U W
BY a B. BOW.
VOL. 5.-NO. 49.
CLEABFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 3, 1859:
THE OLD POD-AUGER DAYS.
The "pod-auger,?' it may be well enough to
jfcste. waa the article in rogue before the present
acre w auger came into use.
I mw an aged man at work
He turned an auger round ;
And ever and anon he'd panne,
, And meditate profound.
Good morning, friend, quoth I to him,
Art thinking when to raise ?
Oh. no, said he, I'm thinking on
The frld "pod-auger days."
True, by the hardest then we wrought,
With little extra aH:
Bat honors were the thing? we bought,
And honors tboscf We tnade,
But now invention stalks abroad,
, Deception dogs her way;
Things different are from what the were
. In old "pod-auger days."
Then homely was the fare we had?
' And homespun what we wore;
Then scarco a niggard pulled the string
Inside his cabin door.
Then humbugs didn't fly so thick
As half the world to baxc
That sort of bug was scarcely known
In old "pod-auger days."
Then men were strong, and women faif,
Were hearty as the doe ;
Then few so dreadfnl "feeble" were";
They couldn't knit and sew ;
Then girls could sing, and they could work,
And thrum gridiron lays ;
That sort of music took the palm
In old "pod-auger days."
Then men Were patriots rare, indeed,
An Armtld or a Burr ;
They loved their country, and in turn
Were loved and blest by her.
Then Franklin, Sherman, Kittenhousc,.
Earned well their nation's praiso ;
iVe've not the Congress that we had
In old "pod-auger days."
Then, slow and certain was the word ;
Now. de'il the hindmost tak;
" Then, buyers rattled down the tin;
Now words must payment make;
Then murder doing villains soon
Were decked in hempen bays ;
We didn't murder in our steep,
In old "pod-auger days."
Fo wags the world ; 'tis well enough,
If wisdom went by steam,
But in my days she used to drive
A plain old fashioned team ;
And Justice with fc;r bandage off
Can now see cbofc in ways;
She used to sit blind-fold and stern
In old "pod-auger days."
COPmiGHT SECURED. '
CLEAltFIJELD COUJiTY:
OR. REMINISCENCES OF THE PAST. '
' The Kidge settlement on the south side of
the river was commenced by Alexander Read
and bis sons at Mitchell's place. Alexander
Read was a citizen of Cecil county, Maryland.
In 1793 he emigrated to Penn's Valley in Cen
tre county, and in 1S01 or 2 came to Clearfield
and began the improvement mentioned, to
which place he brought his family in 1S03.
lie had fire sons and two daughters: Alexan
der, who married Orst Martha, a daughter of
Ber.j. Jordan, afterwards Elizabeth Reed, and
subsequently, in 1830, Miss Polly Ferguson,
lie met with a sudden death whilst hunting on
Clearfield creek, and some of his descendants
reside in Ferguson township. Thomas was
twice married. His first wife was Mary Jor
dan and his second Margaret Ferguson. lie
Cleared the large farm on the old turnpike,
where the brick Mansion House is erected.
He had a large family of children. John K.
married Mary Reed. He lired on the adjoin
ing place to Thomas until his decease, which
occurred recently. He led a nseful and qui
et life, fearing God and loving Lis neighbor as
himself. James A. married Margaret Ardery,
and Amos was married to Sarah Ardery.
James A. reraoved from this settlement to a
piece of land a short distance below Clearfield
town, but Amos continued in the neighbor
hood and opened out a good farm.- Sarah be
came the wife of William Dunlap, who re
moved from Penn's Valley to this settlement
about 1804. " From this union have sprung
many children, who occupy or reside near the
land upon which William Dunlap settled. Ra
chel, the other daughter, and widow of Alex
ander B. Reed, resides in Clearfield Borough.
Her unostentatious charity her heart alive to
the calls of suffering and distress, and her
hand ever ready to do the promptings of her
heart, have gained for this genuine lady of the
old school a share of public esteem enjoyed
by but few. .
