MI
I=
READ & H. H. FRAZIERbED.I.TORS
, Pima Harper's Weekly..
NOTHING TO WEAR.
.10: Erisona or CITY LUPE
•
IMIF;;IFLORA Men : Ja:3E; of Madison SqUare,
Ila.s made thtee separate journeyslto Parka,
Anithcr father assures me each tirne'she was there
That she and her friend. Mrs. Harris
(NMI the lady whose isame is so famous is history, •
Rut 'plain Mrs. 11., without romsnee.pr mystery,)
Spent six consecutive vieeki without stopping,
one cmtinuotts round of shopping;
Shopping alone and shopping togetper, •.
At all hours of the'day and in all sorts Of weather,
For pll manner of things that a woman mut put
On the crown of her head or the sole of her foot,
Or Wrap round her f.houlders or fit round her waist,
Or that can be sewed on or pinned'on or laced, -
Or tied on ult.; a string or stitched 'on with a bow,
I n f ron t Or b e hind, above or below ;:,
For hozinets, mantillas, capes, collars, and shawls,
'Presses fur breakfasn3, and dinners, and balls;
Dresres and stansi in, and walk in;
Dresses to ii,nce in, and flirt in,- and: talk in;
Dresi33.%4 in which to do nothing
Dresses for wititt.r, Sprillp, summer, and :
AU of them diffemnt in 7 eolor and pattern,
:Silk, muslin and lace, crape, velvet, and satin;
Pro6lide and broadcloth, and other material
Quite as expensive and mach more ethereal ; • •
In st ort, for all things that Could ever be thought of,
Or millit.er, modeste, or tradesman be bought of,
From, ten-thonsand-frapc robes to twenty-sous frills;
In all quaoter, Or Paris, and to every,store,
While Stellinisey in vain stormed, scolded and swore;
- They l footed the streets and he footed the bills.. •
The last oil, their goods, shipped by' stetuner Arago,
Foruied, Mell'onsey declares, the bulk of her cargo;
Not to Mention a quantity kept from the rest,
s u tti,iient to fill the largest-sized chest,
\Vhitili did not appear on the ship's Manifest,
But for which the ladies themselves inalifested
Such , particular interest that they invested
Their own. proper persons in lavers and rows.
Of muslin:, embroideries, worked untlei ,,, loth es,.
Gloves, Mina emit iefs, scarfs, and suclitrides as those;
Them writ pped in great shawls,like Circassian beauties,
t;art; griod-hy to the ship and go-by to the duties.
lier relation- .itt home all taraill - elleti, ho doubt, .
FlQra had grown so enormously — stout
For atrne: nal belle arMa•pOssible„.britle
t . But • the miracle cmsed ;rhea She eurned inside out,
I~Aud the truth came tOlight,artd the dry goods beside;
- Which, in spite of collector - and the custom-hcitise
i=entiy, . .
Had entered the port .without any entry
And yet, though scarce three mouths have passed
since the day
The merchandise went, on twelve cuts up Broadway,
This semi, Miss Mellintv, of Madison Square,
The last time we met; was in utter despair
Iteeause ,he had nothing whatever' to wear!
Noi - mNG To wiAtt! - Now, as this is'a true ditty, .
1 do not ase..t—this,
you know, is between us- 7
That sha's i , l ' a.state of absolute nuditt, •
Like Power's Greek Slave or the Medici Venus:
But I dthmean to say, I have heard her declare,
When. Lt the 51mt: moment, she had on a dress -
Which cost five hundred dollars, and•not a cent less,
Arid jo% el ry worth ten times more, I should guess,
That she had not a thing in the wide world to !rear!
• •
I Mention just here that nut of Miss Flora's
Two hultdred and fifty or sixty adorers,
had just 1.0•&u sideeted as he who should throw all
The rc"t lei the shade, by the gracious bestoWal
flu Th yself, niter twenty or thirty TleCtiOrtS, •
frytvsil remand. which she call d her affections,'
And that rather decayed, but well-known work of art,
Whi c h She, Mora persisted in Styling " her heart.'
;So we were. engaged. Our troth had been plighted,
• Not by moonbeam or starbea m, by fountain or grore,
Rut in a front parlor, most brilliantly lighted, •
Beneath the gas-fixtures we whispered . our lore.
,Without any romance, or raptures, or sighs,
Without any tears in Miss Flora's blue eyes,
Or blushes, or transports, or such sills actions,
It was one of the quietest busirccas transactions,
With a very small sprinkling oPentiment, if any,
And a very largeoliattiond imported br Tiffany.
On7her virginal lips whsle I printed a k iss, •
She etelninted in a sort of:parenthesis,
And way of putting me quite at my ease,
‘• Tint know I'm to polka as much as I please, /
And flirt when I like-4low stop, don't you spcak-
And vou must not come here more than twice hi the
Irea, • '
Or talk 10 me. either at party or ball,
flat alwac's,be reads to tome when I call;
don't peole to me about beauty and stuff, •
'lf wqttliTkreak this off; there will be time enough""
Forthat sort of thing,; but the bargain must be •
That, as long as I cliotese, I am perfectly free,
For this is a sort of engagement, yott:see, • -
Which is binding on you but not bidding on me."
Well, he's-ing thus wo9edllisa-McFlim, sey and gained
her,
With the silks,crinolitieicand hoops that contained her.
I had, as l thought,' a contingent remainder -•
At least in the property, and the best right
To appear as its egeort by day.and by night; •
And it being the week of the fircmtur's grand ball—
Their cards had been out a fortnight or so,
- And set' , all the Avenue on the tip-toe—
I tousid4d it only toy duty to Calk
And see if Miss Flora intended to, go.
I found her—as ladies are apt to be-found, •
When the time intervening between the 6ist sound
Of the hell and the vi'sitor ' s entry is Blurrier
Than usual—l found; I won't say-,-I 'caught her—
Intent on the pier -glass, undoubtedly meaning
.•
To see if perhaps it didn'tneed cleaning.
She turned Its I entered—" Why, Hairy, you sinner,
I thought that you went to the Flasher's to dinner!"
