BY HENRY J. STAHL& ' 38' YEAR. •Terms of the "Compiler." The RepitGlii.an Compiler is published every--Monday-morning, at $1,75 per annum if paid in advance-42,00 per annum if not paid in advance. No sub -seription-diseetatiuuedrutriess at the option of the publisher, until all arrearages are paid. Se - Advertisements inserted at the usual rates. Job Printing done, neatly, cheaply; and with dispatch. Ile - Office in South Baltimore street, direct ly opposite Wampler's Tinning Establishment, one and'a half squares from the Court-house, . 4 Cultpu6at" on the.sign. eipiec ocfrj The night is dark: behold, the shade was deeper In the old garden of Gethseniane, When that calm voice awoke the weary sleeper,— ' iiCouldst thou not watch one hoer alone with mo." 0 thou, so weary of thy self•deniala, ♦nd act impatient of thy little cross, Li it so hard to bear thy daily trials,— Tu valid all earthly thing's a gainful loss ? What if thou ALWAYS suffer tribulation, And if thy Chriatian warfare NEVER cease; the gaining of the quiet habitation Shall gather thee to everlasting peace. But here we all must saffert walking lonely The path that Jesua once himself hath gone:. ~Watch thou iu patience through this dark hour only, This one dark hour,—before the eternal dawn. The captive oar may pause upon the galley, The sadier sleep beneath his plumed crest, And Peace may fold her wing o'er hill and valley ; But thou, 0 Christian, must not take thy rest. Thou must walk on, however man upbraid thee, With ilim who trod the wine-press all alone : Thou wilt not find one human hand to'aid thee',— r , One human soul to comprehend tbineown. Reed net the-images for trier thronging • Fromout.the foregone life thou liv'st no more: Faint-hearted inariou still art thou longing, - For the dens line of the receding shore. Wilt then find rest of soul in thy returning. To that old path thou bast so vainly trod 'liar thou fOrgotten all thy weary yearning To walk ausong the children of thy God,— Faithful and steak/rut-in their conw.ration, Living by that high faith to thee eo Declaring before God their dedication, 8o far from 'thee, become so near to him? Canst thou forgeti thy Christian sitPerlcription,- 7 , • "Behold, wa count them happy which endure ?" What treasure wouldst thou, in the land Egyptian, Repass the stormy water • to secure ? Nor wandering soul ! I know that thou art seeking Pome•basierivay, as all have sought before, To silence the reproachful inward speaking,— Some landward path unto an island shore. The cross is heavy in thy human measure,— The way tou narrow for thine inward pride; Thou mast not lay thine intellectual treasure At the low footstool of the.Cruci fled. Oh that thy faith less-sout r -one-gre,at_honr only, _ Would comprehend the Christian's perfect life,— Despised with Jesus. sorrowful and lonely, Yet calmly looking upward In its strife. ' o S i vert and self;renuncition The gather yiedeth back a thousand-fold: Ls the calm stillness of regeneration Cozneth ajoy we never knew of old Ln meek obeitience to the heavenly Teacher, Thy weary soul can find. its only peace ; Seeking no aid from any human creature,— Looking to God alone for his release, And he wilicorne in his orn time and power To set his earnest-hearted children free : Watch only through this dark and painful - hour, And thebright wording yet will break forlhee — e4pitti — sfcri- • 'From Tisrper'ollagaMmt TILUIRYING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. A VIRGINIA STORY. Nathan -Jones, n small farmer in our hail a aughter, as pretty and buxon a lass as ever thumped buttermilk in a churn and whether yon saw her carrying eggs to ana,rket on the flea-bitten mare,'or helping to stir applehutter at a boiling frolic, or mitkin , a long 'reach at a quilting, or;'sitting demure ly in the log meeting-house, on Sunday--in short, wherever you saw' her she always looked its pretty, if nut prettier, than she ever did before. Notwithstanding hes attractions, it will scarcely be credited that Sally had reached the mature age of eighteen without an avowed suitor. Admirers, nay lovers, she had by the -- : -- score; - and - wheneverliquor-was-con-venten , many a sighing bachelor would willingly haVe given hi.-; riding horse, or even his share in - Dad's farm, for her_ There was indeed, no , Jack of will on their part ; the difficulty was in mustering up courage to make the proposal. Mankind seemed, for once, to he impressed with a proper sense of its own unworthiness. Now far be it from any one to infer from this that Sally was prudish or unapproachable.