The mountain sentinel. (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, June 07, 1849, Image 1

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Tearless aiid Faithful
Labor fearless, labor faithful '
Labor while the clay shall last,
For the shadows of the evening:
Soon the sky will overcast?
Ere shall end the Jay of labor,
Ere shall rest thy manhood's sun;
Strive with everypower within thee,
That the appointed task be done.
Life is not the trackless shadow,
Nor the wave upon the beach,
Though our days are brief, yet lasting
Is the stamp we give, to eacli.
"Life is real, life is earnest,"
Full of labor, full of thought;
Every hour and every moment
1$ with living vigor fraught.
Fearless wage life's earnest conflict.
Faithful to thy highest tiust,
If thou'It have a memory cherished,
And a path bright as the just.
Labor fearless, labor faithful.
Labor until set of sun,
And the welcome shall await thee,
Promised plaudit of "Well done!"
From the L.ady'8 National Magazine.
A better woman than Mrs. Sunderland
does not exist anywhere, though I do say
it myself, I consider her one of the 'salt of
the earth,' and I think I ought to know.
Still Mrs. Sunderland has her faults -no,
I will not call them by so hard a name
still Mrs. Sunderland has her weaknesses,
and one of these is to think well of every
body. On this head I believe no one can
accuse me of weakness. I am not aware,
that as a general thing, I think any better
of people than I ought to think. No I
am not blind to anybody's faults, though I
can see and appreciate excellencies as
11 IT...
j-f well as any one. uui 10 my tsiury.
I After we had risen a little in the worla,
'.Tid could ancru not onty to live in our
own house, but to enjoy our share of the
excellencies and luxuries of this life, we
found ourselves surrounded by a good
many who before, were not over liberal
in their attentions. Mrs Sunderland be
lieved their friendship sincere; but I re
served to myself the right to doubt the
genuineness of some of the professions
that were made. I didn't like the 'my
dear Mrs. Sunderland' nor the particular
solicitude which expressed by not a few in
anything that concerned my wife's wel-
lare; and when she talked about iUrs. Jones
being such a kind, good soul, and Miss
Peters being so disinterested in everything,
I shrugged my shoulders and reserved the
privilege of a doubt in regard to all being
gold that glittered.
Not having been raised in fashionable
life, we had no taste for display, and, al
though we had our v share of company,
whether we cared about it or not, we had
never ventured so far to sea as to give a
pat ty, although we had accepted -gcvcral
invitations to assemblages ifhiiT kind.
Hut some of Mrs. &TndeTandV good
friends and acqualntifricrs insisted upon it,
. last wunieVferu?vmust give an enter
.la'HtLnd , tRcy used such cogent argu
'meft&lnSlic) good soul! was won over.
I remained for a long time incorrigible;
but as nothing " could put it out of Mrs.
Sunderland's head that it was due her po
sition and relations to give a party, I with
much reluctance withdrew my opposition
and forthwith the note of preparation was
sounded. ' : ; '
'Who shall Ave invite?' was the first
question. "
Our circle, of acquaintance had been
considerably enlarged within erHrcc
years, and when we went over -the list it
was found to be. rather large. "
'You will have, to cut it dowji cousider
zhly ,' said I. .
To do so without giving offence will be
difficult,' replied my wife. "'"'
'Better . cut all off. then, . was on my
tongue, but I repressed the words, feeling
that it would be unkind to throw cold wa
ter upon the affair at this1 stage of its pro
gress. '" " : 1 7 j, - ,
'You havn't got Fanny and Ellen on
your list,' I remarked after a good number
of erasures had been made. They were
two of my .nieces;, good girls , but poor.
Both were' dress-maker's apprentices,
-They Averc learning a trade in order to re
lieve their father, an industrious, but not a
very thnfty man, from the burthen of their
support.1 1 hked them very much for
theirgood sense, agreeable mnnnersand
strong flfiecttonfor their parents: '
'Shall Aye'J invite I them?' inquired my
wife. . "' ' ' !
Certainly!1 I replied. , 'Why not?'
'Will they be able to make a good ap
pearance? ; Youv know "that a number of
fashionable people. will bo here.' ' !; :
'If you doubt it, we will send them each
a handsome dress pattern with the invi-
'Perhaps we had better do so,' was
Mrs- Sunderland's approving remark, and
the thing was done as I had suggested.
