EMI C. F. READ & H. H. :F AZIER, EDITOR ifoefs _pros the ~Leetiatille Jaerstil. , • A WINTER NIGHT. i • PT ear 11/XPSTIAD. A glorious hard has sung the evening wind . In tones that warble like a brook in June; But had he wrapped the "draperT.Of his each About him , 'in this bleak.and haunted room, This anticie, mehuicholy,',rooaniog room,. Where I lie down to dream, but not to alai", And, half afraid, see my expg, lamp • Shoot its saga, ghastly Bicker o'er the walls . Like the tbin.robes of spectres in a donee Around a tehin's grave, and flare and bend Before theinsolent and prying gust; Ilwithat sleet bard lain down to sleep and dream In this antique, dim, melancholy room, _ ' tie could have heard a wilder voice than leaves Kissing each other's foreheads lathe dusk Of Summer eves, or dance of fluting breeze, • Or lioarser.murtnnr of the restless waves. Roar, roar! Great God bore Then dost make the whir* The free, Wideyringed, thundering winds of heaven, A mighty Orgati-pipe to roll Thy praise, ••• -Thy.yower, and glory through the frighted world! Shuddering, I draw my Weary frame behind - • . Its pißowyishield,' responsive to the*, • The thrill, ad hOrrcr of the oak-ribbed walls And shivering pines far out upon the waste That wriihe and groan •at every woundednerve. The air boils as it never boiled befirre. - • si nce God.threw Wide the windows of the sky And hurled such delnge down of darknem, And Madras rain, as blanched the Froth out the old world's guilt-beds Tossing her *lc:4r - died hills as winds., dead leaven, Whelming her,Vineyards, towers, - and golden abr., Her temple's herds, and`thrones, within a gaff Of Amy, voiceless, starless nothingness. • • Rave, rave; ye 'winds and clarion the name, The power, and terror your master, &God! For there is One dialed& you in Uis hand Or bids you forth to pile the world with wrecks.' To-night my soul is leaning toward the shrine Of that resplendent, sweet idolatry • , Which drew the hearts and hoary forms &Ma— nia glorious bards and wild-eyed priestesses': That roamed amidst Dodona's oaksand heard In Tempe's olive shades the song of nymphs, • Aid cbarrnful pipings of voluptuous Pan, • And saw in clouds and the red path of storms The wrathful brow and lifted arm ofJove. • Their prescient eves interpreted the light . _ 0f41,e Undying bream, the Life to come; And in the calm or ruffled elements; In streams that wandered through the solemn groves, In flowers;! and starsmid smiling autumn winds That shook thelruilage from the mellow boughs, srr And shouting War that blackens the green hills And, doh& all their limpid purls with blood, They saw s living likeness of themielves • . In passion,. love, and the grim lust of power. And I, to-night, can deem the caged winds Have issued forth at the loud signal-blow Of their great lord, against the dungeon walls ' In wrath and vengeance bearing sword and shield, The lofty front and fiery, blood of gods • To seize and tear the royal ermine - folds That robe the rocky shoulder:ref the hills! Thatjaragain! Heavens! when did mortal car • Rock on the . surges of so fierce a Wail ? Or Fancy. eddy down the bo'ding gulf - Of found so iron-tongued and thunder-barbed? All, the groans that rocked old Cantrae's bills, The black-lipped 'cannon whose tremendous growl Rent the dun sulphar-dome of Waterloo, - Were Zephyr -notes beside your maintain harp, 7 awful shades and, hollow-bugling winds! Hell from beneath is moved to walk the earth;. And flute her drunken joy along die crags! The stars have toppled, from their diamond thrones And drowned their fiery foreheads'is sea. . Of frozen darkness and chaotic night— The keen gusts seize the burly, spectral drifts And scourge them forth in dials bf tingling fog, Till the Wide atmosphere and haggard fields Seem one black sea of hungry, waren mad, - And this bleak hill, the lone y eleiguered isle, On which the frosty billows warp and clang Like some enormous, grim, funereal bell, Rag by the red and bony hands Ofghoula, • 10 peal their-triumph o'er a shattered world? ' • And I, in.trembliiig, ask the distant woods, - The hissing, trenchant snows and my own heart, Hew shall anothessammer month* burst, Or violet open in the icy vales? Threarmi.D. Can. . • . I414.:410 :.Bk.efebeS. ONE DAY'S SACRIFICE: DT VIRGINIA F. TOWNIFICID. `Oh, dear I. wish I knew what to do r The lips were just like the tone, that mo. ment, hilt pOtitieg, half wishful; indeed, this was the expression of the Whole face, as it pres-scd itself closer up to the window-pane that morning.' It was a sweet film though by "no means a betnitife/ one;ind- you felt; intuitively chat the pout: was improvised,' and that . s smile was the: indigenous expresSion of the full, - rounded , lips, and of the clearizazel eyes. . They Itoked out, those eyes, on winter mornin,g cold ,and still, for the night before had woven its -stainlest robeover brown field and barren hill, and the trees lifted up their charred foreheads ander . the *kite baptismal of Deeembe-r. lead the clouds were slowly wrap ping their'gray folds away from the atm, and reveatng plcasset interlu - des'of soft blue 'sky, the moreing'S blessed prophecy written in , the heavens ; above, to the earth beneath, 'The day shalt be a very bright one.' • Whdt a , glorious time they will 'have,' murmurs GrAce Hammond, while . her little fingers Move along the high frostaim on the edges of the pane. t tun fifteen miles to the. green, and they'll be three hours getting there. Then 'Such delicious' sleighmg as it will be, ankthereaxe twenty couples, going,. Cousin iii rley said.' • How I should enjoy it, With the late &I nk, and; the evening plays, and the delight. ful ride•borrie%by moonlight:; Oh! it - seems to me .I never ' ranted to — go anywhere so much in my: life." ' • ' . But that there's Mettle, dear