Term* off Publication.
I*flE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR w pob.
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ty, with a large and steadily increasing circulation
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doded,s4per year. -i .
TWENTY YEARS AGO .
“Think oft, yobrethren of-ycmthful prime,
It cometh not again—that golden time.”
rre wandered to the Tillage, Tom, Tve At "beneath-ihe ini,
Upon the achooUiouse play ground—that sheltered you .and
me; . - .
But none were there to grectnae, Tom, and few werelefl to
know,
That played with ua upon the grass Juat twenty years ago.
The grass is jnit os green, Tom, bare footed boys at play,
Were sporting Just mwo did, then, spirit* Just as gay ' i
But the master sleeps npon„the hfll, which coated o’er with
snow,
Afforded us a sliding place just twenty years ago.
The oldacfaool house U altered some, the benches are replaced
By new-ones, (Tory like the same our' pen knives had defaced:)
But the same old bricks wore in the wall, the bell swings to
and fro—
It’s music just the same, dear Tom, *twas twenty yean ago
Tbe boyi were playing some old game beneath the same old
tree,
I do forget the name jest now, (you’ro played the same with
On tfra* same spot) ’two* played with feoive* by throwing so
and so—
The loser had a task to do there twenty years agot
The river running just as still, the willows bn its side
Are larger than they were, Tom, the stream appears less wide:
Bat the grape vine swing is rained now where once we played
the beau,
And swung oar sweethearts, pretty girls, just twenty years
ago.
The spring that babbled near'tbe blit close by the spreading
beech.
Is very low; *twas once so high that we could almost reach—
And kneeling down to get a drink, dear Tom, I started so—
To see how mach that 1 am changed, since twenty years ago.
Near by the spring upon the elm, yon know 1 cat your name;
Your sweethearts Just beneath It, Tom, and yon did mine the
Some heartless-wretch had peeled the bark, ’twaa dying snre
but slow.
Just as the one whose was cut died Cwentyywaago. -
Uy lids have long been dry, Tom, bnt tears came in my eyes,
1 thought of her be Wvod so well, those early broken ties.
I visited the church yard and took some flbwcra to strew
Upon the graves of those wc loved some twenty, years ago.
Some are in the church-yard laid, some sleep beneath the sea,
And none are left of our old class excepting you and me.
And when onr time shall come, Tom; and we are called to go,
I hope they’ll Jay os where we played Just twenty yean ago!
HEAP GOALS OF FIRE.
“Therefore If thine enemy hanger, feed him, if he thirst,
give him drink; for la so doing thou shall heap coals of firo
on hi* head.”—Romans, 2O.
"Humph! they needn’t think they are so
much belter than we are !” exclaimed Annie
Montague.
“I hate the whole tribe; and I don’t care
what they do,” answered Eliza Moniague.
"I suppose they think wa shall feel badly
because they did not invite us to their grand
parly.”
“They gave the parly on purpose to ‘cut’
us. Who cares for them 1"
"Sure enough; I don’t for one.”
"Yes you do,” interposed Mr. Montague,
who sat at the fire reading the evening paper.
"I'm sure I don’t, father,” replied Annie
with a toss of the head.
“Why are you so petulant and angry
thenl”—asked Mr. Montague, with a smile
at the manifest inconsistency of his daughter.
“I am not. "wiry stiouia tue angry wiin
them?” )
“I don’t know why you should be ; only
that you are.”
“How absurd, father.”
“Very absurd, but I am sure the Capulct
family do not feel any more hardly towards
us itjan you towards them.”
“I think the Capuletsare mean, contempti
ble people; I am sure I do not care a
straw about them,” answered Annie, rather
“worked” to find that she had betrayed the
feeling of enmity she was anxious to conceal.
“You know they are the nabobs of the
street; that they are the leaders of fashion,
and you girls think a great deal of such
Ihings.”
“I thirf|k we are quite as respectable as
they are.’’
“So do 1 ; but you know the Capulets are
people who receive the homage of the world,
and to be out with them is almost equivalent
to being out with society,”
“I can’t see why they should “cut” us.
