of Publication.
, rottNTT AGITATOR is published
10E Mofningi “d mailed to subscribers
r Se>ble pice of
‘"oXE POTLAR PER ANNUM,
.* than «. It is intended to notify every
Mi'il 1 ) •" ® , h . term for which ho has paid shall
Utri b£ . r PP the stamp—“Tike Our," on the mar-
Lt ir , , napcr. The paper will then be stopped
,J : .f th; be received. By this ar
[jtl e eon in debt to the
up*®” 1
iimter• j g the Official Paper of the County,
Xqe Cl, \ c d steadily increasing circulation reach
ing i Neighborhood in the County. It is sent
jgintoevaT ° oy p ost office within the county
htt of /* vr \ cse most convenient post office may be
** B a - rqn i« n ot exceeding 5 lines, paper inclu-
Bosi nd=
u c; pel year. .
• For th© Agitator.
}[Y SOVSESOLD TREASURES,
BY BIT. N. BROWS.
Poor in flecks and herds am I,
ind in golden-purchoscd pleasures,
yet for tbes ® 1 no } Slgb .’ ~
Mid precious household treasures.
Precious ones °I *1 csu s’ fold;
Rich m I, though not in gold;
for worldly wealth Til sigh
While my fold of lambs is nigh.
Poor in fruitful lands am I,
Humble is my rural dwelling;
There a crystal fount is nigh,
Xhere a crystal fount is welling;
jvre the halmy summer breeie
Whispers 'mid the maple trees,
Where the bright birds love to sing,
Chattering and frolicking.
There a bird of crimson breast,
And with notes in rapture ringing,
Built its tiny, downy nest,
Jov to all our household bringing.
,'s a a •
LUlle children —one, two. three,
Precious household treasures given;
Images so bright to me
Of my Mary now in Heaven;
Blossoms from the perished tree; 1
furs to light my pilgrim way I
tyhße 'tis hero my lot to stay.
Jlora hath kissed the summer skies.
Salute everywhere rejoices ;
So» my prattling ones arise,
" Hark! their merry, ringing voices;
And uith pattering, twinkling feet.
Haste they now the birds to greet,
Shouting as they trip along, '
Mimicking sweet “birdie’s” song.
He vho hath such treasures dear,
Humble though his lot and dwelling,
Finds a Heaven very near
Of eweet hope and brightness telling.
He may have no lands, nor gold.
Yet snch lambs of Jesus’ fold.
Shall bring gladness to bis heart,
And a balm for every smart,
tiea Vale, X, Y.
THE TODNG ENGUSHUUN.
Te copy the following story from a new
rrt, "The Arabian Days’ Entertainments,”
i-t issued, in I volume, price $1,25, by Messrs.
Ftillips, Sampson & €O., of Boston. Neither
tie title or the commencement of the story give
a; intimation of the pleasant humor which
tetra Jes the whole after the secret is known,
:of the excellent moral to be drawn from it.
s is but one of many others which make
the bonk and well deserve the name of En-
rtainments.]
Mr Lord Sheik, in the southern part of Ger-
many lies the little city of Grunwiesel, where I
ns born and bred. It is small, as all cities
ire in that country. In the centre is a little
cirket-place with a fountain, an old guildhall
■j one side, and round the market the houses
cf the justice pf peace and the more influential
merchants; and a couple of narrow streets
hold all the rest of the inhabitants. All know
each other; every one knows what happens
everywhere else; and if the priest, the burgo
master, or the doctor, has an additional dish on
;Lis table, by dinner time it is known to the
entire city. In the afternoon the ladies go to
wch others houses, paying visits as they call it,
:o talk, over strong coffee and sweet biscuits,
about this great event; and the general conclu
de arrived at is that the priest must have in
*ssted in a lottery and won money sinfully, or
burgomaster have taken a bribe, or the
t tier have received money from the apothecary
: the condition of writing expensive prescrip
ts. You may imagine, my lord sheik, how
tttjtecable a circumstance it must have been
;0 well-regulated a place os Grunwiesel,
wen a man arrived there, of whom nobody
hew whence he came, what he wanted, or how
a - ;v ' : i- The burgomaster, to be sure, had
his passport, —a paper which every one ih
'■■■V-i to have among us—
‘is it so unsafe in your streets,” interrupted
sheik, “that you require to have a firman
foa roar sultan to inspire robbers with re
spetir
' 5 . tny lord, —answered the slave; —these
are no protection against thieves, but
toade necessary by the law, which requires
11 mu st be known everywhere who is who.
