Newspaper Page Text
THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
JSU W. Weaver Proprietor.]
- i *
THE STAR OF THE NORTH
Is published every Thursday Morning, by
R. W. WEAVER.
OFFICE—Up stairs in the New BrickbuiltUng
on the south sitle of Main street, third
square below Market.
TERMS s—' Two Dollars per annum, if paid
Within six months from the time of subscri
bina two dollars and fifty cents if not paid
within the year. No subscription received
'for a less period than six months: no discon
t nuance permitted until all arrearages are
piid, unless at the option of the editors.
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square,
will be inserted three times for one dollar, and
twenty-five oents for each additional insertion
A liberal discount will be made to those who atl
vertise by the year.
wUOTE, MUSIC, AND MOONLIGHT.
'T.was on a balmy eve of June,
While-softly gleamed the rising moon
Above a pillowing oloud, whose snow
Seemed bathed in that celestial glow-
All sounds of earth and air w here mute,
When first I heaid thy silvery lute ;
Bright was the eve, and blest the hour
When first I saw thee, beauty's flower.
The calm, the scene, the fairy tone—
Into my thoughts like light have gone;
Entranced lay earth; the stars aronr.d
Blue heaven seemed twinkling to the sound ,
As floated far the notes along.
The blackbird hushed his evening song ;
The murmuring stream and rippling sea
Drew still, and listened, envying tliee.
Oh wh.tf ecstacy, that night,
Kind fhte lOetowed to sound and sight—
The sight was what we meet, perchance, !
Only in page of old romance ;
The sound was lite the lovelorn breeze, j
That steals at nigtu f° wo ° treeß i
And mingling, both jrftde P oor earl ' l seem i
Not man's abode, but fan")' 8 dream.
There beauty'* circling zone si/bdued
The spirit to love'* melting mood ;
The radiant and the rare combined
Of sin and grief the sense to blind;
No gloomy doubts or dreams oppressed |
The bright elysium of the breast;
A*i off flew sorrow, like the grey
01 twilight from the glance of day !
Floated the elfin musio fine
Through net-work of the eglantine, I
While moonbeams pierced the leaves be- |
To see thee-ar.il to make thee seen; [tween
And there thou siood'sl all glowing bright !
With alabfcster brow of light,
As 'twere an angel come to see
What a thing a world like our* can be!
[The following ploasanl article was read
as a prize essay at a late anniversary cele
bration of the Albany Female Academy.] '
THE AGE OF JOSATIIAN. !
BY MISS MARY" MATHER, OF FLINT, MICH. j
The most disagreeable period of human
life is that questionable era when one is ;
neither boy nor man—that graceless self- '
conceited age so fecund of mischief, colt
breaking, bird's nesting and orchard-robbing;
so brim-full of wordy courage, debating so- ;
cieties, pomatum and old pistols. When (
vanity is yet uncurbed by reason, and the 1
destructive propensities are rampant; when ,
the sentiments, if they exist at all, are in
limbo, and the rude energies and activities
are impatient of the least restraint. When |
one is a representative of all unattractive
good-for-naught creatures. When he is, in
short, pragmatical as a learned pig; whist,
ling and crowing Irom dawn till dark like a
musical chanticleer—and as continually oil ,
the aggressive of a courageous-barking pup-
Vet, in spite of all this, bow beautiful and ,
significant is youth ! For beneath this rough ,
exterior we perceive the germ of a noble
ardor, a self-sacrifice and enthusiasm sel- |
dom found when years and cares, and disap
pointments have embittered life, and robbed
the future of its glory.
Historians tells us that nations, like tndi- j
vi duals, have their allotted period of exi9t
once : that they come forth from the night of
barbarism to the freshness and poetry of
youth—reach a certain point of advance
ment, grow old and feeble, and finally per
ish. Greece and Rome died centuries ago,
le.ariug us a few volumns, posthumous re- '
cool* io this effect. China, more phlegmat
ic, has existed much as do amphibia in ros
iil beds, in a cold blooded, dormant siate,
without pulsation or the consciousness of
being. Standing on the shores of the new
world, and obsei yiug the restlessness and
recklessness, the pei'verse and lawless spirit
at work, we are led to e.volaim, It must be
so !—Every thing here indic'.Rtee the transi j
lion stage, the boyhood of the nation,
AVhat other are Wild-cat specnlations, Mm- |
icap and Cuban expeditions, than mere!
water melon stealing and boy-buccaneering
of henroosts! What Ohio Legislature and
United States' Senate controversies but the
polemics of FiiticuA in his sixteenth year.
