The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, July 28, 1859, Image 1

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    A. J. GERRITSON, PUBLISHER.
GROVER & BAKERS
CELEBRATED
- --- - .. -..—. - -..- --...- - . 7 .- —1
___„,_ _ ._ _ _ : - - - ---..-..------
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ME CRUSOE OF THE STORM Y; ly persuaded that his felloi white men would I tent, and just room enough, furthe use of
-' • - DESERT. : l i not desert him, mid that-they would bring him ;-his weapons.
Late in the autumn of the year eigliteen
••I eaglet means of traveling, iu his disabled conel In this situation ho watched and listened.
i
hundred and fifty-one, Ms. Baldvrin.M . ollfau . -i. offer,
dition than those which th e Delawares could I Although the frost was so intensa. th at his
rep, a - Prussian traveler, pursuing h i slevesti -1 still said, "no." •
,Chap
still held to his first resolution, and ; breath froze to his beard, .and his l e f t b an d
felt glued to the barrel .of his levels:4l,4lle,
gallops iv Northern Americe, had occasion to
make a return journey across the Rocky'; ~
The Indians rose to leave him. , 1 the fever of expeeintion in his
,mind preveot
id t h e savage, led his feeling the cold. He watched, for
Mountains to the Missouri. Ile started -ss eh!! iu° word of a white," sa id
'interminable e time ;
---.. ,
One companion only, and with - three horsesi "is more to you than the will and deed of a ! what seemed t° be an
and, at last, the heads of the two men rose
and a mule for - riding and fur carrying the' - ' 1111 •
Red I,' You Katie ha d yourchoice — mar
e
baggage. •! you not deceive yourself? " • •..
figures followed in another minute. • All
scanty fodder, Indian treachery- and tbe',;
1 With these words he shook Mr. Mollhau
doubts were ended now—the last day in this
fearful cold of those snowy regiOne, produced . sea by the h and, athi he and his compan k ions
world had dawned for Lim or them—the men
the first disasters the travelers,
: b y ( U r i : departed. they never once looked bac
ring Omni of the services of all four animals. ! the traveler or Lis tent. but kept on _ t h eir ,„,, a , ) , t . were Peewees.
the Af s t a e r r a h g o es hlin t f council together - on the Lill,
Their lase horse was killed by exposure to as i rapidly toward th e south, and left Lim . a
threw back their buffalo skins,
icy gale, at-a &polio the miserable wildernees' doomed man.. ,
i- . aew their full issirere before' them, and
called Sandy Bill Creek. Here, now that their For the next eight ders inowstoruas caged
strung their hoes. They then separated.
last means ofgetting forward had failed them, incessantly, and threatened to bury him alive
'ealked to the top 'of the hill from which
'they were compelled to stop, at a period of in his tent. Although , he „ekes, as yet, spared
he e dsserted traveler h first caught sight of
the year when every succeeding day might the pangs of hunger, (tlitiotriendly Indian a
be expected to increase the horrors of the cold, having increased his small stock of peovis-
them, to trace the direction of his footsteps;
and the chance of death 'by stay ration its the alone by the leg of m anteope,) his sufferings the other elamined the track between the
prairie wastes. of other kinds were iudeseribable. He was water .anti the tea Both appeared to be
They had a little Indian Tent with them,and Iso lame that he had to crawl on hisbands and satisfied with
the tent, communicated with with ibeir'inyesiigaile°B4 Loth met
they set it up foi shelter , 'hey had also a , knees when be fetched his supply of water ; b
again
one another be reietures, 'which expressed
:small supply of brid bu ff alo meat, rice, and lo- 'his bend swam; his memory failed him, and
, their convirairies - oast the victim was asle'ep
dian corn. On this they existed miserably "he dared not close his eyes by night for fear by his fire ihritle. In another moment thhy
for a few days, until the Post from Fort Kear- I' of thewolves. Maddened by
hunger, they drew their howstiings, niacin themselves BO
nay to the Fl i - ver happened to pios them. !Warne nearer and neater to. him. Howling
that their dduble tire of arrows should meet
With all th will to rescueboth the travelers, Band yelling. they circled round and round the . 1
r
the Post did t possess the pervier. It was Iltent, closer and closer, at the close of evety at . n g 't angles in etent,
The man whose h . ..-:. they were seeking never
barely possiblefor the parsons in charge - of it— i !day. One night he head th e snow outside
felt that life so dear to him as-at the moment
their own lives. depending on their getting on !eracklingiinder s their feet;' the next, he saw
e he saw theta shoot live arrows into the
rapidly, and husbanding their pro Visions—to ' ;the teeth of one of them- appear through the
"hen
make room for one man in their little vehicle I leether side of Isis tent. , lie could only scare place where Ile had slept. Still he watched
'
drawn by six mules. The other_ma n would 1 ,them away by firing at them in the darknes , ;
a exis!enee now depended
n lid watched, for his
have no help for it but to rentifin behind midi j i hut they returned to th e attack in a few hours o his cunning and patience; on his not in is
;
the goods, alone in the wilderness, and-to keep ! and they left him no chance of sleep until the
calculating, by an instate., the titres to fire.