the burgomaster had examined the pass
; A and had declared, at a coffee party at the'
•vtor’s, that it was certainly correctly vised
Berlin to Grunwiesel; but he feared there
' 4S f ome lhing behind, for the man had a very
■--pictous look about him. The burgomaster
J* great authority in the city, so it is no mat
‘ of surprise that in consequence the stranger
. e re garded as a very doubtful charac
-rj His mode of life did not tend to disabuse
bvK? UQtrymeri of tllia opinion. lie hired a
1 ur his exclusive use, put into it a cart
stranSe looking furniture, such as fur
, -swdbaths, crucibles and the like, and
~' a '"“forward entirely alone. Nay, he
ia “ ls °wn cooking, and his house was
P "I no human being, except one old man
whose duty it was to buy his
, t° eat ’ ve S etaW es. Even this person
admitted to the lower floor, where the
j ' et met Inn to receive his purchases.
3 f° n years of age when the
I u p his residence in our city; and
P®e4h 10 m ’ D^’M P lainl y 118 it had hap
cWas:, ut l ester day, the excitement the man
‘ferao " * n He never came of an
peen ■ OO °* L * ler people, to the bowling
ijj J , r ' trer °f an evening to the tavern, to
tin did i t * mes over his pipe and tobacco. In,
™e burgomaster, the justice, the doc-
P r>e st, each in his turn, invite him to
t-.ttj C ', r tc ' a ’> be invariably begged to be ex-
Nj.i , "consequence of all this, some people
t; : . i “’ m as a desperado; some thought he
dew ; and a third party declared with
that he was a magican or sor
ttd K jt, S rcw to be eighteen, twenty years old,
5, ™ e tnan w as always called in the city
"-Mranget.”
t one day, that gome people came
The tt o a collection of strange animals.
S Grtir/'- °h B h° we d itself on this occasion
session :r l WUS distinguished by the pos
% 1 monstrous orang-outang, nearly
it;® all R a which went on two legs, and
Juiced that cunn * n g sleights of band. It
fttt of iL. lta performances took place in
*5l Sts snnlj “Sot’s house. When the drum
uded, he made his appearance, at
THE AGITATOR
Qeboteg to t{je intension of tfje &trea of iFtcc&om anU tbe Sptcab of f&ealtbg Reform.
WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG HNRIQHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
YOL. Y.
first with visible vexation, behind the dark
dust-begriramed window of his residence. Soon’
however, he grew more amiable, and, opening
his window, to everybody’s astonishment, looked
out and langhed heartily at the orang-outang’s
gambols. Nay, he paid so large a piece of sil
ver for the entertainment that the whole citv
talked of it, j 1
The next morning a collection of animals
went on their way. They had scarcely made a
league on their journey, when the stranger sent
to the post-house, demanding, to the postmas
ter’s amazement, a post chaise and horses, and
set forth by xhe same gate and on the same road
taken by the menagerie. The whole city was
furiouS' at not being able to learn whither he
was going. It was night when the stranger
again returned to the gate in the post-chaise.
A person was sitting with him in the vehicle,
with his hat pressed closely down over his
face, and his month and ears bound in a silk
handkerchief. The gate-keeper considered it
his duty to speak to the second stranger, and
demand his passport. His answer was surly,
and growled out in some unintelligible lan
guage.
“It is my nephew,” said the stranger, po
litely, putting several silver coins into the gate
keeper’s hand; “he understands very little
German. What he said just now was swearing
at our being delayed here.”
• “Ah ! if he is your nephew, sir,” answered
the gate-keeper, “of course he can enter with
out a passport. Ha will live in yonr house, no
doubt?”
“Certainly,” said the stranger; “and will
probably remain with me a long while.”
The gate-keeper made no further opposition,
and the stranger and his nephew passed into
the city. The burgomaster and the whole town
were much displeased with the conduct of the
gate-keeper. He should at least have taken
notice of the nephew’s language ; it would then
have been an easy matter to decide to what na
tion he and his uncle belonged. The gate
keeper asserted, in reply to these complaints,
that it was neither Italian nor French, hut had
sounded a good deal like English; and, unless
his ears had deceived him, the younger gentle
man had said distinctly, “Ros-bif!” By this
the gate-keeper helped himself oat of his scrape,
and at the same time, assisted the young man
to a name, for nothing was talked of now in
the city but the young Englishman.