We have done nothing to offend.”
“Perhaps you have ; I met Capulet in the
street the other day, and he would not speak
to me, though you know; I used to do all his
law business.”
“I don’t understand it, father.”
“Haven’t you said something about them
that you ought not to have said 1”
“I am sure I have not.”
“Well, we have this consciousness, that we
have done nothing to injure them, and if they
choose to slight us, or even to ill-treat us, it
need not be our fault.
“But it was so mean, after, we had been
intimate so long, to pot such a public insult
on us ?” replied Eliza, with spirit. “I wish
1 had the means ol paying them off!”
“No, no, child ; try to cherish a Christian
spirit Eliza. “Love your enemies.”
‘fl am sure I cannot love the Capulets,
after what they have .done. They have
already set the whole neighborhood to talking
about us.”
“No matter for that.”
“After we have done so much for them
loo!” \
“What have we done I - ’ '
“Didn’t mother watch with Mrs. Capulet
when she had the typhus fever ? Didn’t
Eliza and I watch with her tool”
“Those are simple neighborly offices, that
should not be regarded with 100 much compla
cency. I dare say they have rendered us
similar offices a hundred limes.’’
“They never watched with us,”
“We have bad no occasion for their servi
ces in that capacity, tf we had, I doubt
not they would have been kind and neigh
borly,"
“I don't believe it.” ’ .
“I saw Tom Capulet in the omnibus to
day ; —he would hardly nod at me,” added
Annie.
One might suppose from her downcastloob
that there was a Romeo and Juliet in the case,
and that “the course of true love never did
run smooth,” It must be confessed that
Toni Capulet was exceedingly good-looking,
and Annie would not have been much to
blame if she bad consented to play Juliet to
his Romeo. ■ t
Mr. Montague u lawyer residing in
fHE AGITATOR.
•*f - *
•■■S i-M
i n
Zlefcbhi* to tije Sfftewfoii of ttje&waofJFm&om anatfce Samir of mnlttm 3Btfom
Yolu %:: ,
one of the suburban towns, but a few miles
fr6m 'As rriay have been inferred
Tromhitfcoftveraatibn with his'"daughters, he
'was dnr honest and just man, which may
account for his being no better off in the pos
session of-the goods of this world. The
income of his profession enabled him to live
in g6bd style, and to associate with the first
families in B——, which, everybody knows,
is rather an aristocratic place.
Holley street was the “West End” of the
place, and Montagee nnd[ Copulet lived in ap
petite ends of Holley street. It is true, the
mansion of the former .could not vie in state
liness and elegance with that <pf the latter
but in addition to this, and in spite of the
fact that Capulet was the wealthiest, and in
every respect the most distinguished man in
B , Ihe families lived oh terms of inti
macy amounting to friendship, to within a
few weeks of their jnlroduclion to Ihe reader.
Then, for some unexplained reason, the
“two houses" were estranged. The Capulets
firmly and persistently avoided their late
friends and companions. The Montagues
were astonished and indignant at the change.
They were not conscious that they had in
any manner injured their neighbors, either
by word or deed.
When the great parly was given at the
Capulets, given apparently for the sole pur
pose of cutting them", the measure of their
chagrin was full. Annie and Eliza were very
indignant, but their father was scarcely dis
concerted by the slight which had been put
upon them. He was a man of good sense,
and his experience taught him that these
things always correct themsel’-es when either
party refrains from aggravating the other.
When Mr.'Montague went home the fol
lowing evening,'his daughters had matured
a notable plot for bringing the Capulets to
their senses.;.
“We must have a party, ■ father,” said
Eliza, ns soon as be had removed bis over
coat.
“Yes, father—a great party.’ 5
“But [ cannot afford any such extrava
gance. If you wish to invite your friends
ond neighbors as we usually do, of course I
have no objection.”
“I don’t mean that, father. We want to
have a great party. We want some music,
a supper, and four black waiters—the Capu
lets only had three.”
