' VOL. 4 INTO. 28.
BY S. B. ROW
CLEARFIELD, PA WEDNESDAY, MARCH 3, 1858.
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; - WHISPER A BLESSING FOR ME.
The shadows of twilight are creeping, ' ;
Soft overlie brightness of day, . . v
The flowers of the wild wood are weeping,-
Farewell to the sun's parting ray r. :
; My spirit is wandering to thee, love, .
In visions all gloriously bright !
;Then whisper blessing for me, lore, !
o A blessing, a kiss and good night ? ' "
'Id heaven now the puro stars are smiling,
--' Like angel eyes watching me here, .
'And music that lone heart beguiling, '
v Steels gently and low on my ear !
.. ily spirit is smiling on thee. love. -.
And murmuring a song of delight!;
Then whisper a blessing for me love,
A blessing, a kiss ard good-night. .
Young voices in earnest tones blending, .'.
t -. Rise clear through tho still opening air,
And angels their pinions are bending, .
To catch the low breathing of prayer!
My spirit 19 praying for thee Tore.
lleareo clothes all thy pathway in light !
.Then whisker a blessing for me, love,
" , A blessing, a kiss and good night.
i'- ' Written for the "Raftsman's Journal."
' ARASKER'S VE.GEA.CE.
One of the most terrible aspects of the "war
of independence" was presented in the mur
derous forays of the savages on tho American
frontier settlements. These barbarous inroads
were- either directly or indirectly the work of
the British or their Tory allies and in many
of-their murdering ami marauding expeditions
they were led, .and even outdone in barbarity,
by British or Tory officers. The frontier set
tlements were chiefly composed of a Lardy and
daring class of but half-civilized men, who,
lacking the education and refinements of more
civilized life, fell in very naturally with the
bar batons manners and practices of the sava
ges. Especially was this true in regard to
their mode of warfare, which tho Whites imi
tated so closely as to provoke the Indians to i
till greater "cruelty, which in its turn caused
the Whiteruen to endeavor to exceed them in
their hellish barbarities. Thus did this sj-s-tem,
practiced by both parties, mutually react
'upon each other. True, there were men of
Intelligence and refinement in these settle
iiisnts, but their number was so small, com
pared with the mass of the settlers, that their
luQuence was scarcely felt. In looking over
the scenes of bloodshed and cruelty of those
times one scarcely knows which to blame most,
the Indians who had been trained to these a
trocities from the first dawning of their intel
lect, till it has become a part of their nature,
m well as of their religion, or the White nien
who, however ignorant, have had the advan
tage of better training in etf-ly life, and who
have acquired the habit from imitation, and
from cherishing the passion of revenge. Cer
tainly we can excuse neither, but there arc cir
cumstances which, In & measure, appear to
mitigate the terrible aspects of a vengeance
such as I am about to relate.
In childhood the writer became acquainted
with a "relic of the Kevolutionary war," in
the widow of Captain Edstone, of the "Juniata
Rangers," and who furnished me with the de
tails of the life of one tf the rangers, a few
iscidentsof which I intend to give.
The vallies along tho eastern slopo of the
Alleghanies, and in which the Juniata Iliver
takes its rise, were at the time of the Revo
lution inhabited by a number of petty tribes
cT Indians, who, though frequently at war
with each other, wero easily induced to unite
in a general war with the Whites. According
ly it became necessary early ia the war for the
frontier settlers to form themselves into a sort
of local Militia, part of which acted as Rangers
or Scouts, while the remainder attended to
their farms. Among the companies thus
formed for self defence was the one above
named. The Capt. was one of tho Pioneer
eettlers in his part of the valley, and was a
young man of much boldness and daring, but
who scrupled not at artifice or even treachery
to gain his point, or to accomplish his purpose
Among his followers was one SolomonDucrow,
usually called by his comrades "Sol Crow,"
which latter we shall use in speaking of bim
Ho was a young man of a herculean frame,
and corresponding strength, and of agility
equal to that of the Indian, as many a success
ful race for Ins life proved. lie possessed a
home in one of the loveliest vallies that open
on the Juniata, where his wife and four small
children. lived while ho was acting as a pro
t?ctor to the settlement. In times of great
peril the women and children were all placed
in a slight stockade fort, and left under care
of tho old men, and the boys who were too
young to bear the fatigues of a wilderness
campaign, while the men followed the Indians
through the forests, and generally succeeded
In driving them into the Alleghanies. In one
f these campaigns, and ' when near the head
waters of the Juniata Capt. Edstone divided
his command, and sent a Lieut, and ten men
among whom was "Sol. Crow," on a trail of
some twenty Indians. They followed the trail
till dark, and then encamped in a hollow, and
kindled a fire, contrary to tho advice of Sol
ho left the camp and went upon the hill side
to watch in order to avoid a surorise. But the
B .