" so I did," I replied, " but the dinner is swallowed,
• And digested, I trust, fortis now nine or more,
•
So being relieved from that duty, I foliated
. Inclination, which led me, you see,;to your door.
And now win your ladyship so condescend '
As inforM me if you intend . . •
Your beauty, and graces, and presence to lend, -
All which, when boy a rs, I hope no one will borro*)
70 the Svt - rt:r.r's, whose party, ion know, is tomor-
• •
rot ?"
The fair Flora looked up with a pitiful air,
And fol , weretl quite promptly," Why flarry,mort cher,
1 should like above all things to go with you there ;
But :.ually and truly—l've nothing twwear."
, " N'othing• to wear I ro just as you are;
Wear the dreis you have on,•and •t:ou'll be by far,
•
.1 engage, the most bright and particular star,
. On thr. .`itue'sup horizon"—l stopped; for her eye,
'Scuu iti a:I1111 Ig this delicate onset of flattery, •
.opcue4l on me at once a most terrible battery
Of sem) and 'amazement. She maticato reply,
• But ~ trtive a slight turn to the end or her nose
;That pure GriKtiuu feature,) as much as to say;
How ahsurd that any sane man should suppose
11!,:t a lady would go to a ball in the ;clothes,
o ntattervt,ow line, that she wears every day?"
i•-• •
iLo Yeuturedligliin--" Wear vour crimson brocade,"
oi..eand turn up of n0..4!)--" - That's :too dark by a
shade::
ThaeS tyro heavy*:
That's too light."
LL Wear tulle over vaunt"—" I can't endure white.
" Your rose-colored, then, the best of the lista"—
I haven't a thread of point ktoe.itolnattelt." t
'• Your brown inoiev Yes, and. look. like
a Quaker ;".
" The fozarimolored"="l would, but that plaguey
dres6tinaker. :
IL,: had it a week"—" Then that exquisite lilac,
le wliivh :vim would melt the heart,ofa hibyloxk." •
Ltlier e th e Ims.e took again the acme elevation)
'L I wnuldn't wear that for the whole of creation?
Why not? lt's my fancy, there's nothing could
.atiiioLit
1,1 taut"— "Yes,
but„.',' dear me, that
11,411 .111
S4phrtial:i Stuckup has got one just like:it,
And I a Oat nfmear demised like a chit of eisteen."
"Their that splendid purple, that sweet Idizarine;
mmm-b /win/ d'aiguith • that imperial green,
,feat 7.,:phyrdike tarletoo, that si
:L seen . '"t one at all which iA,fit to be seen," - I
;he lady, ming'ezcitedeitmfaud llußhui
"'rho! wear," I exclaimed; in a tune *
et wthed
0 1;141-L . 1;4m, !! That. :gorgeous toilette 1
In I`nri> 14.4 t spring, at the - grand'prcsentat
1% hen pi t i quite turned the head- of the hea t
.oii br .dl the grand court were so
..;oers t ,l." •
L e /t/e
Iran
66 FREEDCRA aIkID ROOMIT anamacm gLaWffG2'7 aincl ZUROROO99
•
The end of the nose was portentously tipped up,
'And both the bright eyes shot forth indignation,
And she burst upon me With the fierce exclamation,
4' There worn it three times at the least calculation,
• And that and the most of my dresses are ripped up 1"
Here I ripped 43art, something, perhaps rather rash,
Quite innocent, though; but to use an expression
More striking than classic, It " settled my hash,"
And proved very soon the bit act of our session.
"Fiddlesticks, is it, Sir? I wonder the ceiling
Doesn't fall down and crush you—oh, you men hare
no feeling. , • -
You selfish, unnatural, illiberal creatures,
'Motet yourselves up as patterns and preachers.
Your silly pretense—why what's mere guess it is
Prey, what do you know of a woman's necessities?.
I have told you and shown youTre nothing to wear,
And it's perfectly plain you not only don't care,
But you do•not believe me" (here the nose went still
higher.)
"I supposed if you dared you Would call me a liar.
Our engagement is ended, sir--yes, on the spot;
You're a brute, and a monster, and—l dtineow
what."
I mildly suggested the words-.Jlottentot,
Pickpocket, and cannibal, Tartar, and thief,
As gentle expletives which might give relief ; ,
But this - only proved as spark to the powder,
Aid the storm I had raised came faster and louder,
It blewsnd it rained, thundered, lightened and hailed
Intetjections,verbs;pronouns, till language quite failed
To express the abusive, and 'then its arrears _
Were brought up all at once by a torrent of tears,
And my last faint,;despairing attempt at an obs-
Ervation was lost in a tempest of sobs.
Well, I felt for the lady, and felt for my hat, too,
Improlised nn the : crown'of the latter a tattoo,
In lien of expressing the feeliit--"s which lay
Quite too deep for,words„ as Wordsworth would say ;
Then, without going throtigh'the form of a boa - ,
Found myself iU th entry—l hardly knew how—
On door-step and sidewalk, pastlamp-post .ind square,
At home and up stairs, in my - own easy chair;
Poked my feet into slippers; my fire into blaze,
And said to Myself, as I lit my, cigar,
Supposing a nianl,hatl the wealth of the Czar
Of the Russiasi to boot, for the rest of his days,
On tini' whole, do you think he ,would have much to
spare • -
If he tart ied a Woman with nothing to wear?
t
Since that night, tiling pains that it should not be
britited. .. i '
~ r
Abroad in society,-I've instituted
A course of inquiry, "extensive and thorough,
On this vital subject, and find, tii my horror,
That the fair Flora's case is by no means surprising, ,
But that there exists the grettiest distress •
In our female cominunit3-, solel arising -
From this nnsup'died destitu on of drep,
Whose unfortunate ; victims are lling theair
With the pitiful wail of "N'othi g to - wear." . •
i
Researches in some of the " ryiper Ten" districts
Reveal the most reilriful and st*tbeg st a tistics,
Of which let me mention onlv -.4few :
In one, single house, on the kit Avenue,
Three young ladies were found,
.11 below twenty-two,
Who have been three whole vi - lks without anythiug
- • newi
, ' 1
In the way of tlouneed silks, an,,ltt
Are unable to go to ball, comer
In another large mansion near-
Was Tonnd a deplorable, heat
Of entire d e stitution of Bruss
In a neighboring block the wt
Total want, long continue , ofj
And a su ff ering felony., hose
d /t
The most pressing nee of rent
One deserving young4ady, alto i
To survive-_for - IF-iiirra...et•a rie ,
confiued tit the ho
Than usual, her shawl
Still another, w ose tortures
Ever since ill sad ' loss of the f
In which we .engulfed, not 14
(For a hose/rite she perhaps nil
solatioe, -t.:.