“Pshaw! I shall have nothing of the
kind. 1 cannot afford it,”
“Bui we must have one, father. We are
gofng to invite all the neighbors, every re
epoolwlrW - |Mi>euis In tkw' violnUjt. owoopi lU*
Gapulels 1 Won’t it be grand! We shall
pay them off ! in their own coin, and teach
them that they cifßnol insult us with im
punity.”
“I have no desire to pay them off in their
own coin ; so I can permit no such parly as
you mention,” replied Mr. Moniague With
mild firmness.
“Only thick how they have treated us,
father.”
“That is no reason why you should treat
them badly.”
Both of the young ladies teased hina for
the next week tocarry out their grand idea ;
but he persisted in living up to his Christian
views of the matter.
Week after week and month after month
passed away and still there was no indications
of a reconciliation. With the single excep
tion of Mr. Montague, who invariably treated
the Capulets with courteous respect when ho
met any of them, none of the parties recog
nized each other. The Capulets could afford
to be exceedingly independent, and they were
so to the .utmost oT their capacity.
“I got a letter,” said Mr. Montague,
one day, when he returned home much earlier
than usual.
“From Mr. Capulet father T” asked Annie
who, for some reason or other, was more de
sirous than the rest of the family lor a recon
ciliation.
“No, Annie. It is from my uncle’s at
torney.”
“Uncle Ruel ?”
“Yes.”
“He lives inNew Orleans; an ugly old
bachelor, I have been told,” replied Eliza,
who had not much respect for old bachelors.
“He did live in New Orleans; he is dead
now.” * ‘|
“Dead?”
“Yes; and ibis teller informs me that I
am bis sole heir.”
Both of the young ladies uttered an ex
clamation of delighted surprise. The dead
relative was no part of their troubles. They
were suddenly made richer than even the
Capulels. They had never seen Uncle Ruei,
but report said, and their father, acknowl
edged, that be was a mean and parsimonious
to the last degree. He had been at variance
with bis family, especially with Mr. Mon
tague, the lawyer with whom he,had quat
reled thirty years before, and had never per
mitted any of them to address him. He was
even so morose as to return all letters, declar
ing that all his friends- wanted of him was
his money. ■ -
“I am so glad, father!” exclaimed Eliza,
unable tocontrol her emotions.
“Glad of what 1 That your uncle is
dead!” - - -
“No, father; that we are rich.”
“Riches are a snare, my child.”
“Wo can come up with the Capulets,
now,” added Eliza, heedless of her father’s
moral reflections.
“Listen to me, girls. Uncle Reed’s attor
ney bus sent me a copy of the will, and a\
statement of the reasons that induced hintlo<
make me-bis heir.” - . -r:
- -“Wasn’t it-strange that he -did so 1' I
thought he wasSlways very bitter towards
\*ou,” said Annie. ,
iT -q .
WILLSBOROUCtH, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. JULY i\ 1857.
. „“Ha was, very biller indeed. More than
ibirty years ago, when I first began to prac
tise law, he wished me to undertake a case
for. him. His purpose was to wrong a poor
but honest man, and I refused to act for him ;
But it was'of use to remonstrate* with him.
Shortly afterwards he deprived me ef-the
patronage of my best client, by a false rep.
resenfation, arid then boasted to my face of
iwhal he had done.' I simply told bitri that I
forgave him the wrong he had done roe,
which only made him the more bitter towards
me.”
“What a terrible man he was !” exclaimed
Annie.”
“He was a strange person. Within six
months I was appointed Administrator of an
estate against which he held a large claim in
the form of a promissory note, not secured
by mortgage or otherwise. By some neglect
on the part of Uncle ftuel, the note was out
lawed a day or two before the death of the
promissor, which rendered it of no value in
law. I knew, however that it was a just
debt, though I suppose I had no legal right to
pay i'. The heirs were allopposed to paying
it at first, because they hated Uncle Ruel.”
“What did you do, father?” asked Annie,
much excited by tbe narration.
“He would not have got it out of me,”
added Eliza.
