:
-5
I-
BY S. B. ROW.
CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1859.
VOL. 5. NO. 23.
it
LIVE BRAVELY.
The world i half darkened with crosses
Whose burdens are weighing them down ;
They croak of their stars and ill-usage.
And grope in the ditch for a crown.
Why talkto the wind of thy fortune,
Or clutch at dutinotion and gold ?
If thou canst not reach high on the ladder,
Thou canst study its base by thy hold .
- For the flower though hid in the corner,
Will as faultlessly finish its bloom,
Will reach for a sparklo of sunshine.
That clouds have ot dared to consume.
. And woaldit thou be less than a flower,
With thought, and a brain, and a hand?
Wouldst wait for the dribbles of fortune.
When there's something that these may comand ?
There in food to be won from the furrow,
And forests that wait to be hewn,
There is marble untouched by the chisel !
Days that break on the forehead of June.
Win ye let the plow rust in the furrow
Unbuilded a home or a hall ?
Nor bid the stones wake from their silence
And fret, as if fretting were all !
Go, learn of the blossom and ant-hill :
There's something thy labor mustgire.
Light the beacon that pierces the tempest,
Mriko the elog from thy footing, and lire.
Lire Dot trail with tby face in the dross heap,
In the track of the brainless and proud,
Liit the cerements away from tby manhood,
Thou'rt robbing the dead of a shroud.
There are words and pons to be wieldei,
There are thoughts that must die if unsaid,
Wouldst tbcu saunter and pine-away roses,
Or sepulchre dreams that are dead ?
2o, drag not thy hope to the pyre.
X renins dead from the ashes will rise,
Look not down npon earth for its shadow
There is sunlight for thee in the skies.
PASS IT or.
X STORT THAT CVERYBODT SHOULD READ.
"John I" said Mrs. Jones as sho took off
hr working apron after washing up thu tea
dishes, "let's go over to Smith's and sit a.
wlnle this pleasant evening. It'll rest you
to take a short walk after sitting all d-y upon
the bench, and I'd like to have an old-fashioned
that with Mary."
"To Smith's V exclaimed tlie little tailor,
with a staro of surprise, as he removed his
segar from his lips, and turned around in his
chair lo scan hit wife's features, as if to as
sure lituiself of her sanity. "And what on
canii should wc go over there for 7"
" Why, to make a visit of course, and why
shouldn't we ?"
"Reason enough, I should think, why we
should., not, and I'm astonished to hear you
propose such a thing. Why, what has come
ver tho woman alt of a sudden ?" and Mr.
Jours peered into tho face of his wife, and
paused lor a reply.
"iVell, I'll tell" you what, John, I've been
thinkir.g about our trouble with our neighbors
a great deal lately, and I've made up tuy
mind that it isu't pleasant to live this way,
ir.iulging in hard feelings, and allowing onr
selvus to say unkind things, and harp upon
the oM string that ought to have been worn
il !ocg anil I believe that the best
thing we can do, is to let these unpleasant
tiiultcrs drop entirely,and renew our intimacy,
and try to avoid quarreling in future."
"Wei!, I'm willing to do so, if Smith's
f-lks want to ; but I think it belongs to them
to make the first advances they're the most
to bituie and I feel as though it would be a
littli too much like crawling, t3 be the first to
try to make up. If Smith will only say that
lie was wrong, and ask me to overlook his
f-mlt, I'il forgive him from the bottom of my
heart, and we'll shake hands, and be friends ;
but von know lie did use me real mean about
thse groceries."
"Tea; I think Mr. Smith was to blame ; I
hare never changed my mind, in the least,
as to that, and I think, too, that it belongs to
hint, as the first otlouder, to make some ac
knowledgments to you; but I know that he
never will do it ; and though as you say, it
does seem as if they ought to come to us first,
yet I know they never will. Mary never
would, anyhow ; I know her of old. She's is
as immovable as a rock. I have heard ber
say that she believed that the hardest thing in
the world that could be required of her, would
be to acknowledge a fault, andthat.it she once
got angry at a person, she did not think she
could ever forget it, and lore that person as
well ia future. Mow, ip Jhis state of things
we are only getting more and more estranged,
and I am tired of it. I don't feel happy ; it
seems to me that we ought to do right, wheth
er others do right or not ; and I, for one, feel
sorry' that anything of the kind extsts !"
So do I ; but whose fault is it, pray tell V
'tisn't ours, certainly."
