. , • .
. .
- '
. . .
. , .
. I •,' ~,f, .j . -.
~.•, . . • -
,•„-
.• ,-.• - -. - 7".. ',.. f . r.-: .., :, - -....,., -• , .;•,-.„:;. ; ...„ r ... 5 . ; ,...,,,....,,,,, , ,• z
..._..,. , 1
... _,...:, . ..
~ ~.
.. i' '
.
• -- '' '
'- - •i• : -..,., --_• ,-' ,'.;, • - •,e~- 6 .• .'-- . , ... ..
. . ... ..
~. ,
„ ,
e .... i " .
....._, ..,... ... ..,.
~.. ..........,. ~...
~. .... .........
. • _ .
ro , -
..,.. .........,..
, •......•...•,..,.. . .• ~..
... ...•.....
...
~...,0 „ ,,•_:...,,,..,.,„ f-2. ''' ' -, T
•.- * °
•
•
iik •.!...., , ) .• , .
0 1 .
.-• , i ,
-...
:•-•
11 61 - 1 -' '1 441111 1-.4 ';lll4ei—'" ..• ._ ~_ ~. .. ..:••• . (14 • ..- r
„...,.
,__,.,... •
..•..•
......
~. _,•_,.._ .:....,.,
......:..,._,...•.._,....,,...,e,..., • :N., . •
, .
.....
. . ...•
•
. .
... ,
- 11102213C 0 426520
1170
1 Liberty.
DT T. B. itELD.
•
i.
winter blew his fiercest blast, j
icy snows were drifting fast,
child 'of slender 'term,
co a shelter from the l storm,
'neath a howlin i tslty,l jr
to ocean's la aby4
Loos curse ad driven-thechild
lons desert M. and wild.
mere boond his hands and feet,
his head the tempest beat; -
sib condemned with bonds to cope,
ipling's breast swelled high with hope.
ice from subterranean cave,
;per wafted o'cr the wave,
'le harps reolidn trill,
luring of the distantrill,
I within the spirit sigh. '
the name of Lt 'lEl'77.
tuth,onyielding, to the storm,
turdy grew in mind and form,
flying years sped hand in hand •
T oblivion's silent land.
summer clothed the hills in,green,
tread her thousand genp between,
ight the sunny shower to fill
•y the leaping, singing rill,
the youth in statue stroxtg,
re that spurned the oppnwsois wrong;
his spirit hung a spell—
the galling manicle. . •,
trilled his soul'! What lit his eye 1
iused his sad, crushed heart-to cry, .
anre! hear my troubl4.volce
iy-what makes thy heart rejoice!"
igit plumed-bird upon the limb.
11 day gave to heaven its hymn,
arth a strain with sweeter swell
'll bear thy spirit tell." •
rr stream, that sought the sea t
the air its minstrelsy—
iel rocks," the rambler Stied;
Id gladly bid the cease tolglide:
7, who came to curb my [course,
•whelmed at last by force..
le dancing down,the steep :
me laugh, you see mai l leap:
ae,lingering on the led,
dyeing 'neath the willoaq tree—
sr your heaving heart sonfess
tale of all my joyousness."
tic bursting on tha night*
• froth clouds sulphursOns light;
from a fountain gushes, •
the cliff' the torrent rushes,
within, the spirit cry
ag name of LIssaTTI.
youthful - Hero:lug;
the land, now on the seas:
Nigh he wears a mangle
in to his duty well t
tregurithe battle donor-.
are feting, one by mi l e
the-first at Lexington .:
,
they fall at every ',stroke, -
ins had the oprreawveiiiroke,
idin; free, a victor now; -
In with tranquil brow,
his fire-lit eye;
ag voice sends up a cry, „ _
bill and valley ,heard,
36 shores give back the word.
fdening name of Lt maim/.
ca's spirit to Itor ileepiog Lot*.
sleep on--less bright and dear
'(itietids who bang slcunbef here
watch of thy ipirit'hive,
l it sleep for aye could thy ma ttl di
41:18tti thy ep och tea mine,
ram the realms' atiove
•
sleep on for thy young heart's dreams
at as the sunset's golden beams, .
°eh o'er a summer sky
ilect sounds of a marts! throng
thee—but of smil and song
when I am nigh! •
1 , dream on, not of Pleasure's lure,
love I bOre thee, deep and pure,
chained in my - hondS of earth,
'lre again, but in sunny skies,
uh's unerring dart tie l er thee, •
it itr its birth !