Reasoning from experience, this young
Jonathan of the nineteenth century must be :
short lived. Promoted to "striped trowers"
at so tender an age", so early thrown upon
his resources, evincing such precocious
shrewdness at bargains—must not his matu
rity and old age arrive with a proportional
. There is one hope for him He has shown
no remarkable gepius for music, painting
nor poetry. His healthy mediocrity in these
branches permits the hope that he may sur
vive the usual melancholy fate of preraa-
turn genius. Besides, * hardiness and in
trepidity were early developed in him by
rocgh toil among granite hills and unproduc
tive valleys; by roving the forest and wa
ging war with the wolf and the savage until,
like Bis young shepherd of other days, he
feared rfo Qolieh. Quite in accordance with
)U.OOMSmfRfI. COLOMBIA THURSDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1850.
tho disrespectful tendency of bis age, *u it,
that his first essay of military gallantry
should have been to flog his mother.—Time
and reflection have as yet begotten no shame
for so unnatural an act. Far otherwise I it
is his boast at debating societies, stump
orations and Fourth pf Julys. Indeed, but
fbr his enthusiast io veneration of "smart
ness," his mad demonstrations of worshipful
respect to superanuated captains and gener
als of militia—and his eagerness to apotheo
size whatever is deemed superior in pirouet
ting or novel-writing: we might question if
his organ of reverence be not wholly flat
tened and dissolved. What effect the melo
dious bewitchments of the Swedish song
stress will produce upon him, is a curious
problem. Will his intoxication stop short of
Spite of one instance to the contrary, Jon
athan is the most gallant soul alive.—The
age of chivalry never produced a more ten
der and heroic champion, no! of high-bom
dames and maidens of glortous beauty, but
of that trustful and refined idea which we
name womanhood. He is almost too courte
leous and submissive, for "frailty" grows
presuming, and hardly deigns to acknowl
edge his civilities.—Unthanked, he carries
basket and bird-cage, umbrella, bandbox
and baby, while she as a matter of course
leans helplessly upon his good-natured left
elbow. In travelling by car or stage-coach,
how noticeable this amiable trait When a
a lady enters, John doggedly adheres to his
comfortable cushioned coiner, surveys her
with a cool and indiflerenl stare, and re"
aumes his nap; but Jonathan instantaneous
ly unpockets his hands, oxpectororates to
the left, and,resigns his seat. Such a polite
ness should not be unacknowledged because
"he chews." All boys of a certain unrea
sonable age grow lanterned-jawed upon
spruce gum and Burgundy pitch, but a little
reflection teaches them better. We notice
indications of a growiog sense on this point
and promise that he will yet reform in time
to save his teeth and his nervous constitu-
But there is one feature in his case which
strikes us as lamentable, and tending to la
mentable results, lei loose to browse at
will upon the luxuriant pasturage of this new
world, gluttony is growing upon him una
ware. His chief idea of happineea—his
home of bliss, is eating. His holy-days are
festivals, and ho expresses his gratitude for
every blessing by gourmamhzing. Accord
ing to his vocabulary Thanksgiving means
pumpkin-pie, cider and roast turkey: Christ
mas anil Now-Years are defined ahieken
sakul and sausages; Fourth of July every
thing eatable, not to say digestible. His
soirees and conversaziones are great displays
of whip cream and confectionery, got up of
ten with much taste and expense; and which
the main enjoyment of the evening consists
in disfiguring and devouring. It is remark
uble that this felicity should be so hurriedly
despatched, but it accords with his eager
and arid nature. Years and experience a
lone, teach men to eat, Nature is more kind
to other animals.
This fierce and restless energy bears the
appearance of an unhealthy excitement.
What is it that keeps him moving from ten
ement o tenement every first of May l What
keeps turn continually guessing, and expect
ing, and whittling, and drumming on bis
chair? What is it tbal impels him to carve
his name so industriously in rocks and caves
where none but bats and wood-pigeons will
find it ? Wit destrucliveness, a thirst for
immortality—or the utter impossibility of
quietude that possesses him, to scrawl his
ungraceful autographs on trees where they
must soon grow out of ell legibility, on the
walls and window panes of steamboats and
hotels, on barn doors and the ily leaves of
circulating library books ? We find such
traces on the pyramids of Egypt, on the co
lossal pillars of the cave Elephanta, and on
the door posts of the Greenbush koseboat.
