Terms of Publication. THE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pub lisbed every Thursday Morning, and mailed to sub- .OriwmVWrtfet HriW tjftOaa -pot, LAS per annum, ten paces from her sine, were seven loaded rifles and a keg o poive. Leaning from ltie casemenl, she listened wi;n every nerve quivering with suspense, to me snouts of combatants and the hurried tread of armed men, ecnoing from the south. There was something very beautiful in mat pictu’e The form of the young girl, named in the square massive windows—the rontrast between me rough timbers that en closed her and 'hat rounded face, the lips parting, tfic hazei eye dilating, the cheeks (lushed with nope and fear; and there was something very beautiful in that picture —a voung girl leaning from tne window of an old mansion, with her brown hair waving in glossy masses around tier face Suddenly the shouts to the south grow nearer, and then emerging from the deep hol low, tiiete came an old man, running at full speed turning round To tire a rifle, which he loaded as tie ran. Ho was pursued by a parly 0' ten British soldiers, who came rushing on, with bayonets fixed, ns if to strike their vic um down ere he advanced ten paces nearer me Houst- on and on the old man came, while his daughter, quivering with suspense, hung lean mg from the window He reaches the block house gale—look 1 He is surrounded—their muskets are leveled at his head, he is down at their feet grappling for his life 1 But look again 1 he dashes aside his foes—with one bom movement he springs through the gate — “i instant, and it is locked. The British soiaicrs, mad with rage, gaze upon the mgs and stone, and vent their anger in drun- Mm curses -Now took to yonder window I where the young gin stood a minute ago, quivering with suspense, as sue beheld her father struggling tor his iue, now stands the old man himself, nts orow oared, his hands grasping the rifle, won ms gray n.nrs waving back from his wrinkled and btood-spriokled face! That was s nne picture of an old- veteran, nerved for 1115 last fight—a stout warrior, preparin'* for ins neath struggle, ° Learn struggle.? Yes, for the old man, isaac Walpole, had dealt 100 many hard blows among the British soldiers—tricked, toiled, cheated them 100 often to escape now ; A few moments longer and they would be re inforced by a strong parly of refugees. The Powder, the arms in the old block house— Pernaps that daughter herself was to be their reward. There was scarcely n hope for the oio man, and yet he had determined to make 6 Desperate fight. “We must bluff off these rascals!” he ow wnh a grim smile, turning to his daugh “ Now Bess, my gin, when I fire this >' ou n ‘o anutner, aim so on, till COBB, STURROCK & CO., VOL. 3. For The Agitator. the whole eight shots arefirtd —that will kcep ihem on the other side of the wajl for,a few. momenta, at least and then tye will have to trust tp'God for thq rest,! 1 ’ ~ Look clown (here and see a band stealjng Over the edge of the wall. Thp ojd man lev els his piece—that Briiish trooper, fulls back with a cr.ushed hand upon his comrades’ heads. No longer quivering with suspense, but suddenly grown firm, the young girl passes a loaded rifle to the veteran’s grasp, and si lently awaits the result. For a moment all is silent below, the British bravos are some what loath to try that wall, when a stout old rebel, rifle in hand, is looking from yonder window. There is a pause—low, deep mur murs—they are bolding a council. A mo ment passes, and nine heads are thrust above the wall at once. Hark ! the old veteran has fired three shots; there are three dying men groveling in the yard, beneath the shadow of the wall. vinomA. “ Quick, Bess the rifles!” And the brave girl passes the rifles to her father. There are four shots, one after the other; three more soldiers fall back like weights of lead upon (he ground, and a single red-coal is seen, slowly mounting on the lop of the wall, his eyes fixed upon the hall door, which he will force ere a moment is gone. Now the last ball is fired, the old man stands there, in that second story window, his hands vainly grasping for another loaded rifle. At this moment the wounded parly be low are joined by a party of some twenty re fugees, who, clad intjieir half-robber uniform came rushing from the woods, and with one bound are leaping from the summit of the wall. “ Quick, Bess, my rifle!’’ And look there—even while the veteran stood looking out upon his foes, the brave girl—for slender in form and wildly beautiful in face, she is a brave girl, a hero woman, had managed, as if in an instinctive impulse, to load a rifle. She handefd it to her father, and then loaded another and another. Was not that a beautiful sight? A fair young girl, grasping powder and ball, with a ramrod ri sing and falling in her slender fingers. Now look down to the wall again. The refugees are clambering over its summit; again a horrid cry, and another wounded man is toppling down upon his dead and dying comrades. But now look I A smoke rises there, a fire blazes around the wall; they have fired the gate. A moment, and the bolt and the lock will be burnt from their sockeis ; the passage will be free. Now is the fiery moment of Ibo otd irmn’a trim, svimu. loads, he continues to fire with that deadly aim ; and now, oh horror! be fulls, he falls, with a musket ball driven into his bregst— the daughter's outstretched arms receive the father, os, with the blood spouting from the wound, he topples back from the window. Ah, it is a sad and terrible picture I The old man, writhing there on the oaken floor, the young daughter bending over him, the light from the window streaming over her, face, over her father’s gray hairs, while the ancient furniture of (he small chamber affords a dim back ground to the scene. Hark ! the sound of axes at the hall door— shouts, curses, hurrahs! “ Wo have the old rebel at last 1" The old man raises his head at the sound; makes an effort to rise, clutches for a rifle and then falls buck again, his eyes glaring as the fierce pain of that wound quivers through his heart. Now watch (he movements of that daugh ter. Silently she loads a rifle, silently she rests its barrel on the head of that powder keg, aod then placing her finger on the trig ger stands over her father’s form, while the shouts of Ihe enraged soldiers came thunder ing from the stairs. Yes, they have broken the hall door to fragments, they are in pos session of the old block-house, they are rush ing towards that chamber, with murder in their hearts and in their glaring eyes. Had the old man a thousand lives they were not worth a farthing’s purchase now. Still, that girl, grown suddenly white as the handkerchief around her neck, stands there, trembling from head to fool, the ride in her hand, its dark lube laid against the powder keg. The door is burst open—look there I—stout forms ate in the doorway, with muskets in their hands ; grim faces, stained with blood, glare into the room. ■Now, as if her very soul was coined into the words, that young girl, wiih her face pale as ashes, her hazel eye glaring with deadly light utters this short yet meaning speech.: “ Advance oue step into the room, and 1 will fire this rifle into the powder (here ! I” No oath quivers upon the lips of that girl to confirm her resolution, but theie she stands alone with her wounded 1 father, and yet, nol a soldier dares cross the threshold. Imbrued as they are in deeds of blood, there is some thing terrible to these men in the words of that young girl, who stands there with the rifle laid against ihe powder keg. ■ They stood as if spell-bound, on the thresh old of that chamber. At last one bolder than Ihe rest, a bravo, whose face is half concealed’ in a (hick ted beard, grasped his musket and levele'd it at the young girl’s breast. Still the girl is firm; the bravo advances a Step, and then starts back. The sharp click of that rifle lock falls with a significant' and unpleasant emphasis upon his ear. “ Bess, I am dying,” gasps the old mod, faintly, extending his arras. “ Ha, ha, we foiled the Britishers! Come, daughter, knee) here—kneel aod say a prayerfor mb, and let me feel your warm breath upon my Tape, (or lam cold—oh, dark and coltj!’’ } «iv *y ■ ~•• J ' i . .i- u.l u>/ b iij I ' J 1 U- .1 -SJgga L”lJgilL< aeaotrg to grt»»g«m « W£LLSBOROWiI(, TIOGA COVSTY. PA., TIUrISIIM' MOftSVM/FMiaRY ?§. ISST.. ‘!,T“ b A? l ?,*™*** TOK'BEOlSftlHod* WttßOliP* !' a fc' * Look I as those accents Tall from the eld man’stoogne,. those: fiugerannlopse their told of:ihe rifler-Tftlready :tho are,,secure. of onavictim alleast; a, young and beautiful: giii; her affection for her father is mastering theharoism of the moment—look ! she is about to spring into hls arms'- "hut qqw'sKe' sees her danger;; agaih^lfe'dweh^StW rifle; again, although her father’s dying accents are in her ears, she stands there prepared to scal ier (hat house iq ruins, if a single rough hand assails (bat veteran form. There, are a few brief, terrible moments of suspense; then a hurried sdund far down (he mansion, (ben a coolest on the. stairs; then and built a good, fire and took nana of ouF.teajm and then gave uan very comiafiahla place> to sleep for .the night,, and we werealf thankful .that; wo had escapediiront'Black River Bulls, i which- id quite a-large 4owtr situated on the bank-of the Black -River,'-which is large enough to raft lumber from this-place to (he Mississippi, ...The country about js not niu.ch of a farming region, (ml the is, chiefly supported by the lumbering busiqqag, |K$ logs, being cut in the Pineries some 35 miles above -this place,-and run.down to this point to be manufactured.