I himself alive, if it were possible, in flee dread- !broad daylight drools - them back to their lle saw the 'savages pause and listen before
' fat position, until. the Post could send horses , het& they ventured into the tent. One of them
• . then dropped his bow, grasped his tomahawk,
; back for him from the Catholic Mission,eighty !I He was just strong enough on the ninth and knelt to creep under the curtained -open
or a hundred milea-off: day to make the nioth notch on the pole of inie; %tale the other stood over. him with his
Ma- In this emereency--nn emergency of life I his tent., On the tenth he was powerless- ar'row in 'the string, ready to shoot. In this
"Haring had one of Grover & Baker's Ma- de at h s
orif-ever t here . was one yet—the tray- ' his courage gave way, and he despaired, for
chitits in r - ov family fornearly a Year and a half,
position, the skull - of the kneeling Indian
way ' eters agreed on draw l °. lots to decide which I the first time, of resctie. He hod a medicine
I take pleasure- ideommeridine it as every
-
reliable for the purpose fur whi c h i t i s ( I, 3 ,,i me d man ass to b e re, eu ed, and which man was ' chest. with him, which he had already used was brought within , he white man's line of
, sight; and he cocked the rifle. Faint Is the
—Family Sewing.”—MresJoshua s t.eavitt, wif e -to remain, The lot tia remain fell to Mr. Mull- ! containing . a small-bottle of laudanum and a click was, be saw that it had caught their
-of• Rev. Dr. Leavitt, Editor of N. Y. lode en-I bauseu.• ‘. s i Case of quinine. Without forming any dish quick ears—for they both started and turned
dent - • .• --
iThe Post renamed its journey at once, with finer resolution ; without will knowing what
round.. Obsoreino. ri,'„- e t thi s m ovement ma d e
"legatees myself delighted with y our s ew i ng ; the rescued - travele r squeezed into the lithe he did, be put the laudanum bottle to his lips the kaeeling mainess likely to escape his
Meehine; which has been in my family for many 1 c,erriage. Melleilliausen watched the depar- ' and emptied it. A deep swoon fellowed the eye in the tent, - he shifted his aim, and filed
Months.. It has always been ready. for duty, I torapt the veCiele ll it was out of sight, till j draught ; lie remembered taking it, and- re- at the naked breast of the mitn with' the bow.
tnquirt"g no altinettnt- and is easily ndarted I he sips left alone, L i
l ot ne living being in the ' Membered nothing more.
The sharp eye of the savage discovered his
to every variety of fatally sewing, L simply white, waste—the Crusoe of the snowy desert. I ;
i
1 When h cam 'to himself again it was bidden enemy at the same instant,
,and he
Chi:nein°. the 91001 S of thread."--il Elizabeth
rs " 'TI Led three l n•- t of life, but of death, i ii tc h desk h o
hise tent .
polar „ e re mid ng
&nettlenth-wife of Rev. Dr. Strickland, Eclitcr , e
sprang aside,;_ but it was too late—be was
Death by cold ; deatß by the murderous ' a gale of wind. Thirst, and, in is lesser hit; and be fell with a scream that diem,
of N.Y. Christian Advocate.
treachery of the savages . ; death by the teeth ! riee•ree hunger were his awakening series- through every nerve of Mr. Mothansen's body.
"After tryinesseverat good machines. I pieces '
-of the wolves which prowled the wilderness' it 47„. ' Ile eatis ' fied the first with half melted The other savage jumped to his feet,,but the
•
series
yours, on account of its simplicity, apd the per. •
b_ It t hewas a brae , man -sod he I en. ow , and the second with raw buffalo meat. I white mart's
wee
was the quicker of the
feet ease with which it is managed, as well as ~f night. imminent 1 ? • . '.. • •
the strength araddurability of the scene Ahoy! faced Lis perils and h is awfuLlone- i When his tire, (which had dwindled to a few 1 two, and a discharge of truck Atot hit him
hong , expelience, I feel competent to speak in ,i liners with a stoat, heart. -
I il , itumerinissparks.) was relighted, he roasted ~.' fu in the nice end the neck. Ile dropped
this manner, and to con fi dently recommend-II for I- He was well gupplied with arms and am- ; t
_e meat, and recklessly devoured three day's I de ad on the mot, by the silo of the other man,
every, variety of family sewing."—gl e e- E... 8. I munition; and the first•thing he, did when I rations at 'a meal. By , the morning he was ! who was still oToal - ia , v..
Spootter, wife of the Editor of Brooklyn-Star. I the Ptct left hini was to look to these- His ise !Ruch better, (partly through the rest I - Alth o u g h La kali f : t e a l h e had jestifiably
">; have used Grover & Baker's Sewing, Ufa- 1 next proceeding was to inake•mse of the snow j which tile laudanum bad given t o his mind; shot in selfefem e,
o re savages whose tour
ehine for two years, and hare found it adspted on the earth to keep out the s now from the I ['Maly through the sustenance which - the ex- ! derous designon his own life
bad
betray
to all kinds .1: fltniily sewing, fron t Cambric to , heasene by raj-6g a white wall, firmly shim- I cars o f food had given to his k9dY,) that the ed bef re Lis evc —nthotigh he was abs
Broadcloth. " Garments have beenworn outw I ped, all round; his little tent, Be then drag- preservation of his life became once more a i timely ceitete til e ; ie. hiihs s oae,of th e P....
eut the giving way of a stitch. The Machine is ;
ged up e supplv.of work' from the rise's-neer-1 eratier of steno interest to him. Be tottered I nees had been permitted td escape the-whole
tally" kept ia'"dsr' and easily " en ! a " &"---Ifre ' 41 ' 'at bend, and
piledtai
it before- .his door. ills ! ' • -
ft:Whipptte wife of Rev. Gin. Whipple, Nieel .. out, leaniug on his rifle to get a little exit - I tribe would - Lave been at the tent the next
'fork. tne-pheee WILS- a hollow in the ground, in front ' else. In a few days be contrived to *alk as ; day—the brave traveler's heart deserted him
of Lis blankets and buffalo hides. The food - far as the top of a low Lill, from which he I when he saw his two enemies on the.ground,
Le possessed to cook at it consisted' of buffalo I could look forth, all round, over the -lone- I and when lie thought ot the terrible after
_
meat and ricea He bad, also some coffee. I sm ue pr os p ee - L
necessity of h:ding what had been done.
These prosiseions, on which his feeble chance !
