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TIIE GARLAND,
—"With sweetest flowers enrich'd
'yowl various gardens cull'd with care."
THE SAILOR'S SICK CHILD.
, Mother, when will morning come?'
A 'weeping creature said;
on a woe-worn, wither'd oreast
It laid its little head,
nd when it does, I hope 'twill be
All pleasant, warm and bright,
pay me for the many pangs
• re felt this weary night•
mother, would you not, if rich,
Ike the rector, or the squire,
a bright candle all the night,
And make a nice warm fire?
I should be so glad to see
Their kind and cheerful glow!
then I should not feel the night
eto very long I know
• is true you fold me to your heart,
And kiss me when I cry—
ad lift the cup onto my lip
When I complain I'm dry.
cross my shoulder your dear arm
All tenderly is prei,s'd,
id often I am lull'd to sleep
Sy the throbbing of your breast.
at %would be comfort, would it not,
For you as well as me,
o have a light— -to have a are—
Perhaps—a cup of tea?
gun think I should be well
II these things were but so—
rottaether, I remember, ones
We had them—long ago.
Tat you ware not a widow dun,
I not an orphan boy;
Vhen father. (long ago) came home
I us'd to jump with joy,
Iced to climb upon his knee,
And cling about his neck,
And listen while he told us tales
Of battle and of wreck.
) had we not a bright fire then!
And such a many friends!
When are they all gone, mother dear ;
For no one to us sends?
!think if some of them would come
We might know comfort now
Clough of them all, not one could be
Like hint I will allow,
But he was sick, and then his wounds
Would often give him 'pain,
io that I cannot bear to wish
Him with us once again,
mou say that PC shall go to him
In such a happy place—
: wish it was this very night,
That I might see his face!'
['he little murmurer's wish was heard,
Before the morning broke,
:Ie slept the long and silent sleep,
From which he never woke;
►bove the little pain -warn thing
The sailor's widow wept,
%nd wonder',] how her lonely heart
In vital pulses kept!
iut she liv'd on, though all bereft,
A toil-worn, heart-rung slave
And oft she came to wet', upon
Her young boy's little grave;
corner of the poor-house ground
Contains his mould'ring clay,
knd there the mourning mother wept
A sabbath's !:JLIV away.
And as she felt the dull decay
Through all her pulses creep,
'he cry'd, 'By his unconscious dust
I'll soon hi:laid to sleep:
Thar valour, patiencel/2?innocnice,
Like visions will have passed,
And the sailor, and his wife and child,
Will have bound relief at last,'
SELECT TALE,
THE SAIIKE EJITER.
-'Some strange commotion
Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts;
Stops on the sudden, and looks upon the
ground;
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight
Springs nut into fast gate; then stops again,
Strikes his breast hard; then anon he casts
His eye against the moon; in most strange
posture
We have seen hi in set himself.'
SIIAKS. HENRY VIII,
A few years ago, near the sunset of an
autumnal day, I reached a populous town
on the banks of the Mississippi. An ac
cident to the steam-boat, wherein I had
embarked, and by which many lives lost
through the carelessness of an ignorant
and drunken engineer, had compelled the
directors of the boat to stop with the re
maining company. and repair the damages
that had occurred.
Alas! there were damages and evils on
board that unpretending craft, which were
beyond the reach of mechanist or chirur
geon. The dead were strewing the deck;
fragments of the boiler, and broken wheels
were lying around; and masses of soot
and cinders from the uncleaned
blackened tht deck, On every side were
corpses, and wailing friends, and tearful
eyes. A few settees had been brought up
from the cabin, and on the mattrasses
with which they were covered, the dead
were laid. It was an awful scene. Two
hours before, all was well; and every
heart seemed bounding with the rapid im.
pulse of life and hope. I myself escaped
by a miracle. I was seated at the stern
of the boat, near the end window of the
cabin, over the rudder, watching, as is my
wont, to see the turbulent waters boil
around the keel, and mark the landscape
flit by and recede, A noise like an earth-
quake, which made the shuddering boat
recoil many yards,--a rush of hot steam
through the broken windows--the hissing
of the pieces from the boilers, as they
dropped into the river, and after one sad
pause of an instant, the shrieks of the
dead and dying, sad the surviving mour
ners,—these were the signs which beto
kened the appalling disaster, and convin-'
ced me visibly, for the first time, what a
amount of pain and misery can be crow
ded into a passing moment.