— , On-the contrary, she was as good-humored, as comely, - and disposed to he as loving as she was loveable- Pour Sally !it a - great mis • fortune In.- aOrl to be too hamPorne: almost as great as to be ugly. There she was was, sociable and warm-hearted as a pigeon, amia- Vle as a turtle-dove, looking soft encourage ment, ms plainly as maiden modesty permitted, to her bashful company of admirers, who daw dle bout her, twiddling their thumbs, biting the bark of their riding-switches, and playing a number of other sheepish tricks, but saying never a word to the rirpose. "Either be fears his fate too much, Or :Ala desert is small, Wlio dares not put it to the touch, • - And in or lose it all:" Sally was entering on her nineteenth year when she *as one day heard tn - observe that men were c meanest, slower eowar ies , or'nariest creatures ; in short, good for noth ing bat lay under an apple-tree with their mouths open, and wait until the apples drop ped into them. This obierration was circulated from month to mouth, and, like the riddle of the wai deeply pondered by Sally's loy- ,- its . meanintz, certainly no one hlid pluck enoumh to prove the angNror. .tioi or this p )3r-spirited crowd -wag Sam Bates, a stalwartyouth, who stood, in winter, .11_tvi.1 . t Ifekwp4pch---be.,bota fio ri..iichti#o, `l),9' et iljlii-kets, Y.oefti Opal)) &e. TIE CALL. six fjet two inches in his stockings .(in sum mer he didn't wear any). Sam was not hand :omen the ordinar sense of the term: • Ile was freckled, had a big mouth, and carroty hair. His feet—hut. no matter, he usually bought number fOurteen and a half boots, be cause they fitted. him better than sevens or eights. Sam was a wagon-maker by profes sion, owned a flourishing shop and several hun dred acres of unimproved land, which secured to him the reputation of independence. For the rest, he was a roystering blade, a good - rider, a crack shot -v illra - rifle, -- and an accom plished fidler. Bold to the confines of impu dence, he was a favorite of the fair ; with a heartas big as hifi foot, and a fist like a sledge hammer, he was the acknowledged cock of the walk, and preux chevalier of the pine hill country.. Mr. Bates ,met Sally Jones for the =first time alit a quilting, and - in sixty seconds after sight he had determined to court her. lie sat beside her as she stitched, and even had the audacity to squeeze her hand under the quilt. Truth is mighty and must be told.— Although Sally did not resent the imperti nence by a stick With her needle, she was not halt so indignant as she ought to have been. I dare not say she was pleased, but perhaps I should not be far from the truth' if I did. It is undeniable that the more gentle and modest a woman is, the more she admires . ' courage and boldness in the other sex. Sally blushed every time her eyes met those of her new beau, and that was as often as she looked up. As for Sinn thelonger he gazed the deep er he sank in the mire of love, and by the end of the evening his heart and his confidence were both completely overwhelmed. As he undertook to see Sally h.onie, he felt a numb ness in his joints that' was entirely new to him, and when he tried to make known his senti ments, as he had previously determined, he found his heart was so swelled up that it closed his throat, and he couldn't utter a word. • "What a darned, cussed sneak I wall" groaned Sam, as he turned that night on his sleepless pillow. . "What's come over me, that 1 caultsPeak mymind to a pretty gal-without a-elmkin ?-0 Lord! . - ; . live on this airth. Well, I'm agoing, to church with her to-Morrow; and-if I don't fix matters afore I git back, then draft me." It is probable Sam Bates had never heark ened to the story of "Rasselas, Prince of Aby-* sinia," or he would have been less credulous while thus listening to' the whispers of fancy, and less ready to take - it fur granted that the Acficieneies of the day would - be Applied by the Morrow. To-morrow came, and in. due time Mr. - Bates trickled off in a. bran- new twelve-dollar suit of jews' clothes, was on his way to meeting beside- the beautiful Sally.— Ills .horse bedecked with a new fair leather bridle, and a new. saddle with brass stirrups; . looked as gay as his master. As they rode up to the door, Sam could not forbear. glancino. triumphant . glance. at the crowd of Sally's adorers that stood around filled with mortifi cation and envy at his successful audacity,— Sally's face was roseate with pleasure and bashfulness. top a minute, now, Miss 1 -- Sill ---- y;Plidi - g a, , tai . down and liftye off?" . Sam essayed to dismount, but in so' doing found that both feet were hopelessly fast in a • stirropaa His five s Yelled and reddeate.l ... like a turkey gobbler's. In vain he twisted and kicked; the crowd was expectant; Sally was waiting. "Gosh darn the stirrup !" ex claimed Sam, endeavoring to break the leath ers with his desperate kicks. At this unwont ed exclamation Sally looked up and saw her Ipeau's predicament. The by-standers began to snicker. Sally was grieved and indignant. Bouncing out of her 'saddle, in a twinkling she handed her entrapped escort a stone.