But this is not all. Mis analytic mind is sel
dom satisfied without chipping off speci
mens of ewerv thing curious. His taste for
this species of plunder is as indiscriipina
tingas voracious, and he prizes equally a
bit of Napoleon's ceffin halt a pair of chop
slicks, a pinch of the chryelalization suppos
ed to be Lot's wife, a Inree cornered scrap of
satin snipped from (be dress of Madam Jus
seau's wax figures, a lew hairs stolen from
the mummy at the Museum, or a corner of
(he golhic railing at the capitol. These are
all the more valuable if a little expertness is
requisite to obtain them.
Plymouth rock had the honor of the first
gaiflte from his peg boot*. Therefore it is a
celebriij'. and he never passes without car
rying off A fragment of it,—Bernbes he
builds little specimens into the corners of his |
meeting houses and distribute* small bite a
raong hie friends byway of amulet. In this,
manner the whole rock had ere now been
destroyed, but that commercial interests re
quired that a wharf should be built ovet it.
No respect for "storied um or animated
bust" deters him. He will shy a stone at
the fieise of Washington's monument, as
unconcernedly as at the street lamp.—Red
Jacket's wooden monument was twice re
newed, and twice whittled to the giound,
when Placide erected him ooe of marble.
From this the name and inscription are part
ly effaced, and the wbole upper portion is
destroyed. A chief told me Jonathan did it.
Why did not his mother leach him that a
simple flower, or blade of grass plucked |
there would be a far more tasteful and res. I
pootful momeiito of (he great aaabem 1
He vsttpld blast off Aofhony's nose merely
for the sake of seeing it uunble into the
water, with as much nouclialanee as he
would pocket the noso of the Belvidere, or
eject tobacco juice upon the master pieces of
Persico and Caudva.—He 'oves birds ; yet
he cannot see an innocent warbler quietly
perched without spasimcdioally aiming a
pebble or an old pistol at it, and the result is
almost surely fatal to poor Peede.
A tearful spirit of unrest, headlong and
heedless as that which drove the swine into
the sea, seem to have dominion oyer him.
Sometimes it assumes the appearance of in
subordination, and raises Astor Place and
Philadelphia riots ; at other times it is a
spirit of preserve and pickle jar exploration
eager to search out the mysteries of the
moon, or Symme's Hole—or some forbidden
orchard. It goads him into the forest in pur
suit of wild-cats and grizzly bears,—up anil
down the prauies in hot chase after the
mustang and fierce buffalo,—or across boun
dless waste and wilderness to lay his sun
burnt and fevered cheek upon the yellow,
cheerless sands of the Sacramento. Though
he travels by steam and write with lightning,
yet it hurries him faster and still faster, up
and down Wall street and Quay street, over
bales and boxes, from Lands' End to the
Horn, hither and thither, in the mad pursuit
of wealth, or fame, or novelty, or whatever
promises the great desideratum, excitement.
It leaves him no time for the soothing enjoy
mentsof home, no quiet, no repose—What
wander that some shrewd observers have
already discovered a few premature gray
hairs among his yellow locks!
l'oor Jonathau ! With all hie eccentricities
he is a noble young fellow. Although a lit
tie hasty, he hears no malice iu his heart,
and with a generosity worthy a more thought
ful head, gives liberally of his store to his
famishing neighbors. His hospitable doors
are open to the pauperism of the whole
world, and his welcome is not the less hear
ty because thousands yearly throng them.—
Extreme and indiscriminate in his charities,
as in every thing, he makes all these unfor
tunate brethren eqnal participants with him
self in his household government. And but
for tho intelligence—the conversance with
political ecotomy and the constitution of Jon
athan which they usnally evince at the polls,
tt would be manifest indiscretion in him to
allow them this privilego without some pre
vious iusiruction. Certainly, they will nev
er abuse his generosity.
