Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, September 20, 1854, Image 1
BY WM. BREWSTER. TERMS : The igivx•rtsapox JOURNAL' is published at the following rates If paid in advance $1,50 If paid within six months after the time or subscribing 1,75 If paid at the cud of the year 2 MO And two dollars and 110 canto if not paid till aftertlic expiration of the year. No snliscription will he taken for a lens period than nix months, and nopeper will he discontinued, except nt the option of the Editor, until all arrearages ere paid. Subscribers living in diluent counties,or in oth. r States, will be required to pay invariably in advance. Gr The above terms will be rigidly naffed to in all eases. ADVERTISEMENTS l emir Will be charged at the fidlowing rates: ! We tumbled to the forecastle in a body, and irt 2 i° s "' T )7 : i ' 1 ;: r ; for hours after, the captain walked the deck big Six lines or less, One square r -(16 line..) 50 75 lou with his achievement. Two ." (32 4 . ) 100 150 200 We had light baffling winds for many days. Three (ts " ) 1 50 225 300 . the temper of* captain grew perfectly say. Business men advertising by the Quartet, Hall I Tear ur Year, will be charged the following rates: j age. By•an-by came a calm and he was a 3 me. 6 ma. 12 mo. ', complete madman. Ile stoma and swore One square, $3 00 $5 00 $8 00 .. 500 BOu 12 00 j from morning till night, and "hazed" us all, Two squares, Three square., 750 10 00 15 00 ! from the cabin boy up to the mate. Our al. Four squares, 900 14 00 23 00 i lowance of meat was worse than ever, and he Fire squares, 15 00 25 00 38 00 Ten squares ; stopped the grog. altogether, and put us on 2, Business ' sOO 40 00 to no Canis not exceeding six lines, one I half allowance of water, under pretence that year, $4 on. !he feared to rim short if the calm lasted. But JOB WORK sheet handbills, 30 copies o. le., 16 It C 6 • If CC CC CC 66 6C BLASR4, foolscap or leis, per single quire, 1 50 i 4 or more quires, per .` 1 00 er Extra charges will be made for heavy' corn pi Gir All letters on business must be Post PAID to secure ut tendon. C.:!) j uice 41oettn. 0, HAD WE ONLY MET DT ASIELIA 11. WELLS. o,.hud we only met When life and hope was new; Whoa love, uurningled with regret, Lay on our hearts like dew,- 1 hail not heaved a sigh, When wrapt in that sweet trance, I rai.ed rny own and net thy eye, Returning glance liar glance. 0, do not prize me lest, For yielding to that power, The soft, delicious dreaminess, That filled the twilight hour, I thought it's spell were thine, Around thy spirit wove, And half forgot it was not mine To give thee love for lore. Love! Did! call it love? It will no. bear the name! A softer thought our IMUI. move, A tender, adder (lame I I feel it in the to`tie' '' That thrilled thy low reply, As thy warm lip beside my own, Responded sigh fur sigh. I love thee not, hut uh If we had'lllvt in youth, When first we dreamed of passion's glo, Its fewer and its truth, Perhaps it had been mine, With whispers soft and low, To place my little hand in thine, And murmur vuw for vow. Dear one ! for dear thou art, Thou know'st it is not thine, To lift the veil from this deep teart, Nor yet to gaze in thine ; But oh I were 1 to speak of all I hole• and fear, Even thou would scarcely deem it weak, To give toe tear for tear. Cyil *lit4. A LEAP FOR LIFE. -.- or WILLIAM MURTON. Afier my discharge from the hospital at , rune, 1 shipped in the American barque Inde. peudence, Captain Robert I.—, bound to Valparaiso, and then round the Horn to the Western coast of North America. She was large vessel dome seven hundred tuna regi, ter, with a handsome poop, top gallantforeens. tie and all other points of a flash ship. The captain was a native of Jersey, and the crew were a mixture of Americans, British and Span iards, with a sprinkling of woolpheads or .onote.holls," as we called the negroes. We had not been a week out, ere very great dissatisfaction prevailed among the crew, for the captain, with unaccountable perversity, did nut allow us half enough junk (i. e. salted beef) to our meals; and' ven what we did get, was what sailors call "old horse," viz: hard, tough, lean, stingy stuff, devoid of nourishment. The usual allowance of junk on shipboard is one pound and a half for each man per dicta; but I am sure we did nut get more than one.half that quantity. Thu captain used to come on deck every morning, and stand by the steward as he weighed out the junk front the "harness cask," to see that we did not get an ounce over what he had ordered. On the other hand, this captain allowed us thrice us much grog us is usual. But sailors, although very fond of rum, can't live upon it; and three-quarters of a pound of "old horse," and n few rotten biscuits, quite alive with weevils, tvntr• petedv:s rtrinlyapee for a hearty fellow. Oar first mato often remonstrated with the captain on his conduct, and plainly told him that the men would not submit to it; but the only reply the captain made was to tell him to mind what he was about, or he would "break him and haze him up," meaning that he would send the mate forward as a common sailor, and work him to death. At length, after a lor.g and fierce discussion in the forecastle, we all went forward one morning in a body, and con, plained tbrough•the carpenter, us a spokesman, that we had not enough to eat. Capt. L— listened without interruption, and then cooly turned around and said— "Steward, go down into the cabin, and bring me pistols." We looked at each other in silenec. it, a c,,rlc of minute: the ,t,wari retumd b'oll . 