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BY W. BLAIR.
1011 E, SWEET' 11031 E."
BY JOHN HOWARD RAYNE,
[Let every person learn and sing Bohn
_ Howard Payne's beautiful song of "Home,
.Sweet Home." Most persons know the
tune, but how few the words. The author
of them never had a home, and died in a
—foreign-land, but his song has made his
'rid pleasures and palaces though we may
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like
A. charm from the skies seems to hallow us
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er
met with elsewhere,
Home! home! sweet, sweet home,
'There's no place like home: there's no
place like home.
An exile from home, splendor dazzles in
The birds singing gaily, that came at my
Give me 'them, with the peace of mind,
dearer thaii all.
Home! home ! sweet, sweet home !
There's no place like home; there's no
place like home.
How sweet 'tie to sit, 'neath a fond father's
And the cares of a mother to sooth and be
Let others delight 'mid new pleasures to
But give me, oh ! give me the pleasures of
Home 1 home! sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home; there's no
place like home.
To these I'll return, over-burdened with
The hearth dearest solace will smile on me
No more from that cottage again will I
Be it ever so humble there's no place like
„Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home!
There's no place •like home; theres , no
places ake home.
CASH AID CREDIT.
George Brown, at the age of twenty
three took him a wife,—or, rather, he and
Hattie took one another—for better, or
for worse. But they knew it was going
to be better always, and never for worse.—
How could it be otherwise, when they un
derstood each other so well ? They had
Married young, and they had but little of
this world's goods to commence with ; but
they had health and strength, and they
were going to work together and build
them up a home of their own In time.
"We will be very saving;" said Hattie,
"and in the end we may reach the goal."
The goal was the home which they were
to own. "We shall not scrimp, nor deny
ourselves of necessary comforts ; but we
will do without luxuries. By thus econ
omizing in the morning, we may find a
stone to spare in the evening. Money is
like time. . An hour gained in the early
day is h great thing, while ma hour lost
my not be regained.
lieorge saw and understood, and he was
as eager as was his wife. • He determined
to put all his energies into the work, and
in the future he was foreshadowed• prom
ises riii4 bright. He had taken of his
uncle a small house which he was to' pay
for when lie could. He had no doubt that
he should be able to pay two hundred dol
lar., a year on it, at which rate, his kind
relative had offered the bargain, the prop
erty. would be his in six years.
"George," said Hattie, one evening, at
the tea-table, "What did you pay for this
INTela — seJlattie, o:Mlli . now. I don't
believe I - asked."
"What !,.Did not ask."
"No. .1 have every confidence in Mr.
Skidd. He is to perfectly honorable man."
"But did you not pay for it ?"
"No. I have opened an account these."
Hattie shook her bead disapprovingly.
George saw the motion, and went on
"You know I am paid monthly, and I
thought it would be just as well to keep a
monthly account at the store. Mr. Skidd
himself, preferred that plan.
"I can see very readily why Mr. Skidd
should prefer said his wife, with a sig
nificant smile. "In the first place, he knows
that you are industrious, steady, acid hon
orable man, and that whatever you owe
you will surely pay. He knows that."
George vas flattered, but he felt that
his wife had spoken no more than the truth.
"And,' pursued Hattie, "he knows one
thing. He knows that you will buy more
,on credit than you would for cash."
George made a deprecatory motion,but
his wife continued:
"Mr. Skidd knows. He is old in the
• business. Over his good customers, who
open monthly accounts upon his ledger,
he has decided advantages. Ile can per-
suade them to buy what they would not
- buy if they had to pay the cash down ;
and, where they are to have credit—where
a trader is to have the extra labor and ex
pense of entering and posting each' sepa
rate article, and, in the end, of making a
fall bill of items—the buyer cannot with
good conscience demand reduction from
George smiled,'and said he thought his
wife was mistaken. He was sure he was
doing well. It would be inconvenient to
pay for each little article as he ordered it.
And, furthermore, it would be handier to
settle his store bills when his employers
settle with him.
Hattie did not press the matter. She
had brought the subject upon the tapis,
and she was willing to await the develop.
ment of events.
"By the way, Mr. Brown, do you not
want a box of these figs ? They are fresh,
—l'll warrant them—and by the box I
will put them cheap."
So spoke Mr. Skidd the store-keeper.
George knew that his ivife was very
fond of figs; and he loved them himself.
And he finallY consented that a box should
be sent to,. him.
On another day Mr. Skidd said :
"Ah, Brown, my dear fellow, have you
tried tis golden syrup?"