party was discovered by tho savages, and qui
etly surrounded. What was the surprise of
these reckless men, when at daybreak they
were aroused by the war-whoop, and upon
springing to their feet they received a volley
from both sides, which laid one half their num
ber dead on the spot. The rest threw down
their anna and called for quarter, whereupon
a dozen half-naked Indiana sprang from the
tbfeket, and mixing tire vrctebed beings, de
spatched them wifh their tomahawks.' Sol,
who had witnessed this cold-blooded massa.
ere from his place-of concealment, forgot in
the excitement of the moment, and in his de
sire to avenge his comrades, his own personal
safety, and levelling' his rifle on him who ap
peared to be the chief of the party, he fired.
The bullet found Its way to the; heart of the
savage,' and he fell dead. The Indians uttered
a yell at si'ng their chief fall, and it was a
few seconds ere they recovered from their sur
prise sufficiently to fire at Sol,who was now run
ning at full speed, and nearly at a point where
the swell of the ground would hide him from
their view. The savages fired a volley without
effect, when a number' of them gave chase.
Sol slacked his speed so as to enable him to
load his rifle, and by this means' three of the
swiftest of the Iudians had gained on him till
they were within eightyyards. lie according
ly cocked his gun, and wheeling suddenly fired
at the foremost of his pursuers. Tho ball
passed through therst Indian, kil.ing him
instantly, and mortally wounding auother.
The third, and only one now in sight, halted a
moment, then brandishing his tomahawk gave
aloud shout and rushed forward. Sol now
finding that his rifle encumbered him threw it
away, and was just trying to determine wheth
er be should stop and kill the Jndian in a close
fight, or rnn away from him, either of which
he felt that he could do, when he was surprised
by the war-whoop of another party of savages,
into whose midst he had found his way. See
ing that resistance would bo useless, he sur
rendered to his enemies, and was securely tied
and taken to their village, where he was con
demned to the torture, and would have been
burned at once but that a number of the tribe
were absent, and it was agreed to postpone the
execution till their return. lie was according
ly closely guarded night and day for three
weeks, when the warriors all got home, and
without bringing any more prisoners. They
had lost several of their braves in a skirmish
with Cant. Edstone's company, and conse
quently felt eager to wreak their vengeance on
the head of Sol. Accordingly extensive pre
parations were made for the execution on tho
motrow.
Sol, who had suffered a good deal during the
first week of his confinement, prevailed on the
old man and his daughter, who were his atten
dants, to loosen his bands a little, so that he
could exercise his limbs. Thesquaw evident
ly felt an interest in the prisoner, and several
times Sol tb aught he. saw a tear moisten
ber eye as sho turned to gaze on him,
while following her father from the wigwam
in which he was confined. He had strong
hopes that this girl might assist him to cs
cape, though in what way was difficult to
conceive, as two braves kept guard outside
the door day and night, besides his being
securely tied to stakes driven into the ground
Twice a day had the old man and his daughter
visited the prisoner with food, during the
whole time of his confinement, and though he
questioned them he elicited nothing regarding
bis 'probable fate till the evening before the
day fixed for his execution, when the old man
told him that on the morrow at sunrise h
would be led forth to die. Up to this time be
had cherished the hope that be would find
means to escape, but now despair took hold on
him, and he gave vent to his feelings in a pas
sionate burst oi griei. in me in last oi ins sor
row the old. man seemed moved by pity, and
beckoning to his daughter walked slowly from
the tent, followed by the young squaw, who
on passing Sol, stooped quickly and placed a
knife beside the hand of the prisoner, at the
same time pointing to tho rear of the tent
then placing her finger on her lip to enjoin si
lence, she disappeared with her father. Sol
interpreted the movement that he was to use
the knife first, to cut the cords which bound
him. and then to onen a way through the rear
of the tent, which was of skins, for his escape
He carefully placed the knife under his body
and anxiously awaited the time when all would
be quiet without a signal tb at all except his
guard were asleep. It was after midnight
however, before the quietness gave him hopes.
that all was safe enough for him to commence
operations. At length all was still, not even
the cat-like tread of bis guard could be heard
Aftor listening attentively, without being able
to detect the slightest sound, he carefully sev
ercd his bonds, and moved his limbs to assure
himself that he was able to walk. ,IIe then
moved cautiously to the part of the tent point
cd to by the squaw, and slowly and carefully
divided the deerskin covering till he had mado
an opening large enough to crawl through,
which ho did, and found himself again free.