7 • .tt lilting , • -tj i'ht • • '''' ' ''.'. I NEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WINO PARTY OP THE UNITED STATEN."-[WEBSTER. with the pistols, and with a titce as pale as death, handed them to the captain. The Int. ter cooly placed them both on full cock, and laying them side by side on the top of the bin• uncle, crossed his arms, and glared round at • every soul of us ere he spoke. "Now, men," cried he at length, between his teeth, "all I've got to say is, that you are ink. taken if yon think you are going to get the up. per hand of me. I am your captain, and the law gives me power to do what I like. You didn't ship to bully me. Go for and to your duty, and the first wan that hesitates, or gives me any jaw, shoot him ON I would a pig. when the breeze sprung up at the expiration of tour days; our allowance remained, the same —half meat, half water, and no grog! The sailors grew half desperate, and curses both loud and deep were bandied front math, to mouth, and indistinct menaces muttered. Ryan-by it became whispered in the ship that the captain had had a coukde.soliel, or suwstroke, beVe leaving Havana, and that he had drank f- 13, ever since, awl SI 25 I 50 drank fret, : . was rouse. quently really insane to a curtain extent. This would explain his conduct, and we all were in clined to accept it us the proper solution; hut the captain had certainly never yet committed any act which would legally he held proof of insanity: for all that he did, though highly ern. el and tyruntliml was within the bounds of that fearful amount of almost irresponsible power that Ow law allows to act captains. We had been three weeks out, when it was lay morning to watch on deck. Six bells (7 u'• clock) had just been struck, and 1 was engn• ged ceiling away the line of the log, which had been hove by order of the mate, then in charge of the deck, when Captain L unexpect• edly came out of the cabin. I noticed that be Lad a wild, nervotta look, for be glanced around and aloft, just us a man might do when arous• ed from in dream. "What's the course?" he abruptly demanded of the man at the wheel. South east by east, sir." The captain then stepped up to the binnacle and looked at the compass,—turning round with an oath, he struck 'the man with a blow in the mouth that knocked him ttwity front the wheel, and thundered— •• You take the spokes in hand! You know uo more about steering than your mother." (Such were the exact words, for I distinctly remember them.) The poor fellow, who was one of the best helmsmen in the ship, took hold of the spokes again, the blood trickling down his chin, and muttered— "1 was steering to a hairs•brcadth." "What's that you say?" '•I say I was steering as well as any man could and you're a—tyrant, captain." The eaptaitt's face grew black with passion, and the light foam new front his lips, as he screamed— "Mr. Jackson, clap this fellow in irons! No, seize hint up—make a aprcad•caple of hint!— I'll teach him to too the mark!' The mate, Jackson, in vain attempted to soothe the mad man, who compelled his officers to "seize up" the unfortunate sailor; that is, to lash his wrists to the shrouds, with his back bare for punishment. This is called making a "spread•eagle." I dare not dilute on the sick. ening scene that ensued. Suffice it that the captain, with his own hand, Hogged the man most brutally in presence of all hands, and not a soul of us dared to speak. That night we all signed a round robin," that is, a paper stating grievance, or petition, with the names written in a circle, so that no one could be pitched upon as the ring leader— addressed ua the chief mate, filming that we all felt our lives were not safe in the hands of the captain, as he was obviously insane, and re• questing the mate to take command of the ship, and place the captain in coohinetnent. We sent this to Mr. Jackson by one of the boys, and iu a quarter of an hour the mate came forward. "Men," said he do you know what you are about? You are in open mutiny—and you know abet the penalty fur that is. For God's sake let us have no more of this. Captain -.