The young man, however, was no greater
frequenter of the bowling-green or the tav
ern than his uncle was; but he furnished
the people much food for conversation in an
other way. It happened now, not nnfrequcntly,
that in the hitherto silent house would be heard
a frightful uproar and shrieking, so that the
pass'ers-hy would stop before the house in
crowds, and gaze up at the windows. The
young Englishman would bo seen dressed in a
red frock and green trousers, his hair erect, and
his appearance indicating terror, running with
great speed through the rooms, from window to
window, the old stranger pursuing him with a
hunting-whip in his hand, and often failing to
overtake him. But it sometimes seemed to the
crowd below that he had succeeded in catching
the young man ; for they could hear, issuing
from the rooms above, cries of anguish and
sounds of blows. The ladies of the city took
such deep concern in this cruel treatment of
the youthful stranger, that they induced the
burgomaster at last to take some notice of the
affair. He wrote a letter to the strange gen
tleman, in which he alluded in vigorous terms
to his harsh treatment of his nephew, and
threatened him, in case similar scenes contin
ued to transpire, with taking the unfortunate
young man under his especial protection.
Imagine the surprise of the burgomaster
when he saw the stranger entering his doors
for the only time in ten years. The old gen
tleman excused his conduct towards his nephew
on the plea of the peculiar directions of the
parents of the young man who had entrusted
him with his education. He stated that the
youth was in most respects clever and intelli
gent, hut that he learned languages with great
difficulty; that he wished so earnestly to make
his nephew an accomplished German scholar,
that he might afterwards take the liberty to in
troduce him to the society of Grunwiesel, and
the progress made by him was so discouraging,
that on many occasions there was no better
course to pursue than to heat it into him by a
suitable castigation. The burgomaster ex
pressed himself perfectly satisfied with this
explanation, recommended a little more modera
tion in the infliction of chastisement, and re
ported in the evening at the beer-saloon, that
he had rarely met, in his whole life, a better
informed and more agreeable gentleman than
thb stranger. “The only pity is,” he added,
“that he goes so little into society; but I think,
as soon as his nephew can speak a little. Ge
rman he will visit our circle oftener.”
By this single incident the opinion of the
city was completely changed. They regarded
the stranger as a well-bred man, felt a desire
to cultivate his acquaintance, and considered it
to be perfectly in order, when now and then a
frightful shriek was heard to issue from the
desolate house. “He is giving his nephew a
lesson in German,” the Grunwieselonians said,
and went on without paying further attention
to the matter. Three "months passed by, and
the tuition in German seemed to have come
to a close; but the old man went a step further.
There lived in the city an old, infirm French
man, who gave lessons in dancing to the young
people. This man the stranger summoned to
his house, and told him that he desired him to
teach his nephew to dance.
There was nothing, the Frenchman secretly
declared, so wonderful in all the world as these
dancing-lessons. The nephew, a tall, slim,
young man, with rather short legs, made his
appearance, he said, in a red frock, his hair
nicely curled, wide trousers, and white gloves.
He spoke little, and with a foreign accent, and
seemed, in the beginning, rather intelligent and
doclie; but he frequently broke out into the
most ridiculous leaps, dancing the wildest tours,
in which he made entrechats which surpassed
all the dancing masters be had ever seen or
heard-of. When it was attempted to check his
extravagances, he would pull off the delicate
dancing-shoes from his feet, throw them at the
Frenchman’s head,-and run round the chamber
WELLSBORO. TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. FEBRUARY 17, 1859.
on all fours. At the noise, the old gentleman
would rush out of bis room, in a large, red bed
gown, and a cap of gold paper on his head,
and lay his whip heavily over his nephew's
shoulders. The nephew would at once begin
to howl in the most frightful manner, spring
on the table, and high book-cases, and even
on the upper sashes of the windows, and talk
all the time a strange, foreign language. The -
old gentleman would give him no respite, hut,
seizing him by the leg, would pull him down,
beat him- soundly, and draw his neck-cloth
tighter round his neck by the buckle; after
which the nephew would become mannerly-and
sober again, and the dancing-lesson go on .qui
etly to its close.
These dancing-lessons very nearly killed the
old Frenchman; but the dollar ;whioh he regu
larly received and the good wine which the old
gentleman brought out, always took him back
to his pupil, often as he resolved never to set
foot in the hateful house again:
The people of Grunwiesel looked on these
things very differently from the Frenchman.
They settled in their own minds that the young
gentleman possessed great talents for society ;
and the ladies of the place all congratulated
themselves—suffering as they did from a great
lack of gentlemen-—on the acquisition of so
vigorous a dancer for the coming winter.