Alexander B. Reed, Esq., sometimes called
'Black Alex,", from the color of his hair and
to distinguish him from "Red Alex," his
brother-in-law, was one of the marked men of
this section of the State. His father was Wil
' liara Reed, who, in 1813, moved from North
ampton county to the farm now occupied by
Daniel Biiley. " A. B. Reed was of large stat
ure and commanding appearance intelligent,
cnterprizing, and sagacious ; impetious, yet
kind and affable' to hi intimates ; unyielding,
he maintained his position with warmth, and
brooked no opposition. His political bias led
lum to espouse the cause of the National Re
publican party. 'In him Henry Clay had an
ardent friend and admirer. His opposition to
the Democratic party was so decided that be
ouly once voted for a nominee of that party,
which was on the occasion of his son-in-law,
"William Bigler, running for Governor vx 1831
gainst Wm. F. Johnston. Mr. Reed at one
time held the office of County Treasurer. ' In
1831 he was a candidate for the LeglaUtnre,
but was defeated. ' Ue was appointed Super
intendent of the West Branch canal in. 1836.
He died on the 21st day of April, 1853, aged
67 years the day of hia death being the anni
versary of his birth. His expiring moments
presented a remarkable illustration Ctbe
power of mind over an exhausted physical sys
tem. His health had been on the decline for
several years, and in November, 1851, he en
dured a most painful operation, performed by
Dr.Pancost,at Philadelphia, for hemorrhoids;
but this brought to him only temporary relifef.
The disease returned in a few months there
after, and continued its exhausting ravages
till the time of his decease. By the middle of
April, 1853, he Was so far redftced thardeath
was inevitable, and the time bad come to gath
er his relatives about him. No one seemed! so
sensible of this, or talked so freely about it,
as himself; but he manifested great unwil
lingness to send for Gov. Bigler and his affec
tionate daughter, the wife of the Governor, so
ipng as the Legislature remained in session;
but a messenger was dispatched for them on
the day of the adjournment, and they arrived
at the residence of Mr. Reed at 7 o'clock on
the evening of the 21st, they being the last of
the relatives to arrive. He received them
witlr marked cordiality, and even a cheerful
air'. He said he was glad they had arrived
that he could not hare delayed much longer
that the family were now all present, and he
would soon leave them. He shortly after
wards caused all his children and relatives to
bo called into the room, and with singular
composure told them that his time had come,
and commenced to take leave of each by a cor
dial shake of the hand. He expired at the in
stant he ceased shaking hands with the last who
surrounded his bedside. So far was his phys
ical system exhausted that his spirit seemed
to take its leave the moment that the will gaf e
its consent. His physicians were impressed
with the belief that nothing but a strong de
sire to live until all his family were gathered
around him, sustained him for several days
prior to his departnre from thl3 earthly sphere.
He had three children Geo. Lattlmer Reed,
Maria Jane, the wife of Hon. Wm. Bigler, and
Rebecca, the wife of John F. Weaver, Esq.
In 1804, George Hunter, an Irishman, for
merly a citizen of Huntingdon county, built a
cabin on the farm owned by John J. Reed,
where he died. He was a singular genius, but
we are Dot aware of the characteristics which
distinguished him from others. It is sa!d that
he was once invited by a neighbor, into whose
house he had entered as the family were about
supping, to sit down and eat with them. His
reply was "no occasion ; I ate just before I
left the settlement." The settlement to which
he referred was Penn'a valley, from" which
place, near 60 miles distant, he had walked.