Tho moon was. shining brightly, and enabled
him to see his situation that he was near the
woods on that side of thp village next the- set
tlements. Just then a cloud obsenred. tlie
moon, as if to favor his escape, and in the
shadow he succeeded In gaining the woods.
At first his limbs were stiff .and numb, but the
excitement and exercise soon impelled the
blood to the extremitiics, and he. felt that he
wis.yct a match for an Indian, and sternly re
solved that if overtaken he woulil.sell his life
as dearly as possible, and would never be re
captured. Aided by the bright moonlight, he
made such headway that by daylight he was
some ten miles from the scene of his captivi
ty. The Indians were unable to overtake him,
and ou the third day he arrived at home, and
brought the news of tho massacre of his com
rades. ... . .. -. -'
In the autumn following : Sol's escape, the
Rangers were again called upon to chastise
the Red-skins who had made an inroad into a
settlement some distance from the one in
which Sol lived. It was not deemed necessary
to remove the women and children from his
settlement, and he again marehed with his
company. After trailing the savages two days
they overtook them, and after a brisk skirmish
they succeeded in taking a dozen scalps and
driving the survivors into the mountains. Re
turning home victorious, they disbanded into
small parties, on reaching the settlements, and
each party took the route to their respective
settlements. Sol and a few others proceeded
up the valley in which lay their homes, and
when within half a mile of Sol's cabin, he left
his companions, and turBing to the right, hur
ried home to meet a loving wife and tender
prattling children. But, oh ! horror of hor
rors ! Tho accursed Red-skins have been
there, and he finds his wife and children mur
dered and scalped, and his house plundered
and in flames. lie gazed with horror on the
terrible spectacle, and then muttering the
word "vengeance," he coolly proceeded to draw
the ball from his rifle, and putting in an extra
charjre of powder, he poured in a handful of
bullets, and carefully examining the flint, he
took the trail of the savages, which led nearly
in the direction in which his comrades were
travelling. He judged that the Indians were
not more than a mile ahead when he left the
burning house,, and as to their numbers, he
never thought of that, but only how he might
revenge bis murdered family. He followed on
a run, till he judged by appearances that he
was near the Indians, when he became cau
tious, and soon discovered his foes standing
in a group, looking into a large mirror which.
they had stolen from Sol's house. They were
so intent on beholding their faces, as reflected
in the mirror, that Sol crept up to within thir
ty yards unobserved, and bringing his gun to
bear on the center of the group, he fired, a
crashing report, a terrific yell from the In.
dians, and an answering shout from the com
rades whom Sol had left a short time before
waked tho echoes of that lovely valley. Ere
many minutes elapsed, the party of Rangers
were on the ground and found Sol senseless,
and bleeding from the wounds received from
his shattered gun. A search was commenced,
which resulted in finding fifteen Indians killed
and wounded by bullets and pieces of the glass
of the mirror.. Tho tomahawk soon settled
the fate of the wounded, and when Sol had re
covered sufficiently they all pledged each oth
er that they would show no mercy to a Red
skin, not regarding ago or sex. And Sol, over
the graves of his loved ones, swore to devote
his life to the work of vengeance ; and right
fearfully did he keep bis oath, as another in
cident of his life will prove.
The spring following the murder of Sol
family, ho again took tho field under the same
captain, wlio appeared to second all the plans
which Sol had formed of avenging the massa
ere of his family. An expedition was agreed
upon to destroy the town where Sol had been a
prisoner, and from which he had made so time
ly an escape. Accordingly, everything being
arranged, the Rangers were mustered, and a
mounted to somo thirty-five men only, who
were able to undertake the fatigues of the
proposed expedition. The number was small
when it was considered that they meditated
an attack on a tribe who numbered up
wards of sixty warriors, and in their own vil
lage too : but the scheme embraced treach
ery enough to make up the disparity
enough
numbers and situation, as the sequel will
show. It was near the middle of May when
the Rangers left tho frontier settlement
and took their course up the lovely valley of
the Juniata. At the end of a week they ar
rived in the neighborhood of the village, with
out having been discovered. The plan was
now made, known to the company that twenty
then of tho company should conceal them
selves in the woods neaStohc town while the re
maining fifteen should send two of their num
ber into the town, bearing a white handker
chief fastened to a ramrod, as a sign of peace
and good will, and that they should propose to
surrender the whole (fifteen) on being allowed
to join tho savages on the same terms which
the Tories did, that was equality in plunder.