George had not tried the syrup. The
liestAfficiffa molasses had hitherto an
swered him. But he was pursuaded to try it.
On another day :
"Look here, Brown, shall I send you
ozen_af these Messina oran _es ? A
new cargo jifsTilf. — You won't get em.so
cheap again.—Only thirty cents."
Only thirty cents ! And George knew
how fond•Hatlie was of oranges. Of course
he would have them.
And so the days passed on, and the
month came to an end. George Brown
was paid by his employers, and he set at
once about paying others. On his way
home he stopped in and got Mr. Skidd's
"You can take it and look it over,"said
the trader, with a patronizing smile. 'You
will find it all right."
George had entered to pay the bill then
and there ; but when he saw the long col
umn of figures, and glanced his eye at
the sum total, his heartleaped up into his
mouth. He was asoUnded. He had thought
to himself .as he had come along, that
Skiild's bill would be about twelve to fif
teen dollars. After paying every thing else
he would have twenty dollars left, which
would satisfy this last demand and leave
He had just commenced housekeeping,
and did not expect to save much at first.
But, mercy 1 how his anticipations were
necked in pieces as he looked at this bill.
He told Skidd he guessed he would look
it over ; and on liis way homeward he ex
amined it; but he could find n thing wrong
—nothing wrong in the items—but the sum
total was a poser; twenty-six dollars and
forty-two cents !
For a, long time after he had reached
home he trie to convince Hattie that
nothing was the matter with him; but at
length he plucked up courage, and drew
forth Skidd's bill. He had expected that
his wife would be paralyzed. But on the
contrary, she only smiled and said it was
"All right !" echoed George. •
"All right," so far as Mr. 6kidd is con
cerned," said Hattie. "You remember
what I told you once before, and now let's
sit down and eat supper, and then we will
look the matter over."
And after supper they went at the work.
Hattie took the bill, and a piece of blank
paper, and followed the items down with
"First," she said, "is a box of figs, at
fifteen cents a pound. It was very cheap
no doubt ; but the eight pounds came to
a dollar and twenty-five cents. Had you
been required to pay cash, you would not
have bought them. You would, at, least,
have asked me if I liked them, and I
should have told you, no. Next we have
a gallon of golden syrup, which we did
not need, and for which you would not
have paid cash without consulting me."
And so she went on, and at the end she
had cut down the bill, by throwing out
articles which they had not absolutely
needed, to less than fifteen dollars.
A dollar •here did not seem much to
George; and a dollar and a half there ;
and then seventyfive cents; and then on
ly fifty cents ; but there had been twenty
visits to the store during the past month,
and the aggregate of these trivial sums
George saw the whole thing, arid he
knew that his wife had been right from
"Don' say a won]," he said. "I see
the mistake. .But I'll have to work around
in the right track by degrees."
"How so, George ?"
"Why I haven't Looney enough left of
my month's wages to pay this bill ; so I
shall be utterly unable to enter upon the
cash principle at present.
"There need be no difficulty in that di
rection," said Hattie. "I have not spent
quite all my little capital. I had already
fixed it for a bit of nest egg ; and I don't
know that it could be put to a better use
than the laying of a foundation for cash
payments. At any rate, George, let us
try it for a while."
" George kissed his wife and said she was
a blessing ; and he promised that he would
fbllowed her advice in the future. He
took the money which she had to give,and
held it as a loan, which he•was to return
at the earliest possible moment ; and he
felt an ambition, too, to see how speedily
he could do it.
And on Monday morning the new rule
of life went into operation. George paid
Mr. Skidd's b.ll, and told him that here
after he should pay cash for everything he
bought. The store keeper pooh-poo'd, and
said there was no need , of it.
"Bless you, my boy, I had as leave trust
you as not,"
,Tioirwic , i.Avb-)4,11 4Di :ter, opvtili hi >0 lilt,. ft 1 / 2 0 )0 k'Nl4 Vir ;_ 4 l 0 1: 1 1 ifiz% PIO, )0 0 1 )0 :cXII tioi,4-411*C41
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, NAY 9, 1872.
6 'l . do not doubt it, Mr. Skidd, but I
prefer not to be trusted. I would rather
consume my own groceries than to con
sume yours. A bill is an evil at best, and
I don't choose to have evils growing on
my bands if I cab help it."