It is a sight of horror to behold the
strong man smitten down in his might;
to sec the pride o f womanhood defaced
and blighted by sudden death; to hear the
lamentations of grief and despair, where
but a little time before were heard the
light laugh of pleasure, and the tones of
delight. llow distant was the thought of
harm, from each and all! Truly it is
said by the great bard of nature,-- , We
know what we are but not what we shall
be.' W c weave the garlands of joy, even
by the precipice of death; we disport in'
the sunbeam, unmindful of the storm that
is blooming afar, and will soon be at hand.
The sun descended as we entered the
town, which was situated o■ ascending
grounds near the river. A swell of up
land, overlooking near at hand a few
patches of green, which I took to he cot
ton fields, and which apparently coalman.'
ding an extended view of the shores and
course of the great Father of Rivers
stretched rearward for the place. Over
come with excitement and gratitude for
my deliverance, and seein; also there
had thronged to the wharf, a large num
ber of citizens, sufficient for every pur
pose of charitable assistance toward the
sufferers, and the dead on board of the
steam-boat, I selected that portion of my
luggage which had not been destroyed,
and after seeking a hotel, made the best
of my way to the upland of which I have
spoken. I felt like one snatched from
the grave; and deeply impressed with the
sense of the danger from which I had es
caped through the watchfulness of a be
nignant Providence, 1 determined to seek
some haunt of retirement, and quiet my
agitated spirits with thankful medita
' titm.
When I gained the eminence, I found
that the view was calculated to heighten
and expand all the feelings with which
"ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
A. W. BENEDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY JANUARY 16, 1839.
my heart was surcharged, to the overflow.
A few gorgeous clouds, bedight in crim
son and purple, were sailing in glory
along the melancholy west; dark cypres
ses hung to their tops with trailing clus
ters of wild vine, colored with mingled
violet, amber, and emerald, stood in re
lief before the horizon; while afar, on
either hand, the great Mississippi was
seen rolling along with a kind of quiver
ing radiance, and exhibiting, even at that
distance, the turbulent might, which
makes it seem like prostrate Niagara.
At a distance, in each extremity of the
view, it was lost in dark woods and mis•
ty head-lands; an emblem, most striking
at the moment, of that obscurity which,
like the shadow curtain in the vision of
Mirza, overhung the stream of life and
time, making to the Past a dream; and of
the Future a vast unknown.
It is impossible to describe the sensa
tions which animate the bosom of an Amer
ican, as he looks at this running ocean,
and the long vale through which it rolls.
lie gazes onward with the eye of antici
pation to the not distant period, when
that almost interminable stretch of land
scape shall become bright with towns,
and vocal with the sounds of human in
dustry; when the busy hu►n of scholars
at their tasks, of artists at their labors, of
the husbandman folding his flocks, or
garnering the rich treasures of the har
vest, shall succeed the moanings of the
cypress, and the mingled howlings of
rosining beasts of prey, and yet wilder
Indians; when the light of civilization and
religion shall extend over forests and sa
vannahs, until the progress of our people
through the dominions of the receding
Aboriginecs, shall be, in the expressive
words of Scripture, •' as the morning
spread upon the mountains; a great peo
ple, and a strong; of whom there !lath not
Ven ever the like, neither shall be any
more after it, to the years of many gener
ations."
As I turned to survey the prospect, I
saw at no great distance from the spot
where I stood, a white tent, or pavilion
surmounted with a parti-colored flag.
which was waving to the evening breeze,
and en which 1 read the words,-- , TnE
Smut': EarEtt."The tent was open on
one side like a door, before which there
was a curtain. Benches were placed in
an amphitheatrical form before the tent,
which were then filling with people. The
faint glimmer of an early lamp was per
ceivable behind the dark curtain; and
moved with curiosity, I bent my steps to
ward the assemblage. I paid the requi
site sum to the person who kept the gate
of a picket fence which surrounded the
amphitheatre, and took my seat among
the crowd, in the open air.
