude reigns,but
it is a quietude induced by the furnace-like
heat with a direct fierceness from which
there is no shadow,except actually beneath
some thick tree, such us the mango, whose
dense and dark foilage affords an absolute,
impenetrable umbrella in the brightest
glare. Such, too, is the smooth-barked
maughbaria, a tree of vast bulk with a
wide spreading head of dense foilage, be
neath which,when the sun strikes merciless
ly on every other spot, all is coolness and
repose. The birds are all silent, sitting
with panting Leaks in the thickest foilage ;
110 tramp or voice of beast is heard, for
they are sleeping in their coverts. Ever
and anon the seed capsule of some forest
tree bursts with a report of that like a
musket, and the scattered seeds are heard
pattering among the leaves, and then all
relapses into silence again. Great butter
flies with wings of refulgent azure, almost
too dazzling to look upon,floatlazil3 7 athwart
the glade or alight on the glorious flowers.
Little bright-eved lizards, clad in panoply
that glitters in the sun, creep about the
parasites of the great trees, or rustle the
herbage and start at the sounds themselves
have made.
Hark ! there is the toll of a distant bell
Two or three minutes pass—another toll! A
like interval, then another bell ! Surel3 7 , it
is the passing bell of some convent an
nouncing the departure of a soul. No such
thing, it is the note of a bird. It is the
carnpanero, of bell-bird of the Amazon—a
gentle little creature, much like a snow
white pigeon, with a sort of soft fleshy ho*n
on its forehead, three inches high. This
appendage is black, clothed with a few
scattered white feathers, and being hollow,
and communicating with the palate, it can
be inflated at will. The solemn, clear bell
note uttered at regular intervals by the
bird, is believed to be connected with
structure. Be this as it may, the silveiy
sound, heard onh 7 in the depth of the for
est, and scarcely ever except at mid-da3 7 ,
when other voices are mute, falls upon the
ear of the traveler with a thrilling and ro
mantic effect. The jealously recluse habits
of the bird have thrown an air of mystery
over its economy, which heightens the in
terest with which it is invested.
QUICK REPLlES. —Napoleon was fond of
quick replies ; he could bear contradiction,
but invariably turned away from those who
addressed him with hesitation or em harass
ment. The following anecdote will suffici
ently prove that a ready and well-timed an
swer was an infallible passport to his fa
vor :
"At a grand review which, on a particu
lar occasion, took place 011 the square of the
Carousal, the Emperor's horse suddenh 7
reared, and during his exertions to keep
the animal steady, the rider parted com
pany with his hat. A lieutenant having
picked it up, advanved in front of the line,
and presented it to Napoleon. "Thank 3 OU,
captain said the Emperor, still occupied
in patting the neck of his steed. "In what
regiment, sire ?" immediate^ 7 demanded
the officer. The Emperor considering his
features attentively, and perceiving his
own mistake, replied with a smile, "The
question is appropos f—in t.he guards." In
a few da3 7 s the newly appointed Captain re
ceived an official notification of the promo
tion, for which he was indebted solely to
his presence of mind, but which his brave
ry and long services had merited."
"HAKDLV KNEW YOU." —A maiden lady, ;
residing in great seclusion, had not been
to church for several years; but on the as
cension of a family property, she bought
herself a new bonnet, shawl and dress, with
the appropriate gloves, boots, (tec., and ap
peared on the following Sabbath in a style
which almost destroyed her identity with
the hitherto shabby and hopeless old maid.
Just as she was walking up the aisle,
and as every eye seemed to be turned up
on her, the choir commenced singing an
anthem, the burden of which was "Hallelu
jah! Hallelujah!" The indignant spinster
retraced her steps down the aisle in high
dudgeon, exclaiming:
"Hardly knew you," indeed! Why, this
is not the first time I've been dressed up. —
'Hardly knew you 1' I guess 1 don't come
byre again very soon."
"WHAT'S whiskey bringing ?" Inquired a
large dealer iu that article. "Bringing man
to the gallows and woman and children to
i want," was tho truthful reply.