•
seam on ache he i pprland
'bee soon, and the ;eistoik band
ore loved below.
not !Ong o'er thy shimbirs deep
spirit•loye her vigil kelp •
Nie of human w 7! ~.
dream on—for th *Vied cheek
-of suffering Ispeak. •
ty life's frail thread
guardian task be done, . •
be joined, thoti faithful one f•
t umbereewitB A dead/
The Indian Trail.
DY PEIRCE 11. BECTON.
.
66 The Indians have' attacked Mr.
Stuart's house, burntit. and carried his
family into captivity," were the first
word's , of a breathless woodsman, as
he rushed into the block house of a vil
lage 4itlie western part of New York,
during lne of the early border wars.-
6. Up, dozen men should have
been on the trail two days ago."
4. God help' us !" said one of the
'group, a bald frank forester; and with
a face whiter than ashes/ he leaned
against the wall, gasping for breath.—
Every eye was turned on him with
sympathy, for he and Mr. Stuart's on
ly daughter, a lovely girl of seventeen,
were to be married in a few days. •
The bereaved father was universally
respected. He was a man of great be
nevolence of heart, and of some proper
ty, and resided on a mill seat he owned,
about two miles from the village. His
family consisted of his eldest daughter
and, three widowed children. He had
been from home, so the rumor said,
when his house was attacked, nor had
the neighbois N, any intimation of the
catastrophe, until, the light of the bora
int,' tenements awakened the suspicions
tt.
of a settler; wha resided a mile nearer
the village than Mr. Stuart, and who,
proceeding towards the flames, found
the houses and mills in ruins, and re
cognized the feet of females and chil
dren on the trail of the Indians. He
hurried instantly to the. fort, and it was
this individual who stood - breathlessly
narrating the events which we, in few
er words, have detailed.
The alarm spread through,thi3 village
like fire spreads in a swamp after a
drought, and before the speaker had
finished his story, the little block house
was tilled with eager and sympathizing
faces. Several of the inhabitants had
brought their rifles, and others". now
hurried home to arm themselves. The
young men! of the settlement gathered
to a man, around Henry Leper, the be
trothed husband of •Mary Stuart, and
though but- few words were spoken, the
earnest grasp of the hand and the ac-,
"companying look, assured him that his
friends keenly felt for him., and, were
ready to follow him - to the world's end.
The party was about to set 'forth when
a man was seen hurriedly running up
the road from the direction of the dead
lated home.
It is Mr, Smart," said one of the
oldest of the, group. "Stand back and
let hith come
trite men ;tired right and left from
the door way, mid immediately the fa.
' ther entered ; the neighbors bowed re
spectfully to him as be passed. He
scarcely returned their "alutations, but
advancing directly to his intended son
in-law, the two mutually fell into each
other's arms. The spectators not-wish
ing to intrude on the privacy of their
grief, turned their faces away with that
instinctive delicacy which is no where
found( more often than among those
..svho are thought to be Merely rude bor
derers; but they heard sobs and they
knew net that the i heart of the usualy
collected Mr. Swart must be fear ally
agitated. ,
fit My friend's," he said, at length,
t , this is kind.. I see you know my
loss, and are ready to march with me.
God bless you!' Re could say no
more, for he was choking with emotion.
• 4 , Stay back, father'," said young Le-
per, using for the 4rst time a name
winch in that moment of desolation,
carried sweet comfort to the. parent's
_heart. , s you cannot bear the fatigues as
well as we—death'only will preventus
bringing back Mary." -
i• I know it—l know,. my son =but I
cannot stay here in suspense. No—l
wilt go with you. , I have- to day the
.
strength of a dozen 'men."
The fathers who were •there nodded
in assent, and nothing further was said,,
but immediately the, partyres,if by oue
impulse set forth:
There was no difficulty in finditig
the trail of the Indians, along which the
pursuers advanced with a speed, incredi
ble to those unused to _forest, life, and
the result of lung and severe discipline.
But rapid as their march was, hour af
ter'hour elapsed without any signs, of
the vicinity of the savages,.though
evi
dence that they had passed ' the route
_a
while before, was continually' met,'
The sun rose high' in he Iteavens until,
he 'stood above the tree tope, then he
began slowly to decline, and it length
his slant bearnacouldicareely penetrate
the forest; yet there were no ?appear.
anees of the Itidiin,N and the hearts, pf
the pursuers began to 'despond., - Al
ready the opinion had grown general
that a further advance was aseleie, for
Regardless cif-Denunciaticin from any Quar t er.—Go.r..P7oFr,24.