— "llere, Sainmy, - chunk your foot out with this 1" Oh, Sall Jones, into what an error did =WlrrYllt s l/121 your timely civility in the presence of the assem bled county—admirers, rivals, and all! , Sam took the stone• and struck a - frantie blow ,at the pertinacious stirrup,, but missing his aim, it fell with crushing force upon a soft corn that had come from his wearing tight boots. "Whoa, darn ye!" cried he, Iwsing all control of himself, and threatening to beat his horse's brains out with the.stone. `Won't strike the critter, Sammy," mid old Jones : "you'll gin him the poll evil; but jilt let me ongirth the saddl, and we'll git you loose in nu time." In short, the saddle was unbuckled, and Sam i dismounted with his feet still fast in the stirrups, looking like a criminal in fOot-hobbles. With some labor he pulled off his boots, squeezed them out of the stirrups, and pulled them on again. The tender Sally stood by, all the while manifesting the kindest concern; and when he was finally extricated, she took _his_itrinandivalkestwith him into chure h. But this unlucky adventure was too much fin. Sam; he sneaked out of the meeting during the first prayer, pulled off his boots, and rode home in his stockings. From that time Sam Bates disappeared from society. Literally and metaphorically he shut up shop, and hung up his fiddle. He did not take to liquor like a, fool, but took his axe and cleared I don't -- krufw — hovi many acre - s - of - rugged, heavy tin'- . tiered land, thereby increasing the value (Allis tract to the amount of several hundred dol lars. Sally indirectly sent him divers civil messages, intimating that she took no account of that little accident at the meeting-house, and at lenghth ventured on a direct present of a pair of gray yarn stockings, knit with her own hands.—But while every cfilirt to win him back to . the world was unsuccessful, the yarn stockings were a great comfort in his self imposed exile. Sam wore them continually, not on his feet, as some matter-of-faa booby might suppose, but in his bosom, and often, during the intervals of his work in the lonely clearing, would he draw them out and ponder on them until a big tear gathered in his eye.— "Oh, Sally Jones, Sally Jones ! if I had only had the spunk to have courted ye Saturday ni ht instead of waitin", till Sunda mornin t ungs might have been different:" and then he would pick up his axe, and whack it into the next tree with the energy of despair. "At length the whole county was electrified by the announcement that Farmer Junes had concluded to sell out and go West. -On the day appointed for the sale there could not have been less than a hundred-hor,zes-tethered •WlTTlV`irliarn Bates wa - TtlieTt as . nea-;) - as a pig in a strange corn Sally nught have been a little thinner than usual, just enough to heighten rather than diminish arms. t w -encra y :nown. t GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA: MONDAY; JUNI47:9„ 1856. was averse to moving West. In fact, she took no pains to conceal her sentiments on the Alb . ed. and her metty e -es were. evident] , red with recent weeping. She 100 e mourn u around at each familiar object. - The old homestead, with its chunked and daubedwalls; -the cherry-trees under which she had played in childhood ; the flowers she had painted ; and then to seethe dear old furniture auction ed off—the churn, the apple butter pot, the venerable quilting . frame, the occasion of so Many social gatherings. But harder than 'all it was when her own-white-cow-was-put -al . her pet that when a calf, she had saved from the butcher—it was too much, and the tears trickled down Sally's 'blooming cheeks. "Ten dollars, ten dollars for the cow !" "Fifty dol lars !" shouted Bates. - "Why Sammy," whispered a prudent neigh bor, "she haiu't worth twenty dollars at the outside," Now when Sally heard this piece of gal lantry, she must needs thank the purchaser for the compliment, and command Suekey to his especial kindness. Then she extended her plump hand, which Sam seized with a de vouring grip that the little maiden could