#3 per* Annum, in Advance.
SHOCKING TRAGEDY.
Wednesday's Philadelphia North Ameri
can gives the following account of a recent
tragedy in that city :
The tendencies of the retail liquor traffic,
by unprincipled people, were illustrated on
M onday last, near midnight, by a terrible
tragedy at a groggery, No. 1,107 North
Third-st. The circumstances are extremely
shocking.
A woman named Adeline Reidy formerly
kept the tavern above referred to. Joseph
and Isaac Sides were two brothers. Adeline
resides in St. Jolm-st., between Willow and
Noble. She keps a drinking house, and
has a number of women boarders. She
was a married woman but her husband had
left her some time since.
Joseph Sides had also left his wife, and
die, with Adeline's husband, had opened a
tavern in Third-at., below Girard-ave., the
Icene of the terrible tragedy. This place
also contained a number of female board-
era, and was similar in reputation to that
kept by Adeline.
On Monday afternoon Adeline and her
bartender drove to Fairmount Park. Here
they met Joseph Sides in another carriage,
accompanied by a woman. The party con
versed together amicably. On their way
home all stopped at Sides's he being pro
prietor also of a tavern at the corner of
Gerrnantown-road and Girard-ave. Here
several drinks were taken, after which
they drove to the house at Third and Gi
rard-ave., kept Ly the wife of Joseph Sides
and Adeline's husband. Several more
drinks were taken, and all seemed to be
very friendly. Adeline suddenly left, went
to her home, changed her dress, and came
back to Third and Girard-ave. l T pon en
tering the door she encountered Joseph
Sides, and asked him where Johnny Reidy,
her husband, could be found.
Sides replied, "He is in the yard," where
upon Adeline exclaimed, with an oath.—
"You are one of them," and immediately
drew a large dirk, which she plunged twice
into his back, under the left side, piercing
the heart. Sides staggered, sezed a chair,
with the intention, it is supposed, of de
fending himself, and, raising it about three
feet, fell. The woman withdrawing' the
knife a jet of blood spirted upon the floor.
There were two or three pulsations—pro
bably spasmodic—of the punctured heart,
that sent the deep-lined arterial blood in a
welling stream, and the man was dead.
The knife had cut to his heart.
Isaac Sides, the brother of the young mau,
attempted to detain the murderess. The
woman is 24 years of age, has ouce been
handsome, but bears upon her face the
wrinkles that are the signet of ungoverned
passions and habits of irregularity and
dissipation. Isaac seized her, caught her
by tiie back of the head, intending to push
her upon her face and thus disarm her.
He teckoned without his host. The girl or
woman was nerved to strength beyond
that of her sex. He failed to seize her hand,
in which she held the gory knife. On the
contrary, she turned upon him, and giving
thrust after thrust with the rapidity of elec
tric flashes, spilled out his viscera upon
the ground. He died shortly afterward.
The murderess rau precipitately from
the house to her own home, where she had
clothed herself in sailor's garb when the
police came upon her. On Tuesday Coroner
Taylor summoned a jury and held an in
quest upon the body of Joseph Sides.
TOY-MAKING IN GERMANY. —In Germany
the wood work, so far as English importers
know any thing of it, is mostly in the form
of small trinkets and toys for children.
The production of these is immense. In
the Tyral, and near the Thuringian Forest,
in the middle States of the illorganized
confederacy, and wherever forests abound,
there the peasants spend much of their
time in making toys. In the Tyrol, for ex
ample, there is a valley called the Grodner
thal, about twenty miles long, in which
the rough climate and barren soil will not
suffice to grow corn for the inhabitants,
who are rather numerous. Shut out from
the agricultural labor customary in other
districts, the people earn their bread chief
ly by wood carving. They make toys of
numberless kinds (in which Noah's Ark
animals are very predominent) of the soft
wood of the Siberian pine—known to the
Germans as /.iebelnusskiefer. The tree is
of slow growth, found on the higher slopes
of the valley, but now becoming scarce,
owing to the improvidence of the peasants
in cutting down the forests without saving
or planting others to succeed them. For
a hundred years and more the peasants
have been carvers Nearly every cottage
is a workshop. All the occupants, male
and female, down to very young children,
seat themselves round a table, and fashion
their little bits of wood. They use twenty
or thirty different kinds of tools, under the
magic of which the wood is transformed in
to a dog, a lion, a man,or what not. Agents
represent these carvers in various cities of
Europe, to dispose of the wares.
