Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, May 20, 1846, Image 1

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X graoillg actuopaper—llttottZt to etiterat Entellfgence, abUertfoilig, Volttico, ;Literature, ftioratitg, Xrto, Aticttcco,ngrfcitltutr, antuocintitt, Scr.,Szt.
Ia Z W COno ZtUE, Y3al). CIEI3.
The "JurtiorAL" will be published every Wed
ncsday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 60.
No subscription received for a shorter period than
six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
rearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be
inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
given as to the time an advertisement in to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
7 -
V. B. PALMER, Esg., is authorized to act
as Agent for this paper, to procure subscriptions and
advertisements in Philadelphia, New York, Balti
more and Boston.
Philadelphia --Number 69 Pine street.
Ballinsore—S. E. corner of Baltimore and Cal
vert strecti.
New Yorlc—Number 160 Nassau street.
Boston—Number 16 State street.
She come in Spring, when leaves were green,
And birds sang blithe in bower and tree,
A stranger, but her gentle mien
It was a calm delight to see.
In every motion grace was hers ;
On every feature sweetness dwelt ;
Thoughts soon became her worshippers—
Affections soon before her knelt.
She bloom'd through all the summer days,
As sweetly as the fairest flowers,
And till October's softening haze,
Came with its still and dreamy hours.
So calm the current of her life,
So lovely and serene its flow,
We hardly mark'd the deadly strife
Disease forever kept below.
But Autumn winds grew wild end chill,
And pierced her with their icy breath ;
And when the snow on plain and hill
Lay white, she passed, and slept in death.
Tones only of immortal birth
Our momory of her voice can stir
With things too beautiful for earth
Alone do we remember her.
She came in Spring, when leaves were green,
And birds sang blithe in bower and tree,
And flowers sprang up and bloomed between
Low branches and the quickening lea.
The greenness of the leaf is gone,
The beauty of the flower is riven,
The birds to other climes have flown,
And there's an angel more in Heaven,
From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier.
BY i. lIENDEBSON, 111. D.
It was my lot, in early life, to be thrown into the
company of POMO of the first white settlers of the
Valley of the Juniata, and to hear many tales of
the " hair-breadth 'scopes," and thrilling incidents,
which befell these hardy adventurers in the desultory
warfare which they had waged with the aborigines
of the soil, who, in their turn, for the wrongs inflict
ed upon them, sought not justice, when they well
knew it was not to ho found—but vengeance, un
compromising vengeance.
Whilst I have looked upon the Spring• which
bears an imperishable name, near to which once
stood the cabin . of Logan, the veritable author of
that sublime and simple appeal to the white mar.—
in which the utter desolation of a broken heart is
expressed, with a truth and a pathos that have touch- '
ed the lowest chord in the scale of human woe;—
or when the sound of the fall of a mighty oak, in
the stillness of the wood, has recalled to mind the
mournfully beautiful words of the dying Pushma
toile—how have I regretted that so few anecdotes
of these noblemen of nature have been preserved,
and that many of the most interesting events of
Border life, which tradition had imperfectly handed
down to the last generation, are destined to fade
away from the remembrance of that which is to
The ensuing narrative, in which I give the sub
stance of what I heard related, deserves to be re
corded as a rare example of disinterested love and
chivalrous generosity, in one of a people, whom, in
our youthful days, we were taught:to look upon
snore in the light of savage beasts than rational be
ings, endowed, like ourselves, with the image and
feelings of humanity.
Mr. J. Hall, a revolutionary soldier, and one of
the first settlers of Huntingdon county, frequently
related the following interesting incidents as having
occurred within his own knowledge, and connected
with the captivity and escape of a girl of the name
of Brotherton, who had been taken prisoner by a
predatory band of Seneka Indians, and carried to
their settlements on our northern frontier.