“I advised the heirs to pay it. It required
a great deal of persuasion on my part; but
they were fair and just men, in the main, and
if the claim had been held by any other per
son than Uncle Ruel, (bey would have
wished it paid. They consented at last. In
the meantime, Uncle Ruel was terribly ex
cited. He felt that the money was lost, and
that at (he time it would have been a large
sum for him to lose. He came to my office
and demanded payment. I inlormed him
that I had no authority as yet to pay it, but
that I would do the best 1 could for him. He
evidently distrusted me. He did not think
it was possible for me to do justly by him
after the injury he bad dona me, so he
stormed and raved, called me many hard
names—a cheat and a s windier. When 1
went to pay him, some weeks later, he was
astonished, for he had given up the moneyas
lost. . He stammered an ungracious apology
for his ill-treatment of me, received his
money, and closed his heart against me as
firmly as ever.”
“What a monster!”
“I expected that what I had done would
conquer him.' It did'not, 1 He''would -not
speak to me, even then.” ;
-wi™, „ j
“No, Eliza. I relumed good for evil, and
though his pride would not let him be just to
me, my course produced its proper effect.
The letter I have just received, informs me
that he expiated his injustice by thirty years
of remorse. You can read the letter at your
leisure. It was dictated on the death-bed of
the deceased. He says he never could banish
the affair from his mind; and now he makes
me his heir, as a kind of atonement for his
coldness and ingratitude. The ‘coals of
fire’ have smouldered for thirty years, and
blazed at last on his death-bed.”
The papers were read aloud by Annie,
who was deeply impressed by their contents.
A few months after, Mr. Montague came
into full possession of the estate, and was
one of the wealthiest man in B .
The world delights to honor those upon
whom fortune smiles, and Mr. Montague, all
at once found himself ono of the most dis
tinguished men in the country. People found
out that be bad abilities of the first order, and
that he would become one of the greatest
statesmen in the land ; so they elected him
to Congress. ■
Just before bis departure for Washington,
his daughters insisted upon having a great
parly. The invitation list was made out and
Mr. Montague carefully examined it to see
that no names were omitted.
“Put down Mr. Capulet and family,” said
he, as he handed the list back to Eliza.
“Mr. Capulet 1”
“Yes, Eliza.”
“What! after they have so long and so
carefully ‘cut’ us I" exclaimed Eliza, her
cheek reddening with indignation.
“If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he
thirst, give him drink ; for in so doing thou
shall heap coals of fire upon his head,” re
plied Mr. Montague.'
Annie came to her father’s aid, and thought
it would be the best way to invite them;
though of course they would not come.
But they did come, and were as cordial as
though no break in their intimacy had ever
occurred. Tom Capulet flirted with Annie
all the*evening, and before the small hours
had begun to strike, he was playing Romeo,
(Capulet though he’was) in real earnest.
And she was a very complacent Juliet.
The next day, the Capulets called en masie
upon the Montagues. ' -ft'
“Sir,” said Mr. Qapulet, ‘‘wo. feel that
some apology is due fur the treatment you
and your family have received at our hands.
We were.so astonished and chagrined when
we received your unexpected invitation, that
wo knew not what to do. M'e all felt ex
ceedingly cheap. " '
Mr. Montague smiled, and Mr. Capulet pro
ceeded. -
“This unhappy difference has certainly
existed long enough.”
“I should say -that it bad; though up to
the present time, 1 have, been unable to ascer
tain the cause of it.”
“Indeed I I supposed the cause was clear
enough.- What’Miss Annie said- concerning
Mrs. Capulet .’’
“I I” exclaimed Annie.
'“Did you not declare that she had been
guilty of an indiscretion?’..- -
“THE AGITATION OP THOUGHT IS THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM.”
“Never! I never even hinted any such
thing.” _ '
“Mary, who lived with you, said she heard
you say it, *
“Is it possible, Mr. Capulel, that you have
taken tbe word of an ignorant and prejudiced
girl to such an extent,”
“It came to us -like a true story,” contin
ued Mr. Capulet, much disturbed.