Mr. Skidd saw very plainly that his
customer's vision was clear, and he said
' On the evening of that very Monday,
Mr. Skidd exhibited to George some ex
tra nice preserves, and the young man's
first impulse was to order a pot of them ;
but the taking out of his wallet, and the
breaking of a five-dollar bill was a pal
pable reminder ; and he concluded that
he could get along without them. Said
he to himself:
"These seemingly trivial sums, if I save
them, will, at the end of the month, add
up as greatly in my favor as they have
heretofore added against me."
And he found it so. And he found one
thing more in his favor from cash pay—
ments which he had not particularly coun
ted upon. As lie had the money in his
hand to pay for the articles he had plan
ned to purchase, he could buy it where he
could get it best and cheapest. Traders
are to lose cash customers; and
is ,we write against intemperance.
Health is too precious to be wasted. Maki
hood is too noble to be thrown into t e
gutter. Life is too sweet to be drugged
with the poisons now compounded and
sold as liquors. To drink poison may be
social, but it costs too much for us, or
for any man of sense who loves himself
or others. Who of our readers dare
think of the matter and act as their bet
ter judgement shall dictate,
The latter part of a wise man's life is tak
en ip in curing the follies, prejudices and
false opinions he has contracted in the
Care to our coffin adds a nail, no
doubt. And every grin, so merry, draws
Nearly all beginnings are difficult and
poot. At the opening of the hunt the
Whenever you buy or sell, let, or hire,
make a elear bargain, and never trust to
"We shan't disagree about trifles."
It is supposed that forts-seven persons
die every minute of the day and night,
reckoning for all parts of the world.
A goad man loves little children. \
A West Virginia Doctor.!
The major ptesented me to Doctor Did
iwick, a red-headed, stuttering, eccentric
individual, who was going up towards
Yeokem's on a professional tour, and
would ride with us. This was fortunate
as the road we contemplated traveling
was very obscure and difficult, and the
country not an agreeable one to get lost
The doctor also counseled us to pro
vide againSt all contiigencies on to-mor
row's journey; so we ordered our hostess
to have prepared a ham, a sack of bis
cuit, and some bottles of cold tea, this
last, by the way ; a most excellent bever
age for way-faring people:
After supper, hearing a mighty and
continuous thumping in the direction of
kitchen, I thought it advisable to look in
and give some special directions about
the biscuit, which should be well beaten
and thoroughly baked to prevent their
Opening a door, I stepped out on the
back porch, and, to my astonishment,
caught the doctor pelting and pounding
at -a-batch-of dough. The dough looked
rather dark to be sure, and the doctor
-hey embarrassed ; but, not to be cer,-
lions, I said.
Illy doctor, this is very considerate
at to make the biscuit for us your
dc. I'm making blue pills for my
cents to-morrow.' r
`ln the name of Msculapius, how ma
do you make at a timer
vh; said he, a p p p peek, more or less.
Lice in these mountains is different
your city practice. I make my
Is only once a month, and it takes a
's riding to get through, so that I
to provision a whole district to last
I come again.'
• the morning we were on the road
aes, all in fine spirits except Cockney,
was a little sore from yesterday's ride,
did his best not to mind it.
couutry was wild and rugged e
-h, but more populous than we had
tined, The doctor called at every
, and at his familiar halloo the in-
A :az, from the hobbling centenarian to
the toddlingyearling, flocked out to
him, He inquired after their web
physical and moral, in a most kind
fatherly manner, naming such as had
ailing at his last visit. .
7aving audited all their complaints,he
ild leave one or two tea-cupfuls of pills
ride on. Sometimes he took the trou
to dismoun*nd enter the cabin ofsome
lriden palil4:t4t, others he would simp
inquire coneevaing,a family living far
in the woos:l4:4lnd leave a measure
ills to be sent over next Sunday. Oc-
mally he bad the luck to meet a cus
„,:r on the road, and deliver his month
allowance on the Spot. The doctor was
idently honored and beloved , by the
Ile country, and consulted on all ques
ts that arose, in law, agriculture or pol
!s. He was a sturdy Democrat,and dis
_wed gratuitous opinions on the subject
freely as he did blue-pills. He stutter
sarcastically against medical quacks,
thought the laws were not sufficient
severe against them. Some years ago
so-called herb doctor came poaching up
his domain, and was a great grief Of
'to him. The fellow was civil and
aldn't quarrel, but seeretlrundernain
the regular practitioder, was getting
his patients, and ruining the health of
The inteirloper bad two weakness—he
fond of backgammon, and hated the
ke.s. Didiwick — cared no more for snakes
xi he did for fishing Worms,. se he took
opportunities to bedevil his rival with
tetical jokes in whieh serpents played
One day he challenged the herb doctor
a game of backgammon. Pleased with
e unusual civility, he accepted, and sea
himself at the table where the box lay
osed before him. The tavern loungers,
vare that something was up, gathered /
'and to witness the game.