,lEVUttafra4l.9 lEBLEinEKED 0011515751 1 9 fliZgraiillll2" 5169 '. 204ir&
the boundaries of the settler's district
had long been passed: they were in
the very heart of the savages country
and, by this -time the' Indians hattproba
'Lily:reached their village. Yet when
the older men, who alone would venture
to suggest a return, looked at the father
or his intended son-in-law.!they could
not titter the words which would ,carry
despair to two almost broken hearts, and
so, the march was continued. But
night drew on and one of the eldest
spoke.
There seems - to be no hope." he
said, stopping, and resting.his rifle on
the groutid, and we are far from our
families: What t would- become of the
village if attacked in our absence ?"
This was a qUestion that went to
every heart, and by one consent the
party stopped, and many,, especially of
the older ones, took a step or two in
voluntarily homewards. The, father
and Leper looked to each other in mute
despair.
4. You are right,Jenkins," the young
man said at length. It is selfish in
us to lead you so far from home on--"
and here for an instant he choked—. 4 on
perhaps a fruitless errand. Go back—
we,thank you for having mite so far.
But as for me, my way lies ahead, even
jf it lead into the very heart of an Indian
village."
"And I will follow you And I!
And I! exclaimed a dozen voices, for
daring, in moments these,. carries
the.day. against cooler counsels, and
the young to a man sprang to Leper's
side. ' .
Even the older men were affected by
the contagion. They were torn by
conflicting emotions, now thinking of
their wives and little ones, behind, and
now reminded of .the suffering captiv,es
before - . They still fluctuated, when
one of the young men exclaiineein a
loci voice—
.6 See—there they are !" and as he
spoke he pointed to a thin column of
light ascending in twilight above the
tree tops from the -bottom of the valley
lying immediately before them.
':On them—on." said Jenkine, now
the first to teoveahead ; ~ but still, for
the slightest noise will ruin our hopes."
Oh I how the father's heart thrilled
at these words. The evident belief of
his neighbors in the uselessness of fur
ther pursuit had wrung his heart, and,
with Leper he had resolved to go on
unaided, though meantime he watched
with intense anxiety the proceedings of
the council,. for he knew , that two men,
or even a dozen, would probably be
insufficient to rescue the captives. But
when hih eyes caught the' distant light,
hope rushed wildly back over his heart.
With the next minpte he was foremost
in the line of pursuers, apparently the
coolest and most cautious of all. -
With noiseless tread the borderers
proceeded until they were within a few
yards of the encamped Indians, glimpses
. f;'whom they began to catch through
the avenue of trees, as the fire flashed
up when a fresh brand was thrown on
it. Stealthily'creeping forward a few
paces further they discerned the 'captive
girl, withher two little brothers, and
three sisters, bound, and, at the sight,
thelear of the father lest some' or all
of this little ones, unable to keep up in
the hasty flight, had been tomaltawked,
gave way to a thrill 'of indescribable
joy. Be and Jenkins were now look
ed on as leaders of the party. He paus
ed to count the group.
'tt "Twenty-five in all,". he said in a
low whisper. sti We can take off at
least a third with one fire, and then
rush in on them," and he looked at Jen
kins, who nodded' approvingly..."
In hurried' whispers the plan of attack
was regulated, each having ad Indian
assigned to his rifle. ' During this brief
pause every heart trembled lest the ac
entente' eracklieg of* twig, or a tone
spoken unadvisedly . above .a Whisper,
] should atttract the attention of the sav
ages. Suddenly, before all 'was arrang
ed, one of them sprang to his feet and
looked suspiciously in, the direction of
t our little party..At the same instant
another sprung towards the ' prisoners,-
end with hitii eyes fitted on the thieket
where the pursuers la*, held his iorna
hawk above_ thee. startled girl,,as if to
L strike, thelhetant any demonstration . ,'
hostiltty should appear..
The children .clung to their sister's
side with• stifled cres. The m' went
was critical.. The proxiniity of the
pursuers warkstispected, and - at their
discovery, would immediate result.—
To wait until each man hidliii; vidtiin
assigned him migh iirove-ruinous,'to
fire prematurely
,mi ht be equally so.
