1
II J
I'.
'WE GO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE WAY ; WHEN THEV CEASE TO LEAD, WE
CEAF. TO FOLLOW
IiV JOHN G. GIVEN.
EliENSBURG, THURSDAY, JANUARY 31,
VOL. G NO. 17.
- e
1
n
IVI IS CULLANZOUS-
Translated from the German for l!u German.
town Telegraph.
.Adventures of a flew Year's Eve.
Old Mother Kate, the watchman's wife,
threw up the window, and popped her
head out into the dark night. It was nine
o'clock on New Year's Eve the snow
was fast falling in large flakes, reddened
by the light from the windows in the
streets of the city. She gazed for a long
time at the merry groups of people hurry
ing to and fro, thronging the doors of the
brilliantly lighted shops in search of new
year presents entering the coffee-houses
and wine-cellars, or hastening to "private
parties or public balls, to celebrate the
marriage of the old year to the new, amid
the joys and pleasures of every variety of
amusement.
But some ol the large cold flakes having
dropped on old Mother Kate's nose, she
quickly drew in her head, and, shutting
the window, said to her husband:
Dear Gottlieb, stay at home to-night,
and let Philip go out in your place, for it
is snowing as fast as it can, and you Know
the snow does not agree with your old
limbs. It looks as if there was a feast or
a ball in every house, and Philip will be
delighted with the many fine things he
will see.'
Old Gottlieb nodded, and said, I would
be glad of that. My barometer, the old
crW.wntind in mv knee, has warned me
these two days ".that the weather was go- j
ing to change. It is but just mat me son
should help his father in the duties which
he is about to inherit.'
Old Goltlieb had been in his younger
days a seargent in one of the regiments of
his king, until in storming a battery in
which he was. the foremost, he was crip
pled by a shot. His captain for this gal
lant and successful charge, received a de
coration and promotion, but the poor
sergeant had to congratulate himself with
having escaped with his life and a broken
leg. He was, however, appointed to the
oflice of watchman with his son for an
assistant. The small salary of the two
would not, however, have sufficed for the
family, had not Mother Kate been an ex
cellent housekeeper and very economical.
Old Gottlieb was beside a real philosopher,
who could be happy on the scanty income
of his public salary, and the scanty pit
tance Phillip earnedjn the employ of the
public gardener, sufficed to render him
comfortable, also.
Philip was a fine looking young man of
twenty-six, and when sent to take home
bunches of ilowers to the ladies, would
often receive from them a liberal present.
Mother Kate had already thrown her
shawl from her shoulders and was about
to step to the garden to call her son when
Philip came in.
'Father,' said he, shaking hands with
his parents, 'it is snowing, and the snow
you know, makes you suffer. Let me
take your place to-night, and you go to
bed.'
You're a good boy,' said Gottlieb.
And then I've been thinking,' contin
ued Philip, 'that to-morrow is New
Year's, and I should like to dine with you
and have a real treat. Dear mother, per
haps you have not a roast in the kitchen-'
No, not exactly,' interrupted Mother
Kate, 'but I have a pound and a half of
beef, with potatoes and rice, and laurel
leaves for soup; beside some bottles of
beer. Come, Philip, we shall live well
to-morrow. Next week the watchmen
will divide their New-Year's presents,
and then. we shall have good living.
So much the better for you. But have
you your 'rent yet?' anxiously inquired
Philip. ' '
Old Gottlieb shrugged his shoulders.
Philip then placed a sum of money on
the table, saying, Hcxe are twenty-two
florins which you may take for your New
Year's present. Let us all three com
mence the new year cheerfully and hap
py.' Mother Kate's eyes were filled with
tears, but she was speechless. Old Gott
lieb, chok in? with gratitude., said: You
- - " 7 CD -J -
are ; indeed, my. boy, the consolation of
your parents in their oiu age. l wish you
nothing for your new year, but that you
may keep your heart , pure and good, for
that will be a heaven in your own bosom.'
After a pause,' the old man resumed.
We have now received as much in all as
three hundred and seventeen florins.'. .
Dear child, I pity .you,' said Mother
Kate, 'if you had been able to keep that
sum "yourself, you might buy a piece of
land, establish yourself as a gardener on
your own account, and marry the good
Rosa. Now that is impossible. Bat we
are old, and vou shall not have very long
to support us.