The pruning down of the invitation list
was no easy matter, and it was not without
many fears of giving offence i mY wife
at last fixed upon th precise number of
persons wt --were to honor us with their
The exact character of the entertain
ment was next to be considered, and an
estimate cost made. Several ladies, au
fait in such matters were consulted; and
their opinions compared, digested and
adopted or rejected as they agreed with, or
differed from what we thought right.
'It will cost at least a hundred dollars,'
said Mrs. Sunderland after we had come
to some understanding as to what wre wrould
have. The sum seemed large in her
'If we get off with two hundred we
may be thankful,' I replied.
'Oh no. It can't go above a hundred
'We shall see.'
'If I thought it would sost so much,, I
would '
'There is no retreat now Mrs. Sunder
land. We have taken the step initiative,
and have nothing to do but go through
with the matter as best we can. My
word for it we shall not be very eager to
give another party.'
This threw a damper on my wdfe's feel
ings that I was sorry to perceive, for now
that the partymust be given, I wanted to
see it done in as good a spirit as possible.
From that time therefore, I was careful
not to say anything likely to awaken a
doubt as to the satisfactory result of the
coming entertainment.
The evening came in due time, and we
had all things ready. 1 must own that I
felt a little excited, for the giving of a fash
ionable party was something new in the
history of my life, and I did not feel alto
gether at home in the matter. Unaccus
tomed to the entertainment of company,
especially where ceremony and the obser
vance of a certain etiquette were involved,
I was conscious of an awkward feeling,
and would have given double the cost of
the party for the privilege of an escape
from the trials and mortitications it prom
ised to involve.
In order to give additional beauty and
attractiveness to our parlors, we had pur
chased sundry articles of ornamental furni
ture, which, cost over a hundred dollars,
and which were of no manner of use ex
cept to look at.
It was so late before the elite of our
company began to arrive, that we were in
some doubt whether they were going to
come at all. But toward nine o'clock they
came along, and by ten we were in full
tide of successful experiment. My nie
ces, Fanny and Ellen, were among the
first to appear, and they looked pretty and
interesting.,;-, -Jt)
AsiSjoau; 4l.fistjcnbarrajieutcort-.
"sequent oil the,-' appearance -,.of! ' the -extra
fashionables had worn off, and I felt at
home once more in my own house, I be
gan to look around me with an observant
eye. . About the first thing that attracted
my attention was the sober aspect of a
certain lady, whose husband by a few for
tunate adventures, had , acquired some
money and lifted her into 'good society,'
as it is called. She was talking to another
lady, and I saw that their eyes were di
rected towards my nieces of whom I felt
a little proud; they looked and behaved so
well. .. .' .
'What's all this about?' said I to myself.
And I kept my eyes upon the ladies as in
tently as they did upon Ellen and Fanny
Presently I saw one of them toss her head
with an air of dignified contempt, and ri
sing upniade her way across the rooirTto
where her husband stood. She spoke to
him in evident excitement, and directed
his attention to my nieces. The sight of
them did not seem to produce any unplea
sant effect upon him; for he merely shrug
ged his shoulders, smiled, and answered
in a few words that I could see were in
different. But his wife was in earnest;
and placing her arm within his drew him
towards the dowr. lie remonstrated, but
she -was not in a humor to listen to any
thing, and with surprise I saw them re
tire from the parlors. My first impulse
was to follow them, but the truth flashing
across my mind, 1 felt indignant at such
conduct,, and resolved to let them do as
they pleased. In a little - while the offen
ded lady bone ted and cloaked and boned,
came sweeping past the parlor doors, with
ner husband in Jier trainttracting the at
tention of a third part of the company.. A
moment and she had passed into the street.
'Who is that? What is the matter?'
went, whispering about the rooms.. ." f
It is Mrs. L .'
" Mrs. Ii :ls she sick?'
-'Why has she gone?' s
But no one seemed at first ' to know.
