M it. :JlV- tea lis m - m P 1.1 sifTffl'i flTl ft ; fir re re. re re t,i re . .1 v X BY S. B. ROW. VOL. &-?0. 33. CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1, 1857. If $1 u a ,ru unm urn erw- rm BY BEQOtBT. iur rmira souo or the last ekdman. The following poem a written by Rev. Wm. Hamilton, of the Otoe and Omaha Mis won. It la based upon the supposition that the aborigines of this country are t:.e rem nants of the lost ten tribes of Israel. Mr. Hamilton having been employed in the Indian mission service in Nebraska during the last fifteen years is as intimately acquainted with the interesting snbfict presented, as he is w ith the harmonious numbers in w hich it is exhibi ted to the reader. I heard, or seemed to Lear, a plaintive strain, As once I sat retired in some lone spot And list'.jng,thought I heard a voice complain, But much of what it said is now forgot, It seemed to be one mourning; hard his lot, And from all lov'd on earth was fur away Oppressed at heart.w ith feeble steps lie sought Ton shady rock, beside it Kneeled to pray, Then rising, mid his grief, I thought, I heard him say : All desolate I stand ! no friend ! no home ! No place of rest, no shelter for my hend, Last ol the Redmen, o'er the earth I roam, Through forests streams by some strange fancy led ; The clear blue heavens my tent, the earth my bed. Esch day I search one like myself to find. But cannot, for my kindred all are de;-d, Ai:i I, an o-phan lone, am left behind, Ciicerlcss, and shelterless, the sport of cv 're wind. "Jfr eyes, with longing, seek to rest on one Whose heart and blood are kindred to my But those, triumphant lorg,thcir race have run. And in their turn but reaped what they had sown ; Long,ere tbePalcfacc was to manhood grown, They were the monarch of theWestern world, But now, tliey steep iu silence I alone Still linger. Down to death the rest were hurled, While o'er their graves float Freedom's fairest flag unfurled. "A hundred winters rest upon my head, .Now white us winter's snow 0.1 Mono's brow, A hundred summers from my si;;hi have fled. And left it dim, and I am ready now, The lust, and strongest of my mcs to bow ily head in pensive sadness to my fate Tr no one comforts roe. or tells me how, Or where to find some fond congenial mate ; All seem the poor forsaken Indian still to DATE. "Our fathers saw the Paleface when he fled, A lonely exile, o'er the vast blue deep ; He looked like one returning from the dead Like one awakened from his lung cold sleep; Theypiticd him. they told hini not to weep ; Their arrows caught for him the fleeting fleer. Unknown, they nourished him, who now doth sweep The dark browed Indian from his home so dear, Till o'er his grave there's none to drop affec tion's tear. Once as the stars in number, now we're few ; Disease hath wasted us, diseases brought By those whom fondly to our hearts we drew, And through our kiudnes their diseases caught ; Now ad and lonely is the Redman's lot, The pitied stranger pities not in turn, Too dearly have we sad experience bought, Since in thur bosoms fiercer passions hum. Which make them from their hearts their fellow-creatures spurn. "Their hands are many, and where'r they please, They lay those hands on stream and land scape wide ; Call them their own of ri;;ht, by firm decree, Giv'n to themselves the saints and tears deride, Shed by the lonely orphan by his sidy ;" But Time's kind hand will wipe those tears away Ere long the last poor Indi-iii will hurt died ; Some whisp'nr.g .-i r! t ,st-.-ni s,ni thin Us, to say, Why dost thou, lonely one, to come to us delay.' "Thus has it ever been. By Gozan's slicam. We hung our burps that gave harmonious sound, Nor since th.it fatal day .could the sweet theme, We sung so oft on Zion's Hill, be found. Those songs have ceased, bongs OI1C9 so much renowned, When Israel's Chieftain led in holier strain, And list'iiing multitudes were gathered round The victim, which, by Heaven's appointment Main, Foreshadowed One to come, who would not die in vain. "Our eyes were din) with watching, but we saw No Prince, like him who led our tribes of old Who save from Sinai's Mount, that holy law, '.Vbicii Ml our present miseries foretold ; One, who tike him the f uture could unfold, Whose voice we were to hear.whose word obey. So long we waited for him, but behold n5 comes not to redeem us, still wo pray, Though far from Zion's Mount, wo pas3 our time away. But it was just in Hun to cast ns off, Whose temple on Mount Zion we