NIGHT, THE POOR IL/S FRJE-NU. —Night
levels all artificial distinction. The beggar
on his pallet of straw snores as soundly as
a king on a bed of down. Night—kind,
gentle soothing refreshing night, the earth
ly paradise of the slave, the sweet oblivion
of the worn soul, the nurse of romance, of
devotion ; how the great panting heart of
society yearns for the return of night and
rest 1 Sleep is God's special gift to the
poor, for the great there is no time fixed
for repose. Quiet, they have none ; and
instead of calmly awaiting the approach of
events they fret and repine, and starve
sleep, and chide the tardy hours, as if every
to-morrow were big witli the fate of some
great hereafter. The torrent of events goes
tearing past keeping eager expectations
constantly on tiptoe and drives timid slum
ber away.
A YOUNG lady of California recently
broke her neck while resisting the attempt
of a young man to kiss her. This furnish
es a fearful warning to young ladies. We
know from personal experience (in days
gone by, alas?)--it is the Sartoga Republi
can that speaks—how prone young girls
are to peril their precious necks by twist
ing away from a Fellow at a time when, by
judicious exereise, or sit and hold-your-head
steady-activeneßs, perlcct happiness would
have been shed abroad, and the ambient
air made luxuriant with glory. Dear girls,
I hold your heads steady, and don't break
I your darling-necks !
IHTEBEBTTNG FACTS OF THE LATE
ASSASSINS
Rev. Dr. Gillette, pastor of the First Bap
tist Church, improved the goleraitiei of then
past week by au appropriate discourse, es
pecially to young men.
He had never been more impressed with
the importance of this duty than during
the sixteen hours which he passed with the
convicts in the penitentiary between Thurs
day afternoon and that of Friday.
On Thursday I)r. G. was called upon by
Assistant Secretary of War Eckert, who
invited hirn to visit the cells of the doomed
convicts for the purpose of administering
to them such spiritual consolation as
needed. Stepping into the Secretary's car
riage, he at once accompanied him thither.
On their arrival, Mr. Eckert introduced him
to other officers, and then to the convicts.
NUMBER 8.
Their first call was upon Payne, whose
real name he soon ascertained to be Lewis
Thornton Powell, his middle name being af
ter the Rev. Dr. Thornton, a Presbyterian
clergyman of Charleston, South Carolina.
Powell welcomed him, and at once pro
ceeded to relate his early history. His
father was a Baptist minister. The con
vict had been from infancy brought up un
der religious intluence. At twelve years
of age he was by his own father con
secrated to God in baptism, and became a
member of the church. In direct opposi
tion to the wishes of his family he entered
the rebellion. For a time he endeavored
to retain his religious character, but be
came connected with Gilmore. This was
his second great step downward. That
was followed by his getting into Mosby's
gang, which was far worse. His next com
panion was Booth.
Dr. Gillette found Powell to be a young
men of cultivated mind, ingenuouH, frank,
candid, and an earnest supplicant for Di
vine favor.
In conversation, he referred to his moth
er and wept bitterly—to his sisters—to the
pleasant seasons once enjoyed by him in
the church, the Sabbath school and the
social circles.
Powell frankly stated his conviction of
the enormity of his crime. The moment he
fled from the house of Secretary Seward
and leaped into the saddle of his horse, his
mind was quickened into a realizing sense
of the horror of the damnable deed which
he had perpertrated, and he became miser
able, wretched—life itself became loath
some.