scarcely suppress a scream. She did suppress it however , , that she might hear whether he had anything further to say ; but she was dis appointed. lie turned away dumb, swallow ing as it were great hunks of grief as big as dumplings. When everything was sold off, and dinner was over, the company disposed itself about the yard in groups . reclining on the grass and seated on benches and disman tled furniture.. The conversation naturally turned on the events of the day and the pros pects of the Jones family, and it was unani mously voted a cussed petty that so fine a girl as,Sally should be permitted to leave the coun ty so evideutlyngainst her will. "Hain't none of you sneaking whelps the spirit to stop her!" asked a white-headed mil ler, addressing a group of young bachelors lying near. The louts snickered, turned over, whispered to each other, but no one showed any disposition to try the experiment: 'The sun w:Ls declining in the West —Some gene to harness up their horses. To-morrow, the Belle of Catarii Valley would be on her way to Missouri.. Just then Sally rushed from the house, with a filer, all excitement, step all deterthination. Arrived in the Tani, she mounted the reversed , »le butter kTettle: "I don't want to go A r es 'Gift want to leave Old 'Virginia.; and I won'tleave, if there's a man among ye that has spunk enough to ask' me to stay."' -But- where -is-Southern- Chivalry ?—with ered beneath the sneers of cold-blooded, malig nity?—choked by the maxims of dollar !Ong lingprudence ?—distanced on the circular race course of progress 2—bankrupt through the tricks of politicians ? Deluded querist, no ! Like a strong, and generous lion it sleeps— sleeps so soundly that even apes may . , grim"- mace and chatter insults in its face, and pull hairs from its tail with impunity; but give it a hard poke, and you will hear a roar that 1 will make the coward tremble and the brave • bent. print Hearken to the sequel of Sally Jones; Scarcely had she finished her patriotic ad dress when there was a general rush. The •• • ' - • s • • a . 4i MO lAA wit skins at a bacchanalian festival: "Miss Sally. I axes you ;" "Miss Sally, I spoke first;" "I. be speaks her for my son Bill," sipwakea an oc togenarian, struggling fimward - to seize her arm. To hide her confusion. Sally covered her face with her apron, when she felt a strong aria thrown round her and heard a stentorian voice shout, "She's mine, by thtuley !" Sam Bates cleared a swath as if he had been in a grain-field, bore his unresisting prize into the house, and 61ambied the door.on the cheering crowd. I'tie welting came. off' that night, and on the fonv mortirittb , -Sain—rodedi-i-unong-- bis white cow befoiT and carrying his wife be- hind him." iis un- Be ever gentle with the children God has given vou: watch over them constantly—re p, prove you earnestly, but not in anger. In the forcible language of Scripture: "Be not bitter against them." "dies, they are good • boys," I once heard - a' father say ;- "I talk to them much, but do not like to beat my chil dren; the world would boat them." It wag a beautiful thought, though not elegantly expressed. ''Yes, there is not one child in the circle around the table,• healthful, and happy as they look now, rm whose head if longer spared, the storm will not beat. Ad __versity_may_whither ti em, sickintss may:fade, a cold world may frown on them, bat all, let memory carry them back to home. H o me, where the law of kindness reigned, where the mother's reproving voice moistened with a tear, the father frowned 'more in sorrow than ltt anger.' Valuable Ilcceipt4.—To please the oh. folks while you court the daughter, agree with the father in politieN, and keep the mother in snuff. To please the brother, lend him your rifle and buy him a dog. To please her sister, buy her dress. To please your dlulcinea►, keep her in jewelry and call her an "angel." To please yourself, be a fool. To be unpopular, do what is right, tearless of consequences. To dis please everybody and "the rest of mankind," tell people what you think of them when the occasion calls for it, arid be candid in the ex r pression of your opinion. If these receipts are strictly adhered to, they will succeed to a charm. tar Franklin, when he was an ambassador to France,-being at a meeting of a literary society, and not well understanding French, when declaimed, determined to applaud when saw a lad - of his le( naintanee e-x-nress satisfaction. When they had ceased, a little child, who understood the French, Said to him, "But, grandpapa, you always applauded the loudest when they were praising you."