“We discharged Mary for stealing,” added
Mrs. Montague.
“Is it possible?”
“Don’t you remember, mother, she threat
ened to be revenged ?”
• I do.”
“It would have been proper for yon to
have given us a chance to be heard in our
own defence, said Mr. Montague.
“Can you forgive us ?”
“Freely, sir,”
“We have probably suffered more than
you have; for I have all the time had some
doubt about the truth of the story,: and I
confess I never was so worked up as when
your invitation came. It was returning good
for evil. It was ‘coals of fire’ to us. You
have conquered me.”
The Montagues and Capulels have contin
ued on the best terms up to the present
writing; and we are happy to inform the
reader that the tragic fate of Romeo and
Juliet was not in store for our lovers, for in
due time they were married.
The Effects of Imagination,
The Philadelphia North American relates
an amusing instance of the powers of imagi
nation. A salesman employed in a large
jobbing house in Market street, like Paul’s es
pecial pet, young Timothy, has “often infir
mities,” and abominable qualms—or perhaps,
like a noted clergyman, has a complaint of
the throat—which he assuages with a morn
ing dram of Cogninc, a supply of which he
kept in a snug place, easy of access. It hap
pened, however, that a porter named Bill was
afflicted by the same infirmities, and clandes
tinely drew upon the clerk’s medical beverage
to such an extent as to seriously annoy him.
The salesman determined to make Bill the
victim of a trick, and for this purpose re
moved the brandy, and substituted in jts place
about a quart of very weak whiskey and
water, which was colored with burnt sugar.—
This the porter, at two visits, absorbed the
whole of, evidently disappointed in its quality.
Shortly -a&ar-ltia-aaU»smaa-pt«l«ndpd to
diScover the loss, and with a countenance
upon which was depicted an expression of the
greatest alarm, he inquired, “who has been
taking my bottle of rat poison'!” “What
rat poison!” asked all, the porter Bill among
the number. “Why the bottle of whiskey
and arsenic under the counter here.” “Had
that bottle any arsenic in it 7” asked Bill, his
face turning ghastly pale, and his knees
knocking together with mortal fear. “Had
it T I should think it had. There was arse
nic enough there to kill twenty men I” “I—
don’t—know—anyth’ng—about—it—sir,’’-
said Bill, in a manner which showed very
plainly that he did, as he rushed precipitately
down into the cellar. When there he was
seized with a fit of vomiting, accompanied by
frightful pains, so violent that the clerks were
alarmed, and summoned a physician, think
ing that the man must have been poisoned in
earnest. It was an hour before the doctor
came, he found the man as near death, with
all the symptoms of poisoning by arsenic, as
though he had actually taken poison in ah
over dose. The truth of the matter was then
told to the victimized portet, and of course
bis recovery wse as rapid as the suddenness
of the attack; but the doctor confidently ex
pressed bis belief that the man would have
died, purely from the effects of his imagina
tion, with all the horrible sensations of a death
by corrosive poispn. ,
The Faculty may make the most of the
above, or only notice it by a very dignified
“Humph I”—but we have the documents, and
know it to be an authentic case of self decep
tion.
Letting Down tue Aristocracy. —The
elegant Miss Mason, whose father bad made
a splendid fortune as an enterprising draper
and tailor, appeared at a magnificent enter
tainment, in royal apparel. With that fastid
ious exclusiveness for which the latest comers
into fashionable circles are the most remark
able, she refused various offers of introduc
tion, as she did not wish to extend the num
ber of her acquaintances, “her friends were
few and very select.”
The beautiful Miss Taylor, radiant with
good nalured smiles, and once well acquaint
ed with Miss Mason when they went to the
public school in William Street together, no
ticed the hauteur of her ancient friend, yvho
was determined not to recognize one who
would only remind her of her former low es
tate. But Miss Taylor, tho rogue, as clever
as she was pretty, determined to bring her up
with a short turn,, and not submit to being
snubbed by one whose ancestral association
was no better than her own. Watching her
chance, when the haughty young lady was in
the midst of her set, Miss Taylor walked up
and with smiles of winning:' sweetness, re
marked t
“I have been thinking, my dear Miss Ma
son, that we ought to exchange names;”
“Why, indeed!”