-Tha town is noted all.through this country for-its drunkenness .andiiowdv ism and is called the.worst place (morally) in Wisconsin; and I think not inaptly. On the next morning (Sunday) we again started on our journey through a rolling Prairie country to Beefßiver station, 22 miles distant, it being the next stopping place on the route. We passed through the Trumbe leau Valley and crossed -the stream by that name, which is very small at this point, as is also Bdef River where we crossed it. There is some good land along each of these streams, but between them there is not much worth having, as there Is no timber on it, and the land is not of the first quality. It snowed alj this forenoon, but not jvery last, and from this point to Hudson the snow averaged about 1 foot in depth.' Wo got dinner at Beef sia-' lion, and then journeyed on till after dark, when we found a House on the Prairie 13 miles from Beef River. It was a little bit of a thing, one story high, and in it lived a Dutchman, his wife, hired man and thirteen children ! Here we'proposed tostfiy'all night, for we could not find the road in the dark, and this was the only house for a number of miles each way ; so we crowded in—eight in number—and we soon had an addition of two mote benighted travellers like ourselves, and of course they must stay also. We could get no supper, but .made a bed on the floor with our Buffalo Robes, and-as many as could, laid down ; and after the floor was filled, there were yet four left standing—my self and Mr. Jones among the number. We got a ladder and crawled up through a trap door to the garret of this one story house;— There was -not room to sit up and undress, so we had to fie down to it, but we managed to get a very good night’s rest, lathe morning a question arose ns to how we were to gel our pants on in such a tight place; but after a season of consultation, Mr. Jones verified me saying that “ necesily is the mother ofiii vention,” for he conceived, tyid pul into exe cution the expedient of dropping nis paftls tltrogh Ihe trap door, and then dropping him self into them. By this means we soon got dressed and on our way. We could gel no breakfast until we got (o Eau Clare, (pro nounces signifies clear water,) a distance ofl2 miles, where wo -c,.^ 10 o'clock A. M. This morning we passed through the most beautiful country wo have yet seen., Eau Clare is the county seat of Eau Clare Co., and is situated on the banks of the-Chippewa River, iwojmiles below the falls where there is a large lumbering estab lishment andjsplendid water powers. The-logs are run down the Chippewa from some 25 miles above this point, where the whole coun try is said to be one extensive Pinery. { think tho lumber is not as good quality as we have in Pennsylvania. Eau Clare is upon the whole a desirable point—the Chippewa being navigable with steamboats up to this point, and the surround ing country wfing good for agricultural pur poses. The town is but six months old, and has two large taverns, a steam mill and sever al stores, shops, dwellings, &c., and is des tined no doubt to become a largo town in a very few years. But as I lack room to write more at presen', 1 will now close and resume at this point in my next communication. Yours affectionately Superior, Doug. Co. Wis. ) C. V. E. Dec. 20, '56. $ Economy op the Arts. —The horseshoe nails dropped in'lhe streets, carefully collected, reappear in the form of swords and guns.— The clippings of linker's shops, mixed with Ihe pairings of horses hoofs, or cast-off wool en garments, appear afterwards in the form of dyes of the brightest blue, in the dress of courtly dames. The bones of dead animals yield the chief constituents oflucifer matches —phosphorus. The dregs of port wine, carefully rejected by the poll wine drinker in decanting bis lavorite beverage;- are taken by him in the form ol'Seidlitz powders. The washings of coal gds reappear carefully pre served in the ladies’ smelling bofle as an ammoniacnl salt. Tijk Tmbee Piivsici,iss.— The celebra ted French physician Dummoulin, on his death-bed. when surrounded by the most dis tinguished citizens of Paris, who regretted the.loss which the profession would sustain in his death, said : “ My friends, [ leave be hind me three physicians much greater than myself.” Being pressed to name them, each of the doctors supposing himself to be one of the throe, he answered, "Water, exercise nnd Diet'" —[Adversity exasperates fools, dejects cow- out the faculties of (he wise and ingenious, puts the modest to the necessity of trying their skill, awes the opulent, and makes the idle-industrious. Much may .be said in favqr of adversity; but the worst of it ja it has no friend. Poetry.—lt is the gill of poetry to hallow every -place in which itmoves; to breathe rduhd nature an odormbreexquisite than the perfume of the rose, and to shed over it a tint more magic'al-than the blftStii of morning. .TpiEAno Aiq.—'Time, li|re sir, is invisi ble,.and o)U,st he estimated by ileuses uud ef-, fee}?, Rates of Advorllilnj.' Advertisements will In charged 91 per aqaare of .squate. d?ill *« l‘tt9tllhh;! V:■ r> ; 1000 ’ n 'lS 00 90 00 I'ootanliv, ; -30 00n • 40.00 - advarlifepfpptji opt i haring ,lhe pamber ofi in-. Mrt|oo*m ? tked qpop jljam, bq kept in, apt] j or •to? ouf,iißd clwrwid Accordingly* " BiH, I «!idXCtter Hea'ds.and all itiadi dpilehtiißg *ddne id eonnlry establishment*! u . promptly. ; Jii»i|se»V.Coiut*. b Ti *?? cpnaUoily on hand and printed Id order. . *• tini k ! s t J . tv ** ,a ,i KHaw .KOrJI. ' ■■ mi^atiinre. e |' :qamd in j})r .whatis of very frequent' crebtlr- ' -reica ifidrej a’ fire. Indeed, I Be- " Ijevp ih'af^ stprfn is said to teatways igoing on m some part of tlie sea/pp a poh- larger or smaller, Is pfways raging insomepaftof jhe narrow wooden Streets of Stambout. .. ’ ‘ pwpfe Wave few public amusements, and this is considered one of,the beat, if! may judge by the demeanor of the crowds, whose singular bearing Was to me more interesting : ihah the spectacle I witnessed in common with them. At first fknew not what it meant. 