and in everything. ' The rest of the plot will
be developed as we proceed. The followin
night the Rangers took a position within a half
mile of the village, twenty of tbem conceal
ing themselves in such a manner that each
could , pick his Indian according to number
.The remainder took a position in an open spot
and sent Sol, and auother man named Lucas
with the flag of. truce, into the village, about
sunrise. The Indians were thrown into a 6tate
of great excitement, upon the appearance of
tho two Rangers, though they were altogether
unarmed, rexceut oistols and knives which
were concealed about their persons,) and i
spite of the white flag. They recognized their
old prisoner in Sol, who did not give them
time to recover from their surprise till he sta
ted to their chief men that they two, with
thirteen of their comrades, had deserted from
Captain E's company, and wished to join them
In warring against the whites. The Indians at
fir st received the story with distrust, bat the
off-hand maniwr in f-blen Sol gave his story
and the respect with which they looked upon
him, (even though an enemy,) for hia bravery,
soon induced them to give credit to his state
ment. .: With the caution which seems almost
part of the nature of the Indian they turned
out near fifty warriors, to escort the deserters
into the village. It was evident that they did
not intend to be caught in a anare, if care in
preparing their arms, and in placing their
bravest men in front on the march would pre
vent it. ' Sol and Lucas were ordered to walk
a few paces In advance. They thus proceed
ed until they came in sight of the Rangers,
who were drawn up in line with their rifles at
a shoulner, and a sheet of white paper affixed
to tho muzzle of each gun. The Indians ad
vanced to within fifty yards of the Rangers
when they ordered Sol, who was some eight or
ten paces in advance, to halt. He did so, and
instantly twenty rifles crashed their reports on
the morning air, and as many Indians fell dead
or mortally wounded. Sol made a bound for
ward, and fell as if shot, while Lucas, forget
ting his instructions, started to run. At the
same moment the thirteen deserters fired and
fell flat on the ground. The Indians fired to
ward where the deserters stood, and then
throwing down their rifles rushed upon them,
tomahawk in hand. Lucas had only run a few
paces when a tomahawk was thrown, and bu
ried in tho back part of bis head, and be fell
dead. Scarcely had Sol waited for the fire of
friends and foes to pass over him ere he was
again on his feet, and with a yell he met the
advancing savages, with a double barrel pistol
in hia left hand and a hunting knife in his
right. On the instant of delivering their fire
the rangers sprang from their coverts, and
with a terrible shout rushed npon their victims
Sol was immediately attacked by two Indians,
one of whom he dispatched with his pistol,
and tho other he wounded so badly that he let
fall his tomahawk. Sol instantly closed with
him and soon finished him with his knife. He
thennatched up the tomahawk of one of his
fallen foes and dashed into the thickest of the
fight, dealing death on every side. Meanwhile
the Rangers hrd surrounded their enemies and
were beating them down with their rifles club
bed, with their tomahawks, and sometimes e
ven dealing blows with their fists, or feet.
The savages fought with the stubborn brave
ry of despair, and would not fly even if they
had been in a situation to do so, which was
not the case; for one half of their number
had fallen by the first fire, and in ten minutes
afterward not more than a dozen survived.