1 ;13s- this, time his provisions were at an 1 With a - teeling of unutterable despair he me
of life depended, be carefully divided into •i I
ad,' and the last faint hope of rescue from elianically re loaded hierr if e, and approached
fc'efieen drys' cations, havin g first calcula t e d ' ° the Mission had died'out Of his mind. It was the place. The groans of- the Indian who
that, in fourteen days at the furthest ; he I a .„ tiestten,
now, whether the man should de- had been shot in the breast moved his Oily
might look for help from the Mass*. The
sum of his prepasatiuns was now complete. I
i' Sol the wolves or the wolves the man. The so strongly that they- seemed to recall hint to
v man lied his rid Lis ammunition, and. hie himself. First turning the Seed Indian's face
Ile fed his fire set on his food to conk, and . I
crept into Lis blankets to wait for.the coming ! tea , ' ,
. d resolution t e' o fi 'lit it out with solitude, downward, to escape tbe horrifying sight of
i c s orn, l and starvation tt the very last. _ And the mangled features, he approached his
of night- 7 the first night Alone in the desert.
After a time the silence and the solitude
I the wolves dropped under his bullets, and wounded enemy, and made sigds that be
, I fed • Lim with their dry, sinewy flesh. He I would forgive him, corer bins with buffalo
weizhed upon bi m so heavily . that he se:wipe I , . k the heat Par e of t h e , meat on ly, an d l e f t 1 skins, take hini into the tent, and there do all
some kind of comfortarid companionship I '••??
trying to talk to himself; but, in that forlorn
in j the rest. - Every morning - the carcass abaci- i that was in the power of man to gain his
cloned over night was miring. The wolves 1 good will by preservingps life. .
situation, even thesousel of his own epice made I
that were living , devoured the last morsel of The savage lay writhing aisd blesding,with
Lim shudder. The sun sank to its slatting hes i t , • -.
re wolves t h at were deem his teeth clenched, witli.his eyes , glaring in
hind snow clouds; its last rays were, teem 1, •
deadly hatred - through the long black hair
Al g rew accustomed to his wretched and
Wing redly ever the wildernessof white ground,
l e- n food and to every other berdshin
thesolitude that almost devered his lace. But, after awhile,
when the howl of the wolves came down up- I re _Y_ ° . " g '.. •
on.him on the icy wind. They were assent- f b f I
o ; ts_or.o , rn situat ion—except the inercifuli White -mat) saw that his gestures
The unuttera ble oppressio n of his own were understood. A sense of joy, overflowed
bled in a ravine where the traveler's last horse 1 DLit. .
i loneliness Inehgejnpori his min d, a . heavier his heart at the prespeet of saving thelndian,
had fallen dead, some days before. -
.Nothiog
i and heavier weight with each succeeding day. a nd
solitude,
of securing a companion iu his fearful
:was left of the animal but his polished bones,
an d over t e es , I A savage shytiess' at the idea of meeting with °lituds' The wounded man :armed to him
mid the rings of.his harness;
bare relics of the feast the ravenous creatures any living human creatures began to take to coma menses, and pointed with 'his left
m
Wrangled and yelled all night long., The de. possession of him. There were moments when hand to his right hand and rus, which lay
ratted man, listening to them in his tent, tried
Iteunderwent the most fearful ofell mental trials twi-ted under him. Withoutthe slightest sus
to while away the unspeakable oppression of I —sae conscious struggle to kegs). the control piciore Mr. Mathewson
.knelt over him to
the dark hours by calculating their -varying
of his own senses. At suck times he sang, place his arm in an easier position. At the
numbers from the greater or lesser %edema of
and.- whistled, arid extended his walks to the same time tlis . wietehheright arm flashed out
the brawling sounds that reached lima Ex-
utmost limits his strength would allow; and trim beneath him, armed with a knife, and
haustion overpowered his faculties while he
so,; by main force, as it were, held his own struck twice at the unprotected breast of the
totteringreason still in its place. than who was trying t ' savehi Mr. If H
o m. 4 o
was still at this melancholy work. He slept_
hausen parried the blows with his right arm,
till hunger woke him the pest day, whep the , Thus, the - woeful tune—the dreary; lonely,
son ,wea high again in the heaven . hopeless hours—wore on until be had cut Lis drew les ovrin• knife with 'his left band,
sixteenth notch in theetent-pole: Thisiwas a
' and inflicted on the vindictive 'savage the
He cuta notch in the pole of' his tent. to
:mask that one day was paet. it was then the -memorable day in the history of the Crime death that he bad'twice deserved.. The •.rat
sixteenth or eighteenth of November; and by of the snowy 'desert. ale sounded in the throat, and the muscles
Christmas he vainly 'believed that he would He had walked out 'bet the top o• f
the little of the naked figure stretched themselves ; (he last convulsion. The lost traveler
be safe at the Mission. That second day was hill to watch the sun's war downward in alon e again—alo n e in the frozen wilder
very weary, and his strength wagailing him the wint r y western heaven, tied he was wears - with the bodiesiaaf the two dead men . .
already. When lie dragged up the wood and ly looking about him, as osual, when ho saw Th e night was at hand -h-the night came—
!
a night never to be foegotten, never in any
water s to his tent, his fret were lame, and be 1 d o human figures, specks as yet, in the die
staggered like a drunken man. - • It -wipe, approaching from the far north. The mortal language to be do scribed Down silt'
. ,
! Hopeless and hungry , be set down on his . waTniug of the Delawere Indian came back
the gatherieg darkness carne he gathering
Ito his memorg, and 'reminded him that those wolves; and eoneditild roanditie two corpses
bed, filled his pipe with willow leaves, the
best substitate'for tobacco that be possessed, ' two men were approiching s from the district -in front of the kept they gathetad and howled.
and smoked in the warmth of the fire, *lib, of the murderous Pawnees. '
All through that awful night th e :Jost man
. . .