One morning, the maids, returning from
market, described to their masters and mis
tresses a singular incident. They had seen an
elegant carriage standing before the stranger's
house, and a servant in rich livery holding the
step. Two gentlemen had entered the carriage,
the servant sprung into the boot behind, and
the carriage—only imagine it!—drove straight
off to the house of the burgomaster.
Everywhere people were in raptures with the
two strangers, and regretted only that they had
not made their acquaintance earlier. The old
gentleman showed himself to be a well-bred,
sensible man, who laughed a little, to be sure,
in everything he said, rendering it difficult to
know whether he was in jest or earnest; but
who talked of the weather, the scenery, and the
picnics to the cave in the mountain, so politely
and shrewdly that every one was delighted.
But the nephew 1 He bewitched everybody ;
he won all hearts. As for his exterior, it was
impossible to call him exactly handsome. The
lower part of his face, especially his jaw; pro
jected too far, and his complexion was extremely
dark; while occasionally he made the most re
markable grimaces, shutting his eyes, and
snapping his teeth together queerly; but people
found the shape of his features exceedingly in
teresting. '‘He is an Englishman,” people
said: “they all said so. We must not bo too
particular with an Englishman.”
Towards his old uncle he was very submis
sive ; for whenever ho began to jump-too viva
ciously about the room, or as he seemed par
ticularly inclined to do, draw 1 his feet up under
him on his chair, a single stern glance from the
old man served to bring him to order at once.
And how could one be angry with the young
man, when his uncle, in every house, said to
the lady, “My nephew is still a little raw and
ill-bred, madam ; but I anticipate much from
the mollifying effect produced by your society,
and I implore your forgiveness for any gauoh
eries he may happen to be guilty of.”
Thus was the nephew at length introduced
to the gay world, and all Grunwiesel spoke of
nothing else for the two following days but this
great event. The old gentleman renounced his
habits of retirement, and seemed to have wholly
altered his modes of thought and life. In the
afternoons he went, with his nephew, to the
cave in the mountain, where the more important
citizens of Grunwiesel drank beer and rolled
ninepins. Here the nephew showed himself a
skillful master of the game; for he never threw
less than five or six balls. Occasionally a
strange humor seized him. It happened, more
than once, that he rushed like an arrow down
among the ninepins with one of the balls,
making a dreadful racket, and when he made
a spare or a ten-strike, the fancy sometimes
came over him to stand erect on his nicely
curled head, and extend his' legs high into the
air; or, if a carriage happened to pass, before
one knew what he was about he would be seen
sitting on the top of the vehicle, making the
most ludicrous grimaces, and, after riding on a
short distance, return, with prodigious leaps
and bounds, to the party he had quitted.
The old gentleman, at such incidents as these,
was wont to beg ton thousand pardons of the
burgomaster and the other gentlemen, for his
nephew’s eccentricities. They, in reply, would
laugh, ascribe such conduct to his youthful
spirits, declare that they had been just the
same in their youth, and admire the young
springal, as they called him, immensely.
In this way the nephew of the stranger came,
before long, to be held in high favor in the city
and environs. No one could recall ever having
seen a young man like him in Grunwiesel be
fore ; and he was, indeed, the strangest appa
rition which had ever visited their borders. No
one could accuse him of cultivation, of any
possible kind, except, perhaps, a little dancing.
Latin and Greek were both Greek to him. At
a round game at the burgomaster’s house, it
once fell to his lot to he obliged to write some
thing, and it was found that he could not even
sign his name. In geography he made the
most stupendous blunders; for he made no
hesitation in locating a German city in France,
or a Danish one in Poland. He had read noth
ing ;he had studied nothing; and the priest
often shook his head significantly over the
dreadful ignorance of the young gentleman.
Still, in spite of this, everything he said and
did was held to be excellent; for he was impu
dent enough to insist always on being right,
ahd the last words of every remark he made
were; “I understand this much better than
you.”