There are a thousand omens of good for
this hair brained aspiring youth, and al
though he has been rather impertinent to bis
superiors, and used profane terms, and sha
ken his fists in of legislation' he
will yet grow up to be a gentleman. The ex
cess of young life will expend itself in a
few more "expeditions," or in making wes
tern clearings, and he will "settle down" in
a neat and tasteful mansion, far differen
from the windy, capacious and gaudy edi
fices he now "moves to" yearly. Ho will
yet cherish tlge arts from a love of what is
true and beautiful ir. them, as f reely as he
now does from ostentation. He will take
time to eat his dinner, and allow the rob
bing to build in his orchard, and the errors and
ignorances of his youth will be forgotten, or
remembered only in old ballads, as are
those of Robin Hood and the merry men of
ROTTEN U BROKEN BINKS. — Be on Your
Guard. —Every few days we receive accounts
of the breaking of batiks, running away of
the officers with the capital, and leaving the
"dear people," for whose "special benefit"
the institutions are chartered, to get the
notes redeemed the best way they can. The
Savannah Repuldican says:
"One-half of the banks in Louisiana are
either c'ottd or worthiest. Of three banks in
Illinois one is closed. has but one
good bank.—The banks in Florida are all
bad; and those in Arkansas are no belter. Of
twenty nine hanks ir. Georgia, thirteen are
pronounced worthless, three more with bills
too bad to be sold, and one doubtful. Seven
teen out of twenty-nine have toppled down
within a few years in one State. If batiks
were I eft—like individuals—to
their own credit, or have none, these enor
mous frauds upon the public would be less
numerous, if they did not entirely cease.
For a bonus, or some other bribe, the legisla
ture lends its cloak to a gang of swindlers to
make them appear like honest men, in or
der that they make their gains out of the
pockets of those whom circumstances com
pel to take their bills. In fact the legislature
hare no right, upon any fair principle, to
endorse the bills of a bank without being
themselves liable as endorsers.
Speaaer of the House.
Thhe following is a list of the gentlemen
who have been announced as candidates for
Speaker of the next House of Representa
. John S. Rhey, Armstrong.
John Cessna, Bedford.
J. D. Leet, Washington.
J. B. Packer, Northumberland.
J. S. Haldeman, York.
W. J. Jackson, Philadelphia.
Jos. E. Griffin, Fayette.
A. S. Feather, Berks
E. A. Penniman, Philadelphia.
Wm. Dunn, Clinton.
W They say the female atudenls atten
ding tbe Medical College in Philadelphia,
are quite expert it. outiing and oarving dead
bodiea supplied them fot dissection. Tbey
seem to like jt.
Trath and Right—Gad aid air CaMtry.
A Remarkable Death-lied Scene.
Tho following is an extract from the life
of JOHN RANDOLPH of Roanoke, by Hugh
A. Garland, which has just been published :
Next morning (the day on which he died)
Dr Parrish received an early and an earnes
invitation to viait him. Several persons were
in the room, but soon left it, except his ser
vant, John, who was much nfleeted at the
sight of his dying master. Ttie Doctor re
marked to him, "I have seen your master
very low before, and he revived ; and per
haps he will again." "John knowo better
than that, sir." He then looked at the Doc
tor with great intensity, and said in an earn
est and distinct manner, "I confirm every
disposition in my will, especially that re
specting ray slaves, whom I have manumit
ted, and for whom I have mad* provision."
"I am rejoiced loliefff euch a declaration
from you, sir," replied the Doctor, and soon
after proposed to leave him for a short time,
to attend to another patient. "You must not
go," was the replv; "you cannot, you shall
not leave, me, John / take oare that the Doc
tor does not leave the room." John soon
locked the door, and reported, .''Master, I
have locked the door and got the key in my
pocket: the Doctor can't go now."
He seemed excited, and said, "If you do
go you need not return." The Doctor ap
pealed to him as to the propriety of such an
order, inasmuch as he was only desirous of
discharging bis duly to another patient. His
manner insrantly changed, and he said, "I
retract that expression." Some time after
wards, with an expressive look, he said a
gain, "I retract that expression."