Or berne'it,- at least , with sere e resignation)
But the choicest assortment o ,French sleeves and
collars - -
~-
-Eve/ sent out from Paris, worth thousands of dollars,
And
,all as to 'style most rrcher' he and-rare,
The want of which leaves herith nothing to wear.
.And renders her life so drear a - II dyspeptic,
.That she's quite. a veclase,•an lmost a skeptic,
For she touchingly says that .'s sort of grief
Can not find in Religion the a . htest relict,
And Philosophy has not ain im to spare
For the victims of such overw )ming despair..
But the saddest be farofall di e sad features ~
i t
To the cruelty practiced upon t ' e poor creatures
By husbands and fathers, real t luebeards and rations,
Who r e sist the most touching tryseals made for dia
monds -- ' •
By their wives and their daug Iters, and leave them
for days
.Thisupplied with new jewehy, ~. us or boquets.
Even . laugh at their miseries w ,encicr they have a
chance,
And deride their demands as e.'• liss extravagance;
One case of a bride. was broug to my view,
Too sad for belief, hut alas! 't is too true
Whose husband refused, an *a ~'ge as Charon,
To permit her to take more ' ten trunks to Sharon.
The consequence was, that, w . .... idle got there,
Ai the - end of three weeks she - ' nothing to wear,
And when she proposed to ith the season
At Newport, the monster re ' ' out and out, -
For his infamous conduct 1 giCg no reason,
Except that the waters were gold for his gout ;
Such treatment as this was tocOhocking, of course,
And proceedings are now goinon for divorce.
But why why harrow the Feelings by : Biting the curtain
From these scenes of woe ? ineugh, it is certain
Has here been disclosed to stirriap the pity
Of every benevolent heart.in the city,
.
And spur up humanity into ac _ ter
To rush and reliet:e these' sad seises instanter.
,
Won't sornehod,y, Moved by thiS tonchmg description,
Come forward to-morrow stud head a subscription?
Won't some kind philanthropist; seeing that aid is
So needed at once by these indigent ladies,
Take charge of the matter? or on't PETEL: Coorill
The corner-stone lay of some lendid super- .
Structure, like that which t
'U V links his name
0 4
In the 'Union unending of ho ; and fame; -
And found a new charity just r the care
Of these unhappy-women with, nothing to wear,
Which, in view of the' cash Which would daily be
claimed, • V
•The Latrieg-out hospital welitnigla be named!
Won't S-rewar.r, or some of Que : dry-goods importers,
Take awsontract fur clothing our : at - it-es and our daugh
ter.t
Or, to furnish.the cash to supply 'these distresses,
And life's pathway strew with shawls, collars, and
dresses, - s. -
Ere the want of them makes it much rougher and
thornier, .
Won't some one discover a new California?
Oh ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day
Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,
From its whirl mid its bustle, its fashion and pride,
And the tewplea of Trade which tower on each side,
To the alleys and lanes, wherellisforttme and Guilt
Their children have gathered, their city hare built;
Where Hunger and•Fice, like twin beasts of prey,
Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair;
Raise the rich,dainty dress,and the fine broidered skirt
Fick your aelicati was through the dampness and dirt,
Grope 'through the dark dens, climb the rickety
stair,
To the garret, where wretches, the young and the old,
Half-starved and hall-naked, lie crouched from the
" Your pink,"
cold.. _ - •
See those skeleton limbs, those frost-bitten feet.
All' bleeding and: bruised by the dimes of the Street ;
Hear the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groans that
- swell
From the poor dying creature who writhes on the
Boor,
Hear the curses that sound like the echoes of Hell,
its you sicken and shudder and fly from the door;
Then home to your wardrobe*, and say, if you :We—
Spoiled children of Fashion—you've nothing to wear!
And oh, if perchance there should be a sphere,
Where all is made right which 'so purtles us here,
Where the glare, and the glitter, and tinsel drupe
Fade .and die in the light of that region sublime,
:Where the soul, disenchanted. Of flesh and.of sense,
Unscreened by ha trappings, and shows, and pretense,
Must be clothed for the life and the service above,
With purity, truth, faith, meekness and love;
h quite
hich you
Oh, daughters of Earth! foolish virgins, beware!
Lest in'that upper realm you hare nothing to wear!
on, [tion ,
of the na-
A FRES. fIiaILULALTIOI4—.-" Mg transit giorie mop
."' Thank goodness, washing day is over!
CO=
4 1t s left in the lurch
or church.
;be same place
.1 • uding case
'-joint lace.
•
. found, in three calls.
- tels'-hair shawl:4 ;
'itnke cahibits
iermine tippet.; ,
nn »lc.
R, n gable; •
'hen •ts 'windier
n't India, •
e been Moat terrific
" . •amer Porife,
end or relation,
iht hart found con-
MONTROSE
.: Who Wrote "Nothing to We,arl"
An article relating to the authorship if
the poem " Nothing to Wear," having a -
peered in the Courier and Enquirer, giVin l l .
circulation to a report " prevalent in privy
circles," and based. ".upon authority in ever
ni
respect reliable," tat the authorship is
.clai -
ed by a young lady, and that her paren
corroborate the claim, and account fur i
publication, "by the fact that she lost th 6
manuscript, and was surprised to see it i
print With'additions and alterations," Wit -
iam Allen Butler, Esq., has a le
ter 4'the Courier, in which he says :
a rhave not hitherto avowed the autho -
ship of this poem, bUt when an allusion tom -
name is coupled with 4.charge of .stealing
the literary productions of a girl `not out
of her teens, 'and permitting their publicatio
as my own, and when currency is given t •
such a report in the columns of a - respect -
ble journal, 1 feel called upon to state pu i.
licly and witliont,delay that it is entirely u -
true. - The poem in question was written b •
me during intervals of leisure running
thr '
several months, and ',whatever may be i':
merit or want of merit :as a literary work,
is exclusively my own; no line or tHoughtil
it having been suggested to me by, or dp i
rived by Inc from any other person or soure(
and any assertion to the. contrary is entire!
false."