The scenes of his greatest triumphs, however,
were the Grunwiesel balls.. No one danced so
perseveringly, none so vigorously as he; no one
made such bold, such graceful jumps. His un
cle dressed him for such occasions in the new
est and handsomest fashions; and, although it
was to make his clothes fit, yet
everybody considered his dress charming. The
gentlemen, to be sure, took offence at these
balls, at the new style which he introduced.—
Hitherto the burgomaster Bad always opened
the ball in person, and the most highly bom
young men exercised the fight regulating
the rest of the dances; but since the young
Englishman’s arrival, a total change had been
brought about. He would seize the prettiest
girl by the hand without leave or licence, take
with her in the figure, manage every
thing precisely as he pleased, and constitute
himself, without ceremony, lord, master, and
king of the ball. But as the ladies found these
manners extremely elegant, the young men
dared not venture on resistance, and the eccen
tric nephew retained unopposed his self-assumed
dignity and rank.
Such was the behavior adopted by the neph
ew at balls and parties in Grunweisel. As is
too often the case in other matters, bad habits
come into vogue much easier than good ones,
and a new and striking fashion, especially if it
be ridiculous, has ever something in it highly
attractive for the young, who have not yet
farmed an accurate or sensible judgment of
themselves and the world. So it was in Grun
wiesel with the nephew and his extraordinary
manners. For, when the younger world per
ceived that the young stranger won more admi
ration than he incurred rebuke for his awkward
habits, his loud laughter, and his insolent an
swers to his seniors, and that these passed
merely as evidences of his spiritual nature,
they thought to themselves: “Nothing is easier
than to make myself exactly such another spir
itual brute.” They had formerly been indus
trious, clever youths ; but now they thought;
“Of what use is learning, when ignorance car
ries a man so much farther ?” So, abandoning
their books, they spent their time in dissipation
on the streets.
Till now, the Grunwiesel young men had en
tertained a proper dislike to a rough and vulgar
demeanor; now they sang all sorts of vile songs,
smoked huge pipes of tobacco, and spent much
time in low pot-houses, for with them they re
sembled the young Englishman. At home, or
on a visit, they lay down in boots and spurs on
the ottomans; at assemblies they tilted their
chairs, or put both elbows on the table. In
vain their older friends represented to them
how foolish, how disgraceful this behavior was ;
they referred to the shining example of the
nephew. It was said to them, in vain, that a
certain degree of rudeness mast be forgiven in
the nephew, in consideration of his English
birth; the young Grunwieselonians declared
that they had as good a right as the best En
glishman in the world to be vulgar in a spirit
ual way. In short, it was a general complaint
that gentlemanly breeding and behavior had
been entirely eradicated from Grunwiesel by
the evil example of the young stranger.
But the pleasure of the young men in their
rude and reckless life, was of* short duration,
for the following incident changed the whole
aspect of affairs. A great concert was resolved
upon, to close the winter amusements, to be
given partly by the regular city musicians,
partly by skillful amateurs of Grunwiesel.—
The burgomaster played the viotincetlo, the
doctor the bassoon, with great skill, the apoth
ecary, though he had no ear, blew the flute,
several young ladies of the city had studied
arias, and every preliminary had been carefully
arranged. The old stranger expressed the opin
ion, that, though doubtless the concert would
be admirable as it was, he noticed that no duct
was included inj the programme, and that a
duet was, as every one knew, a necessary ele
ment of every concert. This opinion occasioned
a good deal of embarrassment. The burgomas
ter’s daughter, to be sure, sang like a nightin
gale ; but where was the gentleman who could
sing a duet with her? They thought, at last of
falling back on the old organist, who had sung
an excellent bass in former days ; but the stran
ger announced that all this anxiety was need
less, for his nephew, had a voice of surprising
cultivation and power. The duet, therefore,
was studied with all haste, and the evening at
length arrived, on which the ears of the people
of Grunwiesel were to be enraptured by the
concert.
t The old stranger was unable to he present at
his nephew’s triumph, in consequence of illness,
bat be gave to the burgomaster, who visited
him during the day, some rules for the guid
ance of his eccentric relative. “He is a good
soul,” said he; “but now and then he is seized
with some strange notions, and breaks out info
the wildest freaks. I regret, extremely my in
ability to be present at the concert this evening,
for his demeanor is perfectly decorous while I
am by. He well knows why, the.scamp! Let
me assure your excellency that this vivacity of
his is not a mental vice, but merely a bodily
infirmity. Whenever, therefore, any such hu
mor seizes him, so that he seats himself on a
music-stand, or attempts to knock down the
contra-bass, or the like, if your excellency
would take the trouble to loosen his cravat a
little, or, if nothing better can .be done, take it
off altogether, you will see how quiet and well
bred he will at once become.”
The burgomaster thanked the sick man for
his confidence, and promised, in case the neces
sity arose, to follow his directions to the letter.