Two trappers on the Mushonnon were driven
from their camp, near the present town of Phillips
burg, by the advancing war party, and flying to the
nearest settlement on the Juniata, forewarned the
inhabitants of the impending danger. The fearful
*dings were carried by runners from house to house
and all, savo Brotherton and his daughter, sought
the protection of the Blockhouse, at the Standing
Stone, (now Huntingdon.) The fattier being ab
sent at the time, the heroic girl, resisting every en
treaty, absolutely refused to leave the house until
his return, which was every moment expected.—
And the rest of the family consisting of the mother
and several younger children, with the gloomy fore
bodings, were reluctantly compelled to leave her
behind. Brotherton did not return that night, and
early the next morning, the barking of the -dog ap
prized her that some one was near; and supposing
it to be tier father, she went out to meet him—was
seen, pursued, overtaken by the I nilians, who already
suspected that their approach had been discovered,
from the circumstance that several houses which
they had visited bore certain evidence'of the hasty
flight of then> late occupants, and loading them
selves with , the plunder thus acquired, made a pre
cipitate retreat through the mountains.
They were immediately pursued by all the dis
posable force at the Standing Stone, which Brother
tor, arrived in time to join. The party was headed
by an old hunter, who, following the trail with the
instict of the bloodhound, came egos the place of
their first night's encampment, which was amongst
the laurels of Tapey's Mountains. On the follow
ing day, in tracing their footsteps over some boggy
ground, they remarked with pleasure that the slight
shoes of Misi Brotherton, (as they noticed with
pain had been worn through on the preceding day,)
were now replaced by a substantial pair of mocas
sins. After this discovery, the leader of the party,
a man experienced in the warfare and customs of
the Indians, proposed a consultation, and addressing
himself to Brotherton, the one of all the party most
deeply interested, advised him that on his daughter's
account it would be the most prudent to & iv° up the
pursuit, as it was now evident that they meant to
treat her kindly; that if overtaken, and finding
themselves encumbered with the prisoner, they
would put her to death rather than that she should
fall into their hands. This prudent counsel happily
prevailed, and they returned to the settlement.
Little is known of the proceedings afterwards,
except the instances related by Miss B. of their ex
treme vigilance and caution, to baffle pursuit, and
avoid surprise. Such as when ascending a moun
tain, if a stone was moved, they would turn round
and replace it; and in the stillness of the night,
when a noise was heard, as of some one treading
upon a dead stick, their pipes were instantly laid
aside, and their fires put out, and not a word was
spoken until it was light enough to resume their
noiseless march.
Our heroine is represented to have possessed
much rustic beauty, and attractiveness of manner,
and although sho had scarcely reached the full
bloom of womanhood, previous to her captivity,
more than ono aspirant to her hand, had already
paid his homage to her charms.
After remaining upwards of a year in the family
of a chief, as an adopted daughter, Oron, a distin
guished young warrior, became deeply enamored of
her, and with every demonstration of the most ar
dent affection, offered her marriage.
His suit was mildly but firmly rejected. Some
time afterwards he sought and obtained a private
interview, at which he told her he hnd plainly dis
covered that the white dove, (a name by which he
was pleased to call her) loved the hills and the val
. lies of her own clear stream,t better than the lakes
and plains of the red man—and that she was pining
at heart after the friends she had left behind her.—
That however much the rejection of his suit had
grieved him, to be the daily witness of her unhap
piness distressed him still mores And that his ob-
ject in seeking the present interview, was to propose
a scheme for her deliverance.
After enjoining upon her the utmost caution, that
nothing in her conduct or demeanor might lead to
a suspicion of her intended flight, he appointed to
meet her at a well known spot, a few miles from
the village, on the midnight of a certain day. And
to lull suspicion to rest, II few days previous to the
appointed time, he intimated an intention (a not
unusual occurrence) of taking a hunting expedi
tion of several weeks duration.
Faithful in his engagement, the young chief, pro
vided with everything required for such an under
, taking, set out with his interesting charge, on the
way to her long regretted home. Nor did he relax,
night or day, in the most unremitting attention to
her comfort or convenience, throughot this long and
dreary journey.