Rev. Isaac Peck, an Episcopal clergyman
of New 'York, claims the authorship of par
of the poem for his daughter, in the follow
ing letter to the Evehing Post, written afte •
the appearance of Mr. Butler's card:
GENTLEMEN : The statement copied b: i
you on Saturday,Trotit the Courier and . .EaL
quirer, - contains some errors, whichMav bt
most 011•etually eorrettml by. a story. of fact
such as I first teeeiyea them. The statemen
originally male by me was as follows : Q .
My. daughter, about a year ago,' in a rain
ble through the woOds near the house - where
I reside, accidentally tore the skirt of her
.dress : This incident caused her to exclaim
with perhaps some vexation, "There, no',
I've nothing to wear!" and this exclaMatior
was succeeded by the reflection, " llow many
arc in the habit of declaring they have• . - noth•
in g to wear, who really have no just rease
for the complaint; while., on the other -hand
multitudes might.inake the same complain
with truth as well as sorrow !" Being In tit
habit of composing almost daily, in .prose
in verse, she •composed and wrote down, otl
her return home, the following fragment: •
To the alleys and dens of misfortune and
_crime !
• Raise th*C rich dainty dresses,.and careful essay
Up• the long-worn and rickety staircase to climb:
Through the dampness and dirt make your delicat ,
Hear the - sharp cry of childhood, the groans that - re
' sound
From the poor dying creature who writhes on th
floor ;
The oaths that profuse like . hiblPs - echoes abound,.
And the prayers which the starving pour • supplian
round
For the land whe - re the famished shall hunger n!
more. •
• lu a day or two she :altered and entargt
these lines as ftpllows:
Oh, ladies, dear ladies the next sunny day,
Just trundle your hoops quite out of - Broadway, •
To the alleys and lanes where misfortune and guilt,
Their child - run have gathered, their-city have built;
Raise the rich dainty dress and theline broidered ski ;
Pick your delicate way, through the dampness* an
dirt,
To the garret where wretchek the young with the of
Bah starved and half naked lie crouched from the col
Mark those skeleton limbs and those half-frozen fee
All bleeding and cut by the stones of the street. •
Hear the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groan
that swell .' • ~1
1
From the poor dying creature that writhes on di'.
floor;
Hear the curses that sound like the echoes- of hell, 1
As you sicken and shudder and fly from the door.
Then—home to your wardrobe and say if you dare,
Spoiled children of failion you've nothing to' wear
And,Oh ! if perchance there shouldsoon come a *The+
Where all is wade right that so puzzles us here;
Where we, disenchanted of 11&11 and of sense,
Unveiled by the trappings of aho*, and pretence,
Must be clothed for the life and the service. above,
With purity, innocence, faith, truth and foie;
Then, daughters of earth fooLh virgins, beware
Lest in that upper realm you have nothing to wear
' In the course of a week or two after
above 11%118 written, she composed—what a•
intended as the beginning of her poem—
following six lines:—
Miss Flom M'Flimsey, of Madison .square,
Made three separate journeys , to Paris
And, her father assures me, each time shoe was the
That she and her friend, Mrs. Harris,
Spent six consecutive weeks without stopping,
In one continual mund of shopping.
i -
These three fragments, the first consisting
of nine, the second of twenty-fbur, and the
third of six lines, were written by her on the
same :sect of paper, and subsequently
brought with her on a visit:to this city. Sh
had the manuscript in her hand on leavi g
the cars near Twenty-sixth street, and in pa •
ing through the crowd it was dropped an
lost
. Yours respectfully; ISAAC PECS.
, New York, July 27th, 1657. .
The lines hi the published- poem whi
most resemble those given in ?Ai / Peek's l•
ter, are the fidlowing:— • - •
Hiss Flora meprim qcT, of Madison square,
Has made three separate journeys to ]'4114.5,
And her father assnres "me, each time she *as the
That she and her friend, lint. -
(Nut th e ta t ty whose name it so famous in history,
• Baseplain. Mrs. 11., rithourTtiiiattrc or mystery,)
Spent six consecutive weeks without stopping,
.11] one continuous round of shopping. -
•
e
Oh, ladies, dear ladieg, the next sunny
}'leave trundle your hoops jgst out of Broadvray,
From its t•liirl and its buAtte, its fashion andpride,
Awl the trpnrirs of trade Trh.irli tuner en each side, l .
To the alleys and canes where Misfortune and Guilt
Their children have gathered, their city hare built
Where Hunger and Vise, like twin beasts of prey,
Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair;
Raise the rich dainty dress and the 'fine broidered skirt;
Pick your delicate way through the dampness and Bert;
Grope through the dark dens, climb the rickety Odin
To the garret where wretches, the young and the old,
R a lf s t arve d a nd half naked,lie crouched from the cild.
See those skeleton limbs, those frost-bitten fret,
All bleeding and bruised by the stones of the street;
Rev the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groans
that swell
From the poor, d} ins creature who writhes on ii
floor
Rear the curses that souud like the echoes of hel ,
As you sicken and shudder, and fly from the d. • .
Then, home to your Wardrobe, and say, if you dart,. •
Spoiled children of fashion, you've nothiag to wear.
And, ob if perchance, • there should he a- sphere.)