— Franklin laughed heartily, and explained the matter. Farmer, you ti,liryour--w-aods is -a I , 0 , 1 rtirr; littriting-r---Nteot r -w4t4*. tramped through it for throe hours, and found no prate." — Just, so. Well I calculate, as a general thing, the less game there is, the more see unting yuu has" "TRUTH IS yIGIITY, Aid) WILL PREVAIL." sediect Gentleness Sweetens Home; A High Price for Two Potatoes. The following anecdote of the tirBt Napo , elated in &letter from a corresporde who wits a considerable time in the French military service, and who vouches for its au thenticity : The evening before the battle of Ulm, in I SOB, when Napoleon, in company with . Mar shall Berthier,-was walking incognito through the camp and listening to the his - sol diers, he saw in a group not far otf a grena dior of the Guard, who was toasting some po i Atoes in "1 should like a roast potato° above all things," said the Emperor to 'the Marshall : "ask the owner of them .ho will sell one," In obedience to the order, Berthier advanCed to the group and asked to whom the potatoes be longed, A _grenadier stepped forward and - said, "They are mine." "Will vou sell me one ?" "I have only five, and that'shardly enough for my supper." "I will give yen two Napoleons if you will soil me one." "I don't want your gold ; I shall be killed, perhaps, to-morrow, and I - don't want the enemy to find me with an empty stomach." Berthier reported the soldier's answer to the Emperor, who was standing a little in the back ground. "Lot's see if I shall be luckier than you," said the latter, and going up close to the gren adier, he asked him- if he would sell him a po tatoe. "Not Ivy a long shot," answered the grena dier; "I haven't your for myself." "But you may set your . own price.- Come, I am hungry, and haven't eaten to-day." "I telt you I have'nt enough for myself; besides all that; do you think I don't know you in spite - of your disguise ?" "Who am I then?" "Bah 1. The little corporal, as they all' call him ; .am I right ?" "Well, since you know me,_will-sell me a potato?" "No, but ifyou would have me conic and dine with you when we get buck to Paris, you may sup with me to night."' "Done!" said Napoleon, "On the word of a little corporal; on the word of an Emperor." "Well. and good. Our potatoes t oug it. ue clone by tb.4. _c two largest ones, the r tp.‘t I'll eat mysoll."• The Emperor silt down and ate his potatoes, and then returned with Berthier to hitt- tent, merely remarking. "The rogue is a good sol dier, I'll wager." —Twoutontlisafterwards_Napoleon_the_Great was in the Midst of a brilliant court at the pal ace of the Tuileries, and was just sitting-down to dine, when word was brought him .that a grenadier was without, trying to force the guard at the door, saying that he had been in vited by-the Emperor. "Let him come in," said his majesty. The soldier entered, pre sented arms, and said to the Emperor. "Do you _remember once having supped with inc off my roast potatoes ?" "Oh, is that you? Yes, yes, I remember," said-the Emperor ; "and so you-have come to dine with me, have you ? Ruston, lay anoth-, er cover on your table for this brave fellow." Again the grenadier presented, arms, and said :"A grenadier of the uurd does not eat. with jaelwys. r mai esiy told me 1 shoula dine ith7you—that- was the bargain, and trusting to your word, I have come hither." '1 rue, true," said the Emperor, "lay a coy!. „ i• I • , , • . . 9 . ' anti, (my friend,) draw up to the table.” Dinner over, the grenadier went, at his usual pace, took up his carbine, and.turning to the Emperor, presented arms 119) said: "A mere private ought not to dine-at the table of his Emperor." , . "Ah! I- understand- you," said Napoleon; "I name you Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and Lieutenant in Inv company of Guard p„." "Thank you heartily; Vice C Empercur 1" answered the soldier, and Withdrew. r. , •"'Z'"llo w is your patience, doctoi.?"• rs. art ing on, pus ling np the wri - idow and thrusting out her head as Pr. IL des rode by. It was at the time when the, venerable Aims was just recovering from a protraeted attack, during which he had been so sick that his friend, the President of the Perpetual Life Insurance Company, had told his friends' in confidence that he wouldn't insure Aims's life for fifty per cent: The doctor reined up, with a gentle "Wort" and replied that his patient was convalescent.. The good old lady - held up her hands, "I declare," said she, with an ex pression of pity -on her countenance that might have served as the capital stock of three modern philanthropists, "I declare I run sor ry for it hut 1 dare say you can cure any body of convalescence, if any body can. The doe tor construed the remark into an ironical re flection on his practice, and rode 'away rather petulantly, and didn't look at the house for three days thereafter when he rode by. T lte_Age_of a Iforge.