Mother,' .answered Philip, 4how you
do talk? I like Rosa as I do my own life;
yet I would give a hundred Rosas for you
and father. I cannot get other parents in
this world, but I couid find another Rosa,
though not like Rosa Bittner.'
You are tight, Philip,' said the old
man, there is no merit in making love
and marrying; but honor and support
aged parents is a noble duty and one of
the highest of virtues.'
But, said the mother, 'the girl may get
tired of waiting, and change her mind, for
Rosa is a beautiful girl, and though poor
she would not lack lovers.'
Be not afraid, mother, replied Philip,
Rosa has vowed that she would never
marry any one but me, and that is enough.
Nor has her old mother any objection to
our union. But if I could to-day exercise
my trade on my own account, to-morrow
I would lead her to the altar. I only re
gret that iicr old mother does not allow us
to see each other as often as we please.
She says that would not do any good;
while both Rosa and myself find that it
does a great deal of good; and so we have
agreed to meet to night at twelve, at the
door of the church.'
While this conversation was going on,
Philip was preparing himself to take his
father's place on the watch. He went out
and entered on his duties with cheerful
ness, for he knew that Rosa was with her
friends.
Now she hears me,' he thought, 'how
she thinks of me and will not forget to be
at the church door at twelve o'clock.'
After having gone his rounds on the
watch, lie repaired to the house of his be
loved Rosa, and from the street gazed
upon its walls. Now and then he saw
female figures flitting behind the windows,
and his heart beat quickly as he thought
he saw Rosa. When the figures disap
peared he studied their gigantic shadows
on the wall, hoping to discern which was
Rosa, and what she was doing. To be
sure it was not very pleasant to be stand
ing there in the cold storm; but what does
a lover care for frost and snow. Now-a-da)'S
watchmen are as romantic lovers as
were formerly the gallant knights in ro
mances and ballads. He did not feel the
cold until the clock struck eleven, when
he again commenced his rounds on the
watch. His teeth were then chattering
with cold. He was scarcely able to call
out the hour and sound his horn.
As he was going through a lonely street,
he met with a singular figure. It was a
man in a black half-mask, wrapped up in
a fine red silk cloak, and wearing on his
head a round hat, with one side of the
brim turned up and fantastically ornamen
ted with a profusion of waving feathers.
Philip was about to avoid the mask,
when the latter stopped him and said:
'You are a most lovely fellow, you! I like
you! Where are you going? Tell me!
Philip answered: Mo Maria street.'
'I must then go with you,' exclaimed
the mask. But tell me, my lad, can you
sing a song?'
Philip seeing that the gentleman was a
gay companion, answered: 4Sir, better
with a glass of wine in a warm room than
in the cold street where one's heart free
zes in the bodv.'
As Philip pursued his beat, the mask
accompanied him, and would insist on
blowing the watchman's horn at thevari
ons stations, and giving some merry songs.
Philip, supposing him to be some gentle
man who had got over heated by wine,
let him have his own way.
Hark ye, young man!' said the mask,
I should like to be a watchman for a few
hours. Give me your cloak and broad
brimmed hat, and take my domino; then
go to the ale house and warm yourself by
the fire and wine at my expense. What
say you?'
Philip at last consented, changed cos
tumes, and appointed to meet the stronger
at the church-door, at twelve o clock.
Philip after havirg obtained the solemn
assurances of his substitute that he would
not disgrace his new calling, hurried away
to the ale-house. On his way he was
touched by a masked person, who had just
got out of a carnage. Philip stopped, and
inquired, in the fashion of masks, vhat
do you wish?' ;
The mask answered, Docs not your
royal highness intend
W fiat royal highness?' said Philip laugh
ing; 'I am no highness.' How do you get
that idea iuto your he: d? .
The mask bowed most respectfully, and
pointing to the diamond in Philip's hat,
said, I beg your gracious pardon, if I vio
late the rights of nias'is. But in whatever
garment you may wrap yourself up, your
noble figure will always betray you. May
I ask whether your lordship is going, to
dance?', ' ' -
I dance! No. You see that I am in
boots. '
. Thcn you will play?' the mask con
tinued. .'Still less; I have got no money with
me.'