Prior to Hunter commencing his clearing,
Hugh Jordan, the brother of Benjamin, had
began to open out a farm which afterwards be
came the property of James Hamilton, a na
tive of Ireland, wha came to ClearGeld from
Chester county in 1830. About 1805, Joseph
Patterson of Penh's Valley, accompanied by
his son Robert, settled neai the Wm. A. Reed
farm. The old gentleman was quite handy
and turned his attention to the manufacture of
spinning wheels. Robert, who acted for some
years as a school teacher, raised several chil
dren, four of whom, Joseph, Robert, James,
and a daughter, the widow of Abraham nigh,
reside in Jordan . township. John Moore, a
relative of Patterson, came out about the same
time, and lived on an adjoining place until a
bout 1821, when he died. He has two sons
and two daughters still living in the county
Joseph and William, citizens of Ferguson
township, and Margaret the wife of Thomas
Henry, Esq., and Jane who was married to
Benj. Spackman. In 1810, Ignatius Thomp
son came to the Ridges. The place of his na
tivity was Ireland. He resided a few years in
Huntingdon county before moving here. In
flexible honesty, great suavity of manners,
and a heart overflowing with the kindest senti
ments for his fellows, made him a valuable and
welcome addition to the community. He has
ever been the friend of the poor and distress
ed, and has thus done much towards increasing
the prosperity of the settlement. His general
intelligence, industry and utbanity enabled
him to act as justice of the peace and fill sev
eral other.offices with credit. He has two
sons, John D. and James, living in Curwens
ville, and another, Josiab W., and a daughter,
on the homestead, enjoying with him the
fruits of his well spent lire. Moses Norris al
so came from Huntingdon county in the year
1810. He commenced on land now owned by
Amos Reed, which he made one of the finest
farm3 in that section. He had two sons and
three daughters, who are yet living in the
county. John Rowles, the ancestor of a nu
merous race, cast bis lot on the Ridges. His
descendants are noted as hunters, woodsmen,
and lumbermen. He formerly lived in Half
Moon. Handy to John Mooro's place, Daniel
Spackman, of Chester county, settled In 1821,
where he, at the advanced age of 83 years,
and his wife, also at a ripe old age, yet
live. He is a member of the Society of
Friends a kind-hearted, estimable, but unob-,
trusive roan. He raised a family of eleven
children, nine of whom are living. About
1830, John Mitchell, a native of Ireland, moved
on the land first cleared by Alex. Reed, and,
assisted by his boys, cleared out a large extent
ot Und. He had a large family eleven chil
dren tbreo of whom only are living : Robert,
Samuel, and Alleu.. Three years later, James
Dougherty and John Mcaijwghlin, came from
Delaware county and gave rise o.that part of
the settlement nqw. known as. lrishtop
J (TO BE COSTIXCrD.)
. NATURE STR0SQER THAJT AUTHORITY.
- v - i - 'AS INSTRUCTIVE STORT; ' '
" A good start 1 s. half the race, and a proper
occupation is the guarantee of success and
happiness. There are few. persons who have
not talent enough of some. sort to earn a re
spectable living, if it were properly directed.
Many a boy is set apart for a profession who has
' Kcitber wtt nor worthy ! - I .
Action nor utterance,nor the power of speech
. To stir men's blood :"'., . .
and the consequence is,' ho . is an' infliction on
the public, and he is asjt off to siarve and be
forgotten.-:6tir-theHnfortunate boy could
have' sbod itorses', ' attended machinery, or
built houses successfully, if he could not make
acceptable sermons or speeches ; or he could
have herded sheep or cattle,however ill quali
fied he -might have been to feed the
flock of God. Another is compelled to
pursue a mechanical trade whose tastes are
wholly literary and scientific. Close observa
tion gives parents the adrantage of knowing
to what business their children are best adapt
ed before they have wasted their best seed
time, or apprenticeship season of life, in find
ing out that they have mistaken their voca
tions, and must begin again with no better
success, or blunder on to the grave. The fol
lowing, which we copy from an exchange', will'
illustrate this subject :
Mr. Solomon Winthrop, a plain old farmer,
was an austere, precise man, who did every
thing by established rule, who could see no
reason why people should grasp at things be
yond what had been reached by their great
grandfathers. He had three children two
boys and a girl. There was Jeremiah, seven
teen years old, Samuel, fifteen, and Fanny,
thirteen.
It was a cold winter's day ; Samuel was in
the kitchen, leading a book; so interested
was he that he did not notice the entrance of
his father. Jeremiah was in the opposite
corner, engaged in cyphering out a sum which
be bad found in his arithmetic.
"Saru," said the father to his youngest son,
"have you worked cut that sura yet ?"
"No, sir' returned the boy, in a hesitating
tpne.
"Didn't I tell you to stick to your arithme
tic till you had done it?" uttered Mr. Win
throp, in a severe tone.
Samuel hung down his head, and looked
troubled.
"Why hav'nt you done it ?" continued the
father.
"I can't do it," tremblingly returned the
boy
"Can't do it ! And why not ? Look at
Jerry tbere,with his slate and arithmetic. He
had cyphered further than you long before be
was your age."