forsook, Whose holy ord'nances we made a co!f, And turned from what was written in His Book. Now on that sacred Roll we may not look ; 'Tis lost, and lor bn years we could not find : It sctiis some judgment dire hath nature shook, VThile visions strange oft pass before the mind, Hope gleams, expires, and O, what a sad wreck behind ! "Out prophets all have died ; our Jseers gone God seems in anger to heve shut his ear Jlnd still that day,they spoke of.does not dawn, That One comes not, whoso voice wo were to hear. O'er artn our tribes were scattered far and near ; Forgotten too that Rest we once enjoyed. NewMoousand Sabbaths.to tho soul sodear; O, from the Truth, how have we been decoyed, Until Time's wasting hand hath all our tribes destroyed. "No ; there was one that did not Gi l forsake, That linger'd still when we were led away ; That tribe did not f Bethel's sin partake, They to Jehovah did not cease to pray, And lie protested them, he wa their stay. The rent were driven far on exiled land, Unpitied, unprotected. Sad that day, When for our sins, we from the Promised land, Were carried by the fierce Assyrian hand. "But whether now on Zion's Mount they dwell, Or quench their thirst atKhirons gentle brook, Or draw their water yet from Jacob's well, Or ir they stiil preserve God's Holy Book. Or Ho doth on them with compassion look, I long to know. Perhaps their Shiloh's come, And reigns their King while we who first forsook His temple,have been doomed on earth to roam. Without a guide or friend far from our much loved home. "O, sad and bleeding is my stricken heart, For earth encloses what on earth was dear, All that is left, are dregs of keenest smart, Dark ! desolate behind ! before all fear. Long since is dried the fountain, whence tho tear Would fall, at times upon my sunbir.nt cheek, The voice of love 1 never more shall hear, Since I am last on earth, and old, and weak, My heart so troubled that I can no longer speak.' Thus the lone Indian sang, then set him down In silent anguish, for he could no more The thought endure, t hat he too should go down As all his tribes, so peeled, bad done before, Uncared for by thePaleface triumphed o'er, By these he sheltered when the storm was wild, His limbs waxed feeble, and his aspect wore No longer that sweet smile, as when a child Sporting on Tanai's banks, he all his cares be guiled. Hark ! Heard'st thou that deep sigh T now still he lies ; Tit !if:irt so full of life tiaj nnnuml tn In. if ! Humbled before his conqueror he dies An-1 yield his form submissive at his feet No kindred spirit could he ever meet, Since in the narrow cell his race was laid ; Nor did a friendly smile this lone one greet, His love toothers shown, was ill-repaid, He died alone, lieart-broken, by false friends betrayed. I woke, it was a dream ; there yet is hopo I cried, O! Christian, haste to rescue those Who linger still by stream on mountain top. Nor think them now, as erst.yonr deadly foes, Lone, desolate and sad the Redman goes. From place to place, pursued by t lie same hand That should have rescued him from all his woes, And led him to a fairer, better land. Haste then to help, for now on ruins brink thev stand. DOMESTIC RECIPES. Gateal- de Pomees. Put throe-quarters of a pound of loaf sugar in a stew pan, with a pint of water, and when dissolved and ready to candy, take two pounds of apples pared and i cored, the peel of a lemon, cliappdl very fine, j and a part of the juice. Boil it until quite I still, and put in a mould j when turned out lor 1 use. stick it with blanched almond, uud iut a rich custard in the dish. Apple Float. The white of two eggs well beaten ; add to it, four spoonfuls of sugar, and six apples stewed, and drained until quite dry. These ingredients must be beaten along time ; ad l also a lemon to it. Then make either a soft or hard custard, and put at the bottom of the dish, and lay the mixture on tho top. Or nament with sugar mites. Crackers roil Tiin Sick. One pound of flour ; one egg vol beaten ; one tablespoon of yeast : one tablespoon of cream ; a little suit ; mix well together with milk to a stiff paste, and beat them twenty minutes with a rolling pin, to be rolled in small pieces round, sepe rately, rcry thin. Ciiarlks PtDMNO, (fine!) One cup of su gar ; one cup of sweet milk ; one egg ; one tablespoon of melted butter ; half a teaspoon of soda dissoved in the milk ; teaspoon of cream of tarter sifted through tho flour. Bake in a loaf, and cat with wine sauce. Arn.K Prt'DiNO, (delicious!) Ono pound of apples stewed and strained; one pound of sugar; six eggs ; one iint of cream ; six oun ces of butter ; glass of wino, and a little nut meg. Paste on the bottom of the dish aud bake like a pie. Fine Mcfjixs. One quart of milk, three eggs, t .