"Set the board, doctor, said Didwick,
file I go to order two juleps:'--
'hedoctor opened the board, and. a six
tot black-snake leaped out into his face.
fled, and returned no more.
"And so I got rid of the cussed hote
ls: before he killed offmy whole district."
"oarE CRAYON, in Halper'.9 Magazine.
When many years have rolled away—
When we no more are young;
When many voices may repeat
The songs that we have sung;
'When all thy youthful beauty pales,
Which time will not restore,
Some tender thoughts may come again
Of days that are no more.
The soul but slumbers'to awake
Alike to joy and pain ;
And every holy thought and dream
Are sure to come again;
The youthful heart h umnarried by care
But dreams of days before ;
The old heart lives on memories
Of days that are no more.
There is a phantom world to come,
Whose gateway is the tomb,
Where voices will be heard again
Beyond the hidden gloom.
'Where shapes and shadows of the past
Within the bon] will stay •
'When human hearts and human plans
Have crumbled to decay.
And then when years have rolled away,
And we no more are young;
'When other voices may repeat
The songs that we have sung ;
When heavenly sunshine on the soul
---The-be auty - inay-restore,--
Some_tender thoughts will come
Of days that are no more.
Mr. Lincoln's Merciful Acts.
Col. Forney tells the following in the
Washington Sunday "Chronicle," among
his interesting 'Anecdotes of Public Mem'
"While I was secretary of the Senate
there was scarcely au hour during any
da that I was not called u )on to hel
somebody who bad friends or kindred in
the army, or had business in the depart
ments; or was anxious to get some poor fel
low out of the Old Capitol Prison. 'These
constant appeals were incessant demands
upon the time of a very busy man, but a
labor for love, and I am glad to remem
ber that I never undertook it reluctantly.
One da an energetic lady called on me
to take - ber to the President and aid her
to get a private soldier pardoned, who had
been sentenced to death for desertion;and
who was to be shot the very next morn
ing: We were much pressed in the Sen
ate, and she had to wait a long time be
tore I could accompany her to the White
House. It was in the afternoon when we
got there, and the Cabinet was still at ses
sion. I sent in my name for Mr. Lincoln,
and he came out evidently in profound
thought and full of some great subject.—
I stated the object of our call, and leav
ing the lady in one of the ante-chambers,
returned to the Senate which had not yet
adjourned. The case had made a deep in).-
wession on me, but I forget it in the ex
, citement of the debate and the work of
my office, until perhaps near 10 o'clock
that night, when my female friend came
rushing . into my room, radient with de
light, with the pardon in her hand. "I
,have been up there ever since." she said.
"The Cabinet adjourned, and I set wait
ing for the President to come out and tell
me the fact of my poor soldier, whose case
I placed in his hand after. you left but I
waited in vain-there was no Mr. Lincoln.
So I thought I would go .up to the clam
ber of his Cabinet and knock. I, did so;
'and, as there was no answer, I .opened it
and passed in, and there was the worn
President asleep, with his head ,on the ta
ble resting on his arms, and my boy's par
don atlis side. I quietly waked him, bles
sed hini for his good deed, and come to
tell you the glorious news. You have
helped me to save a human life."
This is the material if not for solemn
history at least for those better 'lessons
which speak to us from the lives of the
just and pure.
colding is mostly' a habit. There
not well meaning to it It is often '
rest of nervousness and an irritable
dition .f both mind and body. A
is tire, - annoyed at some trivial
and with co mences findi-
It is ast4
n•es.in it ,
Ii is an.
of peolding a
ceSinfto a famii .
a s tart time, to
"he - people
'lto the '
- )se it
, and di
I.act the: bila
-inen. This may
'more in the hous
. and 4 ' atmosphere, ye
leTnervot. '7m and the h
.leild; and it may be partly
sensitiveness is more easily wourm
omen are sometimes called divin
it a scolding woman never seems divine.
.t we will say no more on the subjeit,,,..
r,sorne pretty creature way feel inchned 1
scold for, what we say about scold- 1
' -,.. /
MS HAT ARE NO !ORE.
"A thousand pardons!" said the dis
corntitted youth, moving away.