his eyes on the bOiling kettle into which he 4, moment's eonsideration decided him to lay Itstening to them in t e pitell darkness,
1 ,
'had thrown a little nasizs e ,.lle was rill thus ' a welt -the coming of these strangers in a place now cooling his -wounded arta with anow,
ocupied when the dreary view through- the ofambush which commanded a view of his now fi ring his pistol to scare th e wolves from
opening of his tent was suddenly changed by . tent. If they were Pawnhen, he knew that their humanprey.
the appearance of living beings .' Some th
horse- el time had come when they or--he must 'With the first gleam •of daylight be rose
men were approaching him, - driving laden dies! -
. to rid himself of th e horrible Companionship
_
horses before them. His weap were at Ile went Lack' to the trart,'armled himself, of the bodies, and all that betrayed - theiffate,
hasiii, and, with them seedy,' pe ons
a their with as many weapons as be could carry, before the next wandering Indians came near
advance.As they ca me nearer , be.saw that' (04 the percussion caps off the rest, arid hid the ipot,and WOTO the welrm gathered again
they — Were Indians of a friendly tribe, return - •theirs under his bed. Then he put wood on with the* darkness. Hunger drove Lim
,to
ing from a beaver hunt. -Wi th in gun-shot the , fire, 'so as to let the smoke rise free! begin by taking
_their provision .of dridd
„they itsipped, au& °Dior them addressed him' thringh the opening at the top of the tent, I buffalo meat from under the dead men /lath'
'
in English. - They accepted his imitation to Audi thereby streugtheo any suspicion in the ! era girdles. He then rolled bp their remains,
entere the tent; and sitting there b:y his aide, minds of the strangers that a living man was with whatever lay about theat e intbeir buffalo
ereated him, long and,eartmatles.to e- i ns ia e it; an d li e . slit fastened the second robes, tied the•us round, dragged them, one
'filmdom thagocida, izgiire up the vain hope opera& which iservest for a door, tying it on after the other, to the hole in the ice where
of help from the Mission,.aed to save his:life . t h e i nner swa t as if he had shut him se lf up he got his water , 'pushed them thro u gh
by casting hisf'lirt with th eitss - •-•' 'for the fright. This Sane he withdrew to the it, to be misled 'sway by the Cu rent
-of The
. . . .
!The Wolveis" * said the man who had .. first frozen river' of . Sink Hill. Creek_ about a water. -
.- a ', . - • ,
.. , e
spoken in English —a Delaware Indian ....the huridted and `fifty panes off . ,- Walking back - Evian. yet, she iittnabmeof his' necesistry pre
owolves will give yodno rest'day or night ;.. war . so' at. to :make his 'footmarks in 'the cautions was not cOMplete r • • He Eradft lae
i
and if the men
-of the Nines tribe find. you snow appear, to be leading to the tent, instead Metes mitkesneet,Sin the spotavheiti the- two
out,you will l , ,•"ci,rehbed; tnaidetid s and =4 of away f r o m it; Ailiyed at the ice, Off iildesh erairagei bad drepped, with - the donblir'objec . t
ed. , You hitysi as Hope cd• rescue. Bad her, the high , winds - bait drifted the seow open of - effacing ell 'traces of • theirlalt,iiidif de
, ses • will not live to got you, ' and
ilia whilo, .the 1,04,, be took off hi s a w es f or t e as t h e stroying Jbes - fahiteta scent 'of, Vinod before
I ofebe,lfia s i o a w ill ar ,i r i s k goseikines... nett nada in them might.betrat him by scratches .the,wolves collected again: Whensthe ere had
their Olio - lives tome owe man -- - , wheat At; on,the smoothly &omit-Surface, and'iben fel- dwindled Ow° to '44 heap Pf- 14 ""h- a jle . W
I . O lio_
lives
will gi v e up roe lost. Como with ire '',. .. losed,.the striamoyerthe its, till be resobed snow - storm -. smoothed out alLtilarkli:of ;It
' Bat Mr. Mollhansen unfortunate& foi him- ills Winding' wbichi ; lminilts As congaoam:, llyAlni 'next morning not a; sign w . as left: to
self, wraith in the Mission. Re *ea r n:tore- : est to his taat. Ilea, he, climbid . up tkie b ul k betray thiiiistatitani thhlodiani7ul 21 . 1 ifiath
over, bravely: and honorably an:ions : 4o pro, between two snowdlifo r and; hid himself !ground . was as empty and as white ea over--
:serv e the goods, only the . smaller share , of among some 'withered. . bashes, where the and of ell that bad happened, on/ that me. '
which happened to be his owtiproperty. Firm- I twigs
i iso urn
and stalks gave him a sight of the; rnorahle sixteen th day of the travel ea to
FAMTLY SEWING MACHINES.
New Style*.Pri CC'S from $5OlO 4195.
EXTRA CILARGE OF $5 FOR HEMMERS.
495 Broadway - - Now York.
F. B. CHANDLER, AG ENT,-MONTROSE.
Those machines sea• from tiro spools, as.pur.
-
chased from tho. store, requirjngno - rewinding, of
thread; they Hem, nll, Gather, and Stitch in
'a Superior style, fin ishingeach seam by their own
operation, without recourse to the handneedl, as
is required by other machines. They will do bet
ter and cheapey .... sewiag than a seamstress' can,
even if she works for oils cent an:hoar, and are.
unquestioiiabli.‘, the best Machines, in the market
for family sewing, on account of their simplicity
.dnrability c ease7 t f Management, and adaptation
to all varieties of family .sewing—exeenting4
either heavy or fine work with equal facility, and
without special adjustment.