These fought on however, yelling like demons,
but they were warring at fearful odds, as the
heavy rifles of the Rangers came crashing on
their shaven and painted heads, scatteiing the
brains over their companions. A few minutes
more and the last of the band fell, beneath the
sturdy arm of Sol, who had raged like a wild
beast robbed of her whelps through the fight,
and had slain five of the Red-skins with his
own hands. The Rangers then started for the
village, w here they found some twenty war
riors, chiefly old men, with the women and
children, busily engaged in fortifying "the
Council house," and preparing for a spirited
defense. The Rangers who had only two men
killed in tho battle, now prepared to stornthe
house, which being built in the usual form of
their Lodges,' (by setting up poles and fasten
ing them at the top, and then covering with
skins,) did not afford any serious obstacle to
their attack. They .received the fire of the
Indians, and then delivering their own rushed
into the house, each cutting his way with his
knife or hatchet, and then commenced an in
discriminate slaughter of men, women, and
children, which equalled in ferocity and cru
elty anything perpetrated by the Tories and
Indians. In a short time not an Indian of any
age or sex survived, except the old man and
bis daughter, who waited upon. Sol when a
prisoner, and to the latter of whom he owed
his freedom and his life. He had sought them
out as soon as he had effected an entrance into
the lodge, and though the old man resisted
bravely he succeeded in making prisoners of
of them both, and conveying them outside,
where he left them in charge of two wounded
Rangers who were still able to use their rifles,
while he returned to help complete the butch
ery in the lodge. In a short time the work
was complete, and the Rangers after scalping
the warriors, and piling all the combustible
material which they could collect in the vil
lage around the Council house set it on fire,
and taking up the bodies of three of their
comrades, who had fallen in the attack and
massacre, they returned to the battleground
of the morning. Here they buried those who
had been killed In both engagements, which
reduced their number to thirty, nearly half of
whom were wounded, though none so severely
as to prevent their return the same evening to
the spot where they had secreted their knap
sacks and provision, nere they encamped till
morning.when Sol called up bis prisoners, and
telling them that they bad saved his life; and
now he would do as much for them, be loosed
the cords that bound them, and told them they
were free. . Ho offered to take tbem borne with
him, and take caro of them dnring life, but
tho old man declined, stating that on the side
of the Alleghanies towards the setting sun
there was a branch of his tribe who had never
warred with the wbitemen, and he would go
to them, and lay his bones with his fathers,
who vera buried in the mountains. Sol in
his'eratitude then offered to marry the girl
who bad been the means of his escaping the
torture, but though she exhibited a strong af
faction for him, she preferred going with her
father. -.'' i
The Rangers returned home, bringing with J
them, as trophies, tho scalps of sixty-seven
warriors. The number of women and children
murdered could never be ascertained, as tho
Rangers were hoartily ashamed of what thty I
had doue, and. refused to tell, if they knew,
the number. Sol claimed eight of the scalps
taken, as his property, besides two prisoners
taken, and set free, and who knows how. many
innocent but we turn fr0m the subject, and
draw a veil over many other scenes of bloody
cruelty, which ho came through. He lived
till old age made him "delight in fighting his
battles oer again," and he frequently boasted
that he had slain "eighty-one Bucks with one
horn," (alluding to Indian warriors and their
powder-horns,) ''besides smaller game."
. Who shall condemn Sol for what he did un
der circumstances that rendered him a perfect
monomaniac on the subject of revenge, or who
shall say "I would have acted diflei cntly."
While we condemn the acts we should taKe
into consideration the circumstances under
which they were committed. We know that
the mind from dwelling too long or too intent
ly on one subbject becomes unhinged, and the
person becomes a monomaniac on that sub
ject, however sane be may bo on every other.
Though we are wholly unable to excuse such
actions, yet in view of all the facts of the case,
we should not utterly condemn.
I bare thus briefly sketched a few incidents
in the life and vengeance of a Ranger Solo-
moo Ducrow. "Mollie."
Woodward, February, 1853.
A CUP OF BETTERS.