Soon however the lady to wfibm she had
communicated the fact that had insul
ted our company by inviting' 'mantua-ma-ker
girls,' whispered to another the secret,
and away it went buzin through the
rooms finding its way as veil to the' ears
of Fanny and Ellen as to those of the rest
of the company. About one-half of the
ladies present did. not exactly "seem-
know 'whether' mey " ought to follow the
example of Mrs. L. or not; and there was
a portentous movement, when almost the
waving of a finger would have caused our
party to break up in disorder.
The moment my nieces understood the
feeling that had prompted the lady to
withdraw indignantly, they arose and
were retiring from the room, when I in
tercepted them and detained them with as
lituVceremony'as possible. They begged )
hard to be permitted to retire, but 1 said no
for my 'blood was up,' as the saying is.
Ellen and Fanny are worth as many
Mrs. L's.' said I to myself, 'as you can
find fiom here to Jerico.'
The disaffected ones noticed, I suppose
my decision in the matter, and thought it
prudent not to break with Mr. and "Mrs.
Sunderland, who could afford to be inde
pendent. Money is a great thing! Humph!
There was a time in our history but no
matter. We are people of character and
standing now!
We had rather a dull time after the
withdrawal of Mrs. L. For a while the
spirits of the company rallied, under the
effects of wine and a good supper, but they
soon flagged again, and a sober cast of
thought settled upon almost every coun
tenances. Mv poor wife found it imnoss-
ible to retain a cheerful exterior: and my '
nieces looked as if almost any other place
in the world would have been a paradise
in comparison.
At least an hour earlier than we had an
ticipated, our rooms were deserted, and
we left alone with our thoughts, which
upon the whole wTere not very agreeable.
Mrs. Sunderland the moment the last guest
had retired, went back into the brilliantly
lighted parlors, and setting down upon a
sofa burst into tears. She had promised
herself much pleasure, Dut alas! how bit
terly had she been disappointed! I was
excited and indignant enough to say al
most anylhing, and a dozen times as I
paced the room backwards and forwards,
did I check myself from uttering words
that would only have made poor Mrs.
Sunderland feel ten times worse the she
'The nexi time we give a party '
'We won't!' said 1, taking the words
out of my wife's mouth. She was recov
ering from her state of mortification and
beginning to feel indignant.
'You've said it exactly,' responded Mrs.
Sunderland. 'I call this throwing away
a couple of hundred dollars in a very bad
So it strikes me. When fifty or sixty
people eat an elegant supper and drink
costly wine at my expense again, thev
jwijl elKi-e;the,nif elye jbett9F.l.han -spmei
ot our hivh bred ladies did to-niht. As
for Mrs. L. Fanny and Ellen arc worth a
hundred of her. It's my opinion if she
knew evervthinfr she would curtail her
dignity a little. If I'm not mistaken her
husband will go to the wall before a twelve
month passes.' . ',.''
On the next day we settled all accounts
with confectioner, wine merchant, china
dealers and waiters. The bills were over
a hundred and fifty dollars, exclusive of a
hundred dollars paid, as before Jntiinated,
for parlor ornaments to grace the occasion.
" 'So much paid for worldly Wisdom;'
said I; after all was over. 'I "don't think
we need to give another party.'
Mrs. Sunderland sighed and shook her
head. Poor soul! ller kind and gener
ous nature was hurt. She had looked
upon a new phrase of charaetcT.andthe
discovery had wounded her deeply, "7""
A few months after this unfortunate
party, from which so little pleasure and
so much pain had sprung, I said to my
wns uii c-ouiing nomeone day
It's as I expected. Pride mi
Pride must have a
: 'Why do you say that? What
happened? inquired Mrs. Sunderland
L has failed as. I predicted, and
his lady wife who turned up her aristo
cratic nose at our excellent nieces is likely
to see the day when she will stand far be
low, them in society.',.
I spoke in an exultant voice. But my
wife instantly reproved my levity. She
cherished no animosities, and" had Ion"
since forgiven the offence. &
So much for Mv Wife's Party!
LFA; jolly husband not " a thousand
miles from Bangor, who had been on a
'bit of a spree,' was saluted by hi3 better
half on his return, with 'Oh, you hard
hearted wretch!' The husband meekly
replied that he didn't think his heart could
be. very hard, for he'd been soakingit, for
the last forty -eight hoius!. - ?