-aspoon of salt : four tablespoons of yeast ; Hour to make it itill' enough lor a bat ter; butler the size of an egg. The milk must be blood warm. Conines. Ten ounces of sugar, one quarter pound of butter, one egg, largo teaspoon of salaratus, dissolved in two-thirds of a cup of milk. They should bo rolled very soft. The Richest Community in the Won lb. Lo ! The poor Indian ! A day or two since we had occasion to mention that the result of the late sale of the Delaware (Indian) trust lands was $170,000. The lands sold were on ly those comprised in the . eastern division of this great reservation. The western divis ion is now advertised to he sold. That con tains some SjO.COD acres, and will undoubted ly bring an aggregate of at least $600,000. The tribe arc also tho owners of a home rcser vation almost immediately adjoining Leaven worth City, forty miles long by ten broad. That would sell to-morrow readily for $10 per aero, or an aggregate of $3,000,000. Thus their total wealth, independent of personal property and some of them are men of con siderable means is about $4,070,000. They number in all some nine hundred souls; and, from the real estate described above, aro worth and average of $4,410 per soul, or $22,220 to e sell family of five persons among them. C"IIoracc Grcely has lost his only son a promising lad. Mr. G. reached home, from his western tonr, 2 hoori sfter his son'sdeath. From the West Chester Republican. Tni; SILVER SPRINGS OF FLORIDA. When the earliest Spanish adventurers land ed on the islands of the West Indies, and re duced to their sway the inhabitants of the main laud of Central America, they found a strange and remarkable myth among the Aborigines, from the coast of Honduras to the farthest is land to the cast ; a myth whose parallel mod ern research has found only In the rich myth ology of the Hindoo Vedas, and among the J Magi of Persia. It spoke of a fountain, called in the poetic phraseology of tho natives, l)i mini, or "The Fountain of Life," whose wa ters possessed the virtue of healing the sick, rejuvenating the aged, and conferring immor tality It located this magic fouutain in a pleasant and genial land to tho northward, where Florida now lies. Tho origin of this myth is involved in doubt, but certain it is from the combined testimony of all the Span ish historians, that the belief was very preva lent, that it originated several migrations of the Aborigines to the northward, whose settle ments were discovered in the southern coast of Florida, and that it induced the adventu rers. Prince de Leon, in 1512, and Fernando de Soto in 1539, to undertake their ill-fated expeditions. In default of a better theorv, it seems not inconsistent with the Indian char acter to impute this belief to the veneration of some actual spring, remarkable for some unusual property, and exaggerated first by the art of the priests for selfish purposes, and next, by tho stereoscopic power of time and dis tance. The Silver Springs of Florida, no less from their own beauty and strangeness, than Irom the indisputable signs of a denso Aboriginal population in their vicinity, such as Indian mounds, pottery, arrowheads, Kc, I regard well worthy the dignity of having originated this widely expanded tradition. This will be come more evident on an examination of their beauties in detail. To appreciate them best, we should approach from the Ocklawaha. Turning almost at right angles from the dense cypress swamps that everywhere skirt this muddy and obstructed river, into a edear and rapid stream, wo emerge into broad prairie, clothed in summer with thousands of brilliant and oderiferous flowers. But the greatest beauty is beneath us. Standing on the prow of the barge, I watched with delight the chan ges in the subaqueous scenery. Now the bot tom is clothed in long, dark green, reedy grass, waving slowly hi the current, hero a sunken log is drapcried in mossy vegetation, ns thick and as green as ivy, while there, s bottom of greyish sand throws in bright relief concentrated arecs of brilliantly white frag ments of shells deposited upon the lower side of the ripple marks in tho numerous circular basins. Far below us, the sluggish catfi.ih bal ances