As evidence of the unquestioned superiVtx
of theirNaehines, the‘Gnovzn &:ItAsen SEW
-ISO MACHINE Comea.sr beg leave - to respectfully
refolo the following,
:TI:swEitoNtALS:
"Your Sewing Machine has been in use in my
family the past two years, and the ladies request
me . to give, you - their testimonials Co its perfect
fulapredness, as well as , labor saving qualities in
the performaneesit family and-household sew.
Toe —Robert Boorman, New York.
4 For several months we have, used Grover &
Baker's Sewing machiiie, and have.come to the
conclusion that every lady who desires her sew
ing beauiffillly and quid:4 done, would be ntmst
fortunate in possessing one of these reliable and
indefatigable • iron needie-wouren,' whose com
bined qualities of beanly, strength and simpliei
q, are. invaleable."—q.: W. 3lorris, daughter of
I ;en: Geo. P. hforris, Editor of the Home Jour.
[Extract of a letter from Thos. R. Leavitt,
Esq, arrAtnerlean gentleman, now resident in
vdney, New South Wales, dated January 121141
ItzsS.l '
- 1 had a . tent made-in 3felhourn, in 3853, in!
s'Lich there were ore! three thousand yards of
sewing don© with one of Grover & Baker's Ma
an4 iingi; scam of that has nutstood
the double seams sewed' by sailors with a
needle and twine."
'lf Homer cowld 'be - Called up from his murky
hales, he would sing the advent of Grover &
Baker as a more benignant miracle of art than
wns ever Vulimn's smithy.- He would denounce
midnight skirt•making as ' the direful spring of
woes, nonorobored.'"--Trof. North.
- • .
'l.tike pleasure in saying, that toe Grover &
Halter Su-in , r Machines have - more than sus-,
tained my expectation. After trying and return-
tog others, I have three of them in operation in I
my di'Grent places, and, after four years' trial, I
have no fault to.6nd.”--.1. H. Hammond, Senator
South .
• ,
"My wife has had.one of Grover &-Baker's Fam
ily Sewing 31..achinesfor some me,ano lam satis
fied it is one- of the best labor-saving machines
that has been invented. I take much pleasure
in recommending it to the pubrie."—J. G. liar
ris; Governor Of .Tentense.
"It is a beantifni•thing, and• pats everybody
to an excitement of good humor. Were I. a
'atholic, I should insist upon Sain te Grover and
Baker having an eternal holiday in commemora.
;:on oftheir good deeds for humaeity.",--Cassios
NI. Clay. • ..11.
I
think it by far the best patent in aie. This
al pine sins be adapted from the fineit cambric
, the heaviest cassimere. It sews °stronger,
and.more beautifully than ary one can
:ase ne. If mine Cou.ld not be replaced, money
old not bay it."--11ra J. 11. Brow; Nasbri lie,
- it is speedy, very heat, and durable hi Its
rk : is essilysanderstood and kept in repair.
1 ‘‘.•aluestly recommend this Machine to all` my
issilltances and eikens."--Mris, IL A. Forrest,
tqn phis, Tenn.'
Find
thisZaettine to work to oar sails
f•idion, and wi th pleasure recommend it to the
übti:. as we laelle}se the Grover 11. Baker to be
Sealing ibiehine is aset 7 -Deary Broth.
Aliisonia, Tenn.
If used exelesively for rattily purpose , . %with
-, linary-eara, 1 will wager they will last one
' ,i lree-iteore years and tem, 'and never get out
fix..."—John Erskine, Nashville., Tenn.
" I bare hadyoer Machine, for several weeks.
?!.,3 am perfictly amisfied:Lhat the work it .does
the best and mart baintifol, that ever was
Na4ville. Tenn-
I use my Machine iponcontr cdresithaking,
-;. , 1 fine linewistitehing, end the work is adati
ab;e-Lfar better than the beat hana.setring, or
other machine 1 have ever.neen."—Lney B.
T ,,, wpson, Nashville. Tenn.
" I flbd the work theitrotigest tad moat bean
.f,4ll bare ever seen. made Maim bY
and• regard she Grover lit Bak e Ma,
i.i•pe as one of the greatest blessings to Our
• Tay lox, ists,ahville, Tenn.
Er SEND FOR A CIRCULAR.4ff
feblitOrl3*.
•
"WE JOIN OURSELVES TO NO PARTY TEAT DOES NOT CARRYTHE rum AND BEEP STEP TO THE MUSIC OF TEE UNION."
MONTROSE, PA., JULY 28,1859.
--- ---,---s- - -
in the - wilderness, nothing now remained, but
the terrible recollection of it.
The time wore on from that date, without
an event to break the woful monotony of it,
until Christmas came. He was still aliveNin
his solitude on Christmas day. 'A stolid
apathy toward the future had began to get
possession of hint; his sense of the horror of
his situation grew numbed and dull ; the long
solitude and the ceaseless cold seemed, to be
freezing his' ryiud, and making 'a new wil
derness there,tdreary and empty as ji t4e waste
that encompassed him. His thogglits ,
wan
dered with a I.:ertain sadness to the Christmas
t trees and thb children's festivals at that
blessed season, in his native Germany—but
he was too far gone for any deep grief, or for .
any bitter pangs of despair. lie kept Christ
i mas day - with the only indulgence he could
afford hifuself,a pipefull of dry willow leaves;
and, as night fell, he lay on his back by the
fire,
looking up through the hole in his tent
at the frosty heavens, arid fancying dimly that
the kind stars looked down on him, as they
, had often looked, in bygone days, at home.
The old year ended, and the new year came.
His hold on life was slacking—and the end
was not far off: It was daylight, early in the 1
month isf January. He was resting under his
blankets, not asleep, and not awake. Sud- '
denly the sound of approaching footsteps i
reached him on the still air. It was no dream •
.”-.a salutation in the Indian language reach- '
ed his ears a moment afterward: He roused
himself and caught up his,rifle. ,More words
were spoken before-he could get out of the i
tent. It was the English language this time. '
"You are badly off here, friend'!" said a
cheerful- voice. Had the white men of the
Post and Mission remembered bun at last I
No. When the tent covering was raised the
Indian entered, rind pushed his five foot rifle
lookingin before him. A savage man,lookin w i t h 1
five savage companions. - The`iost traiseler
advanced to meet, theta with his rifle ready.