Thoughtless people would have tho world
made up of sweets ; they would expunge bit
ter substances as useless. When, however, we
look into nature's laboratory, we see that bitters
have not been made in vain. The consump
tion of bitter substances by the human family
is so great that it can only be compared to the
demand for sweets. Bitter, subbtances, like
sweets, can beexetracteu from a great variety
of plants growing in different tmrts or the
earth. The purest bitter principle is yieiuca
by the quassia tree, so called alter a negro
named Ouassi. who used it with remarkable
success in curing a malignant fever which pre
vailed at Surinam. .Nearly all the bitter plants
are callede&ritg, from their power to cure
fever. It is not. however, in ill health that
bitters are solely used, but in ordinary bever
ages, which are not absolutely essential to sup
port life. The principal bitters usca in Eng
land is well-known to be derived from the hop
plant; in Germany it is from wormwood; in
Italy it is from absinth. In the latter country
we sec men smoking their segars, and if leis
urely conversing they drink"bottled absinth,"
which, to an English palate, is so bitter as to
be perfectly nauseous. In the Levant they
eat a sort of gourd, or bitter cucumber. Some
of the Biblical interpreters think that this is
the plant spoken of in the Second Book of
Kings, Chap. IV, ver. 39-41, on tasting which
for the first time, the peoplo exclaimed to
Elisha "there is death in the pot,"-but on be
ing mixed with meal there was "no harm in
it." In Scotland they dry and chew the roots
of the bitter vetch ; these roots are also put
into their whiskey. The bitter vetch is repu
ted to have the power of allaying hunger and
thirst for a lengthened period ; but in London
the "evening topers" drink bitters in the mor
ning to stimulate the appetite. There are a
great many other bitter plants nsed in various
parts of the world. In Sweden the marsh
sedum, or wild rosemary, takes the place of
the hop ; and in North America they have a
plant called Labrador tea, which affords a more
bitter infusion than the China tea used in
England. Among the other numerous bitters
we must not forget the chamomile, the bitter
of which is said to be ' the only remedy for
nightmare. Marmalade, turnip-tops, and many
other things are included among the bitter
food which we eat and relish. It is not a lit
tle remarkable that young people have a dis
like to anything that is bitter, while elderly
persons generally prefer bitter things. This
is just as it should be; for as life advances,
our spiritual self would seem to require a sort
of grease to the wheel a resin to tho bow;
and this is well supplied by bitters.
Thomas Wisaxs, Esq., of that city, says the
Baltimore Clipper, has, we learn, recovered a
claim of five millions of dollars against the
Russian Government, which makes his share
of the proceeds from freight and passenger
travel over the Railroads of that country,
reach the sum of seventeen millions drafts
for which on the banks of Europe have been
brought on to him.. It appears that, in his
contract with Russia, he was to receive a cer
tain per centage on all freight and passenger
travel, but it was thought by the Government
that they wero exempted lrom this tax wl.en
applied to the transportation ol soldiers to
take part in the war of the Crimea. He ac
cordingly engaged the services of John H. B.
Latrobe, Esq., who went on and recovered the
claim by due course of law, and, on account
of the many thousand soldiers transported,
bis proportion was swelled lrom twelve to
seventeen millions. Mr. Latrobe, we under
stand, received a fee of $10,000 a month, in
dependant of his expenses, and upon reach
ing this city, and announcing the result of
his labors, was presented with a check for
$100,000.
"Ah mo !" said a pious lady, "our minister
was a very powerful preacher ; for the short
t;m h ministered the Word unto us, he kick
ed three pulpits to pieces, and banged the in
ards out or five Bibles."
- Avian died last summer, in Cuba, aged one
hundred and sixty -five years, according to the
newspapers, which add that "his first sickness
was that which carried him to his grave."
"Do make yourselves at home, ladies," said
a lady to her visitors one day. I am at home
myself, and wish von all were."
SKETCHES IN CONGRESS
. - From Life Illustrated.' "' r '1 .1
Of course our readers have all heard ol
Glancy Jones, of Pennsylvania, the leader of
the House, and the Presidential organ. There
he sits, at his desk, quietly opening letters,
looking over newspapers, and filing docu
ments. He has a fine bald neaa, ngui-eoiorea
hair and whiskers, and a pleasant expression
of countenance. The looker-on would almost
be tempted to believe that he possesses the
art of "doing several things at & time," for
even while busied in glancing over his corres.
pondence, he keeps up a lively conversation
with a member at bis cidow, ana every now
and then jots down a memorandum of somo
point made by the speaker now addressing the
House. ' '
The gentleman sitting near bim, with a pro- .
fusion of dark curls and a restless Southern
eye, is Lawrence M. Keitt, of South Carolina,
lie leans carelessly on his desk, sometimes
listening to the orator, and sometimes gazing
around the galleries, as if to recognize some
familiar face in the crowds there. lie is not
an agreeable speaker, jerking out bis phrases
and sentences in a manner that reminds you.
of a pump-haudle, and using a variety of un
graceful gestures. Besides all this, he archea
his brows, corrugates his toreueaa, ana con
torts his whole countenance, when absorbed -in
some eazer debate, in a manner more ludi
crous than imposing'. It calls to our mind tho
anecdote reported of him a year or two ago,
that when engaged in an enthusiastic speech,
he became so "last and furious" in bis grima
ces, that a member on tho opposition side
quietly rose and moved to a point of order.