Where all is made right which so puzzles ua here,
Where the vices, and the glitter, walk"! of
Auie and die in the light of that region
Where the aim!, disenchanted, of Beth Ind of
Unsereenest by its trappings and shows- and p
Must be clothed for the life and the servige abOvit
With purity, truth, faith, ineeknear and love.
OA! daughters of earth, %ail:. virgins beware
Lest in that upper realm yolk have nothing to wear 1.
off, :and 111 tell you the whole affair after.—
. I promin you that not one studl even receive
if they 'will foliow my di.
,
egr Win' are good busbands like flou^,11? li' omen a scratch , that is,
(k) nead thew. ~.. . rections implicitly.'
, 1
THURSDAY, AUGUST 27, 1857.
TALE OP FRONTIER LIFE.
TIII OCTPOBT
TOWARDS the latter part of the year 1751,
the French, aided by vast bodies of the flu
ron and Iroquois Indians had begun to make
themselves very disagreeable neighbors to
the British and American oolonistsin northern
Virginia, Ohio, and the northwest portions of
New -York Statthe French by their en
=hmeats on the frontier, and the Indians
eir numeroits forays, and savage bar
barity to all who were unfortunate enough to
fall into their hands.
To put a stop to these aggressive proceed
ings, numerous bodies, both of regulars'
and the colonial militia, were dispatched.to
the several points • assailed, and amongst the
rest, a Col. Henry Innes, with a company of
th i rty men, among .them were a party of .
some dozen Virginia riflemen, was ordered
to occupy a small outpost, or log fort; which .
at this period stood within a few miles of the
north fork of-the Allegheny river. -
Having arrived safely at their quarters,
the little company ,set aboiif righting up the
old post to make it as comfortable as circum
stances would. permit; and this being dune
and order once inure restored, sentries were
placed at all the advanced points of the sta
tion- while the itrictest vigilance was both en
joined and exercised by day. and night'. •
Among the Virginia riflemen who had vol
unteered. into the company, was a tall, manly,
.fine-looking young fellow, who, from his fatal
and unerring skill as i marksman bad receiv
ed the somewhat awe inspiring nom de plume
—l)eath. But with whatever jostle& this
rair.e had been applied , to him for his skill,
his disposition certainly - entitled him to no
such terror-si reading epithet. On the con
trary. he was the very life of the-company. '
His rich fund of mother wit, large social
•
propensities, and constant good nature, ren
d .!red him a ge.iteral favorite with the men ;
• while the never failing stock of
. game which
ir i s skill enabled : him. to,supply the mess tit,.
hie of the of fi cers with, not only recommend,
ed him to their good graces, but caused many
short-coming, of his to be winked over in
silence, which, otherwise, perhaps he might
not have got over so easily.
The .company had 'not been stationed at
the - fort =eh mere thana week, ere Peath,
in one Of his excursions for game, discovered
that at "a small farm house, some three or so "
miles.distant from the fort,' there lived a cer
tain 'Miss Hester Standhope,. whose equal in.
beauty and amiable qualities be had not - seen
before. And- to render himself - still more
certain of the fact,. he called the day follow.
ing,
under cover of the pretense of having'
left his powder-flask. .
Death was invited to come again, by Far
mer Standhope, who happened to be from,
. the same parish as the father of our':hero;
and we need scarcely say that the invitation
was accepted, and as often as circumstances
would 'permit, complied with.
The second week after this occurrence took
place, was marked by two • events, which,
though both affecting the welfare of the little
community at the fort, were of widely diffe
rent degrees of importance.
The first was, that Death had either sud- •
denly lost all his- skill - as a marksman, or,
. that the game had removed to a safer and
.more distant neighborhood, for the officers'
larder had been found sadly wanting in the
items of woodcocks, blackcocks, partmigan,
&C., for the week past-4ind the second and
most important of the two events, was, that
in regular succession, four sentinels •hta dis
appeared from the extreme left line, without
leaving the slightest trace to elucidate the
mystery of their disappearance.
-This. last circumstance struck such dread
into the breasts of the rest of the company,
that no - one could be found willing to volun
teer to take the post 7 -well knowing that it
would be only like ligniug their own death
warrant to do so; and Col. lanes, noVivish
ing to wilfully sacrifice the lives :of -his
. men.
by compelling them to go, enjoined double
caution to the remainder of the sentinels, and
left the fatal post unoccupied for a night or
two. - •
" Two or three reconnoitering parties had been
dispatched ofr runs the neighborhoo in the
hope of finding some due to the myltery, .or
obtaining some intelligence of the enemy,
but they had each of them returned as wise
as they started, with no reward for their
trouble saveweary bones.
It was on the third night of the desertion
of the post that our hero, Death, was return.
ing to the fort, after paying a visit to Stand-.
hope Farm :—The moon was uP, but her
light was nearly all obscured by the dense
mas3es of clouds which .every few minutes
were driven by a pretty stiff breeze over her
Lice, while the huge trees, now all in full leaf,
creaked and groaned, and their tall forms
swayed to and fro, as the heavy gusts. rush
ed whistling in among their branches.
Our hero had approached within a hundred
yards of the termination of the forest-that
skirted the small open space in r silhich the
fort stood, when suddenly he paused, and
crouching down on his hands and knees, cr,ept
cautiously forward a few paces. Having re
mained in.bis position fur several minutes, he
again stealthily retreated in the manlier he
had advanced • and plunging into the forest,
again emerged at a point considerably lower
than where he had intended to leave it be
fore.
Col. hoes sat reading, alone, in his private
apartment, when an orderly entered and
informed• him that one of the men wished to
speak to him. - .
`Send him in,' said the Colonel ; and at
the next minute our Gietid, Death, had 'en
tered, and made his best bow to his com
manding officer. •
' Well, what scrape have you been getting
into now? said the Colonel,whet. he saw who
hisArisitor was.
None, Colonel,' replied Death, but I have
, come to ask a favor.'
e `Let us hear it,' said the di:donel, and we
will then see whas we can dot'.' • •
Well, Colonel It is sliziplrtida—if yon
will put the • rifles' under my alders to-night,
and let . me occupy the deserted post, will
not only clear up the mystery of the disap
pearanoe of our four sentries, but make the
post tenable for the future.* • .