The annals of modern warfare do not
furnish the recital of a more gallant action
than that fought at Fay al, Western Islands,
in 114, between a British gun brig and
thejboats ojf .British sauadron on the one
side, and on the other the little private
armed American brig General Armstrong,
of seven guns and ninety men, command
ed bv Capt. Samuel C. Keid, out of the
port of New York.
The terrible engagement of Paul Jones
with a British cruiser, is scarcely a parallel
to it, ind few naval battles, even by large
fleets, exhibit so great a slaughter. A
British resident of Fayal, who was witness
to the action, in a letter to the celebrated
Cobbett, under date of October 15, 181 1,
thus describes the bold defence and noble
conduct of the daring American privateers
man: "The American private brig Gen. Arm
strong, of seven guns and ninety men, en
tered here on the 26th ult., about noon, 16
days from that place, for the purpose of
obtaining water. The captain, seeing
nothing on the horizon, was induced to
anchor. Before the lapse of many hours,
his majesty's brig Carnation came in and
anchored near her.
About six his majesty's ship Plantagcn
et, of 74 guns, and the Rota frigate came
in and anchored also. The captain of the
privateer and his friends consulted the first
authorities here about her security. They
all considered her perfectly secure, and
that his majesty's officers were too well
acquainted with the respect due a neutral
port to molest her. But to the great sur
prise of every one, about nine iu the even
ing, four boats were despatched, armed
and manned, from his majesty's ships, for
the purpose of cutting her out. It being
about the full of the moon, "the night per
fectly clear and calm, we could see every
movement made. The boat approached
with rapidity towards her, when it appears,
the captain of the privateer hailed them
and told them to keep of several times.
They notwithstanding pushed on, and
were in the act of boarding before any de
fence was made from the privateer. A
w arm contest ensued on both sides. The
boats were finally . dispersed with great
loss. .
The American now calculating on a '
very superior force being sent; cut his ca
bles and rowed the privateer close in a-
long side of the fort, within half cables
length, where he moored her, head and
stern, with four lines.
The governor now sent a remonstrance
to Capt. Lloyd, of the Plantagenet, against
such proceedings, and trusted that the pri
vateer would not be further molested; she
being in the dominions of Portugal, and
under the guns of the castle, was entitled
to Portuguese protection.
Captain Lloyd's answer was, that he
was determined to destroy the vessel, at'
expense of all layal, and should any
protection uer given her by the tort, he
would not leave 'a house standing in the
village. All the ihh&bit,nts were gathered
about the" walls, expectirig-tt renewal of the
attack. At about midnight fourteen laun
ches were discovered to be c5miriiin ro
tatiou for the purpose. : . ...
When they got within clear gunshot, a'
trcmenduous and effectual discharge was
made from the privateer, which threw the
boats into confusion. They now returned
the fire; but the privateer kept up so con
tinual a discharge, it was almost impossi
ble for the boats to make any progress
They finally succeeded, after immense
loss, in getting along side of her, and at
tempted to board at every quarter, cheered
by the officers with a shout of 'No quar
ters!' which we could distinctly hear, as
well as their shrieks and cries. The ter-
niinatiori was near about a total massacre.
'i'kp6 f the boats were sunk, and but
one poor solitary officer escaped death, in
a boat thatcXntained fifty souls; he was
wounded. Tlie Americans fought with
great firmness; .someV of lIie uoats werc
left without a single mato ro w tnem m"
ers with three or four; tnJ11081 mat all'
one returned with was abouVen? several
boats floated on shore full of bodies.
With great reluctance I stated12111 lne"
were manned with picked men, :Uld com"
manded by the first, second, itl'0' an(i
fourth lieutenants of the Plantageet;
second, third, and fourth do. of fie frigate;
and the first officers of the brisi together
widi ajgreat number of midsbipoAi1' ur
whole, force exceeded four hundred men;
but three officers escaped. tvv? f whom
are wounded. , This bloody andrrtu
nate contest lasted about forty minui-
After the boats gave, out, nothing mo"relj
was attempted till daylight next morning !
when die Carnation hauled alongside and j
engaged her. The privateer still contin- j
ucd to make a most gallant defence.
These veterans reminded me of Law rente's
dying word of the Chesapeake, 'Don't1
give up the ship!' The Carnation lost
one of her topmasts, and her yards were
shot away; she was much cut up in the
rigging, and received several shots in her
hull. This obliged her to haul off to re
pair, and to cease her firing.