'Not ours to begin with perhaps ; but we
have helped to widen the breach, and no doubt
we have done wrong, I know that it is wrong
f.o cherish such bitterresentment, and to speak
no harshly of any one, as we have of them.
And John, I don't believe you realize th.t
amount of evil that we have taken into our
hearts since this difficulty arose. Why, don't
you know that we are getting so that we pick
flaws with everything that Mr. Smith's folks
do. We envy them their pospcrity i we se
cretly rejoice at their misfortunes ; we ieel
jealous of every movement that they make ;
charging them with bad motives, and credit
ing every evil rumor that is circulated about
them. Why, I feel, sometimes, as though I
'bad sinned more than they have ; I have mag
nified their faults ; I have forgotten my own
sins, in looking at theirs ; and this morning,
when I prayed, Fuegivt us our trespass es as
ct forgive those tcho trespass against us." I
was really shocked when I thought what I
iad asked for. Oh, If God forgives me as I
Yorgive them, I fear I shall have but a small
chance of salvation." "
' Mrs. Jones was getting warmed np with her
subject, and. she saok back in the rocking
chair which she had taken beside ber husband,
'and covering ber face with her hands, she sat
for some time in silence; but, as Mr. Jones
made no reply, she rocked forward, and tap
ping the ' floor with her feet, she fidgetted a
bout a moment, and began again :
I know what you are thinking of John.
I know that I have always held you back
when you felt disposed to make any advances,
and that 1 have said ten words to your one
about Mr. Smith and his wife ; but that is my
way, yoa know. What I do, I, do with my
might ; and novy that I feel the necessity of
exercising ' forbearance, I want to be ss thor
ough in the good work, as I was active in the
evil oracticd ot denouncing everything onr
neighbors did, suRpectlnf all tfcHr Intentions
towards us, and harping forever upon the in
jury we naa received at their hands. I know
that I said I never would cross their thresh
hold again ; but "a bad promise is better bro
ken than kept," is a wise old saying, and
I'm willing to take back that, and a good many
otner mings mac i have said, whether they
retrace anytning or not.
"But what a triumph it will be to them
We shall virtually acknowledge to the world
that the fault lay with us; and I can imagine
the patronising airs that Smith will assume
toward us. Bah! 1 wont do it; it's a little
loo Humiliating !" And Mr. Jones arose, and
stood witn bis back to the fire, and looked a
round him with a dignified air.
I don't look upon it in that light, now ;"
said Mr. Jones. "I confess 1 did, until of
late ; but it seems to me, now, as though I
must do my duty, and then I shall feel happy
again. It's of no use, this trying to lay all
tlie blame upon them. We are all to blame
In the first place, it was a foolish quarrel a
bout a few pounds of tea and sugar. You
thought he ought to have saved some of his
best articles for you, because you had spoken
for them before their arrival ; and because he
did not, we felt hurt, and charged him with
showing partiality towards his wealthier cus
tomers ; and when he denied the charge, you
gave him to understand that you did not be
lieve him ; that you knew he did not forget
wnat you naa saia some time before ; and you
Know mat must nave been provoking."
Well; but didn't I know ? Didn't Shaw
tell me that he heard Smith say that he wish
ed he had more of tbatsugar,for that I onghtto
nave some of it ; but that he always tilled out
Major Knight's orders, and that was what took
the last r
"Yes ; I know we have heard one thing
here, and another thing there, and people
have not been at all backward in encouraging
us in our-course towards Mr. Smith. Some
times I wish we had never listened to a single
thing told us about him. It is had to believe
that he has slandered us, as we have heard :
and it is hard to feel that wc cannot place con-
naence in those who told us. N o doubt it h:s
been the same with one hide, that it was with
the other. They have said hard things about
us. We hare done the same by them, until
the foolish little quarrel has grown into a se
rious difficulty, and the first cause is almost
forgotten in the throng of bitter words, cold
looks, and galling acts of unkindness which
have followed. I'll tell you what I think. In
the first place, Mr. Smith was wrong. It was
very natural for us to resent it; but I wish,
now, we never had. But what's done can't
be undone. You told hini what you thought
not, however, till you had told several oth
ers, and beard things to aggravate the case.