This being admitted, no wagisuiy inquired
"whether it was in order for the gentleman
from Sonth Carolina to make facet At his op
ponents ?" This query,and the peals of laugh
ter with which it was haiiea, proven a uecidua
damper to his enthusiasm !
. . . -. . ,
A. suauen nusn prevails uirougiioui mo
House, as Alexander H. Stephens, of Georgia,
rises to speak. His appearauce has often been
minutely described yet ever time you see
him, you are involuntarily struck by the same
singular sensation. His figure is small, slen
der, and delicate as that of a boy ; it is said
he weighs scarcely a hundred pounds, and his
head seems unnaturally large in proportion to
that slight frame. The face is pallid and
ghastly, and bears the distinct impress of
physical pain and disease, but his eye is keen,
restless, and piercing as that of a falcon. See
how earnestly he gesticulates with those long,
white fingerSjWhile every word he speaks seems
to thrill through and through his f rait physique!
His voice is a thrill treble, heard plainly above
tho hum and murmur of the House, whichr
indeed, is somewhat subdued, as his well
known eloquence and ability command a deep
interest from all quarters. He sinks back pale
and exhausted into his seat ; but this debility
does not long endure, for the giant powers of
energetic intellect have socompletejacommand
over the diseased body, that in five minutes
he is again busied in debate.
That portly govitlcman whose huge emloin
point corresponds well with his good-humored
face, is Humphrey Marshall, of Kentucky, one
of the ablest members and soundest debaters
of the House. He doesn't believe in the pre
valent fashion of luxuriant beards, but closely
shaven, and, with a pleasant smile on his coun
tenance, and chestnut hair, slightly sprinkled
with gray, presents the very embodiment of
good health. good temper, and good fellowship.
The gentleman who leans back in his seat,
talking to Marshall, is Henry Winter Davis, of
Maryland. He has a remarkably black eye, a
profusion of jetty hair, parted on his brow,
and a closely trimmed monstache on his upper
lip. Our readers will probably remember him
as having held a prominent place in the Cor
ruption Committee last winter. He is a bril
liant and witty speaker, and a great favorite
with the fairer portion of his auditors, who '
pronounce him a "love of a pretty man." Less
impulsive and partial judges, however, think
bim too showy anaprUor to p6ssess correspond
ing depth of idea and argameat.
We must suspend our crayon for a while,
for some one has moved to adjourn ; there ia
a rush to tho doors, both from House and gal
leries, and in a few moments all that is left on
this scene, sacred to national talent and states
manship, will be a few reporters, and one or
two lingering pages and officials.
. Mas. George W. Wtllvs.
A good story is told of a country gentleman
who for the first time heard an Episcopal cler
gyman preach. He had read much of the aris
tocracy and pride of the church. When he
returned borne he was asked if the people were
"stuck up." "Pshsnv, no," said the man ;
"why the minister actually preached in hia
shirt-sleeves." -
A Fact. Farmers' daughters, cherry-cheeked,
ruddy, hale and intelligent, srill soon bo
the life and pride of the country. Our city
ladies will ruin their health, by madly follow
ing fashion to destruction, and our hopes for
the future lies in the country girls. "
A young American lady in Paris threatens
to sue President Buchanan for breach of prom
ise. She says that dining at her father's ta
ble, years ago, he said to her "My dear Miss,
if ever I. should be President, you shall be
mistress of the White House."
A boy being praised for his quicknoss of re
ply a gentleman observed, "when children are
so very keen, they generally become stupid as
they advance in years." The lad immediately
replied "what a very keen boy you must have
been." V .
At Worcester, a drunken housekeeper, who
was smashing up his beds, tables and chairs at
a furious rate, told the police officer who inter
fered, that be was breaking tip housekeeping.
Gov. Packer has pardoned Monroe Stewart,
whom Charlotte Jones and Fife declared inno
cent of any participation in the murder for
which they were executed. -j
The followine sisn on Western Row. Cin
cinnati, bears the impress of orurln&litr s
Kaiks, Krackers, Kandies, Konfeckshunnarys,
Uolesale and Retale.
Pome. The wind it blew, the snow It flew,
and raised particular thunder with skirts
and hoops, and chicken coops and all inch
kind of plunder. : - , ' ' X
A gentleman has discovered a way to dis
perse a crowd of idle boys. He offers to teach
them the Catehim, and the- instantly slope.
ill
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