"Jerry was always fond of mathematical
problems, sir, but I cannot fasten my mind on
them. They have no interest to me."
''That's because you don't try to feel an in
terest in your studies. What book is that you
are reading ?"
"It Is a work on philosophy, sir."
"A work on fiddlestick ! Go, put it away
this instant, and then get your slate, and don't
let me see you away from your arithmetic
again until you can work out those roots- Do
you understand me ?"
Samuel made no reply, bnt silently he put
away his philosophy, and then ho got his slate
and sat down in the chimney corner. His
nether lip trembled, and his eyes moistened,
for he was unhappy. His father had been
harsh towards him, and he felt that it was
without cause.
"Sam," said Jerry, as soon as the old man
had gone, "I will do that sum for you."
"No, Jerry," returned the younger brother,
but with a grateful look j "that would be de
ceiving father. I will try to do the sum, tho'
I fear I shall not succeed."
Samuel worked very hard, but all to no pur
pose. ' His mind was not on the subject be
fore him. . The roots and -.squares, the bases,
bypothenuses, and perpendiculars, though
comparatively simple in themselves, were to
him a mingled mass -of incomprehensible
things, and tho more he'trjed the more did he
become perplexed and bothered.
The truth was, his father did not understand
him. -
Samuel was a bright boy, and uncommonly
intelligent lor one of his age. Mr. Winthrop
was a thorough mathematician he never yet
came across the problem he could not solve,
and he desired that his boys should be like
him, for he conceived that the acme of edu
cational perfection lay In the power of con
quering Euclid, and ho often expressed his
opinion that, were Euclid living then, he could
"give the old " geometrician a hard tussel."
lie seemed not to comprehend that different
minds were made with different capacities,
and what one mind grasped with ease, another
of equal power would fail to comprehend.
Hence, because Jeremiah progressed rapidly
with his mathematical studies, and could al
ready survey a piece of land of many angles,
he imagined.' that because Samuel made no
progress in the same branch he was idle and
careless, and treated bira accordingly. He
never candidly conversed with his younger
son, with a view to ascertain the true bent of
his mind, but he had his own standard of the
power of all minds, and he pertinaciously ad
hered to it.
There was another thing that Mr. Winthrop
could not see, and that was that t-'amuel" was
continually pondering upon such protiitable
matters as interested him, and that be was
scarcely ever idle ;nor did his father see,
either, that if he even wished his boy to be
come a mathematician, he was pursuing the
very course to prevent such a result. Instead
of endeavoring to make the study interesting
to the child, he was making it obnoxious.
- The dinner hour came, and Samuel had not
worked out the sum. His father was angry,
and oblidged the boy to go without his dinner,
at the same time telling him that ho was an
idle, lazy child.
Poor Samuel left the kitchen and went np
to his chamber, and there he sat and cried.
At length his mind seemed to pass from the
wrong he had suffered at the nana oi ma pa
rent, and took another torn, and the grief
narks left his face. There was a large uro iu
he room below his chamber, so tnat ne was
ot very cold; and getting up, he weni to a
mall closet, and from oeneam a ioi oi oiu
lothes he dragged lorm some long airjpa u
?.- nrl commenced whittling. It was not
nr mArnastime that ho whittled, for be was
fashioning some curious affair from those pie
ces of wood. He had bits of wire, little
scraps of tin plate, pieces of twine, and do
zens of small wheels taat.he hadmade himself, j
and he seemed to be working to get thefn to
gether after some peculiar fashion of his own.
Half the afternoon had thus passed away,
when his sister entered the chamber.. She
had her apron gathered upon her hand, and
after closing the door softly behind her, she
approached the spot where her brother" sat.
Here, Sammy see, I have brought you
something to eat. . 1 know you must be hungry-"
As she spoke, she opened her apron and
took out fonr cakes, and a piece of pie and
cheese. The boy was hungry, and he hesita
ted not to avail himself of his sister's kind
offer. lie kissed her as he took the cake and
thanked her.
"Oh.what a pretty thing that is you are ma
king I" uttered Fanny, as she gazed upon the
result of her brother's labors. "Won't you
give it to me after it is done V
"Not this one, sister," returned the boy
with a smile ; "but as soon as I get time I will
make you one equally as pretty." .