'But howl" said the Colonel, in intense
surprise.
'1 giiess, Colonel,' answered Death, ',you
had better let me have the men, and order us
'.You aro a strange man,' said . the Colonel,
but I think I will let you have your own
way this time. When do you intend to
start V
In about an hour's time,' answered Death.
' Very well, I will give the necessary or
ders, so that you can start *hen you think
proper. And what is more,if you will per
form all that is promised, and don't cause me
to repent having humored you, you shall have
poor Campbell's place: -
Hector Campbell was a brave but "very
headstrong young Scutchman who had occu
pied the post of Lieutenant at the fort. In a
sudden freak of daring he had volunteered to
stand. sentry 'at the fatal spot from which
three sentinels had already so mysteriously
disappeared,and he paid for his rashness with
his life.
'Now, my lads,' said Death, as in about
un hour after his , conversation with Cot In
nesl ho approached the deserted post ,- at the
head of a dozen riflemen who bad been tem
porarily placed under his orders, will tell
you what we arc going to do.. The long and
the short of the affair is simply this,' it's a
gang of them cussed, thievin' Iroquois that
have circumvented and-carried otT our four
men--:shooting them with their arrows, and
then decamping 'with their bodies. • .
To-night, as I was returning to the fort, I
suddenly thought I heard the sound of seve
ral voices and creeping on my hands, and •
knees towards the spot, got nigh enough to
see and hear about a dozen Iroquois were
there 'and arranging their plans-. to surprise
the fort to night—iniending to steal upon it,
by the point whiclko.their cussed devilry had
rendered so easy.Of access. I only stopped
long enough to learn this, when hurried oft
to the Colonel, and asked him to place you
at my disposal, and here we. are. I did r.ut
say a word to hits about what I had learned,
but determined that if possible . the 'rifles'
should have allthe honor of exterminating
the varlets. And now I ask you, are,you
willing and ready to follow my orders?'
Every man cheerfully answered in the af
firmative, and with qUickened pulses and
'sanguine hopes, the. little company aza;n
moved forward.
• The post consisted of a long, narrow: space,
bounded on each side by a rocky, shelving
bank ; while its extreme end was closed in
by the dark and impenetrable looking ft>rest.
The bank on each side of the pass-was thick
ly covered with .brush
. and underwoOd, and
among these .Denth now carefully concealed
his•men.; taking dire so to arrange them that
their fire would cross each other , and bidding
them cot to fire tiny. he gave the signal, and
after they had fired; not to stop forr reload,
but clubbing - their rifles, to jump down and
finish the struggle in that manner.
With steady alacrity each man took. up
the post 'assigned him; and in . another .min
ute; the spot
. presented the same lone, still
and solemn appearance it had worn - previous
to their arrival.
The little company had begun to grow
Very impatient, and Death, himself, to fear
that the Indians had either rued of making
the attempt, or else had changed their plan
of attack, when suddenly his quick eye de
tected the form of one of his crafty foes is
suing in a crouching position from the deep
shadow which the lofty trees. threw far up
the pass.
Three—six—nine—tivelve—thirtem,' counted
Death, as one after another they emerged in
single file from the wood, and with quick
catlike stealithness of movement, advanced
up thepass • their rifles in trail, and their
faces and bodies rendered still more hideous
and ferocious looking by the grotesque mark
ing of their war-paint ...Con they came swiftly
and silently, d all unconscious of - the fate
that was in sfhre for them.
The foremost of the band,whose command
ing stature, wolf-teeth collar and eagle tuft,
at once proclaimed him as chief, had advanced
until 'he was directly opposite the bush in
which Death was hid, when the latter with
startling distinctness suddenly, imitated the
cry of the night owl, and discharged his rifle.
Eight of the 'lndians fell by the volley;
which - the remaining riflemen now poured'
in upon them; but strange to say, one of the
-five who did not fall, was the chief -whom
Death. had aimed at. This unusual event
was owing to the following cause . ; the branch
of the bush on which he had steadied his arm
in firing, had suddenly yielded at the moment
he discharged his piece, thus rendering harm
less his otherwise unerring aim. .
Uttering an imprecation of his ill luck
Math sprang down the -bank to the rest of
his companions, and . with one bound le
reached the side of the Iroquois chief ; they
grappled and both fell heavily to the ground,
clasped in a fearful embrace, and darting
glances of savage hatred at each other beneath
their knitted and scowling brows.
Keep off!' shouted Death, as he saw one
or two of his companions in the act of stoop.
itig down to assist keep off! and if he
limiters me let him go.' .
Over and over they tolled, writhing and
straining, but seemingly neither obtaining
any advantage over the' other. At last the
head of Iroquois suddenly came. in contact
with the point of a rock that protruded from
the bank, stunning him so that he relaxed his
vice-like grip . _ of Death's , throat ; and the lat
ter, thus reletsied, springing tohis feet, fin
ished his career by bringing the heavy breach
of his rifle with sledge balancer force down
upon his head.
The remaining four Indians bad been like
wise dispatched; and . the victorious riflemen
(none of whom had received any wound worth
mentioning,) now sent up a shout of triumph
over their victory that the echoes of the old
wood rung with it for minutes after. -
As Col. limes had promised, Death was
promoted to the - vacant post of Lieutenant;
and now, dear reader, we beg to inform you
tot. our hero and the uncompromising vet:
ertan, General Morgan, of revolutionary no
toriety, were one and the same individual.
• About a fortnight after this eventful night,
Standhope Farm became the scene of as much
mirth, good eating, and , dancing, as could be
possibly. disposed of during the twenty-fout
*wry; 'and though we think it will be almost
superfluous to do so we will
. add, that the
cause of ".merry-making," was the marriage
of the beauteous Hester Standhope with
Lieutenant Henry Morgan.