The Doctor here corrected two points in
the published statement. It was reported
that he wore "a jaunty hat." That hat
was placed upon his head by the advice
and bauds of Dr. G., when Powell's hands
were pinioned behind him. Dr. G. suggest
ed the hat on account of the intense heat
of the sun.
Secondly. It was said on the morning uf
his execution he ate heartily, Ac. On that
morning he positively declined taking any
food; and was equally persistent iu refusing
stimulants of any kind.
His last prayer was, as suggested by his
friend, the Doctor, ' Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit."
Dr. Gillette here addressed his audience
with deep feeling, referring to his own sons,
to the sons of his congregation, to tilt
young men of thit city who habitually vis
it drinking-houses, restaurants, &c.
The preacher then visited Herold, and
his description corresponded with those al
ready published. With great eloquence he
described the scene in which Ilerold's sis
ttfs were present. One of them read to him
from her prayer-book; and after Dr. G. had
offered prayer, the same sister followed in
an invocation to the Throne of Divine Grace
on behalf of her brother, which affected ail
present.
His next call was on Atzerodt. He at
once commenced remarks which crimina
ted Mrs. Surratt, but was gently reminded
that higher duties now developed upon him
—a preparation to meet his God. In this he
acquiesced. For twenty-uine years, he ac
knowledged, he had been steeped in sin;
the victim of base passions, and of the
wiles of artful, designing men. His won
der was, if his soul could be saved! Rev.
Mr Butler, the Lutheran preacher soon ar
rived, and attended him most faithfully.—
From the latter clergyman we learn that
he professed to have found peace witli
Heaven.
The peculiarities of the Catholic church
prevented him front offering any assistance
to Mrs- Surratt, for site was well attended
by Cue Rev. Fathers Wiget and Walter.—
D„\ G., described the scene of the daugh
ter's hasty return to her mother's cell—the
anxious inquiries of that mother, "Is there
any hope!" she replied, "hope is gone!"
" Oh, Father Wigget and Walter prepare
rny mother for death!" In her agony, site
fell against the speaker iu the door-way,
and said " hope is fled."
The Doctor stated that these remarks
were made strictly in a religions point of
view, that being the place for none other.
IN a recent volume of reminiscences, we
find a very neat anecdote of Madame lioths
child, the mother of the well known capital
ist. The old lady's wit, which was remark
able, and her intellectual faculties, which
were of no common order, remained to the
end. In her last illness, when surrounded
by her family, ber physician being present,
she. said in a suppliant tone to the latter,
" Dear doctor, try to do something for me."
"Madame, what can Ido ? I can't make
you young again." "No, doctor, 1 dou't
want to be young again; but I want to
continue to grow older."
THE quantity of digestion that a German
can get over is truly wonderful. We once
boarded with one who disposed of six meals
a day, and filled up the intervals with raw
herrings and sardines. We never knew him
to groan but once, and that was when he
heard that the steamer " Houfer kass "
loaded with sour-krout, had foundered at
sea,and nothing had been saved but officers
and crew.
THE cure of an evil tongue must be at
the heart. The weight and wheel are there,
and the clock strikes according to their
motion. A guileful tongue and lips. It is
the workhouse where is the forge of deceits
and slander,and the tongue is only the out
er shop where they are vended, and the
door of it. Such ware as is made within,
such, and no other, can come out.
Gov. BROWN LOW has recently delivered
himself of the opinion that he would ratlir
er "trust the poorest colored man in Ten
nessee with a vote, than a miserable cant
ing hypocrite of a Rebel, who had sneaked
back into the Union without time to wash
the stains of loyal blood off his hands.
Two Lawyers having a dispute, one sai d
to the other who was a dwarf :
" If you are not more civil I'll put you m
my pocket."
" In that case," replied the little one "you
will have more law in your pocket than
you ever had in your head."
A LITTLE boy at school, when called upon
to recite his lesson, was asked, "Of what
is the German Diet composed ?" The boy
replied, "Sour-krout, schnapps, lager beer,
and nix-coinrous."