Fanny thanked her brother, and shortly af
terwards left the room, and the boy resumed
his work. e
At the end of a week, the various materials
that had been subjected to Sammy's jack
knife and pincers had assumed form and come
liness, and they were jointed and grooved to
gether in a curious combination.
The embryo philosopher set the machine
for it looked much like a machine upon the
floor, and then stood off and gazed upon it.
nis eyes gleamed with a peculiar glow of sat'
isfaction, and he' looked- proud and happy.
While he yet stood and gazed' upon the child
of his labors, the door of the chamber opened
and his father entered. ' ' ...' .
"What ! are you hot studying ? ; exclaim
ed Mr. Winthrop,as be noticed the boy stand
ing in the middle of the floor.';;
Samuel trembled when he heard his father's
voice, and he turned pale with fear.'. ' .: ,
"Ha ! What is this 1" said Mr." Winthrop, as
he caught sight of the -carious construction
on the floor. "This is the secret of " your
idleness. Now I see how it is that you can
not master your studies. You spend your
time in making playhouses and fly pens. I'll
see whether you'll attend to your lessons or
not. There!"
As the father uttered that common injunc
tion, he placed bis foot cpon tho object of bis
displeasure. The boy uttered a quick cry,and
sprung forward, but too late, the curious con
struction was crushed to atoms the labor of
long weeks was gone. The lad gazed for a
moment upon the mass of ruins, and then,
covering his face with his hands, be burst into
tears. - .
"Ain't you ashamed V said Mr. Winthrop ;
"a great boy like you to spend your time on
such claptraps, and then cry about it because
I choose that you should attend to your stu
dies. Now go out to the barn and help Jerry
shell corn."
"The boy was too full of grief to make any
explanations, and without a word be left bis
chamber; but for long days afterwards he was
sad and down hearted.
"Samuel," said Mr. Winthrop, one day af
ter the spring had opened, "I havo seen Mr.
Young, and he is willing to take you as an
apprentice. Jerry and I can get along on tho
farm, and I think the best thing you can do is
to learn the blacksmith's trade. I have given
up all hope of ever making a surveyor out of
yon, and it you had a farm you would not
know how to measure it or lay it out. Jerry
will now soon be able to take my place as a
surveyor, and I have already made arrange
ments for having him sworn, and obtaining
his commission. But your trade is a good one,
however, and I have no doubt you will bo able
to make a living at it."
Mr. 3foung was a blacksmith in a neighbor
ing town, and he carried on quite an extensive
business, and, moreover.ho had the reputation
of leing a fine man. Samuel was delighted
with his father's proposal, and when he learn
ed that Mr. Young also carried on a large ma
chine shop, he was in ecstasies. His trunk
was packed a good supply of clothes having
been provided, and after kissing his mother
and sister, and shaking hands with father and
brother, he mounted tho stage atd set off for
his new destination.
He found Mr. Young all he could wish, anil
went into his business with an assiduity that
surprised his master. One evening, after
Samuel Winthrop had been with his new mas
ter six months, the latter came into the shop
after all the journeymen had quit work and
gone home, and found the youth busily engag
ed in filing a piece of iron. There was quite
a number of pieces lying on the bench by his
side, and some of them were curiously rivet
ted together and fixed with springs and slides,
while others appeared not yet ready for their
destined use. Mr. Young ascertained what
the young workman was up to, and he not
only encouraged him in his undertaking, but
he stood for half an hour and watched him at
his-work. Next day Samuel Winthrop was
removed from the blacksmith's shop to the
machine shop.
Samuel olten visited his parents. At the
end of two years his father was not a little
surprised when Mr. Young informed him that
Samuel was the most useful band in his em
ploy. Time flew fast. Samuel was twenty
one. Jeremiah had been free almost two
years, and he was one of the most accurate
and trustworthy surveyors in the county. ,
Mr. Winthrop looked upon his eldest son
with pride, and often expressed a wish that
bis other son could have been like him. Sam'
uel had come home to visit his parents, and
Mr. Young had come with him. '
"Mr. Young," said Mr. Winthrop, after the
tea-things had been cleared away, "that is a
fine factory they have erected in your town."