itself near the bottom, or the swift trout hastens away, or the sullen alligator stares with stupid amazement at tho noise of tho poles. Th-s "run," as it is called, which furnishes this living panorama, extends for ten miles, ranging in width from sixty to one hundred and twenty-five lect, and in depth from fifteen to fifty. At first sight, the head or basin, from whence it rises, disappoints. It is in shape an irregular ellipse, its longest diameter, ranging N. E., S. W ., about 100 yards, its shortest a bout M0. The east side is bordered by an open cypress swamp, while on the west lies a dense ham mock, of cypres?, maple, palmetto, ash, gum and other trees. It is very unlortunato that the scenery above is so tame compared with that below. The water has its principal exit at the north-eastern extremity. Here a sub aqueous bluff, forty feet high, presents three cragged ledges of limestone. Between the lowest ono of these and the bottom is a cave, the opening of which, as measured by the'eye, seems about 5 feet by 15. From this gap gushes the water, w ith force enough to deflect a common plumb bob several feet from a verti cal line. On a favorable day, when the air is still and tho sun is bright, so great is tho de lusion arising from the clarity of the water, that ono standing on the bank would hardly belicvo but that tho whole ledge of rocks stands out of the water. 1 took with great care tho temperature of the spring, and from several observations at various hours of the day, ascertained it to bo 73 deg., 2 Fah. This comparatively high heat should not surpriso us, as it is but little above the moan annual temperature of tho locality. Tho next point was to detcrmino as near as possible the amount of water given forth. The data obtained on the spot I have since worked tip according to the formulas of Buat, and after making all possible deductions for er rors unavoidably arising in such a calculation, tho result is that it ejects 8-0 cubic feet per second, at least 400,000,000 gallons per day. It is impossible for tho human mind to grasp such an anay of figures, but with a different unit it will be comprehensible. It is calcul ted that ancient Rome, in her most flourish ing period consumed 190,000,000 gal. water per diem, that London now uses about 40,000, 000, and New York, SO.000,000, in the same lime, so that this ono spring would supply all these and yet have a stream as large as tho Croton acqueduct besides, or would furnish 10 Londons, or 13 New Yorks, at once. Where now does this vast mass come from 7 The question is not so difficult as it may ap pear. To answer it we must examine the geol ogy of the country. The rocks from whence it springs aro a rot ten limestone, locally called sandrock, which belongs to what is called tho local formation. This Is honey-combed by innumerable caves and avenues, many of them filled with water, and in fact there are strong reasons lor believ ing that th-j w hole of middle Florida is a pla teau supported by enormous arches and pill ars above a vast subterranean lake. Some times this cru t breaks, and a tract of forest will sink and bo replaced by a lake, into which numerous rills will run, be received, but never visibly emerge. Such is Orange Lake, in Al achua county, Alligator Lake to the north, and numerous ponds throughout all portions. Sil ver Springs may be very naturally supposed to beau outlet of this lake, and though there are some objections to this theory, it is proba ble they will disappear on more accurate inves tigation. Such aro the Silver Springs, an object will worthy of a visit from the curious, aud deser ving of a more thorough investigation in a sci entific point of view than I was able to give it. It is unfortunate that the means of access to it arc so restricted, the nearest stage line run ning 7 miles distant, and the journey up the Ocklawaha anything but pleasant to him who regards casti in travelling. I). Ladies Don't Read This! A "Disbanded Volintair," stopping a few days at "Sent Nich olas Hotel," New York, writes to the editor of the Sunday Times concerning the present fashions of the "wimmen," as follows : When I foot it throo Broadway, or take a "buss up that interesting buliward I alius thank Providence that, when I writ to you from Cal ifornia, tor a helpmeet, you dident fulfill the order. Ide sooner marry a dry goods winder, a jewelry store, and coopering establishment, than one of them mixtures of figured satin, dimiud rings, and .halebone, you