My pur.se is at your lordship's com
mand, with all I am and have,' the mask
exclaimed, presenting nt the same time, a
full purse to the embarrassed watchman.
But do you know who I am?' asked
Philip, pushing back the mask.
The mask replied with a graceful bow,
His royal highness, Prince Julian.'
At that moment Philip heard his substi
tute in a neighboring street, crying with a
loud voice the hour of the night. He then
understood the metamorphosis. Prince
Julian, who was known in the city as a
wild, amiable and talented young man,
had exchanged parts with him. 'Well,'
thought Philip, 'if he plays the part of a
watchman withsuccess.:I will not disgrace
mine of a prince, and I will show him that
I am capable of being .a prince for half an
hour.'
He then took the purse and put it in his
pocket, saying: 'Mask who are you? I
will return 3011 your money to-morrow.
I am the chamberlain Pilzon.'
Very well. Go on. I follow you.'
The chamberlain obe-ed and flew up
J the rich marble steps. Philip quickly fol
lowed. They entered an immense saloon
lighted up with a thousand wax candles,"
! whose rays were, reflected by the numer
1 ous mirrors which covered the walls, and
j beautifully refracted by the chandeliers
Hanging irom tne ceilings. A gay tnrong
of masks was moving before him there
were Tyrolcse girls, Papngeno's, armed
knights, nuns pedlers, cupids, monks, and
Jews, Perians and Modes, in a motley con
fusion. Philip felt for a while dazzled
and stupefied. Never in his ffTe had he
seen such a show. It was like a dream.
In the centre of the room a hundred dan
cers of both sexes were swimming in the
harmonious waves of music.
How is it Bramin, you do not dance to-
j nisrht?' he asked the chamberlain.
The Bramin sighed while shrugging his
shoulders; For me, sport and dance are
over The only one whom I should wish
to lead to the dance is Countess Bonau. I
believed that she loved me. now suddenly
she breaks altogether with me.'
Indeed, that is the first I have heard "of
it.
My God! you do not know? The
whole capital is full of it,' the chamberlain
continued with a sigh. 4It is a forthight
since the rupture took place. Nor does
she even allow me to defend myself. She
sent me back three letters without opening
them.
Well Bramin, the general joy reconciles
every one. Let us try tire countess.
There she is, the Carmelite. She has
taken off her mask. Speak a woid in my
favor.
My countess,' stammered Philip much
embarrassed, as she turned her full clear
eyes upon him.
Prince,' said the countess, you were
an hour ago almost loo waffjrish.'
My fair countess I am the more serious
now.'
'So much the better. Prince; then I shall
not have to run away.
Fair lady, allow me but one question.
Are you doing penance for your sins in
that garment.'
I have nothing to repent of.'
'You forget, countess, your cruelties,
your injustice toward the dear Bramin who
is standing yonder alone.'
She cast down her eyes and appeared
disturbed.
Do you know, fair countess, that the
chamberlain is as innocent of the occur
rences at Merry wood as myself?'
Do you, my lord,' said the countess,
with a slight frown, 'forget what you told
me an hour aro?'
You are right, dear countess; I was
too free, as you say yourself. But now I
assure you, the chamberlain went to Mer
rywood by order of the queen's mother.
lie went against his will; against his will
he had to escort the baroness whom he
hates '
Whom he hates!' the countess exclaim
ed, with a bitter smile.
'Yes he hates and despises her. Believe
me he has passed almost the boundaries
of good beeding toward her.'
No more,' whispered the Carmelite,
with a more cheerful countenance; We
are observed. Let us go from here?'
She put on her mask, and took the arm of
the suposed Prince. They went up the
hall, and into a side room, where they
were alone. Here the countess made
bitter complaints against the chamberlain;
but they were only complaints of jealous
love. .
As she wiped a tear from her eye, the
Bramin entered. A deep silence ensued,
which Philip interrupted by leading the
chamberlain to the Carmelite, and placing
his hand in hers, without saying a word
returned to the dance.