The Doctor now said he understood the
subject of his communication, and presumed
the Will would explain itself fully. Re re
plied in his peculiar way—"No, you don't
understand it; I know you don't. Our laws
are extremely particular on the subject of
slaves—a will may manumit them, but pro
visions for their subsequent support requires
that a declaration be made in the presence
of a white witness; ar.d it is requisite that
the witness, after hearing the declaration,
should remain with the party and nevoi lose
sight ot him, until he is gone or dead. Yon
are a good witness for John. You see the
propriety and importance of your remain
ing with me; your patidhts must make al
lowance for your siiuation. John told me
this morning—'master, you are dying.' "
The Doctor, with entire candor, replied,
that it was rather a matter of surprise that he
had lasted so long. He now made his prep,
arations to die.—Hr-Aheetad John to bring
him his father's breast button; he then di
rected him to place it in the bosom of his
shirt. It was an old fashioned, large sized
geld stud. John placed it in tho button
hole of the shirt bosom—but to fix it com
pletely, reqnired a hole on the opposite side.
"Gel a knife," said he, "and cut one." A
napkin was called for, and placed by John
over his breast. For a short time he lay
perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed. He
suddenly roused up and exclaimed—"Re
morse ! remorse !" It was thrice repeated,
the last time at the top of his voice, with
great agitation. He cried out—"let me see
the word. Get a Dictionary; let me see the
word." "There is none in the room sir."
"Write it down then—let me see the word."
The Doctor picked up one of his cards,
"Randolph of Roanoke"—"shall I write it
on thiseard?" "YeS,-*<-(hing more pfoper."
The word remorse, was then w rillen in pen
oil. He took the card in a hurried manner
and fastened his eyes on it with great inten
sity. "Write it on the back," he exclaimed
—it was done and handed him again. He
was extremely agitated—"Remorse! you
have no idea what it is; you can form no
idea of it, whatever; it has contributed to
bring me to my present situation—but I have
looked to the Lord Jesus Christ, and hope I
have obtained pardon. Now let John take
your pencil and draw a line under the word,'
which was accordingly done. "What am I
to do with the card?" inquired tho Doctor.
"Put it in your pocket—take care of it
when I am dead, look at it."
The Doctor now introduced the subject of
calling in some additional witnesses to his
declarations, ana suggested sending down
stairs for Edmund He replied "I
have already communicated that to him."
The Doctor then said—"With your concur
rence, sir, I will send for two young physi
cians, who shall remain and never 1080 sight
of you until you are dead; to whom you
can make your declarations—my son, Dr.
Isaac Parrish, and my young friend and late
pupil, Dr. Francis West, a brother of Capt.
He quickly asked—"Captain West of the'
Packet?" "Y'es sir, the same." "Send for
him—he's the man—l'll have him."
Before the door was unlocked, he pointed
towards a bureau, and requested the Doctor
to take from it a remuneration for his ser
vices. To this the Doctor promptly replied,
that he would feel as though he were acting
indelicately, to comply. He then waived
the subject, by saying—"in England, it is
The witnesses wera now sent lor and soon
arrived. The dying man was propped up in
the bed, with pillows, nearly erect. Being
extremely sensitive to cold, he had ja blan
ket over his head and shoulders; and he di
reeled John to place his hat on, over the
blanket, which aided in keeping it close to
his head. With a countenance full of sor
row, John stood close by the side Of his dy
ing master. The four witnesses—Edmund
Badger, Franois West Issaac Parrish and
Joseph Parrish, were placed in a semi-circle'
in full view. He rallied all the expiring en
ergies of mind and body, to this last effort.
"His whole soul," says Dr. (Parrish, "seemed
concentrated in the act. His eyes flashed
feeling and intelligence. Pointing towards
us with his long index finger, he addressed
"1 confirm all the directions in, my Will,
respecting my slaves, and direet them to be
enforced, particularly in regard to a provis
ion for their support." And then raising his
arm as high as he could, he brought it down
with his open hand on the shoulder of his
favorite John, and addressed these words—
"eepeoially tor this man." He then asked
each of the witnesses whether they under
stood him. Dr. Joseph l'arrish explained to
them what Mr. Randolph had said in regard
to the laWB of Virginia on the subject of mi
numissiqn—and then appealed to the dying
man to know whethex he had Btated it cor
rectly. "Yes," said he; and gracefully wa
ving his hand as a token ot dismission, he
added—"the young gentlemen, will remain
The scene was now soon changed. Hav
ing disposed of that subject mostdefeply im
pressed on his heart, his keen penetrating
eye lost its expression, his powerful mind
gave way, and his fading imagination began
to wander omid scenoßnnd with friends that
he had left behind. In two hours the spirit
took its flight, and all that was mortal of
John Randolph of Ronoake was hushed ir.
death At a quarter before 12 o'clock, on
the 21th day of June, 1833, aged 60 years,
he breathed his last, in a chamber of the
City Hotel, No. 41, North Third street Phila
The Ptn and the Needle.