But a few nights afterward, at another
reception, his eye wa.s similarly caught,
and the edge, of his mortification having
been worn off, he could smile at his mis
take, and he accordingly made his way
once more to the side of
.noughts with_gray mutton whiskers.
it very easi
v 'soon or
ding fault p „.
le others are
lnd a very
.1 . 1 people
A good story is told in Washington of
a genial young gentleman, unwilling to
omit recognition of acquaintance, who, at
a wedding reception, lately caught sight
of a gray-whiskered, and rather stately
person, and being satisfied by inquiry of
his identity, immediately edged along to
"Goodoevening," said he, extending his
hand with cordiality. "I'm delighted to
see you! I believe we haven't met since
we parted in Mexico."
"I really fear," said the gray-whiskered
magnate, "that you have me at an advan
"Why you dont recollect! But then I
was very much younger," said the other,
"when with my father in Mexico."
"And to tell the truth," said the other
gentleman, "my remembrances of ever
having been in Mexico are very indis
"Excuse the question," said the young
man, rather desperh.tely, "are you nor Sir
"By no means. lam Judge Poland,
word or two on the weather and the
scene, he suddenly said:
'"That was an awkward thing of me the
other night, when I took you for old
"And who do von take me for sow,
may I ask ?" said his companion.
"Why—why," said the embarrassed
young man of society—"you told me you
were Judge Poland, of
"On the contrary, my name is Thorn
ton," was the rather annihilating rgsponse;
and the young man at this day calls it a
case of diabolic duality.
We know, of course, that Ireland is
called the "Emerald Isle," and the cold
of the emerald is green ; but never had
it entered into our imagination that there
was anywhere in this world to be seen
such verdure as it charmed our eyes to
look upon in the rural districts of Ire
land. The slopes, the knolls, the dells,
fields of young grain, over which the
breezes creep like playful spirits of the
beautiful; the pasture`, dotted with white
sheep of the purest wool ; the hillsides
rising up into mist-shrouded mountains,
and all covered with thick carpets of
smooth, velvet green. ' But Ireland
should also be called Flowery Isle. There
is not a sput in Ireland, I believe, where
blessed nature can find au excuse for
putting a flower but she has put one—not
only in the gardens and in the meadows,
but upon the very walls and the crags of
the sea, from the great blooming rhodo
dendrons down to the smallest flower
that modestly peeps forth from its grassy
cover. The Irish furze, so richly yellow,
covers all places that might otherwise be
bare or barren ; the silkworm delights
evreywhere, from thousands of trees, to
drop its "web of gold ;" the blooming
hawthorn, with the sweet scented pink, -
and especially the white variety, adorns
the landscape and the gardens ; wall
flowers of every hue and variety clamber
to hide the harshness of the moral sup
ports ; the beeted cliffs of the North Sea
are fringed and softened with lovely
flowers ; and if you kneel anywhere al
most on the yielding, velvety carpet, you
will find little, well nigh invisible flowrets
—red, white, blue, and yellow—wrought
into the very. woof and texture. Ireland
ought to be called the Beautiful Isle.—
The spirit °Me beautiful hovers over
andifouehesf. to' living loyliness; every
point.—Fall Mall Gazette.
Continent Covered with Ice.
Prof. Agassia comes to the conclusion
that the continent of North America was
i,noe covered with ice for a mile in thick-
ess, thereby agreeing with Prof. Hitch=
Beck and other eminent geological writers
concerning the glacial period: In proof
cif this conclusion, he says that the slopes
Of the Alleghany range of mountains are
.glacier-worn to the very top, except 'a
few points which were above the level of
the icy mass... Mount Washington, for
nstance, Ls'Ver,sta thousand feet high,
:And, the mitt* unpolished surface of its
summit, covered with loose fragments,
; just below the level of which glacier-mirks
come to an end, tells that it lifted its
head alone above the desolate waste of
ice and snow.
a it and
• In this region, then, the thickness of
the ice cannot lave been much less than
his thousand feet, awl. this is in keeping
with the same kind Of 'eVidence in other
parts tf the country ; for when the moun
tains are much below six thousancl feet,
the ice seems to have passed directly o
ver them, which the few peaks
. thing to
that 'height are left untouchig. The
glacier, he argues, was God's gnltt plough
and when the ice vanished . ii•om the face
of the:land, it left it prepared for the hand
of the husbandman.
The hard surface of the rocks were
ground to powder, the elements of the
soil were mingled in fair proportions,
granite was carried into lime regions,
lime was mingled with the more arid and
*productive granite districts, and a soil
was prepared fit for the, agricultural uses
, of mau. There are evidences al l• over the
f.)l.tir, regions to show that at one period
:the heat of the tropics extended all over
The ice period is supposed•Xo• be long
lhsequent to this, and next to' the last
• fiTere the advAit of moo. •-•
it and 3umor.