•••••••-- is captain and hie will is law. We must all submit to it. Were I to do my duty strictly,l should show this, pointing, to the round robin, to the captain; but I don't want to make matters worse. Let us go to port, and then complain 119 you please. But for your own sake—and for my sake—don't mu• tiny. We all respect the mate, and his words made, a great impression. We consulted together, and the prudence of the majority overcame the fierce impulse of the bolder spirits. It was, howeverOacitly understood, that if matters grwworse, we would risk the dreadful pelt• alty of mutiny by seizing the captain, for we now consider he was undoubtedly insane al though the mate acted rightly enough in bold. ing aloof at present, as the captain bad not yet evinced himself incapable of managing the ship. Whether any whisper had leaked out in the cabin, through the steward of officers, I can. not tell, but the captain had undoubtedly sus pected what hod passed. At noon the next day he came on deck, with as double barrelled 1 1 gun in his hands and deliberately loaded it with ball in our presence. When be had done this, be called all hands all, and in language that sufficiently indicated, from its incoherency, tail hC alts undrryttedly 111.:ar", 34jrtil:e4 HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1854. the crow, winding; up with the words— " You think to get the upper hand of me do you ?" You will mutiny—you will take the ship nwny from me? I'll make an example— show you whom you have to deal with ! Mr. Jackson let those two men be seized up this minute, thr I'll make spread•c4,zlos of 'cm sure as I live." As he spoke the captain pointed to two n; tha nearest men—one an American, the other an Englishman. These poor fellows looked round at their messmates and seeing how us. decided all were, they suddenly sprang into the rigging—running aloft for safety. The captain's eyes glared like a wild beast's he seized his gun and shouted— `• Come down this moment, both of ye, or I'll shoot ye I" They saw the threatening movement, and heard the command t but this only caused them to run up higher and higher. Twice the cap tain hailed them ; and then he raised his piece, and as quick as lightning levelled and fired. A burst of execration from us all followed for the ball had struck the Huglishruan, and broke his log. He fell like a wounded bird into the main top, and screamed in agony. Oh, God what have you done, Captain 1,-?" exclaimed the horronatricken mute. "You have committed murder;" "No, I helve not," answered the captain. " I ordered the follow down, and if he won't obey. it's mutiny, and the law will justify me in killing hint, or :tilling you either—so mind what you say." 'the mate turned aside, and then one of the eldest seamen whispered in his ear--" Say the word, sir, end we will clap the mid man in irons," he only shook his bead, and buried his face in his hands. Meanwhile the American, a fine young fel. low, known by the soubrequet of " Boston Bill," had ascended to the royal yard, and was look• lug down on deck to see what course 'natters were taking. The captain, not satisfied with disabling cur man, at this moment pointed his gun at hint, and hoarsely ordered him on deck, threatenintt to shoot hint if he refused. " Come down, luau, for heaven's sake:" re• pouted the mate. He will Hog me if I do, sir." "Fes, I'll flog you, sore enough," yelled the captain. "Then I will die before I come down!" Without another word, the captain commen ced taking a deliberate Mtn. and half a dozen yokes shouted to the man whose life was in this fearful jeopardy.--" Jump overboard, Bill, or you are a dead man! Jump for life !" In an instant the sailor ran along the foot rope, and clung to the royal yard-arm to lee ward. The alternative was indeed horrible. If be descended he would be flogged—if he re mained he would be shot—if be leaped over board from that dreadful height he ran the risk of being dashed to pieces if he fell sideways on the water, or of being snapped by a shark or drowned, let him fall which way ho would. The captain shifted his aim and his finger was on the trigger. " Jump, Bill, jump f' screamed his mess tunics and his resolution was taken. He would leap fin- life! Lowering himself front the yardarms with his hands, he pointed feet downward and clove the air with the velocity of a cannon-ball. A second or two, and he had disappeared in the curling green sea. The pent up excitement of the crew found vent at this moment. One party rushed on the captain, and disarmed and bound hint, whilst the rest put the helm down and threw the sails aback, to stop the motion of the ship, and sprang to the fall of the quarter-boat to lower away to pick up the American, should he rise to the surface. A breathless pause of very nearly a minute ensued, and then we beheld the head of the sailor emerge at the distance of a hundred yards; and being a capital water-dog, he struck out boldly for the ship, and amid a loud hurra was picked up. His " leap for life" had been successful. The other poor fellow who was shot aloft was lowered on deck in a sling. Ile woo more injured by the fall, than by the ball in his leg, and died the same night in extreme agony. • The mate now consented to take