“Because my name is Taylor, and my
father is a mason, and your, name is Mason,
but your father was a. tailor.” /
, Thera, was a scene then, but there was no
help for-it. The little . Miss Taylor had the
pleasure of saying a very cute thing, which
was soon, repeated in the ears or a doaon cir
cles, and the wits wished to sea* her, hut the
proud Miss Meson bit her. lip iu silence.
I'VE WEPT.
Oh, often In the client night whilst all around me slept,
Whentho’ts came throning thick an<l £ut, I've lain awake
and wept.
Fto wept for. hopes one* bright and lair, nolr sunk in end
less night,'
And joys that seemed within my grasp, now faded from my
sight.
I've wept for friends—fond ones and dear, forever from me
gone,
JTor one, who still Is left to me, yet soon mnst follow on.
How could I brook the thought, that she—my mother loved
and kind,
Should go from hence—our earthly home, and leave me still
behind.
Great heaven! I cried, if this most be; If tht from hence
must go,
0 grant that 1 mar follow soon, and end this life of woe!
Repining one! a voice replied, why manner at my will
Dry up those tears —and to that heart, speak gently—“ Peace;
bo still.
Those hopes you veep—-those friends you mourn, I for your j
good remove; |
That you mar think the less on earth, and more on Heaven •
above.* LENA. - ;
A HoosTer Doorkeeper.
Some years since at a lime when Ludlow
& Smith, the celebrated theatrical managers:
were traveling with a large company
the western part of Indiana, everything wasi
flat—business was stagnant', canals were fro-!
zen up, and as for money no such thing was :
in circulation. Yet the managers stiode on,
and every member of themompany knowing
them to be “good” stuck to them like wax.;
After a time the managers, almost in despair,!
reached something of a sizeable town—puli
out their bill—after roving, secured a mag-;
nificenl Hall in the shape of an old barn,j
and calmly awaited the.result. The consta-|
ble of the (own was secured as a money
taker, (money was taken at the door) and
evening arrived. Many an anxious eye from
the stage peeped through the little hole in
green curtain —amazement! the temple barnj
was crowded. The performances came off
that night nervously and charmingly. Every
actress and actor was greeted with, shouts.— 7
At last the performances were concluded, and
in an ecstacy of delight, one of the
sought the doorkeeper. |
“Rather good house Mr. Doorkeeper.” ;
“O ves, right smart —here’s the docker
ments.” Here Mr. Doorkeeper handed the
astonished manager one dollar and seventy l
Jive cents exactly. J
“But my dear sir, the hall was full; how
can you account for so small a return !” j
“Dod wash it, do you doubt my honor
stranger—that’s all I tuk at the door. You
see the big break yonder, well, most of the
folks bruk in there.” ■
“YesVTjuryoiX'—“ 7 |,
“Stranger, ther’s my coat off, f was put
there to Keep me aom-, I h avo If Apt it, now tf
you insinuate as ho\V I ought, without in
structions, to have kept the break,
for the whole crowd.”
There was no fight.
How Ale Strengthened Him. —Wo be
lieve we have got hold of an original anec
dote that never was printed before. A slul,
dent of one of our State Colleges had a
barrel of ale deposited in his room—contrary
of course to rule and usage. He received’a
summons to appear before the President, who
said : j
“Sir, I am informed that you have a barrel
of ale in yonr room.” j
“Yes, sir.” j
*>Well, what explanation can you make?’’