But Leper forgot _ oi , ry consideration in
the peril-of Mar y
t eed almost' it - the
inspirit when the oceurrenceswy;lave
related- were taking place, took aim ;at
the savage standing over his betrothed,
and fired. The Indian fell dead. IM
mediately a yell rang thrOugh the for
eat, the savages leapedein their arms, a
few dashing toward the thicken-others
rushed on the prisciners„ and others, and
these were the' more sagacious, retreat
ing behind trees. l But with what a
whoop a dozen rifles rang on the air,
and half a score of the assailed •fell to
the earth. while.the bordets; breaking
from their thicket. with uplifted knife:'
and tomahawks, came to the rescue:, A
wild-hand to hand conflic4isued, in'
which nothing could be seen kxce pt the.
figuies Of the .combatants tailing- to
gether among the withered leaves, no
thing (maid but angry shouts, and the'
groans - Of the wounded and dying. In
a few ininutes the bordeiers were vic
toriens.l
-Lepel. had been first to enter the
field. The instant he fired,. flinging
down his. rifle, he leaped from his'lid
ing place and rushed to Mary's side r
thinking only of her safety.' 'lt was
well he was so prompt. : Two stalwart
savages dashed at' her with swinging
tomahawk, but the knife of Leper found
the heart of one; and .the/other fell
stunned by the blow from butt end
•
of the father's ri fl e, whp< followed his
intended son a step or/two behind. A
second's delay would, have been too
late. Fortunately/ none of the assail
ants were killed: theugh several were,
seriously wounded. The suddenness
•of the attack'may accottrit for the com
parative infirnunity which they cloy
ed. / • -
How shall we-describe the- gratitude
and / joy with which the father kissed
his" rescued children ? How shall we
tell the rapture with which Leper-clasp
ed his affianced bride to his bosom ?
We feel our incapacity foy tbe task, and
the veil over emotions to holy for ex
posure. But many a stout borderer
wept at the sight. .
The Unbeliever.
I pity the unbeliever—one who can
gaze upon the, grandeur. the glory and
the beauty of the natural universe, and
behold not, the touch - of His finger, who
is over, and with and .above all—from
, I
my very heart, I do comisserate his
nondi ion. The untelie et, one whose
intell et the light of real n never pene- & .
ti
irate—who can gaze upon the sun,
moon rand stars, and upon the unfailing
And imperishable Sky. spread • out so
magnificently above him, and say all
this is the work ofchance. The heart
of such a being is A dull and cheerless
Void. In him, mind—the God like gift
of intellect, is debased, destroyed ; all
is dark—a cheerless chaotic labyrinth,
rayless. cheerless, hopeless. No gleam
of light from ' heaven penetrates the
blackness of the horrible delusibn—no
voice fromthe Eternal bids the despond
ing heart rejoice. No fancied tones
from the hearts of seraphini amuse the
dull • spirit of his lethargy br allay the
consuming fre Of the brain. The wreck
of mind is utterly remediless ; roasob
is prostrate, and passion, prejudice and
superstition have reared their temple on
the ruins, of his intellect. I pity the
unbeliever. - What to him is the reve
lation from -on high but a sealed book !
He sees nothing above, or around, or
beneath him that evinces the existence
of a God ; and he denies—yea, while
standing on the foot-stool of Omnipo
tence, and gazing on the throne of Je
hovah, he shuts his eyes to the light o
reason, and denies there is a God,—
CHALMEW.
• Wesley on Dress., /
Mr. Wesley was a grea 'admirer of
plainness of dress. especi yin women.
Being invited toldine - i gentleman's
house, there were t o ladies billowing
to the family who ad dressed tam
selves in the mo fashionable 7 inanner,
to do donor. a 'they thought; to Mr.
Wesley. % , hile at dinner her noticed
the young adies and their dress, and
at the sa e tutie took . particular notice
of the rvent maid's dress, who waned
at th table. which was very plain. is I
cannot," said he, "but admire the dress
i tyourservant ; I think I;have 'never
seen a young woman tio neatly dressed,;
of all that :I have seen for acme time. I
admire it the meet." Thuilthe mother
of the • young ladies, as well al them 7
selves. stood reproved by Mr. Wesley's
commendation of the servant's dress. , •
-A GOOD Itzsowr.—fellow .wtthont
.money, layioca _considgrabld., distance
to travel,_ fastened achain and _padlock
to his legs:and down a field:—
He was apprehended 'on -anipielon' of
beinta convlct, - and conve.ieitgralia to
thejail in tho town whither he &sired
Parents Read and Think.
.
We hatrp often.heard the remark, ••,I
can'tleatcEnglish myself; so it's no use
for me to take an English'newspaper."