call a fash ionable bell. Somewhars in every circumfer ence of silk, velvet and cetery, that riggles a long Broadway, t liars alius a wumen, I spose, but how much of the holler is filled with meat, and how much is gimmon, the meer spectatur ken never no. A poor feller marries at site, and finds, when it comes to the pint, that he has nuthen in his arms but a regular anatomy. Ef men is "gay decevers," wot's to be said of a female that dresses for a hundred and forty weight, but hain't really as much fat on her as wouldgreasc a griddle all the apparent plump ness is only cotton and whalebone. line told that hoops is beginning to be made with jints so that at theatures and concerts, a fashionable lady can bhet np her skerts like a parrcsol, and give tho crowd a chance. This will be a partikler blessin to the mail race, speshly in stages. Ef all the world was actilly a stage, as has been fablusly oss rted, it wouldn't more'u accomniydato all the fashion able wimmen in thur present habillyments. The ruder sect would hcv to take a deck pas sage on the ruf of the vehikel. C7"Qnecn Victoria's loyal subjects in New foundland are in a commotion, in consequence of the Home Government proposing to trans fer the fishery privileges of that province to France. The Legislature and tho press are indignant at this flagrant attempt to deprive tho colony of its most "natural and sacred rights," and which act, they allege, would "sever the tie which has hitherto bound the colony to tho parent State." This "tic" ap pears to have been a fishing line. It will soon be a sub-marine wire cable, which will not be so casilv broken. The Turkish soldier marches to meet tho foe w ith the same nonchalance ns ho smokes his pipe. Ho is taught from his birth that the moment of his death is fixed, and that a whole charge of artillery aimed at his heart would mis him, if destiny had decreed his time not come. Ho is taught also that he will go straightway to Paradise the moment of his death. With both these ideas, ho is so fully impressed, that no danger moves him, and he lies on his death-bed as calmly as on a bed for sleep. CirTat was hungry, and got out of the cars for his refreshment. Tho cars very thought lessly went on without him. Pat's ire was up. "Ye spalpeen !" he cried, starting on a run, and shaking his fist as he flew after the train. "Stop there, ye old stanic wagin ; ye murther in stame ingine ye'vo got a pastengrr aboard that' left behind !" The "stame-ingine" was relentless and the passenger "aboard" that was "left behind," had to stay behind. I.i the melancholy Bartholomew massacre, in France, for three days every Protestant who could be found was put to death. By order of the king, Admiral do Coligny was murdered in his own house, but Merlin, his chaplain, concealed himself in a hay-loft. It is recor ded in the acts of the next synod, of which he was moderator, that though many in similar circumstances died of hunger, he was suppor ted by a hen regularly laying an egg near his place of reluge. Life is a romance which most young ladies would lika to begin by reading the third toI umo first as it is the ono that gonerally con tains th marrisff. SERVING A SUBPOENA On LOVE VS. LAW. It is singular what shifts love will make lo accomplish its objects. Bolts, gates and bars aro of little avail against Cupid's picklock con trivances his cunning w ill devise ways and means to open them all. A young gentleman has courted a fair lady of this city, and it was supposed the two in time would 'become one.' Some little qnarrel of a trivial nature, as lovers' quarrels generally are, occuired. Neither would confess the wrong to be on their side presents and correspondence were mutually sent back, and the match was broken off. The young gentleman immediately started off for New Orleans, to enter into commercial busin ess, thinking that distance would lessen the at tachment he really felt for the young lady. When a woman is injured, or thinks she is injured, by the one she loves, she is more apt than the male sex "to bite off her own nose," as the saying is, to inflict pain and be reven-J god on the offending object. A gentleman that the young lady once rejected renewed his proposals and was accepted within a week af ter her old lover had embarked for the south. On reaching New Orleans he found that dis tance, instead of weakening his attachment, only made the lady dearer, and he became melancholy and low spirited. The first letter he received from New