Then, you know, you did not keep your tem
per very well. Mr. Smith got angry too, and
made some very unkind remarks. We felt
injured, and cherished a foolish pride in let
ting people see that we could show proper ro
sentmeut when we were abused. Then other
people stepped in not to make peace, but
to widen the breach and we sat down every
thing that came to us as true, often magnify
ing some slight remark into a hideous inucn-
do. And so. you see, we are to blame verv
much so. We are all erring creatures; not
one of us but has faults, and it seems to me
that we ought to consider our own frailties
when we feel inclined to censure others and
not pick tip every bone of contention that
comes in our way, but just pass it by, and
think no more about it!"
Yes yes you are right;" answered the
husband ; "but the plague of it is, if Smith
and I go to talking matters over, we shall just
take a circle, and come right round to the
starting point, and neither of us will own
that we were wrong in the first place. I know
just how it will be. It is of no use to talk it
over; it will just be a raking up of all the
troubles from first to last, and such affairs are
just like a coal fire the more you stir it, the
hotter it grows."
Let the fire alone, tho', and it will smoul
der away, and die out of itself. So, with this
trouble ; let it go. Say to them, let by-gones
be by-gones, and just drop the matter entire
ly, and begin where we left off, forgetting that
anything of an unpleasant nature has happen
ed. Come, now, w hat do you think of it ?"
"Mrs.Jones adjusted her collar, and smooth
ed her hair with her hand, as if preparing for
a start. Mr. Jones sat down again, laid his left
foot over his right knee, and leisurely picked
the lint from his trowsers, gathering it in lit
tle pinches, and carefully dropping it between
the andirons, for they sat before a cheerful
wood-fire. lie was in something of a quandary.
Pride and conscience were struggling for f ho
mastery in his heart; at last be said, "Blame
me if I want to have it go all over the village
that I acted the peniteut, and Smith the mag
nanimous judge who listened to my humble
suit, and granted a merciful pardon."
Now, John," said the wife, "which is real
ly most magnanimous, to acknowledge a fault,
or forgive one 1 It seems to nic to be the
most easy, natural thing in the world, to for
give an erring friend when he takes the place
of a penitent. But I know that the proud heart
struggles long and painfully with itself, when
it feels tho justice and the necessity of ac
knowledging a fault ; and when it has achiev
ed this victory, it seems to me that it has won
higher honors than it has when it obeys its
natural impnlses, and run over with forgive
ness and tender compassion towards a peni
tent. We ought not to allow a dread of the
scoffs of village gossips to deter as from onr
duty. Let ns do what will please God, and
every truly good person. Let us set our own
hearts at rest, and feel that w hatever others do
or say, wo will do right. Better be sneered at
for a'good act than condemned for a bad one.'
"Well," said the tailor, "I wish it was well
over. I do feel dreadfully awkward about go
ing over there under the circumstances. But
come ! We can walk along down that way.and
if we do not want to go in, we can jnst take a
stroll around and come home again !"
They were soon equipped for their walk,and
locking the door behind them, passed through
the narrow front yard, and stepped into the
street. It was a clear Autumnal evening. The
moon shone brightly, and lit up the streets of
the village with a soft, mild radiance, and all
along upon the sidewalks lay little patches of
quivering light and shades where the moon
light and the shadows of the over-hanging
tree-bonghs danced together, to, the music of
the night wind.
"I can imagine Jnst how everything looks
around the old homestead now !" said Mrs.
Jones, In a low, subdued tone. "This is just
such an craning a always remind me of
one of the scenes described by Pollett t
"It was an eve of Autom's holiest mood ;
The cornfields bathed in Cynthia's silver light,
Stood ready for the reaper's gathering hand ;
And all the winds slept soundly."
You remember that beautiful description of
an Autumn evening, do you not J Ob, how
many times Mary and I have repeated that as
we walked together, up and down the avenue
at the EIms,whea we were happy school girls.
Oh, what visits we used to have ; what secrets
wo confided to each other, and how we vowed
eternal constancy ! w e might have been very
foolish and sentimental, but we were certainly
very happy. It does not seem possible that we
have been estranged so long. How little we
dreamed, when we were married and settled
down in the same village, that months would
pass over our heads without au interchange of
kind words and loving smiles. Oh, it seems
to me to-night, that I can never entertain an
unkind feeling towards an old friend again.
Everything seems so calm and holy around
us ; why must there be such strife and tur
moil within 1 But isn't that Mr. and Mrs.
Smith we are going to meet 1"
"Yes, it is! Let us speak to them as if
nothing had ever happened. Good evening I"
siia Mr. Jones, extending his hand toward
Mr. Smith. -
"Good evening !" echoed his wife, grasping
the hand of her otd schoolmate, and putting
up her lips for a kiss.