At night fall after kindling her fire, ho spread her
couch of forest leaves with the softest ponds of the
fern, over which, upon the rude forks which his
tomahawk supplied him; Ito erected a canopy of
hernia& boughs, to protect her from the chilly
dews of the night. A dressed bear skin and blan
ket afforded her all the additional comfort required
after the fatigues of the day, to ensure ber a night's
repose both profound and refreshing. When these
simple preparations for the night were completed,
he partook with her of the frugal repast which his
knapsack or his rifle had furnished him, and then
with the true delicacy of the most refined feeling,
he retired to take the short repose which nature re
quired, at a respectful distance.
* lt was near the close of September, on the last
day of their weary march, that the warrior and the
maiden stood upon the summit of a ridge which
overlooked the cottage of her parents, the blue
smoke from which could be seen now coding up
wards amidst the trees. Spread abroad befPre
eyes was a scene rich in picturesque and quiet
beauty. The last rays of the setting stirs were res
ting upon the summits of the hills, whilst the deep
valleys between were darkening in the shadows of
gaC) z , C.102:341.
evening. The soft low murmurings which rose
upon the breeze wow sent up by the beautiful Ju
niata, glimses of which could be seen, as it flashed
in light, through various openings between the hills,
until it was lost to sight in the dark defiles of the
distant mountains. Pointing to the residence of
her parents, the Indian thus addressed the fair
captive :
" Oran can go no farther! The friends of the
white dove are still the mortal foes of the red man :
She now stands amidst her native hills, and looks
down upon the scenes of htr childhood. Oran
would not have an unwilling bride: he has there•
fore brought her hem, that she may make her final
choice in sight of the wigwams of her people.—
Will she return with him to be the happy mistress
of his heart and home, or send him forth a lone
wanderer into the wilderness'!" Pointing to the
setting sun, he continued :---" See! the Great Spir
it of Light will soon hide his face behind the moun
tains, and the earth will be dark and sad; but to
morrow he will look egain from the East, and ail
that live will rejoice in his beams. So, if the white
dove will hide her face, Oran's heart will be dark
and sorrowful, and if she return not, the sun will
again shine—but never more for him."
He then sat down and covered his face with his
Deeply impressed with gratitude for such diein- I
terested love and generosity, in which there was
perhaps mingled somewhat of a more tender senti
ment, the maiden hastened between the most con
flicting emotions, whirls at ono time inclined her to
return with him, when the thoughts of her parents
and the deep distress at the indelible disgrace of
such a connexion, # first caused her to falter in her
choice, and finally to resolve on bidding adieu to
her generous lover.
Oran received the announcement of her final de
cision in silence—nor did he again speak: she saw
that he tried to speak, but could not. After pressing
her hand to his throbbing heart, and pointing to the
earth and to the heavens, he disappeared in the
shades of the forest, and she never saw him more.
Miss Brotherton never could relate this—the clos
ing scene of her adventures—without shedding
many tears.
Somo years afterwards, when commissioners were
appointed by the State authorities to hold a treaty
with the hostile tribes of the Six Nations for the
ransom of prisoners, the father of Miss Brotherton,
who felt grateful for the kindness of the generous
Indian, and wishing to return him a suitable recom
pense, ordered a rifle to be made, in the construc
tion and ornamenting of which, no expense was to
be spored, and as Mr. Hale observed, it was just the
kind of trinket on Indian would glory in the'pos
sess ion of.
The rifle was sent out as a present from the young
woman, with a friendly message to her quandom
lover, to the effect that she would ever remem
ber, to the most heartfelt gratitude, his generous de
votion, nod pray to the Great Spirit, who was the
common parent of both the white and the red races,
for hie prosperity and happiness; and that if they
were never to see each other again in this world, she
trusted they would meet once more in those delight.
ful abodes provided for the good of all nations and
colors in the world to come. But all: how did
she grieve to hear, that after his return from the Ju
niata, he appeared not as ho was wont to do, but
seemed gloomy and dejected, and soon afterwards
fell, covered with wounds, in a reckless assault upon
a camp of the Hurons, with whom his people were
at war.
0 Near Brown's Mills, Mifflin County, Pa.
t Tho Indian namo (by interpretation) of the
4: No ono not personally conversant with the
first settlers, can conceive of the horror and digest
with which such a connection was loolickupon.