child, she'd enjoy it even more than I wpald, berried up as she is, Week safter week, in that old red school house,with those tiresenieboys a girls.' Goodness I believe it would drive me crazy in less than a month, and yet bow pa tiently and nobly she beans it If her father hadn't, made that wretched speculation before be died, mortgaging ores the house they livcd in.! ' • ' " Mrs. Palmer with:lief feeble hesidi, end thoie two little children, all dependent on "Mattie's services, and she so delicatelly, no. • tenderly reared. I. declare, it makes my heart ache to think of it.' • Didn't she look sweetly,' though, at our party the other evening: I s poke before I thought, 'Mattis, hoiebeoonung Mari le tie you, sad then the tears .acme into her eyes. It was careless -of - . - Weston Hunt was 'really _quite. smitten with her. I could see this "eV -- 1 01 andi the attention he paid her all the - wrening**l then this awning forth go In the ilitglikagPme ty to day:Troves tit* if ever =enol4l Why,there]ia% s.gid la all. ar brosile that wouldn't be proud of his -attentiesek—'• And then, low- some Of theta bare treated /fattier 6f laic, just bees - use the family have ~ . - • -:,--. PH . I, : '-',':i.,-.-1" : : , ! -. - ,. ! -''.:1 ; : , - ' - t' -: :' •-• .:'-' 1 . 1 -: ''. - -:_. , : --:- --... . 1 -.. ' - -.- •.. : - ~. i., ~_ _ :,..,..,. - , . .., ~ , i . .. , ' , •,:,. :1 1 . . I' ' ' : --:. - -I ' : , -..: •- •-• ''' ', : : ' : l :-.1-• ...' - ---':. ':.:1-:.: I. . - : 1 ''' ' ' '. . . .. . , ...,, „ . . • . . . , . ....., • • ~' -4. ......:;.- ,-..: -..--, i , •- ' , J..; ' -,;;:.;. .-;...: . . . . . . . . ..,... . .. . . .. .•.. , . . : '11 .. :: f . .• •.. ,-.' . . . . . • . . , . . .. - ~. ~_6 . 6 I FREEDoPa- . 4amb:taAami- 1 31.n, . .. .. ~. . - MONTROSE,. T II: . .. _ . . _ . lost the* y. e perfect dame, 1 • " But sibeet, the sleigb ri4e,,ihseetbs gem tioe and Lima decide it • I Charley% be so dhappointed if I don't go,' and the old, ball' puutiog, half irresolute look dashed across the sweet lace. 'But there's Wattle again. It world be such a . change, such a pleasure to her to get out of Una st4tool-roont for a day ; and it I were to teach for her I could think whin night came, I'd made her so happy, if I hadn't been so myself.' I will, too ; that's settled now, Grace HaturnOnd, you don't go ;on that seighing party today 1' And the young girl' perorat. ed this decision by bringing down, her hand emphatically son the window-sill. Grace Hammond's monologue must have given you a glance into her inner self, read er ; and I can only outline fur you, very briefly,, her mental character. • , She was the only child of a wealthy farm er, petted, and half spoiled from her infan-, CY. But shelves ardent, and impulsive, with a rich, deep, loving nature, which no estrum:. ous circumstances could 'entirely change. She had her faults, and they -were many, but her heart—and it is a blessed thing when you can say this of a man or woman—her heart was a true one. Mattie, darling"---to wrote Grace Ham mond ten minutes later—"iyou are going on this neigh ride, so just don't say another word About it. Cousin Charley told me Mr. Hunt sent you the* invitation an' hour ago, and I've taken a notion to play 'school ma'am for yon to.day. I've been on scores of sleigh rides this winter, and I think it will do you as much good to drop the mantle of your dignity on me to-day, as it will my giddy self to assume it.. --- , - - SO then* of that setsiol , hood from 3 our brown curls, my darling, and call_up the old smiles to the soft:bloom of your lips, the old light to the summer-blue of, your eyes; and in all the annals of youth; love and sleigh rides, .may-there . be no page so'bright as the one this day shall write in the history.of Mat tie Palmer and Weston Hunt, most fervent 1-/ prays oases 11,11XXOND. 1 Not going, - GrFe Why, you're surely not itiearnest,' and a look of mingled cha grin and disappointment, clouded the fine fea tures of ; the young man as he turned them on his companion. Yes; I am, Charley. You see . I've made an engagement for the day i which renders it quite impo&sible for me to go. I'm sorry, but it ean't-bs: helped.' is - In spite other efforts,` there was a little thread of disappointment running through the studied, calmness of the speaker's • voice. A fiddle on our engagements; Grace.— Why, this will be the greatest sleighing par ty of the *wpm. Come, now, don't think for a moment of staymg at home. We can'tdo without you at all , st) go and get ready in a hurry, for we start at. ten.. There's a. good girl' . • Poor Grace ; it was vet's, hard to refuse the pleading of those dark, handsome eyes, for Charles 'lltunson was more to the girl .than many; cousins ; indeed be was rather nominally than really her relative—althoegh some marriages between members of their respective families gave the young people the • privilege of this appellation. • do not urge 'me. I am very grateful for your invitation, and it pains me more than you can imagine to refuse it. Bnt I am compelled tu do this.' If Grace's manner was cold, it was because her words cost her such an &wt. 'Very well,_Grace. Of course, rsluill not press my claims my further. Excuse me, if in my desire to secure your company, I have. been importunate. Good morning.' He lifted his hat with his natural grace, but the old, frank Bailie was not on his lips as be left her. ' 'There! he is certainly offbnded with me, I knew it would be so,' murmured the girins she sank back on the rota, while the tears brimmed over her brown lashes ; for ,Grace was making no light sacrifice this morning. 