. "Yes," replied Mr. Young; "there are three
of them, and they are doing a heavy business."
. "I understand tbey have an extensive ma
chide shop connected with the factories.
Now, if my boy Sam is as good a workman as
yon say he is,perhaps he might get a first rate
situation there." - "
Mr. Young looked at Samuel, andmiled. -
"By the way," continued the old farmer,
"what is all this noise I bear and see in the
newspapers about these patent Winthrop
looms ? They tell me they go ahead of any
thing that ever was got np before."
" Yon must ask your"son about that," re
turned Mr. Young. "That's some of Samuera
business.": ,'
Eh7 What ? My son ? Some of Sam"
Tho old man stopped short, and gazed at
his son. He was bewildered.. It could not
be that his son his idle son wa the inven
tor of the great' power loom thab had taken
all the manuiactorera by surprise. . ;
"What do you mean V ho at length asked.
"It is simply this, father, that this loom is
mine," returned Samuel, with a look of con
scious pride. "I have invented it, and have
taken a patent right, and have lately been of
fered ten thousand dollars for the patent right
in two adjoining States. Don't you remem
ber that claptrap you crushed with your foot
six years ago ?"
"Yes," answered the old man, whose eyes
were bent on the floor, and over whose mind a
new light seemed to be breaking. , .
"Well," continued Samuel, "that was al
most a pattern of the very loom I have set up
in the factories, though of course I have made
alterations and improvements, and there is
room for improvement yet."
And that was what you were studying when
yon used to fumble about my loom so much,"
said Mrs. Winthrop.
"You are right, mother. Even then I bad
conceived the idea I have since carried out."
"And that is why you could not understand
my mathematical problems," uttered Mr. Win
throp, as he started from his chair, and took
the youth by the hand.
"Samuel, my son, forgive me for the harsh
ness I have used towards you ; I have been
blind, and now I see how I misunderstood yon.
While I thought you idle and careless, you
were solving a philosophical problem that I
could never have comprehended. Forgive
me, Samuel, I meant well enough, but lacked
judgment and discrimination."
, Of course the old man bad long before been
forgiven of his harshness, and his mind was
open to a new lesson in human nature. It
was simply this:
Different minds have different capacities;
man's mind cannot be driven to love that for
whicli it has no taste. First, seek to under
stand the natural abilities and dispositions of
children, and then in your management of
their education for after life, govern yourself
accordingly. George Combe, the greatest
moral philosopher of his day, could hardly
reckon in simple addition, and Colourn, the
arithmetician, could not write out a com
monplace address. Mozart was a genius in
music, and perhaps could have become a good
wearer; but the music of the loom ..would
have been more pleasant to the ear of Cart
wright than to his, and more profitable to the
world. .
, HORRIBLE AFFAIR.
A correspondent of the St. Louis Democrat,
writing from Marshall, Saline county, Missou
ri, under date of July 20th, gives the follow
ing account of the burning ot one negro at the
stake and the hanging of two others :
"Some time ago, you will reeollect, a negro
murdered a gentleman named Hinton, near
Waverly in this county. He was caught after
a long search, and put in jail, x esterday he
was -tried at this place and cotrvicted of the
crime, and sentenced to be hung. While the
Sheriff was conveying him to prison he was
set upon by the crowd, and taken from that
officer. The mob then proceeded to the jail
and took from thence two other negroes. One
of them had attempted the life of a citizen of
this place, and tho other had just committed
an outrage upon a young white girl. After
the mob got the negroes together, they pro
ceeded to the outskirts of the town, and se
lecting a proper place, chained the negro who
killed Hinton, to a stake, got a quantity of dry
wood, piled it around him, and set it on fire !
Then commenced a scene, which, for its sick
ening horrors, has never been witnessed be
fore in this, or perhaps any other place.