`l- . F-tTbe knowledge of truth, which is the
presence of it, and -the belief of truth, which
islhe enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of
human nature; that is to say, it would be,
or rather, it will.be, when we shall arrive at
O knowledge and a love or the truth. That
time is nut yet.. -
H. H. FRAZIER, PUBLISHER---VOL. 3. NO. 38.
A HORSE 'STORY
A keeper of a hotel not fifty mites from
Boston, is, or was, a famous man for horses,
owned many, and was always 'ready for a
trade in such cattle. Ile was sharp at a bar
gain, and was never knoi-n to make a move
that didn't count on his side, until the follow
ing hippened, that proved an exception to the
rule. He always had some particular horse
oa
. haml. for every particular emergency of
trade, and the adroitness of his operations in
putting off a beast was a subject for delighted
approval on all hands among connoisseurs of
that delightful and muck abused animal, the
horse. No one ever - traded with &Ale that
did not confess himself satisfied, though,sat
isfaction, being . a latitudinal word, did not al
ways mean that the satisfaction was the ulti
mate of happiness in the trade—like the same
term in connection with the duello.
There was &jolly 'cobbler whose . name was
\Vat, that occupied a small shop near - th
hotel, to whom Statile was accustomed to re
fer in case of any stick in a transaction, and
;he being a disinterested man, would decide
on the matter of difference, always-r—howev-
er, by what wits deemed a strange fittality,
deciding in favor of Stale. Some, however,
went so far as to intimate that Sterne and the
cobbler had talked-the matter over previous
ly, and had certain signs by 'which they uti
derstood each other.
. When the . stick came, then Statile would
say, Well, well, we can't get along any -fur
ther. Now i'm willing to leave it to a third
party, and as Mr. Wax, around the corner,
knows the' value of. the horse.l ain swapping
with you, : he will be as good find candid an
arbitrator as we can find, and.auess I'll call
him." Mr. WaX would. se- r c dingly come
out, leather apron and. all, an , after looking
at the matter candidly, w Id decide that
Stafile receive a smart co sideration as the
difference in value, and t s would settle it
pine times in ten.
One day there came along astranger with
a pretty good horse, and it was at once an ob
ject of Statue's interest.. lle examined the
horse in all his points, and determined to haVe
him. The determination worked itself up to
a positive fever. by next morning ; and when
the stranger's horse was led out to be har
nessed, -Statile stepped oot and asked• the
owner, who was looking on, seeing that the
harness was adjusted properly, if be didn't
want to swap horses.
The stranger told him he hadn't the least
objection, provided he could make a little
something out of•it. -
" Well," said Stalk, `.‘l'in glad to hear
you say so.
.John, brin g out the red colt."
The red colt was accordingly brought oil. -
It's name was a misnomer: It was one:Of
those animals that, having been called
,j.
colt when legitimately entitled to the appe -
fation,. had forfeited it. by. the offense of age,
and was now sailing under false colors. - The
stranger looked at the "colt," and gave. .a
whiStle as he saw the discrepancy between
the title and the age.
" Well," said he at last, • "how shall we
trade . ? What are you willing to give to
boot?"
" Boot !" said Staille, with'reigned surprise,
" the hoot is on the other leg,. I think."
" Ah," said the man, "well, if you think
so,we will situp negotiation. Good morn- -
ing.” •
"Hold on," cried Stafile ; "hold on—
don't be in such a hurry.' Stippose I should
offer you--siy, twenty-five dollars—how
would that please you?"
"It would not please me at all," was the
reply. " I shouldn't wait to take less than
eighty dollars."
" Well," said Stall?, " I can't do, that;
" but I'll tell you what I will do—l'll leave
it out to somebody." .
"Done," replied the stranger; "anything
for a trade. Whom will you leave it to?--
Somebody, I hope, that knows what a good
horse is." s , •
"Never a better, sir,' said State, _ delight
edly ; and here's just the man, of all others, .
that I would like , to see, coming into the
yard. Good morning, Mr. Wax."
Wax nodded good morning back again, and
said so, and then stood with hislands under
his apron looking at the horses. - -
" Mr. Wax," continued Stale, "this gen-
tleman and myself are about trading horses,
and we want you to decide on the amount of
boot that lam to.pay him. You know what
an excellent horse. the coult' is, and c a n
judge by eomparing the two, what the differ
ence should be."
" Mr. Wax, are you a good judge of hors
es 1" asked the stranger:
Mr. Wax nodded, and looked up into his
face, as much. as to say, "I should like tO
,have you find a better one." He then pro
ceeded gravely to examine the two, and, after
standin,a with 'his arms akimbo fur some min
utes said— ..
,
: "I should think seventy-five dollars would
be about right."
~
.
Good," 'said the stranger ; " five dollars
isn't much in a trade. Give me seventy-fivn
dollars, and- take the horse."
Stet& was red as a beet, and drawing out
his pocket-book, -he counted out seventylve
dollar; and- paid them- over. The transfer
was made in BHence, and the stranger drove
away. After be had gotIV, Steak, turned to
Wax; who stood there- very smilingly, say
ing-
- "That was a devil of a trick you played
me. What was you thinking of? Didn't
you uriderstatid the colt' was mine?" . -
`Yes," replied - Mr: Wax; . 4 but you. didn't
suspect that the other Urge was mine, did
you 1 I bought him vesterday on specula
tion."—Basten Saturday Gaiette. .
MRB, PARTINGTON'SOPINipN OF - GENIUS.-
" I don't know what you Mean by genius,
said Mrs. Partington with animation, Nihile.
speaking of the merits of a tyro, who • had
just given evidence ot a wonderful ability by
improvising, ostensiblyos poem, before the
institute of which he is a member." " I don't
• know what' you mean 'by genius iLhe ha.sn't
'got' it, for didn't he impoverish poetry .bellire
the literary destitute; l'shonld like to knOw,
and receive lots of reprobation for h from
people who know_ what good poetry is !"
There was a triumph 'in the 'tone of her. voice,
and .though .her 'antagonist smiled, she evi=
dantly had hint, because . he made no farther .
remark, except to.request her to (snivel Ike
to discontinue blowing beans at him, as sev
eral ha& come in rather: close proxitnity to
his nose. Ike said ho was blowing them .at
Lion. • • • .