It Mr. and Mrs. Smith gave a little start of
surprise, and betrayed a little embarrassment
of manner ; but there was nothing of coldness
in their answering salutations, and that there
might not be an awkward pause after the greet
ing, Mr. Jones added iinnu diatcly, A fino
evening for a walk ! Wo have been speaking
of you. and thought some of calling at your
house before we went home !"
"Indeed! Well, we will turn back, then.
We were only out for a walk.' Mary, dear, Mr.
and Mrs. Jones were thinking of calling on
us. Let us walk back with him !"
"Certainly : Susy has just been telling me.
And so they walked through the streets to
gether. As they proceeded, they mot a few
villagers, who stared after them, as if to as
sure themselves that their eyes saw clearly.
Long before our little party reached their des
tination, the report was going through the vil
lage that "the Smiths and Joneses had made
up, and were good friends again." I do not
know how they would have managed to have
filled up the awful pause necessarily occurring
between their meeting in the streets and their
arrival at Mr. Smith's house, had it not been
for "the weather," that dear old friend who
has helped so many bashful peoplo, awkward
pairs, and dull companies to a topic of conver
sation ; but somehow, they contrived to make
the timp rats Vfnr f?arilv. if nnt. rtlanf K-
, --rf . i J J
and were at last seated in the parlor before a
cheerful coal-fire. Hats, gloves, and shawls
were laid aside, and then there was a moment
of hesitancy on the part of each, and each
dreaded an embarrassing state of things; but
Jones had "screwed his courage up," as he was
wont to express himself, and he was not the
man to back out, now ; so, without waiting for
any one else to open tho way, be began :
"Jlr. and Mrs. bmith ! my wife and I have
been talkiug over matters to-night, and think
ing of the estrangement that exists between
our families, and we have come to the conclu
sion that it is as wrong as it is unpleasant for
us to live as we have been, and that there is
no need of this state of things continuing.
Wc feel that there has been wrong on both
sides ; we know that we have been very much
to blame, and what was at first but a trifling af
fair, has been magnified, and added to till we
have become widely estranged. This quarrel
does not end with ourselves ; almost the whole
village is involved in it; we have each our
own parties and champions, and have created
a great deal of unhappiness for oursolves and
others. I am willing to acknowledge ray fault;
and now, can we not just let this affair drop,
and bury the past, at least all unpleasant por
tions of it, and be friends once more ?"
There was a quick, warm response to this,
on the part of Smith. .
I do not see why we cannot," lie said. "I
am willing to do so. I know that I have said
aggravating things,snd cherished unkind feel
ings. We too, were talking ot this difficulty
to night. It seems to me a good omen that
our minds met upon the same topic. Here is
my hand, Jones. You're a good fellow ; a
little hasty, like myself, sometimes, but such
people, like each other all the better, if they
do fall out occasionally !"
There was a warm shaking of bands in token
of friendship ; the two women were already
sobbing in each others arms. There was a mu
tual forgiveness, and re-union of hearts and
the good old times were lived over again ; and
it was long after the villago was hushed in re
pose before the friends seperated. . Peaceful
were their slumbers that night; their dreams
were undisturbed by the taunts of self-reproach
or the demands of neglected dnties.
Years have since glided awav ; but the two
families have never allowed anvthing to occa
sion a quarrel between them. They have been
tempted, and tried with each others failings.
Meddlers have offered their assistance in mis
construing and exaggerating; but they re
member a bitter lesson, and their motto is,
"Pass it by !"
Suffering in Michigan. The . people of
Gratiot county, Michigan, are represented as
be ire in a very destitute condition, and an
appeal has been made to the Legislature for
aid. There are about 1W0 families in the
county, and of these not more than one quar
ter, it is believed, have the means of subsis
tence until the next harvest. An almost total
failure ot the crops is assigned as the cause of
the existing want.
Twenty-two children, who were floating out
to sea on a large cake of ice upon the ebb tide
m .Boston harbor, a few days ago, were saved
by a man named Wm. Haslero. He was out
n a small boat, and his attention was attract
ed by their screams. He at once pulled to
their assistance, and with great difficulty and
danger took tbem into the boat. Such occa
sions of doing good seldom happen in the
lue of any man.
