!
IS n
I
I havo Sworn, upon tho Altar of OOd, eternal hostility to every form of Tyranny over thc-Mliid of Mail." Thomas Jefferson.
MINTED AND PUBLISHED BY II. WEBB,
Volume IV.
BliOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA CiMMTY, FA. SAOTISBAlf, AFKIKi 3, 1841.
ItfiiEtilicr
i
kv
OFFICE OF THE DEMOCRAT,
Orrosrris St. Paul's Church, Main-st
The COLUMBIA DEMOCRAT will be
published even Saturday morning, at
TWO DOLLARS per annum, payable
half pearly in advance, or Two Dollars
Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year.
iVb subscription will bcluken for a shorter
bcriod than xlx.vionths ; nofnny discon
tinuance permitted-, until all arrearages
arc discharged.
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding a
square ivill be conspicuously inserted at
One Dollar Jor tlic jirst three insertions
mnl Twcnl'v-five cents for evcrv siibsc'
qitent nscrllon. ICP A liberal discount
made to those who advertise by the year.
LETTERS addrtsscd on business, must
be post paid.
THE STEM BO. 'IT.
X1Y OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, 'ESQ.
See how yon flaming herald treads
Tho high and rolling wave,
As crashing o'er their crested heads,
She hows her surly slaves !
Willi foam before and lire behind,
Sho rends the clinging sea,
That flics bofore tho roaring wind,
Beneath her hissing lee.
Tho morning spray, like sea-born flowers
With heaped and glistening bells,
Falls round her fast, in ringing showers;
With every wave that swells;
And flaming o'er the midnight deep,
In lurid fringes thrown,
Tho living gems of ocean sweep
Along her flashing zone.
.
With clashing Wheel, and lifting keel;
And smoking torch on high,
"IV lion winds are loud, and billows reel)
SIio thunders foaming by !
"When seas aro silent and sercno
With even beam she glides,
Tho sun shino glimmering through the green
That skirts her gleaming sides.
Now, lifco tho wild nymph, far apart,
She veils her shadowy form,
The beating of her restless heart
Still sounding through the storm;
Now answers like a courtly dame;
Tho reddening surges o'er,
With flying scarf of spangled flame
The Pharos of tho shore.
To-night yen pilot shall not sleep,
Who trims his narrowed sail;
To-night yon frigate scarce shall keep
Her broad breast to tho gale;
And many a foresail, scooped and strained
Shall break from yard and stay,
Before this smoky wreath has stained
Tho rising mist of day.
Hark ! hark 1 1 hear yon whistling shroud,
I see yon quivering mast;
Tho black throat of tho hunted cloud
Is panting forth tho blast 1
An hout, and whirled liko winnowing chaff,
Tho giant surge shall fling
His tresses o'er yon pennant taff,
White as the sea bird's wing 1
Yo rest, ye wanderers of tho doepj
Nor wind nor wave shall tire
Those fleshlcss arm?, whoso pulses leap
With floods of living firo.
lecp on and when the morning light
Streams o'er the shining bay,
O think of thoso for whom tho night
Shall never wako in day I
AN ACROSTIC.
T ouch not the bright but ever mad'ning
bowl,
E lso honor, fame and purity of soul
M ust sink into the ruin it will bring
P erish beneath its deadly pois'nous sling,
E nlicing though in form.brighUo tho viow,
It ich in sweet frangrauco and of a brilliant
hue,
A n imp of dark design lurks in each drop,
N eslles secure within tho sparkling cup;
C casunoUobani8h,lhcn,tho pois'nous bowl,
E re life & health shall fado 'neath its control.
Vrom tho Picoyunc.
A LEAP YEAR STOItYi
pori'ixo Tin: question.
' But why don't you get married t' said
bouncing girl, with a laughing eye, to
a smooth-faced, innocent looking youth
who blushed up to the eyes at the question.
Wall. I ' o!l tl,o yoi'ih,- stoppine
short with a gasp; and fixing his eyes up
on vacancy with a puzzled and foolish ex
pression.
Well, go on; you what?' said tho fair
cross-questioner, almost imperceptibly in
clining nearer to the young man. ' Now
just tell mo right straight out, you what J'
Why, I Oil, pshaw, I don't know'.'
' You do, I say you do know, come I
want to know.'
0, I can't tell you'
1 1 say you can. Why you know i'll
never mention it, and you may tell me of
course, you know, fdr haven't I always been
your friend V
- Well, you have, I know,' replied the
beleaguered youth.