A BEAUTIN-A correspondent of the N. York ;
Tribune, writing from Texas, gives the following
interesting items in the history of one of ltha Texas
• An amusing anecdote of Houston has been told
me by a man, who in his own person witnessed the
truth of it. While Houston was with the Chero
kee Indians at the time that ho abandoned his wife,
and turned his back, as ho said, upon civilization,
he was married to a daughter of oup of the Chiefs
of the Nation. In his sullen pride he discarded
the robes of civilized life, and covered his naked
ness with skins and blankets.,, Ho visited the tra
ding houses with the Indians, and refused to hold
any intercourse with the whites, except through an
interpreter. When addressed in his native lan
guage, he would grunt out sonic Indian guttural,
with as much grave simplicity as an Indian himself;
and then he would sit wrapped in a buffalo rug, and
hold long conversations through an interpreter. In
ono of his visits to the trading houses, he like the
other Indians, drank too deeply of the fire-water.
While under the influence of liquor, he committed
an offronce,which seriously offended his spouse. The
consequence was a blow-up in the morning, and this
child of the woods revenged upon him the wrongs
of her white predecessor, who waited his return in
the sad silence of her deserted home. Houston then
left Askonsas, and moved to the Red Lands of
Texas, and there associated himself with another
branch of tho same nation. From among these,
ho took unto himself another wife, in the enjoy
ment, of whose charms he forgot his recent sorrows
I and misfortunes. At the breaking out of the war
ho emerged from his semi-barbarous state to head
the armies of Texas.
The s)ead Letter Office;
The Washington correspondent of the Portland
Argus furnishes the following interesting descrip
tion of the operations of that branch of the General
Post Office Department to winch are transmitted all
the uncalled for letters remaining in the various
Post Offices throughout the Union
Among the places which I have visited, is the
Dead Letter Office, in the Post Office Department.
It is certainly an interesting part of that bonding.
You will be surprised at some farts I learned there.
The business of the dead letter office alone employs
four clerks all the time. One opens the bundles
containing the letters sent to Washington, from the
several post offices, after they have been advertised
and no owner found for them. He posses the let
ters over to two other clerks, who open them all, to
see if they contain any thing valuable. If they
do not, they are thrown on to a pile on the floor.—
No time is allowed to rend them, as that would be
imposible, without a great addition of help. The
number of dead letters returned to the General
Post Office is astonishingly large. You will be
surpri. d when I tell you that it is fourteen hun
dred thousand, and under the cheap postage system
is increasing I Hence it requires swift hands to
open so large a number, without stopping to read a
word. Any one who is so silly as to write a mess
of nonsense to nn imaginary person, supposing it
will ultimately read by some one, may save him
self the trouble hereafter. Ile may depend upon
it, not n word will be likely to be read of the letter,
unless he encloses something valuable in it; end
that would be paying too dear forso small a whistle.
At the end of each quarter, the letters that have
been opened' having accumulated to a large mass,
and having been in the meantime stowed into bags,
are carried out on the plains, and there consumed
in a bonfire. The huge bags make five or six cart
loads each quarter.
The letters containing any thing valuable, or in
fact any matter enclosed, are passed over to a fourth
clerk, who occupies a separate room for the purpose,
and there are canvassed by this gentleman. It is
very interesting to examine the heterogeneous ma
terials of this room, that have been extracted from
letters, and accumulating for years. here you see
the singular matters that are sometimes transported
through the post office. The amount of moneys
that at various times has (seen found in late., is
very large. When any thing of value, as money,
drafts, &e., is found, the rule is, to retorts it to the
post office whence it came, and the postmaster of
that office must advertise it, or use any other means
best calculated to find the owner. If all his efforts
Nil, ho returns it to the General Office, and it is
labelled and filed away. Sometimes as much as
$3OO are found in a week, in dead letters I I think
within this month several hundreds have been found.