Soon he had the pleasure of seeing the
chamberlain and the countess all smiles
joined together in the dance. Philip lauh-
cam 111s sieevc, tiiougiu ol -lus substitute,
and wondered how he got alotif . At this
moment the chamberlain approached him
and said:
Prince, I can never repay the debt of
j gratitude I owe you. You have e fleeted
a reconciliation between me and my wife.
We have resolved to return to-night to our
estate in the country. Fare-you-well, my
life is it at your service.'
But this'purse! What am I to do with
this?' asked Philip.
'That is the sum you recollect 1 borrow
ed of you last week. I had almost forgot
ten to return it. The draft is addressed to
your royal highness.' With these words
he departed.
Philip read it orer and found that it was
foi-rivc- ltOTioantl florins. lie put ll ill his
pocket, and thought what a fine thing it
would be to be a Prince in reality.
At thatvery moment some one whisp
ered in his ear, roval highness, we are
both betrayed. I shall shoot myself.'
Philip turned around with amazement, and
saw a nesro.
W hat do you
quickly asked.
do
want, Mask? Philip
'I am Colonel Cold,' the negro answer
ed, in a low voice. 'The unlucky pwife
of the chamberlain has betrayed us both
to Duke Herman, who vomits fire and
flame against your lordship and myself.'
'I do not care,' replied Philip.'
But the king will know all!' the negro
continued with an anxious sigh. 'Perhaps
I shall be arrrcstcd this very night, and
.sent to a fortress to-morrow. I would
rather hang myself.'
That will not help vou much,' said
PhUin.
'But shall I expose myself to a life-long
shame? I am lost! The Duke will ask
a bloody satisfaction. His back is certain
ly still black with the blows I administered
to him. I am lost as well as the baker's
daughter. I shall throw myself from the
bridge this very night.'
.Beware,' said Philip. 'What would
yon or the baker's daughter gain by that?'
Your royal highness is joking, while I
am in despair! I beseech you most hum
bly, grant me only a few minutes without
witness.' . .
'Philip followed the negro to a private
room.
Here the negro went into a detail of his
di'Hcultics, and besought the prince to save
him. Philip promised to do all in his
power, and departed.
Conclusion next week.)
Choosing AVivcs.
Some Yankee says to take a nice girl
out a slaying is very pretty, aint it! And
then the insinuating critters do say the
bells make such a din, there's no hearin'
one's self speak; so they put their pretty
Iittle mugs close up to your face and talk,
talk, talk, till one can't help looking at
them instead of the horse, and then whap
you go, capsized into a snow drift together,
skins, cushions and all. And then to see
the little crittur shake herself when she
gets np, like a duck landing from a pond,
a chattering away like a canary bird, and
you a haw-hawing with pleasure, is fun
alive you may depend. In this way the
blue-nose gets on to offer himself a lover,
before he knows where he is. But when
he gets married, he recovers his eye sight
in little less than half no time, He. soon j
finds he's treed, his flint is fixed then, you
may depend. She lams him how vinegar
is made. Put plenty of sugar into the
water afore-hand, my dear," says she -if
you want it real sharp.,' The larf is on
the other side of the mouth. If his slay
gets upset, it's no longer a funny matter, I
tell you; he catches it right and left. Her
eyes don't look up to his'n any more, nor
her little tongue ring like a little bell any
longer; but a great big hood covers her
head, and a whapping great muff covers
her hands and she looks like a bar of old
clothes agoing to the brook to be washed.
When they get out, she don't want any
more for him to walk lock and lock with
her, hut they walk like a horse and cow
to water, in each gutter. If there ain't a
transmogrification, it's a pity. The dif
ference between a wife and a sweetheart
is near about as great as there is between
new and hard a man never tires of put
ting one to his lips, but he 'makes wry
faces at tpther. It makes me so kinder
wamble-crept when I think on it, that I
am afeared to ventur on matrimony at all.
I have seen some blue-noses mast proper
ly bit, you may depend. The marriage
yoke is plagucy apt to gall the neck, as
the ashbow does the ox in rainy weather,
unless it be most particularly well fitted.
You've seen a j'oke of cattle that warh't
properly mated; they spend more time in
pulling agin each other, than in pulling
the load. Well that's apt to be the case
with them as chooses their wives in slaj'
in parties, quilten frolics, and so on, in
stead 6'f the dairies and cheese-houses.