1* * 6 A bitteejest is tiie poison of frientisliip
=
~
The Patch on Xr. Karey'slreechee.
Haiper's Weekly relates the following an- '
ecdotes of Mr: Marcy he was Gov.
error of this State, he was visiting Newburg
on some publia Occasion, and with& party of
gentlemen, Whigs and Democrats, was at
the Orange Hotel, - ;Good humor. was -pre
vailing, and one story suggested another.-7.
The Governor always enjoyed a story; and •
could tell one wish excellent effect. A' Whig
lawyer was present t and the Governor,,recog
nixing him„ - said :
I'll tell. Yon ,- a , good story. of
Spooner. The other dayhe came up to AI- -
bony, on his way to the Whig Convention
at Utica, and so he took it in his way to call
on me to get a pardon for . a convict at Sing
Sing. I beard the case, examined the doeu
ments, and being satisfied that all was right,
agreed to grant the request. Spooner handed
me the — paper to endorse, and I wrote, ' Let
pardon be granted. W. L. Marcy ;' when
Spooner cried' out, ! Hold, bold ‘ Governor !
that's the wrong paper r And sure enough,
it was a whip 'Teeth Out' he was going to,
make at Utica, abusing me the worst possible,
way. But I had granted the pardon in ad
fiance, and I suppose he committed the offence ,
afterward." -
The story was received with great applause
and Spooner, beinglooked to fur a response,
instantly went on with the following, -which,
for an extempore story, certainly is capital
" Yes, gentlemen—yes, I did. And when
the Convention was over we went to Niagara
and as we were dragging on by stage
overmiserable corduroy roads, banging our
heads against the - top of the Coach, and then
corning down as if we were :to -go through
the bottom, the stage came to a dead halt ;
the driver ,dismounted, opened e door; and
requested us all to descend, Vlre,did so, sup- ,
posing.' that seine accident had mecurred.- •
When we were input, standing' on the ends
of the . logs of which the-road was made, the •
driver took off his bat and Gentlemen,
we always stop here out of respect for the
Governor; this is the identical spot where
Marcy tore his pantaloons!'" •
The•story was heard with great jollification,
in which- no one - joined more heartily than
the Governor himself .
That pantaloon incident deserves to be re- ,
corded in every history of this great man.—
He was sent out to hold special sessions of
- court to try the anti-Mdsonic parties charged
with murder. He was to receive, a salary
and his expenses: With that niceregard for
details that belonged to his sterling character,
he kept a minute account of all his expendi
tures, and handed in the list on his return,
without thinking it proper to revise and strike
out those items of a private nature, which
other men, less scrupulous in great matters,
might have carefully
~suppressed. There
stood the tailor's charge for mending. The
- political foes of the Judge., when be came to
be candidate for Governor, found. it. and pa
raded it before:the world in the newspapers;
and making an effigy of Mr. Marcy, suspend
ed it in the streets of Alhany,-with a great
patch on the pantaloons,and ‘ the tailor's charge
on the top of that.
But an observant people saw through the
patch and the charge into the heart'of an hon
est man, and in ' that very deed of his - they
recognized a frankness and"transparency of.
character that commended
_him to-their warm
approbation. It is not probable that the
pantaloon charge lost for
,him a single vote,
while'it is doubtless; true that it made him
multitudes of friends He was never asham
ed of it, And never hid reason to be.
MARRIED IN SPITE OF TirEmszLyss,
Old Governor Saltonstall, of Connectiett,
who flourished - some fifty years since, was a
man of some humor, as. Nv ell as perseverance
in. effecting the ends he desired.. Among
other anecdotes told of him by Now London
people, the place where he . resided, is the
following :
Of the.various stela that have flourished
63rtheir day and then ceased to exist, was
one known as the Rogersites, so tolled, from
their &under—John or Tom -or some other
Rogers--who settled not far from the goodly
town aforesaid.
The distinguishing tenet of the sect was the
denial of - the propriety and :se.ripturality of
the farm of marriage. "It is not 'gOod for
man to be alone." This they believed,' and .
also that one wife only should " cleave to her
husband," but then this should be is matter
of agreemenwnerely, and the couple. should
tome together and live as manand wife, dis
pensing with all forms of the marriage
‘ coy 7
enant: The. old governor used— ' frequently
to tali upon. Rogers and talk the matter
over with him, and endeavor, to convince him
of the impropriety of living with Sarah as.
he did. But neither John nor. Sarah would
give up the argument.' - • .
It was a matter of conscience with thetti--L''
they. wet e very happy together its they were
—of what use then could a mere 'matter of
form be 1 Suppose they would thereby .es..
cape scandal ; were , they not bound "AO-talus
up the.: cross, "
and live„aceording to the rules _
they professed ? The governor's logic was
powerh.s.
He was in the neighborhood Of J-ohn one
day, and meeting with him, accepted an Invi
tation to dine with him. :The , - eonversation
as usual, turned upon the old subj . eet.'•
"Now, John," says thCi.governor, after a
long pause, 4-why will you net marry- 6a
rah 1 Have you • not taken her to be your
' wedded wife l 7 • • • .
"Yes,- - certainly," replied John, " but my
conscience will not permit me to marry her
in thelortrt of the. world's people." ..
'.4Very well. But you love her ,
"Yes."
" And cherish her, to bone of youi bone,
and flesh of your flesh"
" Yea, I certainly db." • -
" And .you, Sarah, love him and obey him,
and respect him, and cherish him 1"
- "Then," cried the Governor' rising, "in
the name of. the laws . of God and of the Cont.
monwealth of Connecticut, f - prunounce.lou
in be-husband and.. Wife." - : • • . •
The ravings and rage of John and Sarah
were of no avail—the knot was tied by the
highest authority in the %etc.- _
lar Time is the most precious and yet
the most brittle jewel we have. lt, is what
every man bids largely for when he wants it,
but squanders when he gets it. • , • •
poW" The American -Battet'ofPorternouth
will'never surrender.. It goes—;.° For Frei
ident (until elerted,) JUtui - C. Fremont. l % •
11
NM