Happily, he was wrong this time. • These 1
savage wanderers of the prairie—these char-
itable heathens, whom the pitiless Christians
at the Mission were established to convert—
had
come to de the good work' which his
white brethren, to their eternal disgrace, had
ne . glected—they had come to save him.. .
The man who had spoken in English was
a half-breed—a voluntary renegade from civ
ilization. His companions belonged, like him
self fo the friendly tribe of Ottoe Indians.
They had gone out with their squaws on a
bunting expedition, and they had seen the
smoke of the lost traveler's tire two miles off.
V You , are bangry," they said to him,. pro-
ducing their own food—" eat ; you are ready
to perish—conie with us; you ara sink—we
will take care of you, and clothe yoa." ,These
were the words of the:Redskins and the
friendly 'promises they implied were perform- ,
ed to the letter,
On the next day every-member of the hunt:
ins party including the women and boys,-as
sembled at the tent to remove.the forsaken
wHire wan , and all that. hefui.ge,: to nitu,-to
their oWn camp. The goods,
fur,•the preser
vation of which he bad risked his life, were
packed, up; the. wagon abandoned by his
'fellow-travelers and himself at the beginning
of their disasters, when their last horse died,
was cleared of snow again, and even the tent
was nut left behind. It was too firmly.froten
to the ground to be pulled up; so it was cut
off just above the snow, and was thrown over
the rest of the baggrAge. When the Indians
bad packed the wagon, their wives and their
boys harnessed themselves to it, and dragged
it away cheerfully to the camp - . Mr. Moll
hansen and the elder . warriors followed. The
Prussian traveller stopped, before be left the
place forever, to take the last look at the
lonely scone, of all his sufferings and perils.
The spot wliere his tent bad - stood was still
marked in the ennwy waste by the ashes Of
his expiring fire. Ills eyes rested long on that
last left, touching trace of himself and, his
hardships—then wandered away to the little
bill from which he used to look out on his soli
tude7—to the bank of the river where he had
laid in ambush for Ilse Pawnees—to the hole
in the ice through which he had thrust their
bodies. Ile shuddered, as well be might, at
the dreadful memories Which the familiar oh
jects around called up. A moment more and
be was descending the bill, from the summit
or which he had looked back, to follow the
trail of his Indian friends—a moment more
and he bad left his home in the desek for
ever.
In less thin five weeks from that time, be
and hig wagon-load of goods were safe, thanks
to the Ottoe Indians, at a fur trading station
on the Missouri river—and be was eating.
good bread. again, and drinking whisky
ponoh in the society of white men.
I WUD KNOTT DIE IN WINTUR,
IL OF "TOORTi ON A FADID DONA
id knott dye in winter,
'hen whisk is punchiz flo--
'hen pooty gals are skating
Oar foalds of ice & sno—
When sassidge meet is Outing
& licked nuts hi thick;
Owe! who kud think ov dighing,
Or even getting sick 1' •
I wed knot dyo.in spring tiem,
& miss the turn up greens
'AL the pooty song ov the little frawgs,
) 3
& the skilarks Iv screams; -
When bards begin I, ir wobbling
'- & tateis gin to spr t
When terkies go a libling;
1 wud knott then peg out,.
I wed krtott dye in summer, . .
& !cwt . () the garden sass—
The roasted lain & buttermlik— ,
The kool plus in the grass;
I wed knott dye in enineer,.
• When avry thing's ito heti,
& lane the whiskie Jeardipa
Owe know I ide realer knot. -
I wud lino!. die in .ortrn t .. -. . .
With peaches fitt for,e.ating ;
When-the wavy kern is getting wripe
& 'candidates are treating.
Phor these, and other wreasons,. ,
Ide knott dila the plan;
& sense ire 'bort it over,-.
I wad knot dl a ta11...
Pus 'sisters of the . Wasbborn family met
at the house of .1: °mak in Stafford, recent
ly, iocelebrate the birthday ' , gone of 'the
number.. Their umited ages amount to A 22
years, !is Orcutt 273 - Riddsh
Case.BB;•lrenaWashbare 84; Martha Wash:
bars 'Catharine Washburn 73; 'Of this
family-Iwo brothers died'at 80 and- . 84 years
resetivety;. two sisters at 89, 'one at 85,
ands one lit 75 years of age; so. thatthe aver
age age of a family of eleven children—of the
living and of the dead —ia more than 83
years.
- --
lYirs. filenville's Housekeeping.
WIIAT a pity it is that people are Obliged
to eat and drink this hot weather, and that the:
abominable practice entails upon somebody
the necessity- of cooking/I Tbii standing over
a /Pot-stove in the Odd/ of July', with the
thermometer 95 degre the Aside, is 'ruin
ous to white muslin esses anif flowingring
lets.
Now " love in a co tage" would be quite a
reasonable thing if ii eau% for the cooking ;
but-with the existing state o(circumstaniies,
it is perfectly absurd . to -sulk of. That is, if
anybody has a spark of romance in his com
position. Young people, who talk so beauti
fully and sentimentally about living on smiles
and kisses', would be glad before the close of
a week's subsistence on such fare, to set eyes
(and teeth, too), on a beefsteak and ACCOUll
paniments. -
We know we shall he rated vulgar to men
tion such a possibility, but so long as it is the
truth, what care we? Just nothing—so set
us down as low, common, mediocre, or what
ever pleases you best. • We give you -.carte
blanche.