Lew Smith, the cute and philosophical
editor of the Madison Record, tells the fol
lowing witty fable, which is good as any
thing we have seen out of Esop. A pin and
a needle, says this American Fontaine be •
•ng neighbors in a work basket, and both
being idle, began to quarrel, as most idle
folks are apt to do.
'1 should like to< know,' said the pin,
what you are geod for, and how you expect
to get through this world without a head.'
'What is the use ot your head,' replied
the neb pie sharply, 'if you have no eye.'
'What is the use of an eye,' said the pin,
'if there is always something in it?'
'I am more active and can go through
more hard work than you can,' said the nee
'Yes, but you will not live long.'
'Because you have always a stitch in your
side,' said the pin. 'You are a poor crook
ed creature,' said the needle.
'And you are so proud 'hat you can't bend
without breaking your back.'
'l'll pull your head off; if you insult me
'l'll put your eye out, if you touch me ;
remember your life hangs by a single thread,
said the pin.'
While thus conversing, a little gill enter
ed, and undertaking to sew, she very soon
broke off the needle at the eye. Then she
tied the thread around the neck of the pin,
and attempting to sew with it she soon pull
ed its head off, and threw it into the dirt by
the side of the broken needle
'We have nothing to fight about now,'
said the pin.
'lt seems misfortune has brought us to our
'A pity we had not come to them sooner,'
said the needle.
'How much we resemble human beings
who quarrel about their blessings till they
lose them, and never find out they are
brothers till they lie down in the dust togeth
er as we do.'
A GOOD Secneß-noN.—A friend has sug
gested to us the propriety of Jenny Lind sin
ging "I know that my Redeemer liveth," to
the orphans of Girard College and the in
mates of the Block ley Almshouse, enforcing
his suggestion by an incident at once stri
king and convineiug. He_is a man of fifty
years, who has, all his lite, neglected the
oflicesof religion, having never realized its
truth and power. He was persuaded to at
tend ore of Miss Lind's concerts, at which
this overpowring hymn was given, and for
the first time felt and believed in the exis
tence, of a God, above and beyond the circle
of more speculation and theory. There is
something in this case which will suggest
itself to any one who has heard the sacred
melodies of Miss Lind, more powertully
than we can express the feelings imparled
by the irresistible and winning religion of
her appearance and execution in her religi
ons pieces. It would certainly afford her
extreme pleasure to comply with the reque
st, if it be at all compatible with her exiting
ty The Maryland Reform Convention
appear to be nobly progressive in their ideas.
They have instructed their committee on
representation, to inquire into the propriety
of dividing the State into delegate andiena- 1
torial di stricts, each districts, each district to
elect hut one to the Legislature. A resolu
tion was adopted, inquiring into the expedi
ency ol prohibiting the banks to issue notes
under $5, and also one instructing a com
mittee to report in favor of abolishing im
prisonment for debt.
When yen see a person saorafice comfort
fo what he imaghiee to be gentility, yon
may be pretty certain that be is not used to it.
Brend Pudding vs. Plum Pudding.
The editor of the Evansville Journal
writes as follows on being presented with a
piece of bride's oake.
With the wedding notioe in another eol
urhn, we received from the fair hand of the
bride a piece ol elegant wedding cake to
dream on. Well, we put it under the head
of our pillow, shut our eyes sweetly as an
infant, and, blessed with an easy consci
ence, soon snored prodigiously. The god of
dreams gently touched us, and lo! in fancy
we were married ! Never was a little edi
tor so happy. It was 'my love,' 'dearest,'
'sweetest,'ringing in our cars every mo
ment. Oh! that the dream had been bro
ken off here. But no. some evil genius put
it into the head of our duaky to have pud
ding for dinner, just to please her lord. In
a hungry dream we sat down to dinner.
Well, the pudding moment arrived, and a
huge slice almost obscured from sight the
plate before tie.
My dear,' eaid we fondly, 'did you make
'Yes love—ain't it nice V
'Glorious—the best bread pudding I ever
tasted in my life.'
'Plum pudding, ducky,' suggested my
,0 no, dearest, bread pudding, I always
was fond of 'em.'