Smith Sutton, of Kinewood. In Hunterdon
county, New Jersey, sold a turkey ia New
York, last week, lor tne nice iiuie sum oi one
ondred dollars. It weighed, when dressed,
forty pounas
The expenses of the United States Supreme
.1 f m i - " -
Liourt lor ui last ure years, exclusive oi i
judge's salaries, amounted to $113,609, of
which was paid to the clerks over 51,000. J
" TOUGn STORIES.
' An Englishman, who was travelling on tho
Mississippi river, told rather tough stories a
bout London thieves. A Cincinnati chap,
named Case, heard these narratives with a si
lent but expressive humph ! and then remark
ed that the Western thieves beat the London
operatives all hollow. -
"How so 1" inquired the Englishman, with
surprise. "Pray, sir, have you lived much in
the West ?"
'Not a great deol. I undertook to set up
in business in Des Moines Rapids, a while ago,
but the rascally people stole nearly everything
I bad, and at last a Welsh miner ran off with
my wife.'-. . '
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the English
man, "and have you never found her ?"
."Never, to this day. But that was not the
worst of it."
"Worse! ' Why what could be worse than
stealing a man's wife ?"
'Stealing his children, I should say," said
the implacable Case. - . ,
. "Children !"
"Yes, a negro woman, who hadn't any of
her own, abducted my yougest daughter, and
sloped and joined the Indians."' -
'Did you see her ?"
"See her ! yes ; and she hada't ten rods the
start of me ; bat she plunged into the lake and
swam off like a duck, and there wasn't a canoe
to follow her with." .
The Englishman leaned back in bis chair
and called for another mug of 'alf-and-'alf,"
while Case smoked bis cigar and eyed his
credulous friend at the same time most re
morselessly. "I I shan't go any farther West, I think,"
at last observed the excited John Bull.
'I should not advise any one to go," said
Case quietly. "My brother once lived there,
but he had to leave, although his business was
the best in the country.
"What business was he in V
"The lumber business. He hnd a saw-mill."
"And they stole the lumber f"
'Yes, and saw-logs, too."
"Saw-logs?"'.
"Yes, whole dozens of the black walnut logs
were carried away in a single night."
"Is it possible T "
"True, upon my honor, sir. He tried every
way to prevent it, had hired men to watch his
logs, but it was all of no use. They would
take them all away as easy as if there had been
no one there. They would steal them out of
the cove and even out of the mill-house."
"Good gracious !"
'Jnst to give you an idea of how they can
steal oat there," sending a sly wink at the lis
tening company, "jnst to give you an idea
did yon ever work in a saw-mill 7"
'Never."
"Well, one day my brother bought an all
fired fine black walnut four feet three at the
butt, and not a knot in it. He was determin
ed to keep that log anyhow, and hired two
Scotchmen to watch it all night. Well, they
took a small demijohn of whiskey with them,
snaked the log up the hill above the mill, built
a fir and then sat down on the log to play
cards just to keep awake, you se. 'Twas a
monstrous big log, baik two inches thick.
Well, as I was saving, they played cards and
drank whiskey all night, and when it began to
grow light went to sleep astraddle of the log.
About a minute after daylight brother George
went over to the mill to see how they were
getting on, and the log was gone."
"What were the Scotchmen doing V
"Sitting on the bark ! The thieves bad driv
en au iron wedge into the butt end, which
poicted down the hill, and hitched a yoke of
oxen on and pulled it right out of the shell,
leaving the Scotchmen there astraddle of it,
fast asleep. Fact."
WHEH AND HOW TO APPLY MANTJBE.
If we consult Nature taking her processos
as our guide we shall see her vegetable fer
tilizer applied in the fall and there can be
no better evidence that this is a most favor
able time for manuring the soil. Circumstan
ces, it is true, may render it advisable to vary
from this time, and it is one of the objects ot
the farmer's study to be ablo to modify natu
ral laws, and to choose in tome cases conve
nience as his guide. The more perfectly,
however, ho understands Nature, the better
he can command her, but generally, the closer
will be his obedience to her teachings. Na
ture makes no mistake she never practices
false economy all progress is by due obedi
ence to her laws. '
The application of manure in Autumn pre
supposes that it has become partially decom
posed during the Summer, and that it will be
come well rotted by the following Spring,
when needed by plants npon the resumption
of their growth. It is thus ready for . their
nse, and this is one material advantage of ap
plying manure in Autumn. Another advan
tage is that this decomposition has reduced its
bulk without detiorating its value, (if proper
ly earried on,) rendering transportation less
expensive, while at the same time, the team
and the roads are in a better condition for the
work. The Summer season, too, has afforded
time for composting the stores of the barnyard
with muck and other vegelablo matter, thus
increasing largely the amount and value of
both classes of material an important object
to the farmer.