'l'm almost sorry I sent Hattie that note, bat it le too late to recall i't Charley will take Jane Marton with ' I know, and it will be a great triumph fi, i t , r to think he's slighted me.' And the N I haughty face of the doctor's daughter. rose i , fore the loung girl, while a sharp pang 0 - onsrquivered through her been. But it was wes;ing lowa , a nine o'clock, and Grace had lit e time C. reflection. i i ikal '1 must get Tom to take 1 e over in the cutter,' she murmured. ' can easily gain mamma's consent , she is sobind hearted,and Mattie irstich a favorite jw ber. Good ness l' glancing at the small ins clock on the mantel, '1 must be oil ' twenty min utes.' k. . ' Gracie, Grace, how shall thank you!' Grace stood - at the window, obed for her iide to school, and waiting impatiently for the sleigh to \present itself at the, front gate, when these words, wkispered„ because of the tars that lay behind than, reached her ear. She tinted quickly. ' Why, Mettle, what has brougtt you over heirs;." - ' I couldn't go without thanking you. Oh I Grace you have made me happy! And now Putties arms were.round Grace a neek,while great sobs were shaking ber figure; and tears ' raining from the large, mellow eyes. 'Yonne real naughty girl.' Games tone was half expostulatory, half scolding. ' Now you'll epoil that charming Jfitce of yours.aftter all my pains,' and she stroked the rich brown curia that fell out of the black straw bonnet ' Do you bum you're goiog to pug this day with the telly eon of a millionaire, who, by this invitation, gives very strong evidence °rimming _been captivated by your naughty little .elf' ' - 1 Mattis placed her hand km Grace's lips,and shut back the tears from her sinning eyes. . . ' Gracie,' she mid, - and the tonestremulons at first, grew Mau% and , deep with pathos as she proms&d. ' i I must; - tine growing very wa&, for it CIMM 4/0 bard for tms to refuse that invitation this morning. , Ifos -bmow it is so lung since I have WI soy- relizatkes, any ~and thisbcd,berm, toileome lire wooed . ebpsimall around T e,in: A pimp gled viikell *UV th it, n. 6 carom trout . delight at rower_ ~ 6g my bands sp-with IV amp esi 43,1 the biopsies , that emir tilled Sher* , And 10 1 1 . riebrlA Shat, ,Alri! Udall wooi'issoli a .dloury . to lost fer -74 see; dire, I Wee .gitering .i [ iW; andi Soft bow' ny World an go'. 'rid 'ad bmptikr" oft me theta In brthe tees with ofthetantitotiktimat: - - WA lationsasi wrote ley repels witlt si study band, luit 0, with rota a heavy heart• Just as I 'had finished it, your note earne--0, - Grace, bow shall I tell the rest.' ' 4 By saying nothing about it, Matte. And now, do you go - straight home, mud dress roureelf nicely as possible for the 'ride.— There. Tom. Good bye, and ,a bright day to your darling. There was a quick rain of soft kisses on the &Imp_ cheeks of Mettle Palmer, and Grace was gone. am not of those, reader, who believe ttat the doing good always brings at once, its own exceeding greed reward, but rather that it is oft times a blessed legacy, which the present bears through darkness and sorrow, to dower the future. And theretore, I cannot assure You that Grace Hammind passed an especial pleasant day in the old red school house, which stood at_ the intersection of the tour principal stage routes from Meadowbrook. I' know that once during the morning a sud den mist dampened her hazel eyes, for the wind brought the gay rhythm of ' the sleigh bells to her ears,4.arid she heard . the joyous laugh of the yrifinglparty, writ _leaped out, full and rich on the frosty air. • For a moment the oak desks, the .long benches of black and brown and flaxen' heads, swam before her, and I wish I was with them rushed involuntarily to her lips.— But the after thought fidlovred quickly, I am glad Mettle is thefe.' • And when the work - was done, the last schOlar dismissed, and the short December day, ;caching out its cold ants to the night, Grace Hammond knelt in that little school roombind thanked . the Father that he had giv en her strength to make this sacrifice, that she had obeyed His great, royal law, in lov ing that day her neighbor as herself. It was a merry company the great parlor of the old hotel contained that evening.— Sweet breaks of laughter, the etTervescer.tc of youth and glad spirits, came over rosy lips, and bright eyes glanced ; and graceful figures fluttered about the long, old-fashioned room. Don't you think it very funny Grace Hammond isn't here asked a young girl,as she came up to the corner where the village belle sat, her head. leaned grgcefully to.some complimentary speech which Charles Mun son WWI that moment making her. Well I don't know.' • And the lady twist ed her diamond ring round her white finger. I presume she would have come, "had she received an invitat ion." • There was a quick, half imperceptible etirl of the young man's lip; notwithstanding his at front at her refusal,Miss 'Hammond was to his heart what the haughty lady at his side could never have been. I had the honor of inviting her myself,' was the reply that well. nigh sprang to his lips, and with , all his chivalry, it. was exceed ingly difficult to suppress it. But Ilitattie Palmer had beard ,all this, as she stood near, leaning over an engraving of rustic life, on whose naturalness Mr. hunt was descanting, and her face flushed eagerly as she turned toward the trio, and her sweet, earnest voice answered : 'Grace remained at home to take charge of my school to-day, so I could come here. It was very, ray kind of hen' Charles Munson's proud face bent on Mat. tie a look that she could not interpret; a look of mingled delight,gratitude,and tender newt, which she had never seen there before. He imderstood it all now—the sacrifice she had made, and the pain it had emit her, and looking down in his heart, be felt for the 'first time, whose face was shown there, se. rene and holy, and that Grace Haminond was his Soul's selection. No yonder hia , companion repeated her question three times before he beard her. 