' And 1 m sure I always thought you lik
ed me,' went on the maiden in tender and
mellow accents.
' O, I do, upon my word yes, indeed I
do Maria, said the unsophisticated youth,
very warmly, and he found that Maria had
unconsciously placed her hand in his open
palm.
Then there was a silence.
4 And then well, John V said Maria,
dropping her eyes to ihe ground.
Eh! Oh well? said John, dropping
his eyes and Maria's hand at the same mo
ment. I'm pzotly. - curo-you lovo-oomobody,-
John; in fact,' said Maria; assuming again
a tono of raillery, ' I know you're in lovo,
and John why don't you tell me all about it
at onco ?'
' Well, I
Well, I.'O you silly mortal, what is
there to be afraid of!'
Oh, it aint because I'm afraid of any
thing at all, and I'll well now Maria, I'll
toll you.1
' Well now, John !'
I'
'Eh?'
'I'
Yes.'
' i am in love ! now o;i7 tell you
wont will you ?' said John, violently seiz
ing Maria by the hand, aad looking in her
faco with a most imploring expression.
' Why, of course you know, John, I'll
never breathe a word of it you know I
wont, don't you, John ?' This was spoken
in a mellow whisper, and the cherry lips of
Maria were so near John's ear when she
spoke, that had he turned his head to look at
her there might havo occured an exceeding
ly dangerous collision.
' Well, Mari,' said John, ' I've told you
now, and so you shall know all about it.
I havo always thought a great deal of you,
and'
' Yes, John.'.
I am suro you would do any thing for
mo that you could'
' Yes, John, you know I would.1
Well, I thought so, and you don't know
how long I've wanted to talk to you about
it.'
' I declare, John, I you might havo told
me long ago if you wanted, for I'm suro I
never was angry with you in ray life.'
' No, you wasn't; and I havo often felt
a great mind io, but'
It's not too late now, you know, John.
1 Well, Maria.do you think I'm too young
to get married ?'
Indeed I do not, John; and I know it
would bo a good thing for you loo, for ove
ry body says tho sooner young people aro
married the bolter, when they are prudent
and inclined to lovo another.
That's just what I think; and now, Ma
ria, I do want to get married, and if you'll
just '
Indeed 1 will John, for you know I
was always partial to you, and I've said so
often behind your back.
Well I declare I've all along thought
you might object, and that's the reason 1'vo
been always afraid to ask you.
'Object ! no, Pd djo first you may ask of
me just any thing jdu plcaso.'
' And you'll giant it?'
' Then, Maria, I want you to pop the
question for tne to Mary Sullivan, for'
' What.
Eh?' I
.' Do you lovo Mar Sullivan?'
' O, indeed I do with all my heart!'
I always thoughtyou was a fool.'
'Eh!'
' I say you'ro a foil, and you'd belter go
nome, your mother ,waiits you you you
stupid!' exclaimcjd tho mortified Maria in
a shrill treble, and sic gave poor John a slap
on the check that scut him reeling. It was
noonday, and vet jahn declares he saw my
riads of stars flash jig all around him, more
than ho ever saw before in tho night time.
Poor Maria
Never told her love.
But let concoalmcntdike a worm i'lho bud,
Prey on her damask cheek.'
Thus, alas, how often are tho goms of
young affection cast away ! For it is but
loo true, as David Crockett beautifully ex
presses it.
' The courso of true lovers never did run
smooth 1' 1
The Reporter for the New York Evening
Tatiler, is a clever fellow, of infinite fun,a
good naturcd but close observer of human
tiature. Many of his uketches arc fully
equal to Dickens. He will yet be the
Boz of this country. The following, (not
one of his best.) is from the Tattler. It
describee a sceno in 'the New York Police
Court;
' Where is John Vandyke ?'
' Hero him ish !' answered a Dutchman,
with his arm in a sling.
' Hah ! you'ro the fellow that killed tha
man with his own boot,'
' Mino Got, no him ish not dead yet I
am two times so dead as Mishcr Dclcroix,
mineshelf.'
' Whcra is Paul Delcroix, that said ho
was killed last night.'
' Hah ! dat is mo !' answered a French
man with a noso considerably the worse of
the wear, or rather tho tear and a pair of
eyes in a deep suit of morning: for tho
which they were probably indebted to a
certain collision which had taken place be
tween tho aforementioned boot and his nasal
protuberance, 'Ilah, dat is me Monsieur,
so long as I am mysclf;but ven I look in do
glass dis morning, in on Dieu, I cannot tink
dat I am myself at all.'