Of It is said that a Yankee Missionary,
who did not succeed as well as he could
wish in converting the heathen, endea
vored to Lake a contract to run the car of
Juggernaut by slcanv!
XewRivrr ia Califouia.
The following interesting letter from
Maj. Emory to the head of "the Topograph
ical Bureau, is of great interest. The ap
pearance of this new river in the heart of
the Desert, where all that passed have suf
fered greatly for want of water, is one of
those interpositions of Providence in be
half of our people that is almost equal to
the age of miricles.
Cami Riley, Soitii of San Diego, "
California, 'Aug. 20, 1810. $
ir: A very remarkable circumstance
nas
occurred in" that portion or the country""0"11 tllG prominent events of his life,
t een the mouth of Gila River and the I He was born in Poland ii175G, and
bctw
mountains, 'usually' called the "Desert,"
sometimes the "Jornado."
A river, forty feet wide and more than
waist deep, has appeared in the middle of
this desert, affording delicious water to
drink, making an oasis at the most conve
nient spot for the traveller.
The first parties that came in by the
Gila route arrived in San Diego about the
20th June. Among them were many in
telligent persons, who passed over thoVoutc
of the advanced guard of the Army of the
West in IS 10, and who saw no river in
ho desert, and suffered dreadfully with
thirst. The parties that came in about
the fourth of Julv first stated this rcmark-
aoic circumstance 01 encountering a river j
where none before had existed But they
were not duly credited. Others have since
arrived in great numbers, all bearing testi
mony to the trulh of the statement.
From the best information I can rather
it appears
1. The event must have taken place be
tween the 20th June and 1st July.
'I. Tt jmirrri J tn 1 i n mi t ti of ttir miilo
traced on mv map. It crosses that route
about midway of the desert, or more cor
rcclly, about half way betwen the camp
of the 2G'di and 27th November, noted on
the map, and its course is a lit'.lu cast of
north.
In connexion with this subject it may
be stated that a fine fresh water lake has
also been formed a few miles to the south
ofthecampof November 2Gth. This is
evidently from the back water of the Col
orado, the indication of the barometer in
1S1G showing it to be near the level of the
Colorado.
My first impressions were that the new
river was furnished from the same source,
and the barometric measurements of '-16
are not adverse to this supposition; but its
direction nearly north, and other cireum
stances seem to forbid this conjecture. It
cannot be supplied from the mountains,
which, in that parallel and to the south do
not reach the regions of snow. Whence
it comes, and where it goes, is a matter
yet to be determined. I will take an
opportunity to detach a party to examine
it.
Seeing avast number of emigrants now
coming over this route, most of whom, as I
they inform me, have no other guide than
my report, I will be glad if you will have
inserted a notice of this new river, in any
new addition of the journal and map that
may bo published.
The existence of water must be follow
ed bv the growth of grass; and, if the river
continues, the route by the Gila, now
mucli traveled will stand fair to rival all
overland rout?s to California. It is proba
bly the only route within the limits of the
United States that can be passed in winter,
and the one upon which will concentrate
the winter travel to the Pacific.
Very respectfully,
your obediedt servant.
W. II. EMORY.
Col. J. J. Ahkut,
Chief Corps Topographical Engineer.
From the Bos-ton Post.
At Lynn, wc learn from the Bat Slate
the First Universalis! Society lately held a
levee, at which a dozen silver spoons were
awarded to the author of the following
conundrum, as the best of any offered on
the occasion:
Why is a prolix clergyman like an
aged person? Because they both dilate
die late
The following were also presented,
but were not considered as snooneu as the
above: j
Why is a minister like a locomotive?
Wc have to look out for him while the bell
rinsrs.
Why is a lady's hair like a bee hive?
It holds the comb.
Why is an itnoxicated young man, who
is to become the inheritor of his father's
estate, like a certain kind of stove? He is
an heir light fjair-tight.3
hy is jx falsehoood often repeated
like a well-substantiated truth? It is relied
1
upon.
Why is an Atlantic steamship like a
horse's collar? It goes over the main
rmane.3
-Why arc these conundrum makers like
burglars? They arc looking fr the silver
spoons.
Kosciusca.