The Americans now finding their prin
cipal gun (Long Tom) and several other
dismounted, deemed it folly, to think of
saving her against so superior a force;
they therefore cut away her masts to the
deck, blew a whole threw her bottom, took
out their small arms, clothing, &c, and
went on shore, I discovered only shot
holes in the hull of the privateer, though
much cut up in the riging.
Two boat' crews were afterwards des
patched from our vessels, which went on
board, took out some provisions, and set
her on fire.
For three days after wo were employed
in burying the dead that y-abed on shore
in the surf. The number ofjiritish killed
exceeds 120, and 50 wounded. The ene
my, (the Americans) to the surprise of
mankind, lost only two killed and seven
Avounded. We may well say 4God de
liver us from our enemies,' if this is the
way the Americans light.
After burning the privateer, Capt. Lloyd
made a demand of the governor to deliver
up the Americans as prisoners which
was refused. He threatened to send 500
men on shore, and take them by force.
The Americans immediately retired with
their arms to an old Gothic Convent,
knocked away the adjoining drawbridge,
and determined to defend themselves to
the last. The captain, however, thought
better than to send his men. He then de
manded two men, which he said deserted
from his vessel when in America. The
governor sent for his men, but found none
of the description given.
Many houses received much injury, on
shore, from the guns of the Carnation. A
woman sitting in the fourth story of her
house had her thigh shot off; and a boy
had his arm broken. The American Con
sul here has made a demand on the Portu
guese government for a hundred thousand
dollars, for the privateer; which our Con
sul, Mr. Parkin, thinks, in justice, will be
paid, and that they will claim on England.
Mr. Parkin, Mr. Edward Bayley, and oth
er English Gentlemen, disapprove of the
outrage and depredation committed by our
vessels on this occasion. The vessel (a
ship-of-war) that was despatched to Eng
land with the wounded, was not permitted
to take a single letter from any person.
Bein a witness to tins transaction, I have
given you a correct statement as it occur
red." Women of the Oldca Times. w
An eloquent writer in the Ladies Jl'cs
tern Magazine, hits of the false sentiment
of modern "society in relation
to the gen-
tier sex, and,
things, says:
among many other j;ood
. "The same qualities that blessed the
rude mountain homes of the olden time,
when women made their simple toilet by
the mirroring waters, must make them
blessed now. The qualites that could
make a home anywhere, even in the hov
el that stars shone through at night the
heart that infused a soul into the 'for bet
ter and for worse' of the ceremonial the
rare, jewels of virtue and contentment that
adorn . her every day like a bride the
willing jSacritice of a thousand present
pleasures to the common good the bright
intelligence that can interest, if it cannot
guide the gentleness that can soothe, if
it cannot shaae the, sympathy that sup
ports while it seems' itself . to cling. She
who possesses these, must possess loveli
ness and grace that will survive the bur
nished trees, the rounded form, and the
cloudless eyes of youth. Let hie accom
plishments of the boarding-school and
parlor have place, but not the ilace.
The fashionable 'crush', of the assembly,
the blaze of the soiree, the splendor of the
levee, have much to do with the coloring
of life litde with its warp or woof.
That may fade, this, will wear on. In a
fabric so rich and rare as life's in select
ing an array that we must live in, love in,
perchance suffer in, and that will assured
ly be drawn around us, when at last we
lie down, to pleasant dreams,' how oppo
site the question, 'are the colors fast
Thus was it that the minds and hearts of
the wives and mothers of other days were
moulded hearts that dillated to the fullest
pulsation of our better nature minds that
left their noble impress upon those who
should do and suffer m the field fight of
life. Old-fashioned mothers have nearly
airpassedavvay with the r bhrecheekramt
homespun woolen of a simpler but purer
Mime. Here and there one remains truly
Implished' in heart and life for die
phere'T oine Old-fashioned mothers!
rV ir?iC V them! who followed us with
UOd Dies. ... ,:vrrt
heart and n , V , , - .r.
nd p
our .grief;
in our lives
who knew
ore atro.m prenc
hinjr ihm
VOL. 5. NJ. 35.
poetry; spoke no dialect In that of love;
never preached or wandere; made melo
dy with their hearts,' alone;nd sent forth
no books but living volumesftat honored
their authors and blessed thevorld."