“Why, the fact is, sir, my physician advi
ses me to try a little each day as a tonic, and
not wishing to stop at the various places
where the beverage is retailed, I.concluded to
have a barrel taken to my room.” I j
“Indeed. And have you derived apy ben
efit from the use of it 7” i
“Ah, yes, sir. When the barrel was first
taken to my room, two days since, I could
scarcely lift it. Ndw I can carry it with the
greatest ease.” ,
We believe the witty student was dis
charged without special reprimand. I
A Quaker Woman’s Sermon. —“Mjf
Dear triends : There are three things 1 very
much wonder at. The first is, that children
should be so foolish as to throw up stones,
clubs and brickbats into fruit trees, to knock
down fruit; if they let it alone it would fal|l
itself. The second is, that men should be so
foolish, and even so wicked, as 10 go to wnjr
and kill each other; if they are let
they woqld die themselves. And the third
and last thing which i wonder at is, that
young men should bo so unwise as to go after
the young women ; if they would stay at
home, the young women would come after
them." I
A few days since, one of our learned coun
sels deemed it necessary to shake the les'i
mony of a Mr. Builcrworth, by impugning
bis veracity. The witness being called to
the stand, the lawyer commenced— j
“Do you know Mr, Butterworth 1” i
“Yes.” - - - . I
“What is Butterworth 7” ’
“Two and ten pence a pound, although I
have os high as—.” i
“That will do, sir. You can take your
seat.”
The Home Journal makes the following
report of a stanza as pathetically sung' by-a
prima donna at a New York concert." Those
familiar with the .song of the “Old Arm
Chair,” as sung by Russell, may
slight resemblance:
Hi lo hove it, hi la-bove it
And who op sha hill ds-hsre
TO.IIOO chi.hi.hidc roe for to-hoving
That o-ho-ho)d a-harm cha-hsir. ■ - '
“Jimmy, ate your folks all well?”.
“Yes., ma’am, all but Sally Ann." . ,
“What’s the matteis with her?” - *
“O, nothin* particular—-only she had the
hooping cough-once, and she hainl gotover
it.-.-The-cough-ain’t any account now, hut
site has lho■Aoop^le^pt■|l^’ , j-
Advertisements will be charged 81 per square of
fourteen Hoes, for one, or three insertions, and 25
cents for every subsequent Insertion. 'All advertise
oienU of less than fourteen lines considered as %
sqoaie, The following rates will b« charged fi»r
Quarterly*Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising;—
■4 J. I .>
8 months. 6 months. 18 tno*a
1 Square, (14 lines,) . 82 50 84 50 86 00
2 Squires,. . . - .4 00 600 BOd
i column, .... 1000 1500 2000
I column 18 00 30 00 40 00
All advertisements not having tbo number of in
sertions marked upon them, will be kept in ami! or
dered oat. and charged accordingly.
Fosters, Handbills, Bill,and Letter Headland all
kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments,
executed neatly and promptly. Justices*, Consta
bles* and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and
printed (o order.
NO. 49.
©ntr CotrrsponDftwr.
For The ApUtor.
Fbisnd Cobb ; For the post few weeks tbo
all-absorbing topic has been the disposal of
the Minesota land grants by on extra session
of the Legislature ; and so intense has been
the public feeling, that it has pervaded all
classes of community, and lor the lime being
all other topics have sunk iota insignificance.
The “comet” was nowhere, and “town sites”
and “real estates” were not even dreamed of.
But, as I remarked before, “the Rubicon .it
passed,” the battle is over, and Minesota “is
herself again.”
By the bye, this same Minesota deserves
10 be immortnlized in the annals of fame, for
her successful resistance to the series of dan*
gers which have beset her during the past
few months. First in the list was the diaboli
cal attempt (by a certain ex-Governor, who
is a great Gormaa-dizer) to inflict “capital
punishment by decapitation,” and in bis idof
airy to offer up the devoted bead to a certain
‘•St. Peter” to whom he is said to “bow down
and worship.” But the afflicted people (as
in times of old) flew to their patron saint
(who is called Paul) for protection. Now
this St Paul has great influence with the
“powers that be,” so be stretched forth his
politico-auriferous arms towards Washington,
and cried in a loud voice, “Let not this evil
come upon my people,” and straightway they
received absolution.