'So you prefer school teaching to sleigh riding, do. you, Grace? You know .I always thought you eumething of a blue, but I never supposed you would carry the matter to such lengths.' It was the morning of the day after the sleighing party, and Grace was leaning over the rare exotics which occupied the . deep re cess by 'the sitting c rootn window ; now peer ing into the rich heart ofa half opened rose, or cautiously Ming the bells of the clematis blooms, sprinkled like snow-flakes among the dark leaves. She lifted her fitce from the flowers among which it was half concealed. Why, cousin Charles , good morning . ! Who toad yon I had bee n teaching - 4 No' matter now. You needn't blush so prettily about 14 though you were a very naughty girl for not telling me the truth.and letting me go offended with you,'And he laid his hand on .her shoulder, and looked so fond ly down on her.drooping Glee, which surprise and embamil*inent was incarnadining with blushes. `Of course, I couldn't tell you my motives for declining your invitation, Cousin Charles,' she said, unconsciously pulling off the geran ium leaves, and scattering them on the car pet. It would have looted too much like soundings trumpet in my own praise.' You are a proud little girl, ain't you.-- GraCie 1 But I don't like you any' the less for it. He smoothed carelessly the plaits of her hair over the fair forehead. I wonder if you'll be too proud to answer the question I am about to ask youl' and leaning down ; the young lawyer whispered it to the girl. I do not know what the answer was, but I do know thit they stood a long tithe, con versing in a low tone, by the window that morning. And when Charles Munson parted from Grace Hammond, he clasped both her hands in his, and said, with mingled tender ness and fervency, May God take care of :you, my Grace.' , ' Now tell me_ all .About the ride Mattiei— you know TQU are not going home until af ter tes, se gust sit *down w itbout any demur ring' And Grace. pushed Mettle into the cushioned win chair, and tmfitstentd her bon- - netstrings -while she spoke We bad a delightful time, Grace. I new enjoyed rnysellhalf so mueli in all my ilk.' But the beaming of the smile was half lost in the tdusbes that gathered into the nasally pale item 'Grace saw tbese, and with a:woman's in. tuthh,t r oihwhaltdivined *hat lay behind them. vuoith In!si to Mattie's feet, and th e goy - fight alas departing day lookedintik the esiadays, and ash pkture +which an *dist ml~t base rejoiced in. eneemksta attitudes of, the two 1 6k m sweet, 'Tidied (see &theme. the`rehe,Hrsiii half' outline elf the at& *Okada' by Hit diti ends -of brown-black bora *who beautiAd contrast. Alai ins Mr. Bat risaireerilkisad &fit LEOZYT @LAVERV zaac) w2c)Heio99 lariats usuall queried Grace; looking up archly ' teller friend's . eyes 4 ! .. 'Of ki urse•he Was;(but, we Will not .talk about Aat now; darling. I have conic over here t0.' , .. y once More, 'Grace,il think you,' but am seems a very-little, when I feel so Muck'! I • ; ' •i 'Do ' t say it then, Mattie; or rather say It t io .! s ,that He gave met strength to re- Wst the mptation;for it was Apt a light one, hen * , rley came'for me ; say it to God That H put it in 'My heart to pass one day of my I re in doing unto- other 4 as I would ' have th.nt do unto me I , . Tcai 7 tears of happy gratitnde were sWel ing ove the blue eyes of Grace Hanna - Ion& . ' Yesdarling, I will say it for you, as I l have sai it for myself every night for . the past.ye r,' and Mattie laid her ;hand solemn. .ly on 4 -ace's hair. ; . . 'lt been to me a year of struggling ' and bit ' mess, of darkness anl.tears: . Oh, Grace,,i is a very hard thing to feel that the mother ou love, and the little sisters whose helplets ess only folds them dpser to your heart, a, e dependent upon you Ifor the bread they ea' for the roof.that sheltsrs them.' • • ' 7 'l kn i w it is, dearest, and you have been a brave, noble girl, to do and stiffer all , you have de. le for the past year, and .. Con e,. girls, supper's : all . ' trdy.' Mrs. . Hamm' .nd's kindly tunes broke!into the room suddeni and terminated the interview: 1 am so glad, Charley;' and Grace, p from the- - sofa, and,' , , clipped her i cefully tua - a child. The young mati into the face of his betrothed, and how very sweet and childlike she with that joylight' breaking into her Oh 1 .1 sprang hands gazed u thought seemed.; eyes. She significa l entlnuoi. ' `lca tinned, told tne w the glance, and the 411-fond half it smile, and, blusiiing', at her own in, returned quietly tolhis side. not help rejoicing greatly' she, con- If apologetically, • at,what you hare To think that my little hiattie's steps hake come out into the sujilight againr . 'She s . really engaged to your : friend, you say; ley, and will be.theylfe of a - mil lionaire,a and what is much more, of a' good, true ho nest man.' . : k , ‘ll3-O,u knew, as.l do, how.tnan i y pages of her life have been darkened and wetted 'to gether With very bitter tears, rim would be glad as ill am, at the good fortune that has OpITIO to her at last.' 'Wch with a li running; now ore) for 1 lin / world tegrity Westonj h ' But which y relined 1 meekly, place who pul er: - - .. • Whe the m • , Grace,' answer l-the 'young man, j tle emphasis of natural indignation rough his tones. she . can triumph T r all who haie treated .her unkindly, lw him well, and in wealth that. the flors, in high social poition, in in- If life, in nobleness of lititrt and mind, tont is a man among a million.' attie is above any of that, triumph of u speak,Charley. Suffering has only er character, and she will go up very, with her own quiet grape, to the new igned her, remembering it ii; God eth down one slid seueth up- anoth- the green feet of Mai came over ow-brook, there. were ;two bridals y stone church on the'green. MEM se's sake it was that Grace Ham m • ,(1 attm Palmer were 'married to- For I mond getter. _ Story o the Tin Paler and Sleepy Davi& Theit flowing story , extracted from the work " Yankee among the Nullifiers," pur ports to be told to another by a South Caro linian : The Yankees, as I said before, are apt to be too cute .for us in everything butt horse flesh, and even sometimes in that. It was this day three yeitns ago, and on this very spot, that I entered my horse Southron for &purse of two lhousanii. He bad won alike mint the year before with all ease. In abort Ise was the best hole at that tittle in South Parolins.