- Nature, if asked the question, "now shall
we apply manure ?" answers, "On the sur
face."' She has no operation analagous to
plowing ; and while we may think we have im
proved upon the methods as we undoubted
ly have in this nd other respects we may
still learn wisdom from her example.- In ap
plying manure to sward-land in the Fall, let it
be spread upon the surface the growing grass
will keep it in place, will keep it moist, and
will gradually work its decomposition." When
we would plow in the Spring, it is 1 n the right
state and position for onr use for the nse of
the succeeding crop and practice proves this
to be one of the best methods of manuring
sward for any crop. In applying manure on
stubble land, it would be well to cover it im
mediately with the gang-plow or cultivator, in
corporating it as thoroughly as may bo with
me suriace son. in Spring, before sowing,
let the land be plowed to a proper depth for
the crop applied, and the result has been in
tho cases in which trial Las been made, a bet
ter crop than from manuring in the Spring in
tho usual manner. '
Practical farmers are studvinr more elosely
than heretofore the nature of soils and plants,
and the demands made npon tbe-f ormer by the
latter, and seeking to learn from practical
science, and from the operations ef 7ature
herself, the most economical method of sup-
plying these demands, freely, ruiiy, ana so
to derive profit from the operation. The "ma
nure question" is one of great interest ana
one freely discussed and we hope to see new
light thrown upon it from this source, sure
ly the practical man has the means, if any one
has, of developing natural laws, and ot testing
the principles which lie at the root of the la
bors in which he is constantly employed, and
upon which he depends (and not vainly) for a
livelihood. It depends upon bimselt whether
he shall be a mere hireling in the great labo
ratory knowing and caring nothing for the
operations he aids in conducting or whether
ha be a skillful analyst, understanding, com
bining, and directing learning and putting to
use the important principles involved.
A hew Rack or Hciiait Beings. Some
time since, a paragraph appeared in a New
South Wales journal, relative to the discovery,
in the far interior, of a new race of blacks,
"who had no hair on the tops of their head,
in the place where the wool ought to grow.''
The account ot this most extraordinary dis
covery, says the Bombay Telegraph, has been
corroborated by an eyewitness, a Mr. Thomp
son, who has arrived l'rctu where the aborigi
nals ruralize :
They are, says he,, of a copper color, and are
tall and athletic, much -superior, in every re
spect, to their dark-skinned brethren. The
women are also said to have more claims to
beanty. Mr. T. it appears, was at camp on the
Upper Balonne, with others, on grouud hith
erto untrodden by a white man, when he was
surprised by a visit from these bald pated,
copper colored beings.
They appeared to havo friendly intentions,
and as noticed in their conduct of an aggres
sive nature, a conversation of nods and signs ,
ensued. After a while a sovereign was shown
to them, where one of them, picking up a
stone, pointed with his finger to the far west,
and intimated that stones of a similar descrip
tion to the sovereign were to be picked up on
the ground in masses as large as the stones he
held. The place was understood to be some
hundred miles further in tho interior, but
they signified their intention of bringing some
of these stones at their next visit. Mr.
Thompson intends to return again to the
Balonne, and to await their arrival. If -this
story be true, the age of wonders has not
yet ceased.
Tali. Walking. We have in our mind one
of the most wonderful feats of pedestrianism,
which, if it were not well substantiated, would
be difficult of belief. It took place a number
of years ago. Mr. Schoolcraft, residing at
Sanlt St. Marie, wished to send an express to
Mackinac, distant by the trail about seventy
five miles. He sent for a half-breed called La
Branch, and told him that he must start at 12
o'clock, m., that day. La Branch objected, as
there was to be a ball in the evening of the
next day. Schoolcraft told him that he must
go, and that as he wanted to attend the ball, if
he was back from Mackinac by 10 o'clock the
next evening, he would give him twenty dol
lars extra pay. At 12 o'clock he started, and
the next day at 10 p. x., appeared again, hav
ing gone the whole distance 150 miles in 3
hours. After receiving the promised twenty
dollars, he said "he could have been in by 8
o'clock, but ho waited two hours on the hill
back of town, for fear that he might get in
ahead ol time, and lose his money." After
leaving Sir. bchoolcrafts store, La Branch went
to the ball, and tripped the moccasincd toe
until daylight." Detroit Advertiser.