'Twilight had now set in, and the twink.
ling of the stars could be seen on the
bread bosom of the Mississippi, as it mo
ved ;11 voiceless solemnity towardlthe
ocean. The cypresses assumed the sem
blance of weird and ghastly forms against
the sky; and an occasional sweep of a be
lated hawk from the far oft prairies, with
his dismal scream, gave token that the
day had died, and its dirge was sounding.
Presently, at the tinkle of a little bell.
the certain of the tent was lifted. A
young man was seated at a table, with a
box before him, covered with glass, and
apparently subdivided into two or more
drawers. lie seemed eight and twenty
years of age; his face was thin, and a
leaded wanness overspread his features;
but his sunken eye had that supernatural
brightness so often seen in his eyes of the
consumptive by an occasional cough; and
118 he removed his cravat, and turned his
wristbands over the cuffs of the coat, he
said:
'The company has' assembled to sec the
Snake Eater. If any one wishes to sat_
isty himself with regard to the reptile
which I am now about to devour, in the
presence of you all, and to restore again
from my throat alive, he will please to
draw nigh.'
He turned the closed cover of the box
over toward the audience, as he made
this observation, and disclosed to the sight
a t ideous rattlesnake. It was
& when disturbed, elevated its spiry bead
from its circle, and while its forked
tongue played with a rapid motion, it dar
ted against the glass in vain attempts to
escape, while its rattles continued to qui
ver with a violent and whizzing sound,
accompanied by that apparent flatening of
the head, which denotes the highest pitch
of resentment, Its dilated eye shot fire;
and the coarse scales on its contorted
form grew rugged in its anger.
After this expose, the Snake Eater pla
ced the box in its original position. A chil
ly shudder ran through the assembly,
when after turning his back to the behol
der, he bent his face for a moment at the
edge of the horred reptile with his hand.
The snake now seemed languid and pas
sive, though the rattles continued to
sound. Its placed the head of the veno
mous serpent to his lips—he opened his
mouth, and the long spire began to de
scend. It was an appalling sight to see
that huge mcnsti•uin horroolum making
its way into the throat of a human being.
The cheeks of the young man began to
dilate, and his complexion became a livid
purple. His eyes seemed bursting from
their sockets--masses of foam gathered
about his lips—and lie looked as if in the
severest struggles of the last mortal ago
ny—as it tasting of death. Several of
the audience shrieked with affright.
After appal a ntly mumbling and craun
ching his fearful nice!, the Snake Eater
again partially opened his lips, and the
forked tongue of the reptile was seen
playing, like threads of bright red fire, be
tween them. Presently it began to
emerge. It moved very slowly, as if held
back by other serpents that had preceded
it, in the awful deglution of its master,
As the long, loathsome folds hung from
the lips and continued to extend, the fea
tures of the Snake Eater assumed their
wonted aspect; and in a moment, the rep
tile had emerged, was replaced in the box,
and the feat, was accomplished.
After seating himself far a few seconds,
to recover from the perilous execution of
his task, the Snake Eater arose and ad
dressed the audience. He desired them
to believe that he had wished, not to ap
pal, but to surprise them. There was, he
acknowledged, an art in what he had
done—but it was a mysterious and un
discoverable one. 'They call me mad,'
he added bitterly, 'and a conjurer; but a
conjurer I am none, and though I have
been mad, lam not now; yet often ds I
wish I were. You will dominate my
calling and of foolish haz•rard, and per
haps of disgust; but did you know all, you
would judge of me better. I thank you
for your attendance; and I have succeeded
in surprising you, my aim has been won.'