We love to acknowledge ' the services
rendered to our country iu her struggle lor
freedom, by distinguished foreigners.
What American can ever forget -that
American liberty was gained by the aid of
Lafayette, Montgomery, Steuben, Dc
Kalb, Pulaski, Kosciusco, Rochambeau,
and many others? Kosciusco was among
the most famous of these great men; but
his history is fast passing ofl from the
recollection of the present generation. A
purer patriot never breathed. Let us re-
received his military education at War
saw. Dr. Franklin made his acquaintance
in Paris, from which city, when 'Ameri
can Ambassador, he commended him for
military rank, to Congress. Washington
made him an aid. He soon became one
of our highest engineers, with the grade of
colonel. He fortified Gate's camp against
Burgoyne, and afterwards comnieuced the
fortifications at West Point, jt At the close
of ihe revolution he was a General, belo
ved by all the people of all the Slates. He
returned to his own country, was .made a
mnjor general under Poniatowski, the Po
lish Bayard, and served as such during the
fruitless Polish struggle ol 1792, '93 and
!U-1. In 1791 he was ircneralissimo of the
Polish armies. On the; 10th of October
he was taken prisoner by the Russians.
He was confined for years at St. Peters
burg, by the empress Catharine, then lib
erated by Paul, loaded with honors, and
offered employment in the Russian sen ice
He refused it, willing to serve in the cause
of freedom. Paul olfercd to him his own
sword. Kosciusco replied: ' no longer
nccd a su'ord, since I have no longer a
count rv. In
1798 he aain visited
America. Con
for his services,
as the attorney
ress made him a grant
It must have been small
general, Mr. Reverdy
jonnson, in ine article wc extraei lo-aay
from the Union, yiys, "he received no
rewards from us.' After visiting Gen.
Tl-.l -1 . .
Washinston
and Mr. Jefferson, and re-
mainmr a
short time in America, he re
turned to Europe. He lived many years.
we unuerstand, near Pans, where he was
when the allied armies entered France.
He then wgnt to Vienna, and aitcrwards
died in Switzerland, in October, 1817.
Thence his remains were taken to Poland,
where almost divine honors were paid
them. The cadets at West Point raised
a monument to his memory. Savannah
paper.
Lather Mania and Ihc Yuuns
Lawyer-
Wc heard an
anecdote of this distin
guished lawyer, a few days ago, which
we remember to have met with in print,
but which is so good that it will do 10 tell
again.
Martin was on one occasion riding to
j Annapolis, in a stage coach, in which was
a solitary companion, a young lawyer just
commencing the practice of law. After
some familiar conversation, the young gen
tleman said:
'Sir you have been remarkably success
ful in your profession few men have
1 gained so many cases will you bo good
enough to communicate to me, a beginner,
the secret of your wondrous success?
'I'll do it, young man, on one condition,
and that is, that you defray my expenses
during my stay of a few days at Annapo
lis.' 'Willingly,' replied the young' man,
hoping thereby to profit greatly by the
communication.
'The secret of my success,' said Martin,
may be discovered in this advice which I
now give you, namely: 'Deny everything,
and insist upon proof.1
Oa reaching Annapolis, Luther Martin
was not very self-denying in the enjoyment
presented by a line hotel; the substantial
and general refreshments were despatched
in a manner quite gratifying to mine host.
The time for return at length came. The
young man and Martin stood together at
the bar, and demanded their respecthe
bills.
Martin's was enormous, but on glancing
at it, he quietly hauded it to the young
lawyer who, running his eye over it lei
surely, returned it with the utmost gravity.
Don't you intend to pay i." said Mar
tin. Pay what?' said the young lawj-er.
Why, pay this bill. Did you not prom
ise, on the route downward, ihat you
would defrav my expenses at the hotel?'
'My dear'sir,'" said the young gentle
man, 4I deny everything, and insist upon
proof.
Martin at once saw that he was caught,
and evein his voung friend a moment or
. - . . t
two, he said pleasantly, I ou don 1 ncca
anv counsel from me.
vounsr
man; you
' uon 1 need any counsel Iroin me.
CI' A wag says that Father Matthew
has. recently received a large offer lotake
up his residence in Wall street, to keep
the money market fro.n getting tight.
ir