Tho negro was stripped to his waist, and
barefooted. He looked the picture of despair
but there was no sympathy felt for him at
the moment. Presently the fire began to surge
up in flames around him, and its effects were
soon made visible in the futile attempts of the
poor wretch to move his feet. As the flames
gathered about his limbs and bedy ho com
menced the most frantic shrieks and appeals
for mercy for death for water ! He seized
his chains they were hot and burnt the flesh
off his hands. He would drop them and catch
at them again and again. Then he would re
peat his cries ; but all to no purpose. In a
few moments he was a charred mass-bones and
flesh alike burnt, into powder. Many, very
many of the spectators, who did not realize
tho full horrors of the scene, until It was too
late to change it, retired disgusted and sick
at the sight. May Marshall never wit
ness such another spectacle. The ends of jus
tice are surely as fully accomplished by the
ordinary process of law as by the violence of
an excited populace. If the horrors of the
day had ended here, it would have been well,
but the other negroes were taken and hung
justly, perhaps but in violation of law and
good order. They exhibited no remorse. One
of them simply remarked, "that he hoped be
fore they hung him they would let him see
the other boy burnt!'
'. Tho outrage fperperrated by the negro was
upon the daughter of a highly respectable far
mer named Lamb, Itving near Marshall. : It
appears that a number of children bad gone to
gather blackberries . not far from the town,
where the negro, who belonged to one of the
neighboring farmers, was at work in the field.
According to the statement of the chileren,the
first they saw of him was when he rushed in
among them perfectly naked, and seized the
eldest of them, about thirteen years of age,
the daughter of Mr. Lamb. Tho others were
frightened and ran away, while the negro drag
ged his victim into a thicket and committed
the fiendish act. While he was dragging her
along, she told him she would tell his master
and her father upon him. Ho replied he was
a runaway and had no master. In the mean
time her little brother, who was one of the
party, hastened into the town and told his pa
rents the story. A party of men immediately
started for the spot as directed, and found the
girl in convulsions. After bathing her she re
covered sufficiently -to tell the occurrence.
They then went in pursuit of the negro, and
from her description ot him, found him at
work in the field. He was immediately arres
ted, taken before a justice, and confronted
with the girl, who had been conveyed to the
magistrate's office. She recognized him im
mediately. He was put in jail, but the people
took him, with the others, and hung him as I
have stated. Mr. and Mrs. Lamb, it is stated,
are almost insane about the matter. The girl,
although much injured, will recover. There
must have been upwards of one thousand peo
ple present, alt bough many returned before
the affair was over.
Paradoxical as it may seem,', be who reels
and staggers most in the journey of life, takes
tho fitraigHtest cut to the devil. - ; -
Hfi PEACE IN EUROPE. r .
That by the war now ended Nepoleon III.
has considerably augmented his own prestige
and influence in Europe it is impossible to de
ny : though how much cannot yet bo clearly
estimated. But that the independence and
freedom of Italy have gained anything no sane,
person can suppose. The Emperor of Austria
has, indeed, lost two millions and three-quarters
out of his five millions of Italian subjects ;
but with Venetia be retains the four fortresses
6f Mantua, Verona, Peschiera and Legnago ,
a position whose strength Napoleon IIIf has
not thought best to prove ; and these fortress
ses, and the army he has behind them, must
always render him the most formidable of Ital
ian potentates. The territory and people which,
Austria has lost Sardinia has gained ; bnt at
what cost it is easy to perceive. She has gain
ed it at the cost of becoming a satrapy of tbo
French Emperor instead of an independent
constitutional State. The freedom of Parlia
mentary discussion and the liberty of the press,
which of late years have secured to that coun
try an honorable distinction in Continental En
rope, must now give way for such modes of
"preserving order" and "regulating the polit-.'
ical passions" of the people as Louis Napoleon
may deem most convenient. In a word, while
Italy passes under French instead of Austrian
domination, Lombardy will remain subject to
despotic system as before, and the liberties of.
Sardinia will be substantially suppressed. In
deed, the Independence of Sardinia seems to
have been entirely overlooked in tho peace ne
gotiations, of which, apparently, the govern
ment of Victor Emanuel knew nothing till
they were concluded. Such is the Imperial
French emancipation of Italy ! As for , the
new Confederation, with the Pope at its head,
it is hardly worth while to discuss it nntil wo
have more precise information concerning its
constitution. As yet we do not know wheth
er the Pope or the King of Naples will wish
to join it ; nor does it appear what disposition
is to be made of Tuscany, Modena and Parma,
all of which have recently sent off their soTef-,
eigns and put themselves under Sardinian, or
rather under Napoleonic protection. Bnt,
judging from the success of Pius IX. in hia
own dominions, it does not seem probable that
any confederation with him as its chief will
succeed in bringing about the political regen- .
eration of Italy. However, let us hope to live
and learn on that subject as on others. tt .