Part first of the concert was over, and every
body was on the tenter hooks of expectation
for the second, in which the young Englishman
was to perform a duet with the burgomaster’s
daughter. The nephew had made his appear
ance in gorgeous costume, and had long ago
drawn upon himself the attention of all pres
ent. He had thrown himself down, without
the slightest ceremony, in the elegant arm-chair
provided for a countess of the vicinity, and,
stretching his legs to their full length, had
stared the audience out of countenance through
a huge opera glass which he had provided in
addition to his ordinary spectacles; playing in
cessantly meanwhile with a large mastiff which
he had persisted in introducing in spite of the
regulations prohibiting all such animals. The
countess, for whom the arm chair had been pro
vided, soon appeared; but the young English
man made no attempt to resign his seat.- On
the contrary, he only assumed a more comfort
able attitude, and no one present ventured to
rebuke his insolence. The distinguished lady
was consequently obliged to take her seat in an
ordinary cane chair among the other ladies of
the city, in a state of intense and natural in
dignation.
No wonder, therefore, that everybody! was
curious to see how he would succeed with his
duet. The second part began; the city musi
cians played the introductory bars, and now the
burgomaster led up his daughter to the ypung
Englishman, and handing him a sheet of iqusic,.
said to him, “My. dear sir are you disposed to
begin the duet ?” The stranger laughed, sqow’d
his teeth, and, springing up, preceded the two
others to the music stand, while the audience
was filled with excitement and anticipation.—
The organist heat the time and nodded to the
Englishman to begin. The latter looked at the
music through his spectacles a moment, and
gave utterance to some hideous and melancholy
howls ; whereupon the organist shouted tdi him:
“Two notes lower, your honor; C; youlmust
sing C.” J
Instead of singing C, the stranger pulled off
one of his shoes and fiung it at the organist’s
head, making the powder fly in clouds. Seeing
this, the burgomaster thought to himself: rHa 1
his bodily infirmity has got hold of him again ;”
and seizing him by the neck, he loosened the<
buckle of his cravat. But, at this, the youngj
man’s conduct became only the more outrageous.*
lie dropped the use of German, and cqhfined
himself to an extraordinary and unintelligible
language, taking all the while the ikost tremen
dous leaps. The burgomaster was in despair
at this unpleasant interruption to the entertain
ment, and instantly resolved to take off entire
ly the cravat of the young Englishman.swhom
some unusually violent paroxysm must have
suddenly seized.. But no sooner had he done
this, than he started back aghast. Instead of a
human skin and complexion, a dark brown fur
enveloped the neck of the youthful stranger,
who instantly proceeded upon still higher and
more marvellous leaps ; and, twisting hiq white
gloves into his hair, he pulled it entirely off,
and, wonder of;wonders 1 this beautiful hair
was only a wig, which he threw into thejburgo
masters face, and his head made its appearance
clothed in the same brown fur as his neck.
He overturned tables and benches, 3 threw
down music-stands, smashed the fiddles and
clarionets, and in short behaved like a lunatic.
“Seize him 1 seize him 1 shouted the-burgomas
ter, beside himself; “he is raving;—seize;him 1”.
This, however, was a difficult matter, forjhe had
pulled off his gloves, and showed his I brown
hands, armed with frightful nails, with which
he assaulted the faces of the company. A
courageous huntsman at length succeeded in
taking him prisoner. He pressed his long arms
down to his sides, so that ho could do nothing
except struggle with his feet, and laugh and
shriek in a piercing voiep. The audieneje gath
ered around to look at the eccentric young gen
tleman, who by this time had lost every-sem
blance of a human being. Among them, a
learned gentleman of the environs, who pos
sessed a large collection of stuffed animals, ap
proached him and, after a close examination,
suddenly exclaimed, “Good God 1 ladles and
gentlemen, why do you admit this feast into
good society ? This is an ape, the homo tr-iglo
dites Linnosi, and I will give you six dollars for
him, if you like, and stuff him for my cabinet.”