Tue Relation of tbk Sexes Strange, pas
sing strange, mat tne relation Detween the two
sexes, the pa&ion of love, in short, should not
bo taken into deeper eonsideration by our
teacners ana onr legislators. Ieoplc edncate
and legislate as if there were no such thing in
the world ; but ask the priest, ask the physi
cian let them reveal the amount of moral
and physical results from this one cause.
Must love be always discussed in blank verse,
as if it were a thing to be played in tragedies
or sung in songs a subject for pretty poems
and weak novels, and had nothing to do with
the prosaic current of our every day existence,
our moral welfare ? Must love be ever treated
with profaneness, as a mere illusion ? or with
coarseness, as a mere impulse 1 or with fear,
as a mere disease ? or with shame, as a mere
weakness 1 or with levity, as a mere accident T
Whereas it is a great mystery, and a great ne
cessity, lying at the foundation of human ex
istence, morality and happiness mysterious,
universal, inevitable as death. Why, then,
should--love be treated less seriously than
death J It is as serious a thing. Mrs. Jameson.
Axecdote or Da kiel Webster. The Bos
ton (Mass.) Courier relates the following: 3Ir.
Webster married the woman he loved, and the
twenty years which he lived with her brought
him to the meridian of his greatness. An an
ecdote is current en this subject, which is not
recorded in the books. Mr.-Webster was be
coming intimate with Miss Grace Fletcher,
when the skein of silk getting in a knot, Mr.
Webster assisted in unraveling the snarl then
looking up to Miss Grace, he said, "We have
untied a knot, don't you think we could tie
one t" Grace was a little embarrassed, said
not a word, but in the course of a few min
utes she tied a knot in a piece of tape and
handed it to Mr. Webster. This piece of tape,
the thread of his domestic joys, was found af
ter the death of Mr. Webster, preserved as
one of his most precious relics.
- Clear as Mm. An editor had a bottle of
London uock trln presented to him, and after
drinking the whole of it, he wrote a 'notice' of
the article." Here Is a specimen of the style :
"Here's to the ladies and other branches of
business bicj in and aronnd town and espe
cially the Messident's Pressago, Monington
Washument, etc.', &o.; all of which may be had
cheap at the Buck Drook Brook and Duck
Store of Bininger's old London Dock Gin, for
$2 a year, if payment is deiayed until the end
of the Atlantic Cable."
- The Sante Fe, New Mexico, Gazette states
that 105,000 ahecp are about to be taken from
Bernaillo and Valentia counties, in that Terri
tory, overland to California. . There is also a
drove of 10,000 from Ohio, now at Santa Fe,
bound for the same destination.
At the late term of court at Machias, Maine,
Thomas Gilpatrick svaa prosecuted for the
alne of three tona of hay destroyed by Are,
py pewoM Intoxicate with Uqoectcld by him
and the Jury ave a -verdict for tn plaintiff.
Til E ROMANCE OF SLATE LIFE.
A KE5TCCKT PLASTER SIIJ.IXO BIS DAC0BTKE.
The Bocyros, Ky., Journal relates a strange
and moving incident ot slave life, which earn
to the editor'a knowledge a week or two ago.
The names of the parties interested are sup
pressed for obvious reasons. The following is
the account given by the Journal j. - .
Near Louisville, Kentucky, lives a planter
of wealth and standing. He was the posses
sor of a hundred negroes, and he was noted
for bis thrifty, money-making disposition.
Ue had never been married, and was an Incor-
rigible bachelor of fifty. .Bis house was man
aged by a young lady of about twenty, his
daughter by a quadroon, whose complexion
was lighter by half thaa his, and In whom the
negro blood was scarcely visible. The metb
rr died ten years ago, leaving her daughter
with the father's solemn promise that she
should be educated, and should live as a free
woman, rather than as a slave, and that she
should pass as his danghter, which she was.
The planter gave bis promise, because he bad
been really attached to the dying woman, and
was also very fond of his beautiful child. And
so she grew up, radiantly beautilnl, receiving
a reasonable education sit that her father
could gire and in tine took the management
of the household. She never knew that there
was any negro blood in her reins, and aerer
dreamed that she was a slare.