Our friend, .sfartl t Mellville, commenced
housekeeping with the rosiest of all rosy im
aginations. If we sure writing of her as she
exists now, we would have written her narde
Mattie, but as we are speaking of her half a
'devil] years ago, we must presenting. to the
render _asplain , Martha, hoping - - shell excuse
us for so doing. l'lartlits mayrred (ils the firm
conviction), for -- pura WYE—nothing more,
nothing less.
,George Melville-sine a young lawyer in the
little village i i rfbirlow, and his clients with
their fees,, sing among the things tvbich
were ye o come,he was obliged to eommence
businees on a somewhat limited scale. Like
art - honest lawyer, however, as he was, he ex
plained the matter to Martha
_beforehand and
she, with all the ardent defotion of a young
lady of seventeen, expressed her Willingness
to follow him into lowest jungle in Africa; or
to the summit of the tallest iceberg upon
which the eye of the late lamented liaise ever
rested. Bat as George required no - such sac
rifice, she was obliged to satisfy her longings
for matrimony by retiring, on her marriage,
to a little live-roomed cottage, half hidden
from the pulklic road by two latge chestnut
trees. Roses—those necessary auxiliaries to
love in )t cottage—there were none, but Mar ,
tha cherished the idea of planting some*at no
very distant day.
They kept no servants-firstly because Mar- •
tha said it would be so delightful to work for
George—and there • Would be no pry ing, 'un
sympathising-eyeSto witness their tender little
tete-a-tetes. 'Secondly because George could
not afford the expense of a'" '
Well, one Monday morning, about a week
after their removal to their new home, Martha
rutted her larder (which bad been amply sup
plied with'cooked edibles—through her fond
mother'S care), nearly empty. George Want
ed 1. - .1 hteaktset in_ a hurry, as there was a
prospek Of a lawsuit Between Jr.ro
'-his nearest neighbor, John Brown, and Geo.'s
chance-ofbecoming Mr. Brown's counsel was
promising, if the thingcould lie made togb on.
There was bread tda bake, coffee to concoct,
table to set, floor to sweep, and her toilet - to
`ake, for Martha could not think of appebr
ing at the breakfast table without her muslin
peignoir and tulle head dress. After she
was attired in these becoming babilimerns
she commenced preparations. The first dash
;
at the stove, left a spot black as ink upon her
lily arm, and smeared the spotless sleeve of
her elaborate morning dress. When the mis
chief had been as nearly remedied a - spOssible,
Martha turned bar attention
. to bread maki ng. Make bread that was easy enough, certainly,
she said to herself, - but bow was it. done!
" The Family Housewife" was opened, and
George deputed to read the s glifeetions.
"One.pound of flour, sweet milk. enough to
knead, two table-spoonful of cream of tartar,
and a little salt. •
Very good, that was Very easy to - do so Mar
tha forthwith mixed the required ingredients,
..with the exception oithe salt..
"George, my love, how mach isa littlesalt!"
" Well I hardly know,my dear; a gill or
so, I should think."
A gill, or-so, was added,. sad the bread
committed to the ov-eu.'
"George, sill you just put is shale wood?
the fire 13 getting low," and Martha peered
suspiciously at the black, smoking grates and
the sizzlioz tea-kettle. • •
"Now for the coffee! Let's 'see George;
you like itstrong, don't you l"
"Yes, love." • • •
" Well, the - recbipf says--a common-sized
coffee-cup full for two persons, but this is an
economical cook-book, you knoW it isn't
likely that's enougloo be good. 'double
the quantity, to make sure."
- The little utn 'received a pint of the frag
rant Java, and after adding the water, Martha
laid . the table ,
and called her husband to
break - fast. An inspection of the bread proved,
it flat-::if not stale and unprofitable, as was
evidenced by George's wry face.
"Goodness, Martha! Did you mean to
make pickles of•us ! " 'ejaculated the discom
fited man, dropping a morsel of " the Staff of
life" frZau his half open moutli;upou his plate.
•'Saltertbau Lot's wife I" • ,
"My dear, you told me, how much to . put
in ; I only used what you said—a gill or so."
"Well, well ;`never mind, dearest!
do better, next time, I dare say. Mow about
the coffee!"
" George's bokul smile vanished, and bid
brow darkened with the first sip. (No man's
love ever withstood bad coffee.)
"Stronger than dye stuff! My dear Mar
tha, wby did you'make it so strong I "-
" You said yon liked it'so, dear-George."
Martha's fortitude granbeginoing to give way.
in tutu, . - . • -..
"There, love, don't - try very well
T dare any, with plenty of cream," and the.
pada a desperate effort to swallow' a mouth
ful, which had the effect of bringing the-wa
ter in copious gitantitiws to his eyes and nose.
~ T he flews. I" be inuttered, under bit breath
es:, in., struggling -be upset his- eoffse,.ettPi
and all, into his lap, and the scalding fluid
trickling lelsorly to the floorownst, have pro.:
ved anything bpt a pleasant sensation.
•
44 Morey, Geoiril' - You bite spilt, yourself
and i)ernt the Iggee ;oh+ 'dear hilt deer r
cried Mullin, too isOohAigilietted 1614 par
ticular about talking striuVit.: George grow
a little red the face, Miirthe took to the
sofa and her *bite cambric handkerotiet—
while her bersband; without Imatowing upon
her his customary parting kiss, seized bis bat
and fed from the Donee,
VOLUME XVI, NUMBER 29
......_ _ _...
tMartha groaned for an hour or two over
he heartlessness of thO world--the men in
• particular, and George over, and above Alf
the men! Poor child! , What a sad thing for
romance; that black bread and blacker cot
fee'had drawn away-the rosy eurtaitsofimag
ined bliss from before the stern and sober re
alit), of life! And she had seen ths4tieptre in
I all its hideousness! . , .
But a Martha Melville didn't kno'w how to
' make coffee, she was of tolerable perception ;
and after a time spent in reflection, she
started upend commenced washing thedishes.