Scarcely bad this danger passed from the
seemingly devoted Territory, ere came the
dread cry of “Indian war” wherein thirty
thousand Sioux Indians were to massacre all
the people therein, and, so frighten the “rest
of mankind” that none should dare again Jo
serfdot within her borders. But, no sooner
did this fierce war cry reach the ears of St.
Paul j than one of his disciples called “Timo
thy,” issued from the Time's office such a
peal of military thunder, as to so nearly an
nihilate the army of the Sioux, that when the
U. S. troops marched from fort Snelling to
give battle, the enemy could no where be
found ; ao (after driving three or four old
squaws out of a sugar bush) the troops were
ordered back to quarters, and thus ended the
great war—but the country was again saved.
Yet, even while the echo of the “war cry”
was still heard in the distance, came the “nn
kindest cut of oil,” viz ; the disposition of
the land grants. Now, these land grants
are supposed to be portions of the public car
cass, cut off by Congress to feed the political
jackals who ever hang in the rear of the
Govermental caravan—and to prevent their
mcessant howling, .Congress occasionally
throws them a precious morsel from the pub
lic stores. These animals are to be found
prowling round the camps of all parlies, but
mostly about the parly to whom for the time
being belong the spoils. And, when some
thing like a year ago, Congress cut a piece
from Wisconsin to feed them, there was a
great scrabble, snarling and fighting, to the
serious annoyance nnd permanent injury to
the vital interests of said State. The morsel
was not of sufficient magnitude to satisfy the
cravings of the whole pack, so they set up a
howl more hideous than before, and pressed
hard on the heels of the keepers of the pub
lic crib, showing their white, long rows of
chattering teeth yet reeking with the juicy
morsel they had been devouring. Congress
saw the danger and to avert it cut hastily
from the tender carcass of Minesota ao enor
mous piece, and threw in their midst. Then
came the mighty scrabble of the voracious
and half starved legion. All of the species
were in motion. They came from the -east,
west, north and south, and even the “old
Keystone” was here represented. But Mine
sota saw her danger, and fearing in the gene
ral melee, total destruction, rallied to the res
cue. She gathered her mighty warriors and
strong men and entrenched them in her Leg
islative Halls, within the precincts of beran
cient patron, St Paul. Soon they were sur
rounded by the mighty hosts of their beseig
ers, who sought to intimidate by threatening
to devour all who should stand between them
and the promised repast, Bui the brave lit
tle hand still 'kept to their post and after many
days being short of supplies they were con
strained to lake rations from the stores they
were guarding from the enemy. This was a
fatal mistake (for outsiders) for they rolled it
as a sweet morsel under ibeir longues, and'
when they had feasted long, resolved to ap
propriate what was left to their own exclusiva
use now and forever, not allowing even the
crumbs to be picked from under their tabla
by the famished multitude. When this edict
was proclaimed in the land there-was great
wailing, and soon the beseiging hosts .began
to leave; first by ones and twos and soon- by
legions, till ere long the city was.nearly de
serted and peace was again proclaimed in the
land v •••-'/- ,
- The election; of delegates for a convention
to form a State Constitution for Minesota pre
paratory to her admission into the Unipn, is
to take place soon.- Each party claims to be
sure of success, but -what the result will be
I am not prepared-to predict.
The weather has been.delightful for a law
weeks post-, and all kinds of vegetation may
be said to be in a flourishing condiiion.'and
the coming harvest from present indications
wilt undoubledty be a.good -one. But lest (
weary the patience of yourself and resdersl
will' close. I expect to start on the 4th inat
on an exploring expedition some 100 miles in
the in’eriorv and should anything present it.
self worthy of note you may hear from me
again. In the mean time I remain *
~[f; Yobfs tfulyr -t». y. E.
A: man badasign up,'•‘Cheap ladies’ shoes
for sate here. He fotind that not a lady en
leted bis store.' ■ No-wohder—tbe.tadies don’t
like to lie called cheap. hardear; e r ■->
Bates of Advertising.
Hudson, Wrs., June 3d 1857.