An Excuse for Smokij.
In the reign of James the I of tobacco
hating notoriety, the boys of school ac
quire the habit of smoking, aj indulged
it night and day, using the mo. ingenious
expcdicnt?Ho coneeal the viccfrom their
m ister; till one luckless evening when the
imps were huddled together roud the fire
of their dormitory, involving ech other
in vapor of their own creation, lj in burst
the master in awful dignity beforeihem.
How now,' quoth, the domhe to the
first lad; How dare you besmoktobac-
Sir,' said the boy, 'I'm subject S head
aches, and a pipe takes off the pai,
'And you? and you? and you J' iquircd
the pedagogue, questioning every oy in
his turn.
One had a 'raging tooth;' another.chol
ic; the third, a cough; in short, the all
had something.
'Now sirrah,' bellowed the door to
the last boy, 'what disorder do you saokc
Alas', all the excuses were exhauded;
but the interrogated urchin, putting davH
his pipe, after a farewell whiff, and lok
ing up to his master's face, said, ii a
whining hypocritical tone, 67r, snukr
for corner
The Verdant Groomsman
On no occasion, sa; s the Springfield lit
publican, do the people seem more pron:
to commit blunders than at a wedding.
The following actually occurred in a neigh
boring town.
In the midst of a crowd of witnesses,
the clergyman had just completed that in
teresting ceremony which binds in the
silver bonds of wedlock, two willing hearts,
and stretched forth his hand to implore the
blessing of heaven on the union.
At this point the groomsman, seeing ihr
open hands reached out, supposed that it
was the signal for him to surrender the
wredding fee, which was burning in his
pocket. Accordingly, just as the clergy
man closed his eyes in prayer, he felt the
pressure of two sweaty half dollars upon
his open palms. The good ma n hesitated
a moment, appalled at the ludicrousness
of his situation, but at last, cooly deposi
ted the money in his pocket, and proceed
ed'with his devotions.
William Ktt.
Pitt was tall and thin, w ith a gloomy,
sneering expression. His language was
cold, his intonation motonotous, his ges
tures passionless; yet the lucidness and
fluency of his ideas, and his logical reason
ing illumined hy sudden flashes of elo
quence, made his abilities something ex
traordinary. I saw Pitt pretty often, as
he walked across St. James Park, from
his house, on his way to die kiug. George
III. on his side, had perhaps just arrived
from Windsor, after drinking beer from
pewter pots with the farmers of the neigh
borhood; he crossed the ugly court yard of
his ugly palace iu a dark carriage, follow
ed by a few horse guards. This was die
master of the kings of Europe, as five or
six merchants are masters of India.
Pitt, in a black coat, and brass hiltcd
sword, with -his hat under his arm, went
up stairs, two or three steps at a time; on
his way he only saw a few idle emigres,
and glancing disdainfully at us, passed on
with a pale face and a head, thrown back.
'This great financier maintained no order
in his own house; he had no regular hours
for his meals or his sleep. Plunged in
debt, he had paid nothing, and could not
make up his mind to add up a bill. A
valet managed las household affairs. Ill-
dressed, without pleasure, without passion, -eager
for power" alone, he despised hon
ors, and would he nothing but William ;
Pitt. Lord Liverpool took me to dine at
his country house in the month of June, -1823;
and on his way thither pointed out
to me the small house where died in pov
erty the son of Lord Chatham, the states
man who brought all Europe into his pay,
and distributed with his own hands all the
millions of the earth. -Memoirs of Cha
teaubriand. HFWho is that fellow bowing right
and left, and introducing Mr. Clay to the
crowd,' asked a gendeman of a friend at
one of the levees of the giant of the West,
held in the St. Charles, New Orleans.
'I do not know his name, was the re
sponse, 'out ne is uviuunuy iir. via a
right bower. Cincinnati Dispatch.
GPThe moat beautiful sight m nature,
Dobbs says, was a woman he met yester
day. 'Grace was in her steps, Heaven
in her eyes, and in her arms a baby, A
rasebush with a bud clinging to i was
nothing to the heavenly loveliness.
- .