York, from a friend of bis, announced that this old flame was shortly to be married to another. His course was quickly determined ; the next morning saw him on board a packet ship bound to Gotham. The passage unfortunately was long, and tho poor fellow chafed and fretted so much that the passengers began to think him deran ged or elee a fugitive escaped from justice. The instant the vessel touched the w harf lie darted for the ofiice of his friend the lawyer. It is to be supposed the latter was much sur prised to see liis friend, imagining him a coup le of thousand miles away. After tho usual salutations he exclaimed . "My dear fellow you are just in time to sec the wedding. Miss , your old sweat heart is to be married this morning at 11 o'clock. To tell you the truth I don't belicvo there is much love about it, and that the girl really thiuks more ol ono hair of your bead than the fortunate bridegroom's whole body." Good Heaven ! where is she to be married in Church No; at her father's house." "My dear fellow I I no yes. I have it. Have you any case coming on in either of the courts at eleven o'clock ?" "Yes." "Then fill up a subsocna with the bride groom's name. Don't etop to ask any ques tions. It matters not whether he know s any thing about tho parties in tho suit. By heav ens, Julia shall bo mine!" His friend saw the object at once and prom ised to carry on the matter. The subpoena was made out and placed in tho hands of a clerk to serve on the unsuspecting bridegroom the instant he was seen to leave his residence. About fen minutes before eleven, us the soon to bo happy man was about entering a coach before the door of his residence, he was served with the subpoena. "Can't help it," said tho clerk, on his ges ticulating about 'not knowing the parties,' 'go ing to be married,' &c. "We shan't reach tho hall now before eleven o'clock the cas is the first on the calender, heavy fine, impris onment for contempt," ice. The bridegroom, who was of a rather timid nature, finally consented, particularly as the clerk promised to send a friend of his w ho sat in the cab, wrapped up in a cloak, to the house of his bride in expectation, explaining the rea son of his absence. Tho reader can imagine who this person was. Eleven o'clock came, but still nobridegroom. The guests were staring at each other the priest began to grow impatient and the bride that was to be, looked pale and agitated, when a carriage drove up, the bell rang, and "there he is ! there he is!" murmured many voices. A gentleman did enter, whoso appearance cre ated almost as much astonishment as that of Edgar Ravenswood in the Hall of Ashton Cas tle, at the marriage of Lucy Ashton, in Scott's "Bride of Lammermoor." The lady fainted private explanations ensued between her pa rent and tho lover and the result was that in ten minutes after tho two real lovers wero joined in the sacred bond of matrimony, much to the satisfaction of all. The bridegroom that was to have been, af terwards made his appearance, puffing and blowing. What he said, and what he did, on beholding his rival and being made acquainted with the condition of affairs, was really tragi comical. The story of tho subpana shortly after leak ed out, and has created so much amusement that the poor fellow declares ho will sue the lawyer for $10,000 damages in subpoenaing him as a witness in a casa of which ho knew nothing, ami by which he lost a wife. It will bo a novel suit indeed if he should do so. Xew York p'pcr. C7"Tho Japanese aio said lo be tbe only people who w ill not tolerate the hooped skirts. These isolated people have tolerated no change iu dress for; two thousand five hundred years, although with increased intercourse with "out side barbarians," they will donbtWs ad"nt Jl'LES GERARD TDE LIOS-KlLtER ff AMSEEIA. M. Gerard was originally a private fn one of the dragoon regiments of tho French army In Algiers. He spent ten years In Africa, and, as he tells ns, watched six hundred nights for the lion. He had such signal success tn lion hunting that he was continually sent for by Arab tribes to deliver them from the destroyer of their cattle, aud he seems to have been grad ually drawn into the sole business of killing lions ; a business, however, for which he never would accept any remuneration whatever. H was a genuine hunter, and a natural death shot. Of his first encounter with the lion Mr. Ge rard remarks : "The heavy roar of the- lion sounded in the ravine below. I was so wilJ with