One cf the London journals has remarked
that this peace is full of future wars ; , and that
we think is true. A genuine settlement of It
aly, which would put an end to all foreign con-,
trol, and leave the people or all its province?
to choose their own mode of government, and.
their own officials, would no doubt condqee to
the permanent peace of Europe ; but nothing",
could be more unlike such a settlement than,
the one now agreed on. But peace is not whV
Napoleon III. aims at. He has various ol(f ;
scores to settle. Russia and Austria he has,
already humiliated ; but with Germany , and!
England the books of his family still show a,,
large balance on the wrong side. When op.,
how this balance is to be wiped off, it were.
useless to conjecture ; but Napoleon III. has
now lost the power of surprising the world,
and he can make war on whomsoever be plea
ses, without exciting the public astonishment.
Of all the wars in his powerr we suppose that
none could be so popular in France as a war
with England. Out of SC,000,000 of French
men, 35,900,000, to use a moderate figure,
would rejoice at the prospect of seeing their
conquering armies in London. This may or
may not be the next act in the, great drama,
on one of whose scenes the curtain has just
fallen in Italy ; but the drama itself must go
on. The era of purely selfish war of war for
power and glory, having been . reopened, it
must be completed through all its phases. We
can only hope that Humanity may not be alto
gether a loser from the dreadful and revolting
process. X. Y. Tribune.
The Commercial Jonrnal take's a different
view of the Treaty of Peace. Venice, it says,
is as much a part of Italy as Lombardy i3j and
it is further the stronghold of Austria en Ita
ly, for there are her fortified places. The ces
sion of Venice to Francis Joseph is not un
qualified. It does not become a part of his
empire, and he is only King, not Emperor of
Venice. She 13 to be a member of the con
federacy of Italy, and Francis Joseph is-to
have only a voice in the council with other I
talian rulers or princes. The Italian States
are to be formed into a confederacy "under
the Pope as honorary President," with "the
States of the Chnrch" included. This anom
alous position, the Journal regards as a com
promise, and that France has by it destroyed
the absolutism of the Pope that the suprem
acy of his temporal power is practically bro't
to an end, and that this may be regarded as
the sure forerunner of civil freedom through
out Italy..
At Brandon, Mississippi, on the 10th July,
a Mrs. Jackson had occasion during tho night
to go to the window, and while arranging ther
blind, her husband awoke and, supposing that
a burglar was in the roon), seized a gun, and
as she advanced towards the bed without
speaking, he having told her to stop, shot her
dead. He then turned te tellhjajwife that he
had killed some one, when, .not finding ber,
the awful truth that his wife was the victim
for the first flashed tipon himi;
On the 21st July, a young, woman named
Virginia Stewart, who until lately had resided
in Mobile as the mistress of a cotton-broker,
named Robert C. McDonald' was shot by her
paramour, whom she had.left, in the streets
of New York, whither, heifcad followed ber.
He had for three weeks been drinking to ex
cess, and accidentally meeting her, he drew a
pistol and shot her, the: ball taking effect in
the forehead above the left eye, and Is said to
be mortal. McDonald was arrested. ;
According to the "Asiatic. Re
yery curious mode of trying the title to bind
9 fratuseu iu liinaostan. , Two holes are due
in the disputed SDot. in each nr.hi.k r
yers on either side pnt one of their legs, and
.v.u uum oneoi tnem Is tired, or
complains of being atnig by the-, insects, in
wnicn case his client is defeated.- In this
country it is generally the client, and not tho
lawyer, "who puts his foot in." ' - .
' "Who is that invalv tnl 1,1-,La v
witty Lord Norbury, in company with 'hia
inena, -counsellor Grant. "Miss Glass, re
plied the Counsellor. "I should " often be? in
toxicated could I ptec auclx.a Glast to my
lips," was tiro reply.
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