'Call that bread pudding!' exclaimed my
wife, while her pretty li ps curled slightly
'Certainly, my dear—reckon I've had to
cat enough at Sherwood House to know.
Bread padding, my love, by all means.'
'Husband, this is really too bad. Plum
pudding is twice as hard to make as bread
pudding, and is more expensive, and a greßt
doal better. I say this is plum padding, sir,'
and my protty wife's brow flushed with ex
| 'My love, my sweet, my dearly love, ex-
I claimed we soothingly, 'do not get angry;
I I'm sure it's very good, if it is bread pud
'But, sir, I say it ain't bread pudding.'
'And, madam, I say it is bread pudding.'
'You mean, low wretch,' fondly replied
my wife, in a high tone, 'you know it is plum
| 'Then, ma'am, it is so meanly put togeth
er, and so badly burned, the devil himself
wouldn't know it. I tell you, madam, most
distinctly and emphatically, and I will not
be contradicted, that is bread podding, and
the meanest kind at that.'
'lt is plum pudding!' shrieked my wife as
she hurled a glass of claret in my face, the
glass itself 'tapping the claret' from my
'Bread pudding!' gasped we, pluck to the
last, and grasping a roasted chicken by the
'Plum pudding!'rose above the din, as I
had a distinctive perception of feeling two
plates smash acrossmy head.
'Bread pudding!' we groaned in rage, as
the chicken left our hand, and flying with
swift wing across the table, landed in mad
'Plum puddiug !' reseunded the war cry
from the enemy, a 9 ll.e'gravy dish took us
where we had been depositing the first part
of out dinner, and a plate of beets landed up
on a white vest.
'Bread pudding, forever!' shouted we in
defiance, dodging the soup tureen, and fall
ing beneath its contents.
'Plum pudding!' yelled the amiable
spouse,"as, noticing our misfortune, she de
termined to keep us down by piling upon
our head the dishes with no gentle hand.
Then in rapid succession followed the war
cries. 'Plum pudding' shrieked with every
'Bread] pudding!' in smothered tones,
came up from the pile in reply. Then tt
was 'plum pudding' in rapid succession, the
last cry growing feebler, till, just as I cau dis
tinctly recollect, it had grown lo a whisper.
'Plum pudding I' resounded like thunder,
followed by a tremendous crash, as my wife
leaped upon the pile with her delicate feet,
and commenced jumping up and down
when, thank Heaven ! we awoke, and thus
saved our life
We shall never dream on wedding cake
again—that's tte moral.
Too WHlTE.—Fredr'ea Bremer, being in
vited a few days since, while in Wisconsin,
to sit near a fire, where a party of j allies
were seated, said in reply:
"No, no; you American ladies are vary
handsome, but you are too white] ' You sit
down by a fire of your own making, and
neglect the great fire that god has placed in
the heavens, which would give you health
end R better color."
IT" There wore thirty six fires in New
York last month, none of them, however, of j
any great consequence. Tbe whole loss
probably by fires in the month, Will not ex
ceed 910,000, the majority of which is in
17 American axes are reported to be far
superior to tbe British. They are sent to
Liverpool and sold in competion with the
1 E7* The Indiana Constitutional Conten
tion are Mill engaged in discussing the ques
tion of permitting negroea to hold a resi
dence and property in that State. It has cre
ated considerable excitement, and will prob
ably be referred baok to the people.
[Two Dollars pr Annum
Randolph's Dnel with Hcnrr Clay.
'The night before the duet,' my* General
James Hamilton, of South Carolina, 'Mr.
Randolph sent for me. I found him'calm,
but in a singularly kind and confiding mood'.
He told me that he had something on his
mir.d to tell me. He then remarked, 'Ham
ilton, I have determined to receive, without
returning, Clay's fire ; nothing shall induce
me to harm a hair of his head, I will not
make his wife a widow, or his children or
phans. Their tears would be shed over his
grave; but when the sod of Virginia reals
on my bosom, there is not in tins wide worid
one individual to pay this tribute upon mime.'