1 had observed that vast multitudes were mov ing with what, for a TWk, is haste, towards the court of one of their rposques, and sta tioning themselves' ns sqpn as ihey reached iti. ort the steps, balustrades, end every spot whence a view was commanded. Joining (he company, f discovered (lie cause of their assembly in a whole street ' from which ihe smoke was rising, and from which it was every moment expectsd that the flames would burst. Nothing could exceed alacrity of those wjto strug gled for a place in (he balconies, or the placid enjoyment of those who had attained one. In expectation of the great. event, piles of carpets, pillow's, and cushions had been al ready brought from the neighboring houses, and placed wherever room could be found. On these comfortable seats the multitude had established themselves—the men in one part, sedately smoking!; the women in another, now looking on, and now playing with (heir children. In a moment refreshments of all sorts were provided ; sweetmeats, confection ary, and sherbet, by a number of rival pur veyors, wjto advanced with 'unalarmed alac rity, amid'the smoke and falling spars, plain ly considering the scene of destruction a sort of 11 Benefit,” got up for their especial behoof' and unceremoniously elbowing to one side the police', who rushed, with pails of water on their heads, to the rescue of the bur'ning houses. In a few minutes more the flames burst out wiih a loud crash, mountain high into the heavens, and Hinging an exciting and pleas urable heal into the face of the crowds, who, without ever removing their pipes, (except to drink,) gazing with silent but impassioned in terest on a scene which, lothem, was npTmore a matter of surprise (han a street (Irpachec would be in Edinburgh, a “ Funziane” at Rome, or Punchinello at Naples. Among -1 the balm croWd- of‘ spectators were the pro prietors of the burning houses, smoking like their neighbors, and Well assured that their loss had been deteVmined by Allah long be fore the prophet was born. —De ' Verey Sketches. ' The Two Roads. —lt was New Year's, night. An aged man was standing at a win. dow. Uow mournfully raised his eyes, towards the deep blue shy, where the stars floating like. Ii I lies on the surface of a< clear calm lake. Then he cast them on the-earth, where few more helpless beings than himself were moving towards their inevitable goal— the tomb. Already he had past sixty of the singes which lead to if, and be had brought from his journey nothing but errors and re* morse. His health was destroyed, his mind unfurnished, his.heart sorrowful, and his old ago devoid of comfort. The days of his youth rose up hi a vision before him, and he recalled the solemn mo ment when his father had placed him at lha-. entrance of (wo roadsj one leading into a peaceful, sunny land, covered with soft, sweet songs ; while the other conducted the wan derer into a deep, dark cave whence there waa no-issue, where poison flowed instead of water, and where the serpents 'hissed and crawled. He looked towards the sky, and cried out, in his anguish :4-“ Oj youth, return! 0. my farther, place me once more at the cross wav of life, that.l-may choose the bettor road !” But the days ol his youth had passed away, and his parents were with the departed. He saw wandering lights float over dark marshes and then disapear. “ Such,’’ he said, “ were the days of my wasted life!’’ He saw a star shoot from heaven, and vanish in darkness athwart the church-yard. “ Behold an em blem of myself!” he exclaimed ; and tha sharp arrows of unavailing remorse struck him to (he heart. Then ho remembered his early company ions, who had cnleied life with him, but who,, having irod ihe paths of virtue and industry, were now happy and honored on this New Year’s night. The clock in the high church lower struck, and the sound falling on his ear recalled the many tokens of the love ofhia parents for him, their erring son ; the lessons they had taught him ; the prayers they bad offered up in his behalf. Overwhelmed with shame and grief, he dared no longer look towards that heaven whore they dwelt. His darkened eyes dropped tears, and with one desparing effort he cried aloud, “ Come back, my early days! Come back!’’ And h's youth did return; for all this had been But a dream, i visiting his slumbers on New Year’s night. Ho was still errors only were no dream. Ho tbalnk&l God fervently that lime was still his own } that he had not yet entered the deep, dark cavern, but that he was free to tread the road leading to the peaceful land where sunpy harvests wave. Ye who still live on Iho threshold of life, doubling, which path to choose, remember that when years' shall be passed, and you will cry bitterly, but cry in vaitl, *' 0, youth, return! ‘. 0, give me back iny early days!’’ -Etc AttK. —Happiness is a perfume that one cannot shed over another without a few drops fulling on lu.-’s tplf,