An iron chest is kept for the purpose of these de
. posites. In looking over the files in that chest, I
was astonished at the amount of money there, and
the largo sums contained in some of the letters.—
Some single letters containing $5O, $4O, $lO, and
down to $l. Ono letter contained a £lO note—
very likely the property of some poor emigrant,
(intended for his wife or children,) who had made
a mistake in sending it, and no olvner could be
Among this money is a good deal of counterfeit.
The letters are all labelled, not only with the sums,
but also whether containing counterfeit or good
money. There were many had small bills scattered
through tho piles. In one case there was a bad
half eagle--in another were two letters, each con
taining $3OO counterfeit money! It was on some
Nets' York bank, new, and very nicely done—an.l
was, doubtless, the remittance of one counterfeiter
to another—who had been in the meantime upper-
Irended, or was suspicious he was watched, and
hence had been too cunning to call for the wicked
deposits of his confederate. In the strong box,
firers was a box of change, of all kinds, and a large
string of rings of various fancies and values, taken
from the dead letters. Many a love token o2his
modest kind enveloped in a letter couched in most
honied words, and intended in mind of lire writer
for the dearest girl in the universe, had, instead of
reaching its interesting destination, brought up in
the dead letter office, passed through the hands of
LOVE.-..—The fulloa ivy beautiful sentiments OTC
these cold, grey-haired clerks, who never stopped
from the pen of Harriet Martineau, n maiden lady,
to read the tender effusion thatcost so much racking
verging, it is believed,
on her
of the , heart-strings—and the delicate v
• led - e of I Whether she has experienced the feeling so eh,-
affection had been tossed into the iron chest, instead
fluently and beautifully described, we know not,
of encircling the taper finger of " the love"
f " ; but we have rarely art; with so delightful a picture
whom it was purchased. as she has drawn. A cotemporary truly remarks
But trussing out of the chest, the matters that
n .
tn t " her sentiments are pure and hearty, end to
meet your eye on the shelves and hi the eases are
realize them in their fulness is like revelling among
equally interesting. Hero are books, and ribbons, !
the roses of life.?' " The:r needs no other proof,"
and gloves, and hosery, and is thousand other things.
she says,
rr that happiness is the most wholesome
I saw one specimen of a most splendid ribbon, of I
moral atmosphere, and that in which the immortal
several yards, that seemed very much out of place
ity of mall is dentinal ultimately to thrive, than the
here--when it was intended to adorn the bonnet et'
elevation of seal, the religious aspiration which at
some lady. A package lay near that had not been
tends the first assurance, the heat sober certainty of
opened. It was front Fngland. The postage was
true tree. The statesman is the leader of a nation;
$8 63. It had been refused at the office where
warrior is the
age ; the
sent, because of enormous postage, and sent to the
is the birth of a thousand years; bet the lover—
dead face in due course of time. Now, said the
where is he 7101 Wherever parents look round
Superintendent, I will show you what valueless
upon their children, there he has been; wherever
things are sent through the mails, in comparison to
children aro at play together, there he seen will be;
their expense. Ido not know what is in this, but ;
wherever there are roofs under which men dwell—
we will see. So he opened tt, and behold, it eon- ,
wherever there is an atmosphere vibrating wills
tained about a yard of course cloth, like crash,
human voices, there is the lover, and there is his
worth perhaps a shilling, which had been sent to lofty worship going but revealed
some dry goods house in this country, as a specimen in the brightness of his eye, the majesty of the
or the manufacture of the article, by some factory rcse e iot,e niiu
nco,acnodtnhtte and
rattyi.ghtetntier, '
f the discourse.—
in England. Of course, the postage being thirty I.
homage amidst the meditations ,r of etinue
eve send up
its . u
every even.
times its value, it was refused by those to whem it tid e , a nd the busy hum of noon and the songs of
was directed. I saw two night caps that were talif it morning stars.
from a letter only a few days since. If the poor
Inflow to whom they were sent does not sleep in a
night cap until he gets these, his head will be cold.