His eyes filled, and, resting his head upon
his hand, we remained some moments si
lent. I replied, 'My dear friend (for ovrs
Was a sort of posthumons friendship, be
queathed by our mothers,) I deeply regret
that you hove mentioned this subject to, m*
for you call upon me to go to the field and
to see you shot down, or to assume the res
ponsibility, in regard to your own life, jn
sustaining your determination to throw It'
away. But on this subject, a man's own
conscience and his own bosom are his best
monitors. I will not advise, but, under the
enormous and unprovoked insult youotfered'
Mr. Clay, I cannot dissnade. 1 feel found,
however, to communicate to Col. Ta'nall
your decision.' He begged me not to do so,
and said 'he was very much afraid that Tut
nall would take the studs and would refnse
to go out with him.' I, however, sought
Col. Tattnal, and we repaired abcajt mid
night to Mr. Randolph's lodgings, wham wa
found reading Milton's great poem. For
some moments he did not permit up to soy
one word in relation to the approaching do
el, and he at once commenced one of those
delightful criticisms on a passage of this po
et, in which tie was want so enthusiastically
to indulge. After a pause Col Tattual re
marked, 'Mr. Randolph, I am told yon have
determined not to return Mr. Clap's firs; I
mu t say to you, my dear sir, it I am only
to go out to see youlshot down, y ou mus
find some other friend.' Mr. Randolph it
marked that it was his determination. After
some conversation on the srVbyiet. I indaeed
Col. Tattnall to allow Mr. Randolph to take
his own course, as his withdrawal, as one of
his friends, might lead to very injurious mis
constructions. At last, Mr. Randolph, srai
ling, said,' Well, Tattnall, I promise you
one thing: if I see the devil in Clay's eye,
and that with malice prepense ho means to
take my life, I may change my mind.' A
remark I knew he made merely to propitiato
the anxieties of his friend.
'Mr. Clay and himself met at foer o'clock
the succeeding evening, on the banks of the
Potomac. Rat he saw'no devil in Clay's
eye, but a man fearless, and expressing the
mingled sensibility and firmness whjcb be
longed to the occasion.
"I shalPnever forget this scene a* long as
I live. It has been my misfortune to wit
ness several duels, but I never saw ons, at
least in its sequel, so deeply uffecting. The
sun was just sotting behind the blue hills of
Randolph's own Virginia. Here were two
) of the most extraordinary men our country
j in its prodigality had produced, about to
, meet in mortal combat. While Tattnall
was loading Randolph's pistol, I approached
Imy friend, I believed, for the last time. I
took his hand ; there was not in its touch
the quivering of one pulsation, lie turned
to me and said, 'Clay is calm, but not vindi
cative—l hold my purpose, Hamilton, in
any event; remember this.' * On handing
him his pistol, Colonel Tattnall sprang the
hair-trigger. Mr. Randolph,said, 'Tattnall,
although lam one of the best stmts in Vir -
ginia with either a pistol, or gun, yet 1 nev
er fire with a hair trigger; besides. 1 have a
thick buckskin glove on, which will destroy
tho delicacy of my touch, and the trigger
may fly before I know where I am.' But
from his great sclioitude for Ms friend, Tatt
nall insisted upon hairing the pistol. On ta
king their position, the fact turned out as
Mr. Randolph anticipated; his pistol went
off before the word, with the muzxle down
' The moment this event took place, Sen.
Jesup, Mr. Clay's friend, oalled out that he
would instantly leave the ground with Ms
friend, if that occurred again. Mr. Clay at
once exclaimed It was an accident, and bog
ged that the gentleman might be allowed to
go on. O.i word being given, Mr. Clay fit.
Ed without effect, Mr, Randolph discharg
ing his pistol in the air. The moment that
Mr. Clay saw that Mr. Randolph had thrown
away his fire, with a gush of sensibility, he
instantly approached Mr. Randolph, and
said, with an emotion I can never fotgpt—
"l trust in God, my dear sir, you are untou
ched ; after what has occurred, I would not
have harmed you for a thousand worlds. 1 —
Life of John Randolph.
A Polite Ulan. _
"My uncle, deceased, was lha most pa
lite man in the world. He was making a
voyage on the Danube—the boat sank, and
all the passengers went to the bsttom. My
uncle was on the point of drowning: he got
his head above the water for onoe, took off
hie hat, and said : 'Ladies and gentlemen,
you will please to excuse me II and dawn
. • - *
W In England nearly evesy manufactory
of any consequence prepares the gas which
it uses in lighting the factery—the ma
chinery requisite not being very coetly for
preparing gas to a eor-sidcrable extent. ,
tff' vj i ttn id tffV