—Ajna: to buy a horse, asked a friend how to tell a horse's age. "Ity the teeth," was the reply. The next day the man went to a horse deal er, who showed a splendid black horse. The horse hull ter opened the animal's nit,ath, gave one glance, and turned on his heel. "1 don't want hint," said he ; "he's thirty two years old." He had counted the teeth. Throw in lloosiers they call cotton thread, "boss," a term few Yankees understand in that way. A fair brunette one day stepped into the store. of a young man and bought a dress of the clerk. After it was cut off, she said to him : reckon you'll throw in the 'boss ?' " "Certainly," - replied the clerk, with his mouth stretched from ear to ear, "we'll throw in the `buss,'—hero he iB, you are welcome to him." Three Ends fo is Rope.--A lad,' wishing to turn sailor, applied to the captain of a vessel for a berth. The captain, wishing to intimidate him, handed him a piece of rope, and said : "If you want to Make a good bailor, you must Make three ends to that rope." - "I can do it," readily responk !Imre is one, and here is another—that makes two—now, here is the third"—and threw it overboard. ''.Naturalisis have remarked that the squirrel is eontinuallv chattering to his fellow squirrels in the wp4s. This, we have every reason to suppose,' ritiesfrom that animal's retie oflT,4}ip, trls now ioudy t otre7l r, atest tad-hearers ninon;;,, SF„3-Them is nu better luoking glass than an u IHM LETTER FRO THE NORTH WEST. We bare been politely favored with the perusal of an interesting_ letter - from - Dr. KUM, of the Navy, (tt native of our Coun ty,) dated on board the U. S. Revenue Cut ter “Jefferson Davis," Seattle, Puget Sound, Washington Territory r _April___lld,_ from which we cull the following estracts:—Sent: "Nero I am_ at the "seat of war," after a pleasant voy age of a.dozen days from "Merry Sari . Yran• eisco," whence we sailed on the evening of the Bth of March. The scenery along the Sound is wild and l?eautiful in the extreme-; the dense forests of Fir and lino extend from the water's edge, as far as the eye can reach, until the snow-covered mountains of the !'Coast Range" look decidedly pleasant and cool in the distance. - My first visit ashore was at Clallam Bay, where the sub-chief, "Captain Jack," came off to tell us that his "Mamma and Papa," as well as a number of his tribe wore sick; and to ask the "Boston Doctor" to come to see them, and to give them some "medi cine," that they might get'well: I went along with him on sight, with a great deal of pleasure, and we were met on the beech by such a lot of squaws and papooses'as I never Saw together. The old 'chief led the way with quiet dig= nity to his own "wigwam,' where his jrife and parents were, and afterwards, to, all the others ; they had a number of sick, bough none very seriously so, and they brought them out in the greatest confidence that the "..iterticitie Nan" would -mire. them all ; wish to Heaven I could. They live in large, wooden lodges,' as comfortable as they know how, and OA nearly is a perfect state 'of tit- turo as poss . '. o; tsey are very , in. o eac other, especially to their parents, and 'live upon game, fish, clams and wapatoes.(po tatees,) and very good they•are too. They are a fine looking , race of men, of _a light tan-colour, and dark hair and eyes ; the young women are handsome enough,' but the old ones are, anything else in the world ; they do all the work and look tired and care-worn as possible. - I did,not forget to bring my, pipe dad t 6 .1 ham° with me, and after my 'duties were over wo bad "a great smoke. 