To those who make-use otthil language,
we - would now address - ourselves, aa
say Friend, have you a family ? Hav,P
you children to educate ; •if you hay ( e,
just listen a moment. You send ieur
children to school—you wish/ them
. tight to, read and write in ider that
they may be- prepared foe / business lof
some kind in after life ;2vell, in school
they learn to read. and, vrite but when
they return home from school, the book
is left behind, and the reading antiwrit-
Ina no more thought of until the return
of school again ;' and.thus it is from
week to week, and , from year to year,
where noAewspaper meets the eve.-
Now, we would ask those who do not;
hake die paper. whether this is not the
fap(? The children grow up—they -
Ilave been to school and have learned
to read English, in a book, but know
little of the , world and the mannerof do
ing business, because the parent clues
not provide the newspaper that gives a
1
weekly .. a count of what - is going on in
the world ; and as the business of the
country is' done in the Englidh language,
they.are unprepared for business to the
extent that those who are in the habit
of reading, ' ..-,...
.
No person can conceive of the difeer
ence that exists, between' those - who
read the papers regularly and carefully,
and. those who do not. Take. for in
stance, a boy fifteen years of age, from
a family and neighborhood where news
paper reading is encouraged, and place
him beside a boy of the same age. from
a family and neighborhood where they
are not received. and you will require
no further evidence of the benefits, de.
rived from newspapers. Be who reads
the newspapers will be made acquainted
with what is transpiring, and at the
same time that'he is adding to his store
of knowledge, he -wilt be improving
himself in reading, as well as in the
English language. Now, is it not so ?
And if you-are convinced it is so, why
not give your children the same oppor
tunities' which others possess? Do
you not love them? Are the children
of others better than yours, that they
shoulsl be better educated ? Parents
consider. All wish their children well,
it is natural ; but all do not consider.--
One newspaper will do for a whole
family—all become instructed by k—
ali esquire the knowledge it imparts
and the parent who cherishes a wish to
See his offspring well informed, certain
ly must be pleased to notice the effects
the weekly paperproduces. Look into
, /i
some families where a newspaper is -
ceived, and you -see the children w it
ing with the greatest anxiety fo the.
_coming of the news boy. especi- y up
on a .wet or stormy day and after hay
ing read it, you will hear thein, relate
the occurrences mentioned' n the paper,
and speak of the news it/contains freed
foreign countries, as ell as of their
own country,) star and county, in
which they .livie • nd can it be 'that
.- . •
parents would dy rive-their children of
this ? We- do of think parents would
who have a y regard for them. But
all 'do not onsider aright: Soule think
only of e expense, two dollars a year,
and re son with, themselves as if they
deriv'ed.nO-benefit for the two dol.,
la* while at the same time. all their
hildren are. being instructed in knowl
edger such as they cannot get in school,
and wilt servo them in any situation in
life. -
Parents think of this. and as you
love , pour children , do not neglect the
necessary provision which is calculated
to benefit them through life. If you
have not already done so, go and sub
scribe for a paper, endeavoF to cultivate
a taste for reading in your family, and
the benefits you yourself will derive, to'
say nothing of the improvement.of your
children, will far exceed the Price of
subscriptiop. Many more and power
ful reasons might qe adduced - why eve
ry parent should *vide newspapei'
for his children, brit we will let this
suffice • for the present, and shall-ie ,
sume•the stsbject at another time;—:
lifpntgorrairy Lede,er. •
_
A GRAMMATICAL garru..--r atom.. said
a wistful Woking lass alms the .agei of
sixteen. I know.something show, "fl
uter. but I cannot -decline matrintonit.
3 noi see the reason why Myself and,Gil
bert c anno tbe conugated. I
j
THE TEST FORA DRIINXER, 114A1C.•••••
N. 0. Picayune, states, that a
'Court beiiig asked ''Whother a
'rain nn' trig} "'wasdrank Cr tots'replied,
that 'she never would say.ror :certain,
inept he,taw,ehiqr try, to light his' pipe
in the river." .
(CM 210 evocoatacom ,ak ectste
The,Youni Man's Leis" - :.