Fancy the astonishment of the citizens of
Grunwiesel, when they heard this. rWhat!
an ape, an orang-outang in our best Society 1
The young Englishman nothing but h. filthy
ape 1” They stared at each other in dumb be-,
wilderment. They could not believe ft; they
would not trust their eyes, and they ei amined
the animal more narrowly ; but, gaze! as they
pleased, a vulgar ape ho was, and a vulgar ape
he remained. ■
“It must be sorcery, devilish sorceris 1” said
the burgomaster, bridging the ape’s ;cravat. —
“Look 1 here in this cravat lies the witchcraft
which has blinded our eyes. Hero isja broad
strip of parchment, inscribed with istrange
characters. It is Latin, I believe; can anybody
rend it?” }’
The pastor, a man of extensive learn]
had often lost a game of chess to tl|
Englishman, stepped up, and, lookinl
parchment said, “Certainly, this is La
means
“This ape u? a very ridiculous creature,
And to see through and shun false pretensions will
“Ay, ay; it is an infernal swindle ;|
a species of witchcraft,” he continue
should meet with esamplary punishmd
The burgomaster was of the same!
and started forthwith to arrest the |
who could be nothing but a magician,
diets carried the ape, for they were d(
to bring the old scoundrel to instant t
They reached the desolate house, fol
a crowd of people, for every one wan'
how the affair would end. They kr
the door, they pulled the bell; but a,
—no one showed himself in answer tqj their ap
peals. The burgomaster finally caiised the
door to be beaten in, and mounted td the sick
man’s chamber. Nothing was to bej seen but
old, worthless household rubbish. The stran
ger had vanished. On his writing-table, how
ever, lay a large, sealed letter, addressed to the
burgomaster, which the latter opened. lie
read: |
“Mi- DEAR GttUSWIESELOSIASS : iVhoil YOU
read this I shall be no longer in your village,
and you will have discovered the rank and na
tion of my darling nephew. Takes the joke
which I have ventured to play upon you as a
good lesson not to insist on inflicting your so
ciety upon a stranger, when he wishes to live
in retirement. I felt myself too weilSbred to be
involved in your eternal tattle, your jbad man
ners, and your ridiculous customs. I procured
therefore, the young orang-outang, whom you
have caressed so affectionately, to. act as my
substitute. Farewell, my friends, and lay’this
lesson to heart," |
The citizens of Grunweisel were the laugh
ing stock of the whole country, and felt intense
ly mortified. Their consolation was, that all
this must have been brought about by super
natural means. But the greatest j confusion
was felt by| the young men of the citjy, for they
bad made |the bad manners of a beastly ape
the -object of their approval and itfaitation.—
Henceforth they ceased to lean thein elbows on
the table; they balanced themselves no longer
on their chairs; they were silent tilljaddressed,
and became modest and civil as of did; and it
became a byword with the Grunwmselonians,
when any one showed signs of relapsing into
Rates of Advertising.
Advertisements will be charged $1 per square of 14
lines, one or three insertions, and 25 cents for every
subsequentjinsertion. Advertisements of less than 14
lines considered as a square. The subjoined rates will
be charged for Quarterly, Half-Yearly, asd Yearly ad
vertisements :
Square, >.
2 do. |
i column, *-
i do.
\
' Column, j- - 18,W 40,00
Advertisements not having the number of insertions
desired marked upon them, 'will be published until or*
derod out and charged accordingly.
Posters, Handbills, Bill-Heads, Letter-Heads and all
kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, ex
ecuted neatly and promptly. Justices', Constables*,
and township BLANKS : Notes, Bonds, Deeds, Mort
gages, Declarations and other Blanks, constantly on
hand, or pointed to order.
no. 29.
such, vulgar and ridiculous practices* to
him “the old gentleman’s ape.”
The orang-outang, who had played bo long
the part o[f a gentleman of fashion, was hand
ed over to the proprietor of the cabinet of nat
ural history. This gentleman feeds him, gives
him the run of his yard, and shows him to
every stranger as a great rarity; and there bo
is to be seen to the present day.
COMMUNICATIONS.
Every age has its hero, and every session of
Congress jhas some question before its honorable
body which never fails to excite an interest
throughout the entire length and breadth of
our country. One year ago Lecompton stood
knocking at the door of Congress; the hired
minions 6f Slavery, or in other words, the great,
virtuous'(?) and hitherto undivided Democratic?