Hurried and, flustered—a dirt spot here, a,.
1 grease mark there-.--dimning the splendor,Of
her morning robe, and putting its fair-Pro
, portions in eclipse—there came a rind like
a knell to. the ear of Martha. The door bell
rang ! Oh, horrors! what if it,iirould be the
fashionable Misses Farntow' nai 'or, the rich .
Mrs. be Clark 1.,
Martha thought 4,f locking the kitchen
door and hiding in -tee china Dime; bat she
remembered the visitors must have heard the
clatter of dishes as they stood at the door,
for the.kitchen was one side of the window;
so that wouldn't do. What if she should
pleadAndisposition and betake herself to the
sofa ? -
Finally, she concluded - to put th(beat face
on the matter and admit the visitor. It proved
to be Miss Hightlyer the storekeeper's wife--
who after entertaining pool Mar tha for an
hour with the trials she had with her servants,
took her leave ; hoping that Mrs. Melville
would call Soon—The enjoyed her conversa
tion so Much !
Half-past eleven struck, as Martha returned
to the kitchen, and dinner was not even "laid
out." -She racked her brain for a favorable
suggestion. That said organ seemed to be
unusually refractory, for not an idea regard
ingsteak or potatoes would come, so Martha
resolved on a very plain dinner—parsnips.
The market man had left them that morn
ing, and George had expressed himself ex- -
tremely -fond of them. Well how were they
to be cooked 1 The "Housewife" was silent
upon the subject;and Martha decided upon
a thoroughly original method—frying them
in sweet butter! She knew thip they were
buttered, and that muse Le incway. Tea
t and toast must be the accompaniments. One
o'clock—Mr. Melville's step was heard in the •
entry, and dinner smoked off the table.
George's ill humor had vanished, and thelias •
he gave his flushed little wifo smacked of
hearty affection. •
" Well, chicken, what's for dinner! A capi
tal little housewife you are going to make
me, ain't yowl' Punctual to &minute. Par
snips, by dove! Who shoilted you how to
cook 'em Is" and George ladled out a liberal
allowance—his scanty_ breakfast had made
appetite for him.
! - rather tough mu% they 1. It is
strange that Williams should have palmed
01 . 41 patsnir;a for new ones. Tough as a
shark-skin ! Are ycu sure you hailed Elvin
enough, Martha I"
• 4i:tidal non mew; t them, That's
tha . ?ight way, isn't it I" Martha's face was
getting troubled.
• " Well, no; I beliaye boiling is the proper
method. It is impossible to eat them as they.
are. Pass the sweet cake ' •
I tall be obliged
to make a homceopatbic diniter today, my
love."
The lawsuit between Brown and Smith was
progressing finely, and. consequently' George's
mercurial temperament of good nature bad
materially risen. Notwithstanding, it was a ;
cheerless dinner; Martha was . mortified and
George diMatisfied.
Days passed on much the same.--failurm,,
accidents and blunders innumerable occurred
each day. Blisters, burns, actratcheri and
bumps disfigured the fair surface, of her hands
and arms, and at tLe close of the first month's
experience, - Martha was ready-ite. renounce
everything for six „week's repoie nod quiet,
unhaunted by visions of dirty! dishes and
' cluttered rooms. Georgs; be could
to 'help her, but` notwithstandingthe purity of
his intentions, he was a "Inisd leader of t*
blind," and she was rather glad when 1110-
miter door closed upon Wm. Sympatliiiing
neighbors would have lent their aid, had she
not been too proud to permit them; and .
she grouped on in ignorance. Her gn3alvt
fear was company. -
The warm weather had dow l arrived, encl.
likely enough one of her deiri city friends
would come out to see how she liked the ex
periment of love in a cottage, with no Biddy -
to do the work. She actually shuddered at •
the thought! • Every time the Utah) came in;
and the little cab passed on its Journey from
the depot, she held her breath in &rim., lest
it slibuld pause before the door. 1.
One,day in Jude, hot and bluMiog, while
poor Martha was trying her belt to make
George's shirt bosom look passible, she beard -
the rattle of the frightful vehicle as it drew
up to the gate. She dropped this smoothing
iron and peered• through the blind. A nice
prim -lady of the middle age, dese.ended, .fol- .
lowed by an "armament of baudbexes anti um
bullies! ' Martha turned faint with horror.
wager anything it's George's aunt Mer
garet!"' She thai I have heard so ranch about!
011,..dear---dear ! what if it should be r
Aunt Margaret was the oracle of the Man
ville family.
The lady's clear, emphatic ringi forbade ill
indulgence of emotion, and Martha hurried
open the door.
"Does my nepbew, George Meliville, live
here?" inquired a pleasant cheerfal voice.
"He does. Are you mint Margaret
with 1"
. "Yes, dear; if you are George's wife, lam
your cone But blest me,' I didn't know
George's wife was such a young girl. Why,
my dear, yau Wok. flushed and tired—do aii
down; I can take off my things and.. put
them away mylielf."
And aunt Margaret speedily divested _her
self of tier neat travelling cape,and gray bon
net. ,
Aa it was near dinner time, Martha, atter a
little cheerful conversation - with her guest,
proceeded to the preliminaries for their meal,
vvirile aunt Misituut amused. herself with her
knitting "roar; - •
That dinner was a trying ordeal for the
young houiekeeper. The potatoes were half
'boiled, the steak burnt to a crisp, the bread
-
Was heavy and dingy; Martha. is tears left,
the table; George's face burnt with suppresii.
ed shame; and aunt Margaret, seeing the
predicament of things, ate in silence.
The meal over, and Georgti gone to hirbit
sinus, aunt Margaret drew from the affikited
Martha the whole story of he: troubles, and
a kind sytipatbizer the pattern aunt proved.
Eli=