delight that I sprang Into tho woods to run straight to tlu lion, followed by my two comrades. When the sound ceased I paused to wait. Bou-Azlz and Ben-Oumhark were close on my heels, pale as two spirits, and ges ticulating to each other that I had gone mad. In a few- moments more the lion roared again, about a hundred paces distant, when I rushed foi ward in the direction of the sound, with the inipetuosi'y of a wild boar, instead of tho pru dence of a hunter. "In a moment more I heard heavy steps on the leaves that carpeted the wood?, nndtli9 rubbing of a large body against the trees that bounded the clearing. I knew it was the lion that had risen from his lair, and was coming right to where we stood. "The lion slowly approached, and I could measure with my senses the distance that sep arated us. Now I heard his steps now his rustling against the trees and now his heavy and regular breathing. I stepped one or two paces farther forward, toward the edge of tho opening, where he was to come out, to have as clcsc a shot as possible. I could still hear his steps at thirty paces distant, then at twenty, then at fifteen, and yet I was all the while a fraid lest h" might turn back, or in some man ner avoid me, or that my gun might miss fire. What if he shculd turn aside ? What if h should not come out of the woods 1 With ev ery new sound my heart bent in heavy throbs with the intoxication of hope. Now nil th life in my body rushed t'-irough my veins; then again my very life was stilled by the emotion. "The lion after a momentary pause, that ap peared to me an age, started .again, and Icocid see the slende tops of a tree, whose base h brushed, trembling as he passed almost within sight. Now no more barrier between me and him but the thick foliage of a single tree. But still the animal did not show hinisrif, and I began to fear lest he should have the instinct of my presence, and, instead of walking slowly out, would clear the mastic tree with a sin felt bound. "As if to justify my fears, he commenced growling, at first with two or three guttural sighs, and then increasing to tho full force of his voice. There in the sc'eiun- fjiest Ol a thicket from whence are coming roa:s that would drown the roll of the thunder, I thought of my single bail to hurl against a Joe thpt has tho strength of a hundred men iu his 6ingl nrm, and that kills without mercy when he is not killed himself. "When I heard tho lion making his last steps, I moved a little to one side. His enor mous head came out from the Iene foliage, as he stepped with a commanding grace izio the light of the open glade, and then he halt ed, half exposed, half concealed, while liis great eyes dilated on mo with a look of aston ishment. 1 took, my aim between the eyo and ear, end pressed the trigger. From that In stant, until tho report of the piece, my heart absolutely ceas-.-d to beat. With the explosion of the gun, the smoke shut out everything from my view, but a long roar of agony at aim ed my ear, and frightened tho forest. "My two Arabs sprung to their feet, but without moving from their places, I vr ited with one knee ou tho ground, and my poinard in my hand, until the smoke that obscured th view should dissipate. Then I saw, gradually, first a paw and, heavens 1 what a paw for living beast then a shoulder, then the dishev eled mane, and at last the whole liu:; stretched out on his side w ithout sign of life. 'Beware! don't go near him!' shouted Bou-Aziz, as he threw a largo stone at the body ; it fell on its head and bounced 'Q t the lien teas dead ! That was the evening of the eighth of July, ISM. "Without giving me time to approach my prize, the Arabs sprang upon nit like two mad men, and I was nearly thrown dow n and crush ed by their transports of joy and gratitude. Atter me, it camo the lion's turn f and they overwhelmed him with recriminations and blow. and then from time to time fired their guns in tho air, to spread the glad tidings to the distant douars. After they had leaped, and gamboled, and hurrahed over the auimal, I was permitted to draw near him, and cx-ai-ine him at my case, to look at the size of his teeth, to measure the strength of his limbs, and place n y hand on his tawny mane. I had no difficulty in recognizing hi-a by the Arab description of the rtntrabU." Appbopriatu Mistake. A dancirj mast?? in solicitatious for patronage, wished to ex press li s obligations for past favors, when tho printer wide him air "Mot. rTspfiiijKj V fM his ibaui." '