It is impossible for the Department to attend to
finding owners fur the comparatively rainless things
that are received ; on night caps, ribbons, garters,
stockings, stays, bootleg, &e., &c., and they are
therefore thrown into the receptacle of " things lost
to earth," and a pretty " kettle of fish" there is in
that receptacle, you may depend.
In the cases, arranged and labelled for the pur
pose, are the legal documents found in lettere.—
These aro numerous, and run back fora long term
of years. They are most carefully preserved. The
beneficial policy of this preservation has been often
illustrated, and most strikingly so, only the other
day. A gentleman in a distant state wrote to the
superintendent that some seven or eight years ago
a large package of the most valuable papers lied
been lost through the post office. They involved
the right to a large estate. If he could not Cod
them he would be irretrievably ruined, and begged
him to search in the department for them. DP did
so. He told me that the first cane he came to, uni
der a pile of other paper., he now a large package,
answering the description. He took it out, and it
was the very papers wanted. They had slept there
quietly for years. The postage was about ten dol
, larn—anil they lead originally, by some mistake,
failed of their rightful owner. The package had
been carefully preserved and the owner was pectr
li niarily saved.
Marrying in run.
The Legislature of New York hos refused to on- I
nul the marriage of Miss Lillie, who, it will be re- I
collected, stood up and was married during a sleigh- 1
ing frolic. It is hard, but just. A ceremony of
such importance is not a fit subject for mockery.—
As she married at haste, she must repent nt leisure.
The facts of the case are simply these, and they
should operate as a caution to all in future not to
practice such jests on a very serious subject. The I
parties were on a sleighing frolic with several
friends, and in going out a marriage was proposed
between the two parties in a jocose manner when
they arrived at the public house, but the lady was
cautioned, that if she stood up to be married it
would held good in law, and she replied, "why of
course." A Justice of the Peace was called in, and
informed that his judicial services were required,
but finding all the parties full of mirth and
glee, he admonished sobriety becoming the occasion,
and they promised to behave more decorously.—
The parties thereupon got up again on the floor,
and Mr. Hall said to Miss Lillie—"are you willing
to get married I" alto said rt yes." They stood on
the floor, and Mr. Diamond and Miss Robbins stood
np with them. The justice said to' the whole corm
pany, "if I marry you, there is no undoing,' think."
He then asked Miss Lillie the following question
" Miss Lillie, ere you willing to get married!"—
Perfectly willing," she answered. He then said
to Mr. Hall, "are you willing to join in maid
ninny T" Mr. Hall hung his head and did not an
swer. The question being again repented', he re
plied, "yes, sir." The justice then, after again
asking Mies Lillie the question before propounded
to hoc and receiving the same answer, pronounced
them man and wife. Mr. Hall, the gentleman mar
' lied. asked for a certificate, and Miss Lillie said she
thought she was entitled also to one, which wore
made out, the marriage regularly published in the
papers, and the justice received six dollars for his
trouble. The parties, an arriving at home, separa
ted, and the next morning Mr. Hall called on Miss
Lillie, and she desired him to get her out of the
scrape, as she was assured they could not live hap
pily together. The Senate Committee, on hearing
the facts, unanimously reported against the bill :
so the lady must be content to stay married.—N.
E Sun.
lecnnit of lire " ilfarringe in F 1177."
Tho Albany citizen, of Monday, says the matter
has been finally settled as follows:
„ Visa Lillie and Mr. Hall, whose applicntien for
divorce has occupied much of the time of the Leg
islature, were married last evening, in the South
Pearl street Baptist Church.”
' , .).."ZeactpLicts.SN...7o). c)
My Uncle, the Parson---or the effect
of Led Pepper.
The 14 irticrhocker contains a capital story, by
.folin Warm, of which the following is the cunclu-
At the dinner table oar " parson" takes a bottle
of cayenne pepper from his pocket, to season his
meat with.