— Ttiere Were, to be sure, two otherlorses, and very fine too, entered ageinit bin), but the , loch to ,Soutbron, and 1 was as - log as I am of sitting here at hen who should Cole along 'ankee, with a tia,aull He t, Worst looking 4orse I ever He was a lean,-slab-sided, rough haired, soU.of a gut; tour legs. He stood all tbe as asleep—in fact bis owner is David. In shOrt, sir, he tim cal' as would not baie brought VHS tw Je. hour of starting; whene ... pedt _. i. , exterior corresponded mar t - lously iritltthat of his horse, and who E • his mile was Zadock Barber, to l : the as -• ishmen of all, intimated a wish te, enter his horse w i ith the rest. .1 "Yohorse!" exclaimed I---"iwhat, that sleepy ca king devil there 1 You'd better en terr him 'tor the turkey bunrards." : . , "N i o u t as you knows on, mbster,f resumed Vj - - the Yinikee, leith some show of spirit. ,"To be surel,the critter looks rather sleepy as he stands, hnd on that account I him Sleepy David,i.but be's a jo-fi'd smart hoise fiir all that. pe's like a singed cat, a domed sight better or he looks. I should like', urination well toitry him against some of your South Carolina bosses. To be sure I don :t come all the waitron] home on purpose, but as.l was coming! out this way with a load of tin and other n` tioni, I thought I might tinge it so as to kill wo birds with one stone, fiv, thinks I to my It, if I can win the purse and peddle ji - .) off my notions at the same time, I shall make a plagt ey good ' spec.' But I bad to hurry on like the nation to git, here,ia.sesSon •' and that's one reason that, my hots looks soshab by and out of fi x this morning. • But for all that h ll perform like day's work, I But you." t Sup Supposing he had no idea of running his horse, d 'that all be said S•as merely to grat ify hispropensity for talking, I, ba4e him be gone, d not trouble me with bie d---d Yank palaver. _ • • ,- ' ".% y, mister," said be, " this liti.a free county , and a man bai a right to talk or let it alo e ji lt as he can atToid. Nolir I've ta ken a Ideal of pains to git here this tr.orn ing inLorder, In run Sleepy David against some igyonr southern time& I joking, sir,: In airnest, I. underi4ul there is a puns) ' two thousand doll" a$ I should like A t '-sly to pick it up. .: "Yi talk of picking, up &puree of t,wo dollars with that : bitnof carrion . of Away with you, aud..don't trouble Anther.", - - ''' •• '. . • 'ell, if I can't nut, -I suppose I l eett, but tied hard any bow for a mar? vis take. 1 pains as I have tocome tit :aces, =net be allowed Wraps. . an." , ,„ , , 3 Si , t►.. yoors. Wk. in I 114, DAY, MAY 7, 1857. "It's. too late now ; by the rules of the course the horse should have been entered yesterday ; however, if you'll plank the en trance money, perhaps you may get in yet." I said (his by way of getting rid of the fel low, having no idea that he could command a fourth patt of the sum required. " Bow much might the entrance money be I" drawing out a purse containing a few shillings in silver and a few pence in copper. "If it aint more'n a quarter of a dollar or so, I'll plank it on - the " It is two hundred dollars." ' "Two hundred !" exclaimed the Yankee.— "By gauley, what a price I Why, they axed mu only twenty-five cents to see the Elephant andthe hull Caravan in New York. Two hundred dollars! Why, you must be joking now—Bless . me! my hull load of tin ware, boss, wagon and all, wouldn't fetch that. But; mister, - don't you think I could git in for teti dollars" "Nothing short of two hundred, and that - must be paid in.five minutes." • . We now thought we had fairly got rid of the fellow ; 'hut he returned to the charge 'and asked if fifty dollars Wouldn't do, then seven ty, then a hundred, and finding he could not make a bargain for less- than the regular sun, he engaged to give it . provided he eouldvfind any one to loat him the money, for which he. offered' to pawn his wagon load of notions and Sleepy David to boot. He asked one, then another to accommodate him with a loan— deelaritig that as soon as ever he took the purse the money should be returned, and he would give a dozen tin whistles into the bar, gain: Ile however- ot more, curses than cop. pers, until some wag who had plenty of cash and liked to see the sport go on, lent him the two hundred dollars out of'sheer malice.— Though, as it afterwards turned out, tho Yan kee had plenty of money about him, and was merely playin g " possum " all the while. His next - .obect was te.borrow a saddle.— In this he was also accommodated ; and taking Sleepy David from the tin cart, he scrambled upon-his back; and took his station on the course. You never saw a fellow sit 011 a horse so awkward in your life., Every one said he would fall befote hehad gone a htmdredlards some'out of compassion urged him to - withdraw. "Not by a darned sight," exclaimed he.