'I cannot tell you what a pleasant and interesting time it was to me, and how perfectly at home I felt in that "wigwam"; they are all' "flatheads," and I saw one little fellow about half a dozen moons old, with' - his head as ; flat as a flounder; afterplayiug, with it for a_while, I asked her (the mother)if sb& would give it to me ? but she folded her , arms convulsively around it and looked as though she "could not" and would ntit , es I 1 I I a, self," and she was a - mother, though she ' was an Indian I would have remained longer, though it was as dark as pitch and raining like all out of doors, but is was time to go on board; they.gave me some arrows, painted with shell, that they use for shoat: ing ducks, and with many shakos of , She baud, T. bado good-6.y0 to tny new Indian friends. We passed along within Sight of the'llri., tish Porwssions of the Hudson's liay Com. nd----ttnelAoiedt—Part —T6wnsoud_o the 22d. , This consists of about 20 wooden housed and a blockhouse, built ciptin the beach, and a steep bank' 80 feet high; behind it--:the level of - the Forest and Prairie f as far as - tbo eye can reach, and is rather a pretty place. There-ore a number of. Indians here under their - Head Chiet - the "Duke of York,". the most noble specimen of his race that hive seen yet; I' paid bum a visit at his "wigwam,' and wo soon became friends fOr a lifetime at least. The soil is good, and I went around look ing at everything, and' it was as pretty a sight as I ever witnessed, for it is early spring, and all nature was putting on her holiday clothes and trying to look her pret tiest. AB I was going along, wondering why 1 - came-to -su el 1-a-"-wooden-- coun try/LI-met, a man with his arm in a sling, who told me that in firing off a cannon ou board of a ves sel, about six weeks ago, it exploded, break ing his arm, and mangling his hand, while a piece of it took off the top of his scalp, and then out its way half through the fore mast--close shaving that. k•ho wanted I asked him what bad been done for his arm, and he said "Nothing."—l then asked to look at it, saying, "that's my trade," and found him about to have a useless and crip pled limb for life, as I told him. Ho beg ged me to attend to it, and I went to work, got some splint and bandages, &e. Nest morning (Easter) I went ashore, taking the Carpenter and my German friend Shrotter, to assist me. I 'knew it would be very pain ful, and put him under the influence of chloroform ; but when I began,_ Shrotter cleared out, swearing that he could not " stand it." It was all over 'Very soon, and I put the bones to right while be was dreaming of .!. .g_theindians over again, and applied the bandages. When he awoke ho cried like a child, poor fellow ! and I felt,very sorry for him; and his younc , Indian wife sat by, looking very sorrowful in her quiet grief.— fle is an intellig,cht, fine-looking fellow, and has lived here four or five years. When he was more cheerful, I left him to go on boar to - re.a. ast, - as t e utter was Tea y to sail for this place, where wo anchored on the night or the 24th. m i xtsuau r t • ging . I tor I • e.ll i safe and well thank God TWO DOLLARS Ott-YEAR. -; hostilities. This town was attacked by the Indians some time ago ; and, after going over thebattle_grountLa,lew days ago, the wonder to mo is, that they did - not take the place, for they were concealed and sheltered by the timber, within gun-shot of the town, and only dislodged by the shot and shells thrown among 'them by the "Decatur," after a fierce battle during an entire day. They fight fiercely and cunningly, and are not much afraid of the "Bostons," as they clan alrth eAm eritrans. There are a number of friendly-Indians, under the care of Agents, and their Chids, who are fed and clothed by the government, and kept OUt of harm's way upon the "Res ervations," not engaged in the war. This is a town containing about fifty or sixty houses, situated. upon the Sound, and surrounded by the forest. Lately this has been out down for some distance, and a breast-work thrown , around the place ; and, with several ships of War at anchor, ready for notion at a moment's warning, I think the Town of "Seattle" is safe. I think i never lived better : this is the greatest place for fish of all kinds that ave ever seen. A; one sweepof the seine,. ' our men ..caught over 200 codfish. You know I never was-very fond of fish-Women or fish ; htit freah'saliuon, or codfish;smo king before a man; ten minutes after he was swimming alongside' ' is sufficient to 'make a hungry man forget his projudices, titd for , give all his enemies: -- There are two steaming and -one sloop of war here, and `thaofficers, among whotti are four; surgeons, are, fleofellowe, and our time •:,spent as, fleasautly , ;is possible. . hitsti I.arti writing, there are twenty-five rgo canoes lull of doming across the Sound. , think ,they are friendly In dians, f6 r tey aro laming etrsight-forWard, ea ; and, if otherwise, thes, had better not come = —that's all. On Sunday, a poor Indian s*t shot him self in the arm, accidentally._ Re refused to have amputated E and is‘ gone to the hUntintgroundwof his fathers. Loov fel low I he wss briVa and patient, and died without a groan.l - S'avtre,resBonito a .Prince. L-4 Model