The two fitrmers were attentive to all his move.
menu. The addition of the sauce when there wan
such n full supply of gravy in the dish, seemed t o
them merely nsuperfluity ; butthe exploring genius
of Ajax Telamort was irresistahly excited' by the
pepper, a condiment that was altogether new to
him, and perceiving that the effect was grateful and
appetizing, " Pray, sir," said he, would you have
the goodness to let me taste n little of that rut
" With pleasure," replied the Parson, " but V
must apprbe you that this is pepper, and not eels
pepper of the strongest force, that ! received from a
friend in the tropics," and, mid he, handing it to
him, " a very few grains will go a great way."
A half derisive glance at the site of my uncle and
then at his own portly figure, seemed to intimate
that he thought the caution very little worthy of
notice by a man of his cuticular inches. He rap
ped the bottle on the side as he had seen the parson
loosen the grains of his fiery stimulant, applied it
in the same way, but without the same caution, la
his gravy, and used it freely with his meat.
The pepper was not long in making his acquain
tance, but ho resisted manfully the first intimations
of his internal arsuilant ; hemmed stoutly and re
peatedly to maintain his ground, his face then be
came scarlet; an unnatural warmth' took possession
of his frame; the tonsils of his throat began to
swell; his eyes glistened, lie dashed away a tear
from his obstructed eight, spread abroad his arms
like Sampson groping for rite remaining pillars of
the temple of Gaza, and rose in agony of distress
and pain, unimaginable to him in hisdreams before.
Ills first note was that of a brindled bull in his own
cattle yard at home. The word roar den no jug
tics whatever to the sound.
Fortunately he did not cough! My uncle con
cerned at the incident, recommended him to allay
the pungency with a glass of water. He caught as
the word. He endeavored to say, Will that put
it out?" and made for a large jog that had been re
plenished, he raised it boldly to his lips, and took
draught, that had its contents been mote gentle,
might for its freer, breadth and depth and height,
have won from Bacchus, the whole conquest of the
Indies. •
"Jededialt" snid he, as soon as he could articu
late, ‘, for the lan's sake does my mouth blaze?"
g , No," said the other, with impertubable cool
noes, " but it smokes consumedly, Hiram, I tell
Another jar of water seemed to reassure him of
his safety against internal combustion; and his
powers of speech in some measure returning, and
with them his entire self possession, ho strode in
front of my uncle. mid accosted him :
"Do you know mider,that I took you for ft parsonl'
am, indeed," said my uncle, an humble mem.
ber of the cloth."
" 0 you be, lie you ? And do you think it la
any how consistent with your culling to travel
about the country in this hero way, carrying hell-fire
in your breechee ?"
r once heard a young lady say to an individual,
" Your countenance to me is like the shining of the
sun, for it always gladdens me with a cheerful look,"
A merry or cheerful countenance was one of the
things which Jeremy Taylor said his enemies and
persecutors could not take away from hint. There
are some persons who spend their lives in this world
as t'iey would spend their time if shut up in a dun
geon. Every thing is made gloomy and forbidding.
They go mourning and complaining from day to
day, that they have so little, and are constantly any
ious that what httle they have should escape out of
their hands. They look alwnys upon the dark Fide,
and can never enjoy the good that is present, for the
fear of the evil that is to come. This is not religion.
Religion makes the heart cheerful, and when its
large and benevolent pi inciples are exercised, men
will be happy in spite of themselves.
The industrious her does not stop to complain
that there are so many poisonous flowers and thorny
branches in his road, and buzzes on, selecting the
honey where he can find it, end passes quietly by
the places where it is not. There is enough in this
world to complain about and find fault with, if men
have the disposition. Wo travel often in u Mott
uneven road, but with a cheerful spirit, and a heart
to praise God for his mercies, we may walk therein
with great comfort and reach the end of our journey
in peace
Give ine a calm and thankful heart,
From- every marmur free ;
The hlossingd of thy grace impart,
And make me live to thee.'
A NEW rt.llL RO 11.—" Ship-ahoy ! Where
are you from !" " Prom the sky," replied the skip
! per who was hailed. '• How did you COlllO from
there 1" " I greased the seat of my trowsers and
slid down on a rainbow."
c 6. T. cure your love thr one girl, ju s t full its
love aids another. ha the only antidote. For ens
I affection thaws another out—as leaser pain. ate by
the gout