— "Do you think I'm such a-darned fool as to pay two hundred dollars, and then withdraW and not run- arter all ?" • Others, who wanted to see the sport, though it should cost some broken bones, encouraged him to proceed, saying,,wi they laughed aloud, that they had no doubt but he would carry off the purse. "That's what I mean to-do," said he: "1 hain't come here for noihiag, I can tell you. Wake up, Sleepy David, and look about you; you must have yOur eyes open to-day, it's no time to he snoozin' when there'll; money at stake." The horse, as if he understood Cvhat his master was saying, pricked up his ears, and actually began to show signs of life. The signal was now' given. to start. Away sprang Southron, with the speed of lightning, and away sprang the- other Southern horses, leaving Sleepy David far in the rear and the peddler verging from side to side, as if he was just ready to fall off. The horse went pawing along, with his tail clinging to his haunches, and his nose stuck out straight be fore him ; and you never beheld so queer a figure cut by any man and horse as this sin gular pair'at that. time presented. But they improved as they proceeded; the peddler sat more jockey-like, and' the horse evidently gained upon the- others. But it would not do.. came in at least half a mile behind Southron, and but a little lead behind the'othem- was now thought the Yankee had enough of the nice, and would. withdraw before the next heat, Contrary to all expectation, how ever, he persevered and offered to bet a thou sand dollars on the issue of the race. ‘s The fellow's a fool," said one. " He don't know which side of his bread is buttered, or else he wouldn't risk any more money on o desperate a stake." " He is safe enougtk there," said a third "for he has no more to risk." Here, howeier, all were mistaken again, for the peddler hauled out an old, greasy ;pocket-book and plarked - the, thousand dol lars. It was covered, oreourse, But I con fess I now began to be staggered, and to sus pect the Yankee was after all more rogue than fool. 1 had no fears however, for the purse. Southroo was not a horse to be distanced in one day, and especially - by such &miserable devil as Sleepy David. The second heat was now commenced, and if I had before felt confident in the entire su periority of my noble Southron, that confi dence was strengthened as 1-again saw him coming in ahead of the rest. I considered the purse as now my own property. In imagina tion I had grasped it, and was about putting it safely in my pocket, when—lo t and be hold! the peddlers horse which was behind all the rest., suddenly shot forward as if the devil had kicked him, and, stretching his hesd like a crane, won the beet by a head! ' Eveiybody was astonished. '"That horse must be the devil himself," said 'one. Ai least he has the devil to back him," said an other. "I was sure he would play some Yan kee trick before be got. through , said a third. Such were the - observations that passed from mouth to mouth.. The Yankee, in the' meantime, offered to takennOther thousand dollar bet; but nobody felt disposed to bet, with him, and it was well that they didn't, for at 'the third heat Sleepy David pot only distanced every horse, but even came in a full quarter of a mile ahead of Southron himself. "There, by gnuley," said the Yankee, as he dismounted, " I'll take that ere leetle purse,if von lease, and the other cool thousand tew ! I knowed well cheugh that your Southern bosses couldn't hold a candle tew old Sleepy David." " Ven you arrive to the dignity of sawlu' wood, Laffyette, if you is ever elewa ted to that etre profession, wind and saw the biggest sticks lust, cue vy, - you'll only her the little ones to saw when you get , tuckered out. Yen you este pie, as I.'opes you'll live to he is snan,,,st the crust fttst, nos the crust slot a good thing to crop off with, 'specially if it is tough sod thick. Yen you piles up wood, always _pile the big ones to the but .Uffyette, eat its mightyllard crania) ,to 'ern to the top of the pile. These are the results, of hobservation Listly• ette, and way be depended .on, and its your good that I say H. H. FRAZIEIi, PUBLISHER- VOT : i 8 .PARODY PARODIED. . Soma fair writer thus retaliates on the parodist, whose production we published last week.. Both sides roust be heard, and we‘give the lady a chance: Tell me ye winged winds; • That round my pathway roar, Do ye not know some spot, Where bachelors come no morn... Some lone and pleasant dell Where no moustache is seen— Where long-eared dandies never come ' Ourselves and fnn betireen There came a Murmur from the distant lee—. A low, sad tone, which whisper'd, ‘No-siree.. . Tell me. thou misty deep, Whose 'billows nd me play, • • Kno s'st tho• .me favored snot, Some islan , far away, Where weary girls may find A rest from nott dough !Ices, • And hear themselves called women,' Nor likened to the graces? Soon did the misty deep it' answer give, By murmuring, ' Not *hile brandy smashes live' • And thou, serenest moon, What language dolt thou utter, While gazirg on the GENTLEMAN Whose head is in the gutter? Say, last thou in thy round _ Gazed on some favored spot, Where hats know not the weight of bricks, And where scgars are not? Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe; ' .