' Why man, you'ro not dead as you re
ported.' ' Non pas; I no siy I vas so dead as von
you shall put me in.de coffin, but ven I am
come to do watch house last night, I cannot
sco vit mine eye : an' I cannot talk vit mine
mout; an I cannot vaijc vit mine feel; an
ven I no can sec, an io can talk, and no
can valft, begar I shall tink I am dead e
nough.' What did Vandyke slriko you for?'
' Je ne sais pas ! Helas ! I nvc not done
to him any ting so leetlo as nothing at all.'
' Dat ish nod dhruo mine Got 1 dat ish
nod dhrue !' exclaimed tho prisoner. 'I go
out of my room and I leavo him mitnut
no pody in him but rains vrow; and ven
I ish vent town down dhroe hours I vash
gome pack to mine room, but ven I look
in him vere I left no pody but mino rrow,
teefel and du.ider, dero I see Mynheer
Delcroix sitlin mine vrow's lap, an mitout
no boots on.'
' Ha ! it vas all von bagalello von leetle
mistake! I livo in denext room from Mon
steitr Vandykes; an ven I am tinkin I am in
my own room begar I shall find myself in
Monsieur Vandyke's room, an not in my
own room at all.'
' Bnl,mine Got, you could nod raishdake
mino vrow for your vrow, for mine vrow is
more den so pig ash dwo of her.'
Monsieur Dflw W fea yu have heen
at some naughty tricks,' observed the mag- j
istralc. 1
' Fi do vous.Monsieur I me am not von
naughty triek r.o sate I can prove de
charactaro morale.'
' Can you prove you weren't sitting in
this man's wife's lap ?' asked his worship.
1 Ven him broves him washn't 1 shall
brovc he vaah,' returned the Dutchman.
Diablo you shall not prove him, but you
shall ask Madamo Vandyke, an ven sho say
I am silting in her lap Mon Dieu, I shall
say no more '
1 Ha, dat ith no goot,mynheer for mine
vrow is suro not to tell de druth mitout she
can't help him. An den dero ish de boots;
an mino Got, how vill he brove do vashn't
off ven do vashn't oiii an ven I had dem in
mine own dwo hands, an hit him on de nosh
mit dem ?'
This appeared to bo a home thrust to tho
Gaul, in spite of his 'character morale;' for
he merely responded to it by giving his
shoulders a shrug, that nearly placed them
on the top of his hcad;and so matters stood
when a huge link in the chain of the fair
sex waddled forward, and stated to tho ef
fect that she was ophar to all tho particu
lars. This fair one turned out to bo no
less a personage than tho immaculate Mrs.
Vandyke, and as her worse half had indi
cated, was in all- probability more than
twico as large as tho Frenchman's wife,
for she was, to say tho least of her, at
least double the size of tho Frenchman him
self. Immodiatcly upon presenting herself be
fore the court, this substantial apparition
plunged heels over head into a most elo
quent harangue, touching the spotlessness
of her own virtue, and tho innocence of the
Frenchman; but as this harangue was done
up nine-tenths in low Dutchi and tho odd
one-tenth in such marvellously high English
that it was altogether beyond tho reach of
our comprehension wo couldn't keep tho
run of it; and havo therefore meiely to add,
that it was pretty conclusively proved that
tho whole affair was the upshot of a drunken
squabble in which the Dutchman was chief
ly guilty and that, in accordance with the
petition of the slandered vrow, and as the
Frenchman gallantly designed to prosecute,
the case was dismissed.
SPRING.
We cannot lift up out eyes, in this de
lightful season, wiihout being lemp'.ed to
ask, on what principle can wo account for
ihe beauty of Spring? Winter has shades
as deep, and colors as brilliant; and the
great forms of naturo are substantially tho
same, through all tho revolutions of the
year. Wo shall 6cek in vain, therefore, in
the accidents of mere organic matter,for the
sources of thafvernal delight," which sub
ject all finer spirits to an annual intoxication
and strike homo tho sense of beauty even
to hearts that seem proof against it under
all oth'Jr respects. And it is not among the
dead, hut among the living, that this beauty
originalts; It is the renovation of life and
joy to all animated beings, thai constitutes
tho great jubilee of nature; tho young of
animals bursting into existence tho simple
and univeisal pleasures which arc diffused
by the mere temperature of ihe air; and tho
profusion of sustenance tho pairing of
birds the cheerful resumption of rustic
toils tho groat alleviation of all the mise
ries of poverty and sickness our sympathy
with ihe young life, aud the promise and
the hazards of tho vegetablo creation the
solemn, yet cheering impression of tho con
stancy of nature to her great periods of ren
ovation and tho hopes that dart spontane
ously forward into the now circle of exer
tions and enjoyments that is opened up by
her hand and her example. Such are some
of he conceptions that aro forced upon us
by tho appearances of returning Spring.and
that seem to account for the emotions of do
light with which those appearances aro
hailed, by every mind endowed with any
degree of sensibility, somewhat better than
the brightness of colors, or tho agreeable
nessof the smells, that aro then presented
'o our senses.