Last fall a series of misfortunes overtook
the planter. His house was burned down, and
with it the notes, bonds and papers that com
posed a large portion of bis fortune. His
crops failed to a great degree, and some heavy
speculations in which he engaged resulted dis
astrously. Added to all this, be bad lost hea
vily at play the besetting sin of Southern
gentlemen and had completely exhausted all
his ready means, and found himself in the ter- -
nble situation of having more money to par
than he could possibly raise in a given time.
He applied to his attorney for counsel in
his extremity. - The attorney, after examining
the situation of bis affairs, advised him to sell
off a portion of his negroes. .The planter re
sisted strenuously, first objecting to the sale
of negroes, and alleging that his force was
hardly sufficient to work his plantation. But
after full deliberation, he found this to be the
only alternative, and sorrowfully consented.
A list was made out, and every head that could
be possibly spared was put down. After all
was done, and the most favorable prices ob
tained for tbem, the aggregate fell fire thous
and dollars short of the sum required.
The attorney remarked quietly that he had
not included all that could be spared. '
"I have putd'ow all that I can dispense
with," replied the planter.
. "I do not see Mary, the housekeeper's
name, In the list," repHed the lawyer. "If
offered to the right person, she would make
op the deficiency. 1 would give that for her,
myself." . , .
At any other time, the planter would hare
taken the suggestion as an insult ; bat Neces
sity is a hard raaster, and he grasped at the
idea, and before an hour the transaction was
closed. ' It troubled him not a little to disclose
the matter to her, but ths fear of bankruptcy
and ruin drove him to it. The poor girl's
horror and distress may be imagined. She
hsd known nothing but happiness, and now
was to bo plunged into the deepest and most
hopeless misery. She bad been sold, and was
then the property, soul and body, of one who
purchased her merely for the gratification of
his sensual lusts. The idea was teo horrible,
and she swooned, reaaining almost delirious
for several days.
There was another upon whom the 'intelli
gence came w ith crushing weight. A junior
partner in a produce bouse in Louisville had
frequently visited the planter's boose on busi
ness, and, struck with the beanty and intelli
gence of the supposed daughter, bad become
enamored, and after prosecnting his snit a
proper time, had declared bjs passion, snd,
unknown to ths father, the two had betrothed
themselves. As soon as possible, after ber
father had told her of her late, she dispatched
a messenger to ber lover, stating the facts, and
imploring him to save her from the doom that
awiited her. Though thunderstruck at the
intelligence that his affianced bride was a
slave, and had been sold to a fate worse than
death, like a true man be determined to res
cue her. That night be saw her, and a plan
was formed tor flight.
The day she was transferred to the posses
sion of her new owner, the lovers fled, and, la
due time, arrived at Cincinnati, where . they,
were married. Our hero obtained an inter
view with one f the agents of the Under
ground Railroad, located in that city, who im
mediately telegraphed instructions to the dif
ferent agents along the line to keep strict
watch, and if woraaa -catchers were on the a
Icrt, at any point, to telegraph back, and give
the fugitives timely notice, that they might
leave the train. Accordingly they started,
purchasing tickets for Crestline. ---,
In the meantime the purchaser, as soon as
he discovered his loss, had commenced active
measures to recover it. He had no difficulty
in tracing tbem to Cincinnati, and none what
ever in ascertaining that their destination was
Crestline. But having arrived several boars
after their departure, he was obliged to coa
tent himself with telegraphing to the proper,
officers to arrest tbem at that place. But un
fortunately for his prospects, the intended ar
rest got wind, and when the train got to Gali
on, two citizens of that place stepped into tho'
oar, and a conversation of a few moments en
sued, in the lowest kind of whispers, at tho
close of which the four left the car. A car-'
riage was in waiting, and in two hours the fair'
fugitive and ber husband were domiciled in
the bouse of one of our whole-souled farmers,,
near Bucyrus, w ho has long taken pleasure in
helping fugitives on their way to the Canadi."
an Canaan. . .
When the train on which they embark .
reached Crestline, the officials were onnUm..
bly chagrined at not finding the fugitive, and
more when they learned that she had M.f.n
within four miles of tbem. . -
After a lapse of two weeks lhar
move, and went to Detroit, by the' way ot Saa-.
dusky city, and without accident reached the.
Canadian shore. They are now residing in
The Schwartz Democrats of Berks hare or
ganized themselves into a distinct party, and'
nave resolved to carry on the war aeainst tha
Buchanan hunkers. There are thus three par
ties in Berks. This will make future politI-F
cal movements .Interesting, sud Tory raueh.
tend to oqaaliae tfce chances of sucreis at aU
elections to eoae of? hereafter.