• But in Italics answered, 'No, no, no !' • Tell me, my secret fiord— • • Oh! tell me Hope and Faith, Is there no resting place From fops, and be aus, and death? Is there no happy spot, Where womankind are blest— • Where man thay never come, - And where the girls may rest? Faith, Truth and Rope—best boons to mortals given, Waved their bright wings, and whhcpered—s Yes, is Hearers f ' Front the Lancaster Efaminer and Herald. . A Northern Man's Impressions of the lionth. One who has never been South, and whose notions and opinions are formed entirely from books and hearsay, would have his ideas con siderably changed by a tour, however brief, through the.scaboard slave States. So mu& is-said about the slaves and their masters, the sugar plantations, cotton 'fields and rice swamps, that a large majority forgot - all about the country itself. having had ooea- Mon to pass through some of these States a few week's ago, a few observations concerning them may not prove uninteresting to Lances ter county men, particularly as of late years considerable emigration has been going; on in. that direetion,-ehiefly, however, to Maryland and Virginia. The reason why ennsylvanians have not found their way further down/still, becomes as clear as 'daylight, When one hisi onee',had a glimpse of the country. - Maryland and Virginia are two quite re spectable States in an agricultural point of view:- True, much of the soil, through the mismanagement and carelessness 'of the na tive farmers, has become unproducti vtind is " worn out," but by northern farming and northern energy, can again' be made produc tive to an extent that Will pay the farmer handsomely, for his labor; but thisis net the =case with those States lying still further smith. Such as have traveled through the above mentioned Stats, must have remarked the large amount of rocky and swampy land, which it is very probable will never be ren dered productive, the soil bait , poor in the, fist place, and t h e expense of;edaiming in the second being so great as to prevent all idea of its beineattempted. Things became ten times worse as soon as you get out of Virginia into North Carolina, which, is the poorest and meanest State agriculturally in the Union, South Carolina excepted, which is this respect- bears off the palm from every country in the world. • Viriinia,from having been the mother of , Presidents and statesmen, has condescended to be thetnother of negroes, and the result on her prosperity is only too apparent. The wretched dwellings of the white populatio'n, ' and the still more miserable cabins of -the, slaves, speak even louder , than Governor Wise himself,, of her miserable vondition.— ' An almost-endless succession of stunted pines lines the railroad from one end of the State to tbaolher. A tew other species of decidu-' ousTtrees are sometimes seen, but it is very rarely that the oak or the hickory is found. Nor! Carolina is better . oil' in her pine for est.% ni here the trees grow tosan immense ' size, and form one - of the chief sources of wealth to the people. So far as other timber is cencerried she is quite as badly oft as' ginia. The country, too, is more uneven, and the &At seems much inferior, and in fact; from this point down to New. Orleans, the soil has an appearance that would be very uninviting to, a Lancaster county farmer t - resembling very much the red: . sandy appeJyanee of, that portion of Lancaster knoWn as Muddy Creek, but still less productive. - There is not so much cotton raisekin North Carolina as 1 supposed:` The pine . forests which cover almost the e,ntirecountry,furniih quite as reliable a source of wealth; and with much less trouble. 1 here witnessed the man, ner of making,min,turpentine ,and tar. An inchion is made in the tree with an axe, about a font from the ground, and a strip dl' the bark about three feet long is then taken off above the cut and extending down to it.— The cut is shallow and it catches the liquid as it oozes out of the tree. The rosin is me creted in that portion of the tree from which the bark has been taken. Each year the. hark is taken off a foot or two higher up thin the previous year, and` this.practice is contin ued until the tree died, which' is in about six or eight years; afterwards the tree is cut down, and then burnt to a conical shaped kiln, from which the tar is produced.,. The amount of min made in - Northearolins ie astonishing. t'snw thousands of barrels ly ing along the road, waiting to he sent to mar ket. Much is also mode• in South Carolina. One that has never seen a southern swamp; cannot have the slightest idea of what it is. The season in which 1 BA them, being win. ter, there was of course, no vegetation, and my chances of observing:i.hern,,all the better. The greund is covered with water, fromaix inches .to two foot deep,, and out of these minks, rise enormous trees,, mealy Ones. A moat singular rewire in them:areas*. Is, that two.or three feet from the 'waterlthe trunk Suddenly enlarges to three arlour 'Mina hi usual girth; till!" suppose, arises tam the li g iv yielding 111100 .01 the SOU, Whiell den. it necessary .k.r .dus tree to hare aurlder endenusequetitly slater base for Its rent .4 - Tba aspect' of these swamps Is ofteathaes very pecaltim Tbrimigh the trtmlisAf 'the' trectf-you can see for'hundred'Ulards; noth. ing bat the shining water, at :this: season of the year, unrelieved by animal,lifc of air kind. • During the summer`; ontlw, hew._ . ever they are the abode Of alniiWtreveriiipe- - ties of 'vermin: - Thek accieititValtiotUrtbe sickness that prevails in sonianyPariihrthe .South, dieing the warm - sveatiper. -Seine. times. these marihes' extend alinest Without '' hiterruption,-fer'a hundrea n lniles: a person _ begin s to think the Smith is nettg -more dor ' less thin one interminablnbog, ma he is nqt very wrong. -- ' , I n` '_ . ,,L,7 - To'one who has - been accutoinisi to' se e Conestoga teams all _his life, sot them loses and southern teams 'present a t Very litrieig • contrast.. The bone' yard wcul ' be; ileemed the fittest place for nearly ever' horael saw after I left. Washington. A twice veretthei, . abject lot of beasts can be fim a d no.wlsere, - unless it be , in Italy, wilieti t ey say heats' . :in the world fin. sorry horses a d "mules. Oxen-are more used , in the Sou than Noises, for the reason,+presurne, that hey kept_.. with with less expetaie. I am. 