party, using every conceivable means—
wqre prostrating every part and parcel of our
government to make the good people of these
United States, through their -representatives in
Congress, believe that Lecompton was just the
thing by iwhicb the freemen of Kansas should
be! governed. But their brazen attempt to force
a constitution upon the freemen of that Terri
tory whiph.they detested almost as they detes
ted the sqoty gentleman himself, and which they
apd ths world know very well was in opposition
to | the will of a great majority of her citizens,
having sfy completely, so beautifully met a po
litical death, some new project must needs be
inyentedj by which out glorious union for an
other four years may be saved from all the hor
ror of violent and terrible dissolution; and the
stealing of Cuba appears to have met with a
hearty reception from the patriotic and unas
piring leaders of the present so-called Demo
cratic patty, who instinctively believe in u man~
ifesfUesiiny” and go in for carrying their no
tion into] effect practically, |
jSome time since men stodd upon the floor of
our national legislature and spake of the West
Indies as “oi/r southern isles” Some three
years since Messrs. Buchanan, Mason and Soulh
met in an obscure little inn in an obscure little
town, arid “by virtue of the powers vested in
them,” put forth the rioted and ever-to-be-remem
bered document known as the “Ostend Mani
festo,” in which the noble, soul-stirring, liberty
inspiring sentiment was plainly and unequivo
cally enunciated, which has been used very
successfully by the nobler assassin from time
immemorial, that “might makes right.” In so
many words we were unblushingly told by this
trio of ‘humanitarians that if Spain refused
whatevey sutri the President and Congress in
the plerititude of their wisdom and power saw
fit to give her for Cuba, then, in such event thri
dear people of these United States would be
justifledrby every la\fr “either human or divine”
to take forcible possession of the “gem of the
Antilles;”
j And to-day a bill is pending before Congress,
requiring thirty millions to be placed in the
hands of James Buchanan, to be used at bis
.discretion in the acquirement of Cuba, and for
annexation of Cuba to be wholly in opposition
to the true policy of our country to-day.
•j In the first place we could not purchase her
if we would. Spain, though she may have been
for many Ibng years waning away, yet she is
still jealous of her dignity and would resist
any attempt of aggression as soon as ever. To
every offer of purchase she invariably returns
an emphatic xo. ,-She tells us respectfully but
firmly that she is not k\ the market—that she
needs njbt our cash to fill her coffers—that all
she ask’s of us is'to leave her alone—that while
she covets hot our mighty- territory, she hopes
we willicease attempting to bully Cuba from
her. Upon this point, the whole of Spain are
united they are willing to suffer any and
everything rather than Cuba be forced
from And even if Spain were willing to
convey iCuba to us, we behold another lion in
the path. The determination of France and
Englank is known the world over. They never
will permit the American Eagle to lay violent
Hands upon Cuba. They are willing that it
should temain in the hands of Spain, but will
never suffer it to be annexed to one of the most
formidable governments to-day in existence.
we commence, so will they, and every
intelligent citizen knows full well that when
ye begin to dictate terms to Spain—a weaker
nation,[we have violated- the law of nations,
and that every nation is pot only justified by
rihum.ap and divine” laws to sene an injection
upon tpe proceeding, but that the great law of
Ing, who
B young
g at the
[tin, and
each you.”
in itself
;d, “and
nt.”
opinion,
stranger,
I Six sol
termined
lowed by
led to see
locked at
II in vain
self preservation would render it incumbent up—
on them to espouse the cause of Spain.
I Agajn, if Spain would sell Cuba and other
powers would not interfere, what real benefit
would [she be to the citizens of these United
States*? Reader, would you and lin the event
of be benefftted one single iota,
only saddling a mighty debt upon those that
are tol.come after us? Every foot o£ tillabU
land already’ occupied—it is wholly covered
with a-peoplc whose every idea of government
is foreign to our own. Their religion is differ
ent, thfeir customs are different, and should they
|be anrjcxed it would be but bringing a hetero
geneous mass beneath our flag which can never
jbe made to act and think as we do.
And if Spain was free to dispose of her,
jwherejis your two hundred millions to come
jfrom?. For though the resolutionjiow pending
places'.only thirty millions in the hands of the
President, yet this is only earnest money to
bind the bargain, and if he choose to give five
hundred millions it would have to be paid un
less he forfeit the said thirty millions. Several
years Ssince she refused one hundred and twenty
millions, and if she were in a selling mood she
probably could not be induced to jjart with her
for double that sum. Two years* ago we had
nearly fifty millions in the treasury. Now that
is gone and the receipts for the past year have
been twenty millions less than the expenses.—
During the coming year the expenditures wili,
by present indications, be forty millions great
than ipr income, and if so, is it not pecuniarily
impossible to purchase Cuba without burdening
our posterity with a mighty national debt which
they will be obliged to pay merely to insure
3 MONTHS. 6 MONTHS. 13 MONTH*-
$2,50- $4,54 $6,00
4.00 6,00 8,00
6.00 8,00 10,00
10,00 15,00 30,00
For the Agitator.
Shall We Buy Cuba?