The Republican compiler. (Gettysburg [Pa.]) 1818-1857, June 09, 1856, Image 1

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    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 <hreenand
Mother:l—During her' 'Majesty's residence,.
80t110 jean ago, at Osborne, 2u the Isle , of
Wight, her children were a`censtonied to ratitk
hie along, the sea shore, ;,t sel.hapPened on
ono occasion that the young 'Prince otWales
met tuba" 'who hid been gatheriagnes
The boy had go . t basket full. The young
.Prince, presuming upon his high position,
thought hitaself privileged to do what ho
pleased with linpunity. So without any ,
no
tice he upset the boy's tiasket and studio:- The
peer lad
.'wa v,eryr indignant, and_ohserved,
"you. do that agaiii;ind I'll lick Nyou.", "Put
the shells into the baSket," said the Prince,
"and Act) if I don't. The shells Were gathe '
r
'ed up and put into The basket.- -"lstow," said
Vicki& "touch'- - ifv - 7-dr
-; gain it you dare," where=
upon thoPrinee again pitched over the shells.
And the lad "pitched into him," and gave
him such a licking as few Prince: ever hinl.
His lip wen cut open, and hiS eyes of a color
which might have become the champion of a
prize ring., His disfigured face could not,.
long . bo concealed from the royal *Oilier. She
inquired the cause el 'the disfigurement. Thel
Prince was silent, but at fast eonfessid the
Arab.. The poor.boy wawordered before -the
• Qa o4 on. Us.was asked to, tell his story. Ho'
'did Hein a very straightforward manner. At
its eenclusioniturning In her child the Macon_
said,"qton' have been nightly. nerved, Sir..
Iled you not 7 Awn punishe& sufficiently al
ready„ I shouid have' punisbed you severely.
When you *Own& a like offense, 1.• trust *al
['Will 'always retake a .similar, punishment."
Turning to the poor boy, she commanded his
parents to her presence the following morn
ing. They came---and the result of the inter
yiew was that her Majesty told them she had
made arrangements for educating and provid
ing for their son, and she hoped ho would
make 'good use of the advalktages
would beplaced within his reach.—ltirming
ham (England) Journal.
• A Soldier's Story.—During the late- Mexi
can war, the veteran, General Riley, since de:
ceased, was ordered to lead.tho storming Par
tk, at Cerro Gordo. During the war of .1812-
14; Geri. Riley had been shot in the throat,
and 'consequently had a peculiarly strange in
tonation. lie was ordered to storm one of the .
-batteries_of_Cerrritor_do,and vrben_his com
mand ICas mustered, was_thus addressed by,
his second in command:
"General, I du not think we can take this
work."
“Think are not paid for think-
ing."
"Bilt, E 1 1 .," soul Col. R. "we can't take it."
"Can't take it—you have got to take-it."
The old General put his hand to his belt, and
pulling out a paper, said, "Here thir ith Gen.
Scott's orders in black and white to take , —
the thing." .
And they did take it.
rcitirlVe accosted a little fellow fother day.
lie was about the size and built of a lt . kg. of
"doo•-leg" tobacco, and his face was some sorb
of a r 'landscape, done up in free-soil and apple
butter. "Who are you ?" we asked, rather
sternly. "Me 1" saia Young America, trying
to look brave : "Pia One of 'Em---don't you
know me?"
SEir Bosom adjusters is the name of a now
article extensively advertised by our dry - ,
goods, men. They are doubtless very ingemr .
ously contrived, but we doubt their utility. In
the opinion of Dobbs, the only "bosom adjust
er" worthy of a moment's consideration, is "an
honest Conscience." the question is—do
Dobbs right ? •
Dill'erenee Between the Singular and Plural.
—When William, Prince tif,Orang,.e, laiided in
England, he said to the people_whtm he first
met : come for your good, for all your
isawaimmummimionno
se—What. is stronger in death than life?
An old yellow-legged lien. If you don't be
lieve it, try to — disseet one after titans.
NO. 37.