command of the Ship, and Captain L- was closely confined till we came to port. By that time he was raving niad, and he died within three days after being conveyed to the hospital ashore. Sam Slick on Courting. Courtin' a gal, I guess is like catchin' a horse in pustur. You put the oats in a pan, bids the halter, and soft sawder the critter, and it comes up softly and shyly at fast, and puts its nose to the grain, and gets a taste, stands off and munches a little, looks around to see if the coast is clear, and advances cautiously again, ready for ago if you are rough. Well, you softsawder it all the time; so so, pet! gently, pet! that's a pretty doll ! and gets it to kind of like it, and conies closer, and you think you have it, make a grab at its mane, and it ups head and tail, snorts, wheels short round, lets go both hind feet at you and is of like a shot. That comes or bein' in a hurry. If you had put your hand slowly towards its shoulder, ntid felt for the mane, it might perhaps have drawn away, as much as to any, hands of, if you please; I like your oats, but I don't want you, the chance is, you would have caught it. Well, what's your play now? you have missed it.— Why, you dott't give chase, for that only scares the critter, but you stand still, shake the oats in the pan, and say, cope, cope, cope, and it stops aud looks at you and conies up a gain, but awful skittish, stretches its neck over so far, steals a few grains. and then keeps a res pectful distance. Now, what do yon do then? Why, shake the pan and move slowly, us if you were going to leave the pasture and make fur hum ; when it repents or hole' so distrustful, comes up and you slip the halter on. 1181. You are a queer chiekon," es 514 when larcl:cd ` fris ctllancnus. [Published by rtsiuest, AMERICAN . ABROAD. 77er Me tliterrancon—Ciella reCeltia—Rome— The Caritul—The Coliseti6—and some reflection 3 there on ..11fterira', _future, Mn. rat /ITOR:—li.viiig tilled my last with some spoculations relative to the existingstrut gle of the stations, 1 promised to send you an other sheet, giving an easy and rapid sketch of some of illy foreign wanderings. Brevity for. bids the attempt to introduce your readers at once, to all the principal courts of Europe, to ita splendid polices sod picture galleries s to point ma its chief spots of enchanting scenery and hist uric ;Merest; to deicribe the costumes, architi,t, try, manners and customs of so many countries., os recount their hoary superstitions and roma utic legends. It wooldironsfer to the reader the feelings of which the traveller him. self son,ttintes complains, of bewilderment amid scenes, so strangely- and constantly vary. I ing. thirdly any portion of Crops, so dazzles the Westeen imagination with its classic remi niscences or its doubtful futnre, as atty.— Thither let um briefly conduct your readers: It was la tranquil night in -the month of March, and I was out on the passage from Mar seilles, where so shortly slim occurred that madam and fatal collision between two steam ers of the mine line. I knew the clangors of the Mediterranean, and nestled more closely under the wings of that Providence, which ex• tends alike over sea and land. Rippling over a surface, smooth as glass, and reflecting on its bosom, the glorious sky, our beautiful Ital ian steamer glides past the numerous islands, that bested our course. With the dawn, our eyes greet the dominions of the Pope, and at it, we enter the hark mr of Cieita mous the its impositions practiced un travel- lees; a notoriety which it seems net likeiy soon to forfeit. A young Bostonian who keeps I a journal of such matters, assures inn that tic ; has a large foolscap page filled with the vari ous items. Ready for every contingency, I sue cetded on passing through without coy essen- I t tie! diminution ofeomposure; but I really breath ed freer, when I found - myself off fur Rome— although the dilly., bad but a few nights previous been stopped and robbed outright. All ' the aftereuon our road lay along the coast south ward, and the only relief of the dreariness was some occasional cuouuneut of antiquity, orstrag gliug pnrtir.s of bandit-looking descendants of the Romans. At length we struck off inland, and having pursued our course quietly forsome hours, the revery in which I was sinking was suddenly broken by the postillien's shout aswe came upon the brow of a hid—Ross. All looked out, and the stars, ever young, were ga zing down just as they did when they looked on Cesar aim Romulus—as we dashed titre' the gate, passed the custom-house and found ourselves in the heart of the city. "So, here I am un the spot which occupied so much my boyish studies and youthful dreams," was the first thought of a waking consciousness the next morning: and I. hastened forth to the top of the Capitol, to gain a bird's eye view of the seven-billed city, with the Yellow Tiber rolling through and dividing ancient Latium from Et ruria—the city of the Ceasars, from the city