The audience,• in the enthusiasm of
western feeling, gave the performer three
hearty cheers, and retired with wonder
stricken faces. I lingered behind until
the last had departed, and stepped into
the tent, where the Snake Eater had drawn
a few eatables from his kaapsack, which
he was discussing with considerable rel
ish. I found him sociable, but sad. By
degrees my observations excited a sym
pathy in his mind; and as we sat, toward
midnight, in his solitary house of canvass,
the dark Mississippi rolling below, the
pale stars fretting the vault above—and
the far West stretching in dimniss around,
he thus began:—
THE SNAKE EATER'S STORY,
"I am not, my friend, what you see
me. Though regarded hereabouts as one
' who has dealings with familiar spirits and
wizards, I am only a heart-broken man,
the child of sorrow, and almost without
hope. Ido not thus speak foi your spil
-1 pathy ; for your sympathy can at best but
awaken afresh the wells of mournful ten
derness in my breast, withoutpowing one
ray of sunshine upon the troubled foun
tains; they must How on in darkness,
without a prospect of day. Listen to me.
"Eight short years ago, with the spirit
of adventure stirring within ire, I came
as it were directly from the walls of a
university, in one of the Atlantic states,
to this 'far country.' I came with prodi
gal endow melts from my father: and seek
ing the their frontiers of civilization, cm
barked in trade with settlers and Indians.
I bought tura and sold all kinds of mer
cantile riches. I prospered; my capital
re-doubled itself, and in all respects I
was prosperous. You may perhaps de
sire to know my motive for thus leaving
the charms of society, and seeking the
seclusion of the wilderness. It was the
strongest of motives—human affection.
An uncle had preceded me, Ile had a
ward, to whom I had been deeply and de
votedly attached from my childhood.- -
She was the paragon of her sex.
I speak not as a rhapsodist, or with en
thusiasm; for the loveliest being that ever
came irons the hands of God into this
lower world, could not excel her for beau
ty. She made that beauty perfect, by
the graces of a mind. pure and clear as
the foaming diamond. Ifer voice was
melody; her smile a burst of living and
pearly light; and her calm blue eyes were
the sweet expositors of a sinless affection.
The young peach, when the airs and
beams of summer have awakened its ri
pening blushes, or the pomegranite, as it
glows among the leaves that tremble to
the rich chant of the nightengale, surpas
sed not her cheeks, for bloom or loveli- ,
ness, when her fair hair was divided on
her brow, and fell in masses of waving
and silken gold around them. Truly, I
loved her with my whole soul. She was
my idol—my cynosure—the centre of ev
ery desire, and the object of every aspi
ration:
"We were married. Time went on,
and brought me a bud from the rose that
I had established in my ween bower of
home. We were blest indeed. Aloof
from society, though we missed a few of
its luxuries, we suffered none of its vex
ations and demoralizing corruptions. On
Sabbath days, we rode many miles through
the wilderness, to worship our Maker in
bib sanctuary, and hear the word of life
hom the lips of those who journeyed
through the ,forest en missionary enter
prises,.- ambassadors from a court, of
which the most noble court of earth af
fords not the faintest emblem.
"On the day that our dear little Sarah
attained her second year, she was seated
by my counter, and her mother was stan
ding by, when three fierce looking ludi
lans entered the store. They had evident
ly travelled a long way, for their leggins
were torn and dirty, and their feet were
almost bare. I recognized one of them
instantly, as "The Grouching Wolf, a
desperate being, who hung alteinatcly
around the skirts of settlements, begging
for rum, or getting it in barter for small
poltry, which lie obtained in the chase.
Just one year before, he has visited ins
for the purpose of procuring the fire-water,
or ardent spirit. I refused him, and he
left me with a vow of future vengeance.
qlocglir said he, as he reeled up. with
his grailooking companions, towards the.
counter, where my child was playing, and
my wife stood: 'The Crouching Wolf
said he would conic back. lie wants the
talking w ater,=—he wants that or revenge.
He will have one!'
61 tried to reason with him,--but he
was deaf to reason. He had alread y
tasted from the flagon of one of his red
comrades, and the fumes were in his
brain.
'Come, medicine-man, the Wolf want s
the fire milk. Where is it? lie cannot
wait. Ilia spirits is up,'and his forehead
is warm.'
'I saw that he greW desperate,—but
resolution was fixed: I sternly denied him
—lt was a fatal denial.