What people can never live long, nor
wear great long coats? Dwarfs.
What most resembles a horse's shoe?-
4 . mare's shoe.
All that is required to get, up keit, is
three blockheads a pint of ruul. '
Why is counterfeit money like a drink.
ing saloon? Because it is hard to pass. ,/
A man being threatend with an amult
by 13 tailors, cried out, "come on both of
The latest invention out is a new,feAt
for tailors,. to obviate the necessity for
Ben, how is your sweet heart getting
along? "Pretty well, I guess ? shesays
needn't call any more. "
Why is the figure nine like a tea
cock ? Because it's nothing without it'4
In North Carolina the lightnino• b struck
a barn and koneked over two darkeys ;
one of theinierambled up and exclaimed,
"who fire dat
and after a
"Ma, sa; f'ather's portrait torn?" asked a
ell so t ree summers. (--b-irct---wuy—
do you ask? "Why, this morning he said
darn my - pieture.'l
Why is an elephant unlike a. tree?—'
Because a tree leaves in the spring, and
the elephant lefties when the_ menagerie,
There-is-but-one-instance of a person --
interfering between man. and wife with
either safety or succus, and that person
thrashed them both.
A clergyman asked his pupils, - whether
"the leopard could change his spots?"—
"To be sure," replied Billy, "when he gets
tired of one -spot he goes to another.'
Mr. Baker showed us an egg which was
seven inches in circumference. Can any
body beat this.—Exchange.
Certainly. Brake the egg into a bowl,
and beat it with a spoon.
"Mamma," cried a little girl, rush
ing into the room, "why am I like a tree?"
Mamma could not guess, when the little
one exclaimed, "Because I have limbs,
An excellent old deacon, who having
won a fine turkey at a charity raffle, didn't
like to tell his severe orthodox wife how
he came 'by it, quietly remarked as he
handed her the fowl, that the "Shakers"
gave it to him.
Cleveland has invented aatent bug
buster, worked with an air pum p . All
the apertures in a room are stopped but
one, at which the deadly bug-buster is
placed. By exhaustion. b the receiver a
current of air is produced strong enough
to thaw all the vermin out of the room
through the air pump, into the hopper,
where they are put under the influence of
chloroform and stabbed in the back with
During our late war there was a youag
man in the army who did not join of his
own free will. He had been drafted.—
He was a brave young man ' • quite the
otherwise. One day during a bloody bat
tle, our young friend showed such a
large white feather that the captain was
obliged to threaten him with his pistol
in •order to keep him from running away
altogether. Then the youth began to
cry. "You ought to be ashamed of your
self," said the captain ; you're no better
than a baby." "I wish I. was—a—baby
"blubbered our hero, "an' a gal baby at
The character of the Indian, the ma
jesty of the forest in which he lives, free
from all restraints of civilization, natur
ally inspire the mind with poetic concep
tions when pondering on his race and des
tiny. At least an effect seemg to have
been produced on - Mr. Bancroft, our
Minister at London, if we may jiidge
from the following beautiful description
which he has given of the Indian mother
and her babe :
"How helpless the Indian babe born
without shelter, amidst storms and ice;
but fear nothing for God has placed him
a guardian ange, that can triumph over
the severities of nature; the sentiment
of maternity is by his ride, and so • long
as his mother breathes he is safe. The
squaw loves her child with iittinetive
passion and if she does not manifest it by
lively caresses, her tenderness is rent,
wakeful and constant. No savage moth
er ever trusted her babe to a hireling
nurse, nor even put away her oun child
to suckle that of another. To the cradle
consisting of light wood and gaily orna
mented with the quills of the porcupine
and beads, and rattles,. the nutsling is
firmly attached, and carefully wrapped,
iu furs ;Vaud the inthnt thus watched, its
back to the mother's buck, is borne as the
topmost burden, its eyes now cheerfully,
flashilig light, now SlCCOMpallyillg with,
tears the wailing which the plandiVentel
odies of the curler cannot hush. (1r;
while the squaw toils in the field, she
hangs her child, as,spring does her blos
crams oft the bough of a tree, that, it may
be rocked by the breezes from the land
of souls. and soothed to fleep by the lul
lably of the birds'. Does the mother die
—such is Indian compassiou— the nurs
ling shares • her grave.
$2,00 PER YEAR