'confi ant, Six good - 1 horses would eat up the entire pioduce of , 1 many of the -plantations i saw 4 oxen there; 1 fore are preferable, both as a matter of ecint• omy and policy. • Nothing' snrprised me , more, than the small number or horned cats c tie, and livestock generally, kept-on south- ' ern farms. Two or three coheirs; is many hoes, a couple of goats, hair At dozen barn fowls, and a few yoke of oxe r floionstituted - the planters property—his neg pea excepted: In the Matter of barns„ they are entirely - destitute. Ido mot remeinber, of having seen a single barn after leaving Richmond: - The extreme meagreness of Southern crops, renders outbuildings entirely tiniteceawry to the planter. He would not know what to do with it, if'. he possessed one{{ A rieketty shed, a dozen feet long, adawers every pur pose, and costs nothing. I as* immense corn-fields 'in all, the States down to IA& Wane, but not a _grain of cern. r meta imagine-what.becomes of ,it,,unlesi 'Wed fir the support of their iiegroes. i . l l judge (roe"' the appearance of the stalk; t 1 such ears of ' corn as we see in Lancaster county are alto- gather- unknown. ' They, plant' their cent la . we do, except' that they never put but one grain in a hill, it being found -hat one stalk. is quite as much as one hill -will grow. - '-' • A perceptible change for the better takes place in the.cluiracter of the tiountrS, as soon 'as yon get into Georgia. The Noll lei:4Bl*-U -ter ;- the cotton and corn fields show einem , vigorous growth. Alabam a 4- still better - ' than Georgia, and in someplafts the country' looks quite respectable. The swititipi stilt show themselve.4, however, a rid the 'entire State, if it has not.theinbinerti l ed look of the Caroinas, is yet flat, andniiinterestmg. It is anything elms than the place where a northern' man, though he conies froth among the rocks 1 1 of New - - Hampshire, would " .del3ire to film— : I am very confident that Were twenty-five I Lancaster county farmers tellocate in any ' southern state, south of Virginia, befbiP tisi close of the &Alia. - twentylfeur of them would have found their way home again, and no one would blame them. 1 hold it almost impossible for a northern man tOfeet at hiiirti4 - _ or even to become reconciled idthe rewind of a southern plantation, and tbe fernier who' makes, up his mind to try-hls figure in, the south, would better consider ;the' step he Is ° about to take. I shOuld ;Ulnae every man with such intentiona, to ge any' where, rather , than here. Ile can't! farm here with the Um ited •means- - he' could `in one. Of - the : vrilittern States ; everything is high, from beitad - tip its niggers. I heard_ a man say yesterday, be , could not ; buy a OA field - hand in , his part of the State, fee less than fifteen hundred dot.; Nzw Chiuskst 1857: . - /4;ose tke Abseeiteth Gratitaiatti'etet Capture of priknunittai . . i On Thursday last, the law mat:, the - 104v.- , itanti of St; Anu,s Bay were thrown into ii state of considerable excitement by. the are*. val of a schooner-evidently:inerican4owet _ into pdo by her majesty's brig Arab.' li . waa a soon ascertained that the schooner was al& veri-and that she had on , ~ • a largi aunt: her of captives.' It appears -, the Own* * of the Arab had received duff mation that ei bark and schooner were. ca , - ... in. Cubs from the coast of - Africa wii ir a minx of slaves. A 'strict watch - was therefore kept, and on Monday, the 13th ins f., asuspicioaa lookiog Craft was seen with ii full preastof 'sail, making the best of her way to her des: tined port. She was closely persued, and the _Captain finding that there was: no possibility esi ofescaping from the Arab, d rted her,taking ere , m with him in a shallop his oney, chro- nometer and other useial arti ea, Thelma': mender of. the. Arab dispatched his gunboat, with fifteen men, under the eammand of his First Lieutenant, with orders or the capture •, • of the shallop. The chase con 'nued kir-neip ly three hours, and a shotbas ing the rudder of a shallop, the _p_taiu,.wile was owner of the slaver, surrendered. Two of his principal slaves and .. an ypreter were taken from the sha ll oP, and - th e crew, wins t deft in it to 'make the best - their way to - Cuba. ' : - . - ': 1 The --first 4 litutenant then boarded _the . schooner, and found her filled with young Aif" titans, males and females,. : tw i the number or, 373, no less - than '127:--havin g fallen violins to the horrors of a middle:pilaw daring a voyage of 01 days. The, poor captives wets in a - wretched condition—all of them were . naked and the greater part seemed.to be halt - starved.. They were packed cicrely together ; and covered . with - dirt - and vermin, On the arrival of the schooner in & Ain's Bay, limr: . end gentlemen- went on, board, and their qui. pathtes were excited at the misery they wit, nessed. Messrs. Bravo & BOther suggested measures .which were adtpted, and, With-their usnatfliberality, orderoda" steer to - be killed, and 'Soup prepared for "thelsafferers ; -other gentlemen furnished ground pro y islons,bread, ~ &c. and while' the fool ' was , . ng prepared,' WS whole of the human ea . o was : broinght upon deck and 'Washed, and . - Ulrike* gtv 7 . en to them until' clothing ..-;- , lie 414•0011144: Thirty 'Of them 'Wiwi* II fa)? ,' atate, - hat thw most humane attentkafwas . . to them; nod Up to the - timewlfisiole , ; ~ ant `-left- tit; Ann's Bay theterefst-all tdbfe,and expected , to do well. -' ,,, Tlie - Sim ''' aftrlet-Riipia:Cia. 1 . toe-of sent aft, ytit - , lasitt tier* a die the hie - Ea ' y: the Lietitat the SO - 7 r llC 4 . l., S( P idnlin t: 01- 'Oh -0 1 eireentataneo connected :Sin "theecipturi4 Sod Onpietitilig--"to be infbiiii4 _hem thieciP tiveeshould be handed ' ()Veit o.proprietoritof '- estates who, .. were Miticfci=i i , PVCP re " th,eY w rrcen: - - •, .‘ • , - - ttu) ciuptain of the schooner refiiged to give name or the name of (bit vessel, bah *lke -- • " , 'N-0. 17'.
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