A LUCKY LOSS.
Graf Schlabondorf was a most singular
person, a sort of strange German Coleridgo
more', however, of a philosopher and a poli
tician than liko q poct,ltving a hermit in tho
bustling history of revolutionary Paris
miserly in small things, tho lord of a garret,
slovenly in hi3 attire, and cherishing a beardj'
but generous, even magnificent) on a largo
scale, and actuated in all things by motives
of the purest paliiolism and most disinter
cstel benevolence; a character ready rnado
for Sir Walter Scott'. The man, as a for
eigner and German aristocrat1, and also as
the esteemed friend of Condorcot, Mercicrj
Brissot, and the unfortunate Girondist par
ly, naturally enough, during the reign of
terror, was more lhan 'suspected of being
suspected,' and sat, for many days, first id
the Conciergerio and then in the Luxcmi
bourg, in constant expectation of the guillo
tine. Ho escaped, however, after all
strangely enough, saving his life by loos,
ing his boots! Varnlugau Von Enlo relates
tho circumstances as follows :
One morning tho dcath-oart carao for ito
usual number of daily victims, and Sclila
bondorf's namo was called out. Ho imme
diately, with ihe greatest coolness and good(
humor; preprcd for departuro presenco ol
mind in some shape, a grand etoicisra or
mere indiiTeroncc, wore common in thoso
terriblo limes. And Schlabendorf was not
the man to make an ungraceful dcpailure
when tho unavoidable must of fatb stood
stonily beforo him. Ho was soon 'dressed;
only his boots were missing: lis sought and
sought, and the jailor sought with him in his
corner, and in lhat, but they were not to bd
found. 'Well.'said Schlabendorf sharply ,'td
bo gullentined without my boots will never
do. Hark yo ! my-good friends,' continued
ho, with siraplo good humor to the jailor;
'take mo to-morrow; one day makss no diP
feronce; it is the man they want; not Tues
day or Wednesday.' Tho jailor agreed.
Tho wagon, full enough wiihout that ono
head, went off to its destination. Schlabon
dorf remained in prison. Next morning.at
tho usual hour, the vehicle rcturned,and tho
victim who had so strangoly escaped on the
previous day was ready, boots and all, wait
ing for the word of command. But,bchold!
his name was not heard that day, nor tho
third day, nor tho fourth, and not at aM.
'Thcro was no mystery in the mailer.
It was naturally supposed he had fallen
with tho other victims named for tho origi
nal dsy;in the multitude of sufferers no one
could curiously inquire for an individual;
for the days that followed they wero enough
of victims wiihout him, and so ho remained
in prison till the fall of Robespierre, when,
with so many others ho recovered his liber
ty. He owed his miraculous escape, not
the least strange in tho strango history of
tho Revolution, partly to the kindness of
the jailor, partly and mainly to his good
temper. Ho was a universal favorite m tho
jail.' Foreign Quarterly Rebiew for Jan
uary.
LIME IN PLANTING TREES.
An English paper says that a large plan
tation of trees within tho last few years has
been formed without tho loss of a singlo
tree, and this has been achieved by a sim
pie process; it is merely by putting a small
quantity of limo in the hole with the plant.
About four bushels or limo will suffice for
an acre. It must be thoroughly mixed and
incorporated with tho mbuld beforo tho
plant is inserted. The offeel of lime is td
push on tho growth of tho plant in the first
precarious slate; new fibres begin to forrd
and ramify from tho taproot, and not only
is tho safety insured, but its growth is ad
vanced in double ratio. There existed at
first, an apprehension that liming tho
plant would force it on prematurely, but
this apprehension is proved to have been!
groundless,
Laconic Never despise si man because!
his employment is mean, or his clothing U
bad. Tho bco is an insect that is not very
pleasing to tho sight, vol its hive aflbrds art
abundance of honoy;
,1
ft