Yening/man ! after the- duties of the
day are' over, how do you spend yew
eveni4s r When business' s dull; and
lee,des at your dispo.al many unoccupied
hours; what dispoSition do you, raake of.
them ? I haie known, and You know,
many young - men, who, if they devoted
to any scientific, or literary, or
,profes
sional pursuits, the time they spend in
games of chance and lounging hi bed, '
and, in idle company, might - ,rise to any
eminence. - 'You have all lead of the
sexton's son, who became a fine astrono
mer by spending a short time every eve
ning in gazing at the stars after ringing
thebell 'for nine o'clock. Sir Williain
Phipps; who at the age of forty.five had •
attained the order of knighthood, and the
office of high sheriff of New England,
and Governor of Massachusetts, knitted .
to read and write after his eighteenth
year, as a ship carpenter in Boston.--
William Gifford, the great editoilaf the
Quarterly, was an apprentice to a shoe.
maker, and spent his leisure hours in ,
study: And because die had neitherpen
nor-paper, slate not pencil, he wrote out
hisyroblems on smooth leather with a
blunt 'awl. , David Rittenhouse, the Arne.
rican Astronomer, when a plough boy,
was observed to have covered his plough
and fences, with figures and Calculations.
James Ferguson; the great Scotch astro,
nomer, learned to .sead,by, himself, and
mastered the elements of astronomy
whilst :a shepherd's boy in the fields by
night. And, perhaps, it is not toomuch
to say, that if hours wasted in idle com
pany, in' vain conversation, at the tavern,
were only spent in pursuit; of useful
knowledge, the dullest apprentice in any
one of shops might becoine an intel
ligent member of society, and 'a fit person.
for most or bur civil offices. By such a ,
course, ' the rough covering of many a /
youth might be l&d aside ; and then (
ideas instead of being confined to local
subjects . and, professional technicalities,
might range throughout the widelields
of creation ; and other stars m the
young men of this city mig be added
stars
to the list of worthies That ' 'gilding bur
country withbright yet ellow light.- - ..
Rev. 1)r. Mrirry. .- .
• The 'Weak
' The working I
mechanics and r
warks. Th , -
nation. Wlr
boring m P.
and a
the fo, I •
L 77
buildr
alAr
I,di'
lug Nan. •
A
Jen of this land—The
laborers—pare its but-
are the vetx, salt .of, the
no does not respect the . la
a—the man with a itard
honest heart, whose 'toil lays
Atidation of our prosperity' and
a up the monuments Of our nation,
Teatness ? . Our fields which' teem
iiih verdure, or are crowned with gold
en,grain—out temples of worship puha
ing their spires to heaven—our proud
ships that plow the ocean and ride buoy
ant upon the wave spreading their can
vass to every breeze, and flaunting the
i
pround pennon of liberty tawery ktime
—slow -the result of industry anK the
triumphs of skill. Without these - where
would be our boasted name—where
would be our distinction in the scale of.
nations ?Echo Echo answers where! How
much then, do we owe
,toThose whose
unWearied toil have
,rnised up Omits
emblems of our greatness? Wedo,not
appreciate to its lull extent the tever
enee due to them. Aye, there are even
those among us—your up-start preten
ders, who think that" dress makes the
man, the want of it the fellow"--yoni
things made / up of ruffles and broad
cloth, who shun the working man, with
his sleeves rolled up,_ as if dyne were
putamination in his Ouch I • Wh.o
up'their noses with ineffable contempt
when in his presenee,and seem to say,
with the fop in Hamlet:“ come not he.
tweet) the air and bur nobility.".
have seen' such effigies of humanity,
anil have wondered that Heaven had
'vouchsafed to them a spot on earth Iprge
'enough for the 'exhibition of, their con=
temptible antics.—Chester Republican.
QRiOINAL 1 4NECDOTE..-*-NOt . 11121'
years "ago a naafi appeared in 'eburt,
whether as plaintiff, defendant, or wit
ness'iradition:does not inform us. •136
this as it. may
.the following dialogoe
ensued ;_ • - -
Court--What is yOUr mne. air. ,
liniwer.— , Myname is Knott Martin.
your honor.
C. - Well, what is it? . •
It i 8 Knot Martin. - • - •
C. Not Martin," again! We dourit
atik you what your name is not. but it
is. No contempt of OQUrt, Sir! -
If your hortor 'wilt give me leave
spell iny,nanie.-,
C. - Well spell it;
K n o doublet, Knott; qtr a r. mar
i-11, Martirtlinott Menlo.
-.C. - 0; very Mr. Martin, ,we,
see, tbrougb itnow f ; but it IS' one, of
most knotty cases we have hatrbefoie
ins :for some titne.-- ; Yeerturn' 'B' Gat.
WOO 002