Ile stepped back a few paces, growled
some guttural sentences to his companions
and the three then advanced toward
child. I was motionless, and pariqzed
with terror. As the Wolf Approached
my daughter, he drew a r.miahawk from
his belt, and flourished A on high. 1 sprang
toward him, but was pushed back by his
companions. The dear innocent, 'unaf
frighted. smiled in the face of the Crouch
ing Wolf, and it seemed as if the cheerful
purity of her look stayed his vengeful
m. He paused, until a scream from
the mother aroused the terror of her first
born. She shrunk back from the relent
less savage, while her mullet was kept,
[ Vox.. IY, No. 14
like myself, at bay, sad while her sweet
red lip, chiselled liKe her mother's, was
quivering with dismay, she said, in child
ish simplicity—
, Raiighy Indian,--if he hurts Sarah,
mu will be angry, and punish him.' As
she said this, sho burst into tears,—her
last forever.
'ln one instant, the trenchant weapon
of the infuriated Indian clove in sunder
the head of my babe: in the next, his exci
ted cumrads had murdered the wife of my
bosom. I have an indistinct and horrid
remembrance of my burning store, the red
fiends yelling over the consuming roof and
walls,—tny - escape to the forest; tlie rest
was but silence and oblivion. I was a
madman:
'Ten monitis after, I found myself its
New-Orleans. I had reached the city,
no one knew how,—had been conveyed to
a hospital, kindly trcatod. and discharged
as cured,—but an outcast and a beggar.
Misfortunes seldom come single. My fath
er had died,—and as I had already recei♦
ed my share of his estate, the residue mot
ted away among a host of brothers. My
inheritance had been destroyed by the In
dians. I was without a home or a friend.
'How I subsisted, I scarcely know.
At last, as I was one day walking on the
levee, I saw a group collected around an
Indian, who was performing certain tricks
from a box, with a rattlesnake, It was
the Crouching Wolf.
'The murderer of my wife and child!'
I exclaimed, us I penetrated through the
ring, and one huge blow felled the vile
monster to the earth. I seized him by
the throat.—l placed my knees open his
breast. In a few moments, he was a elis_
torted and ghastly corpse beneath my
feet.
'My award of retribution was consid s
cred just, and no effort was made to ar
rest me. Availing myself of the box be
longing to the Crouching Wolf, which I
contended was mine as a debt; L. seen
!earnt the mystery of his art, as it were b♦
intuition. The upper drawer of the box
contained the real rattlesnake; the other
merely the skin of oar, which could be
inflated by the breath, at will. The mo
tion ,of the tongue, which was dried, and
had wit4s within, was produced by load
stone; the movement of the rattles by the
same cause.•
'Filled from the lungs, it could readily
be taken into the mouth, and compressed
into a very small compass,--and while re.
passing outward, inflated again. I bdught
a new skin from a museum, which I. kil
led, and prepared according to the mod
el :before me. I could not endure the
thought of even using 'the same instru
ments formerly employed by the destrey
er of all that I most loved on earth, and I f
turned from his trickery with a feeling o f
almost positive loathing. A little prac
tice made me au adept in the mystery of
snake-eating,--and t have since wander
tiered in loneliness from town to town;
attempting this curious enterprise. My
pecuniary success has been sufficient for
my comfort and convenience,•—and the
feat is only in appearance. With a slight
exertiou, I can resolve My face into the
colors and contortions you witnessed this
evening, and which heighten the interest
of the spectacle.t But these things can
only temporarily divert my thoughts,—
for I carry within my heart an aching fr
yer, which no prosperity can allay or re.
move. The objects that have cheered ins
caw c h eer m e no more. I stand alone in
this w ilderness world,--a mourner and a
pilgrim, My visions arc of my wife and
'child; my day dreams are of the n; but I
must suffer as you see, until I meet them
in that better country, where the sun de
scends not, and darkness is unknown,
where the wicked cease from troubling,
and the weary are at rest. I can forget
my child,— for her existence seems to ins
like a misty trance,--in the fond assu
rance that the sparkling dewsdrop has ex
haled to heaven; but for the cherished
rose that sustainediit, I cease not to
grieve. Alas, for the wife of my bosom!
Well can I say, with one who, perhaps,
has loved and mourned like me;