of the I'opes. The Capitol itself contains attrac• Lions enough to make ono linger long—the I most striking of which are the Venus of the reserved cabinet; the brazen wolf, shattered by lightning in the hind legs, and thus shown to I be one, referred to by Cicero in the Catalineor ations—afterwards apostrophized by the Poet ''And thou, the thunder-stricken nurse of Rome! She-Wolf 1 whose hrazen-imaged dugs impart The milk of conquests." But the most touchingly interesting of all, is the Dying Gladiator; the anatomy of which Bell describes as perfect, and which grows lifelike under the description of Childe Harold: ‘ . l see before see the gladiator tie: He leans upon hi: hand—leis 111/114 brow— Consents to death—bat eonquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low" Then. as the inhuman shout bursts forth, to hail his conqueror: "li, heu,d it—but ho heeded not—his eyes Nye, i b his heart, and that was far mSay; lie it,kwl not of the Inn he lust nor prize. Its where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play— There was their Daeian mother"— From the Capitol to the Coliseum. once led the Via Sacra, which Horace speaks of in one of his satires as his favorite promenade: "Thom forte Via Sacra, slew( teens rot mos;" and ev ery step of the way seems so hallowed by clas sic associations, that one almost trembles for fear of disturbing the mighty dead. Graceful columns of decayed Temples rise up mournful ly around us. Here extended the Bomar} Fo rum, and here is the spot from which a Cicero thundered. Further on stands the arch of Ti tus, erected in commemoration of the destruc tion of Jerusalem .d on which is remounted a procesaion, bearing the spoils of the Temple amongst which may be recognized the golden table, the silver trumpets,and the seven-branch ed candlestick of massive gold, which, here up pears to be near a man's height; and which fell into the Tiber from the Milvian bridge in the flight of Maxentins, in the onslaught of Con stantine. Further on, and standing on the via triumplutlis, is the Arch of Constantine, erect ed to commemorate the victory just referred to, and ono of the most imposing monuments at Rome. But ancient Rome's crowning wonder, which it repays a pilgrimage to sue, and where the antiquarian Nimrod will be daily found in meditation, and perchance if he heed not rob• hers by moonlight too, now stands just before us—the Coliseum—a vast circular structure in four stories, one side of which is still perfect, rising away up agnittst the sky to the height of 157 feet—or just about as high as our own Niagara Fulls. By a series of staircases I had mounted to the highest point of this temple of heathendom. and gazing back on the dwindled firms below, scenes of the rusty Past rushed upon any view. Imagination reared again cclumns, ;ted prerl.•l the ous whole with limnen myriads, beds plebeian I and patririan—poured forth on their 11 , stal day to witness the struggle of one, who would not acknowledge the gods, with the wild beasts. There stands in the centre of the arena, the noble confessor of Christ—wasted and pale from confinement in the subterranean caverns, out of whirls ho has just been led— yet groat and undaunted; that noble brow raised to meet the gaze of the world, expres sive of something se superior to the brute for titude which braves inevitable calamity, that an involuntary murmurofapplause runs around that Roman Assembly. Shone yonder sun ever on a nobler triumph' of philosophy, nay of moral heroism? "Its not, ye toped Romans, a stoical indifference, which bares its neck to fine, nor is it the power of that arm, which shrinks not from an encounter with the Nu- bian lion, whose greedy roar is head ever and anon front within—which gives to that frail frame: a steady step and a brow undaunted. Those eyes are lifted to other scenes—they gaze on another cloud of witnesses, the army of prophets, apostles, martyrs, bending over to see ; those ears catch the accents of a Sa vior's voice: " Ile that conlesseth me before men, him will I also confess before my Fa ther and the angels in heaven." That calm and collected mein sends a thrill to the ex tremity of the guilty assembly—it seems to say, there is a sustaining power in this hated religion which we seek to banish from the earth, which arms one for grappling with the fiercest trials of life and death : and though, when mangled and faint from the loss of blood, I the moral hero sinks in the unequal (enact, —a smile of triumph lights up the pale features and seems to say, • See how a Chris tian can die I" A change comes over my dream. Eighteen centuries have fled—the race of bloody Romans has disappeared from these seats, and the empire of heathenism crumbled with her fates ; while the religion of the Nnzarine, once limble and persecuted, rind here attested by the blood of its martyrs, has risen in the ascendant—and like yonder sun, I ever westward in its course, has scattered on I every shore, the blessed proffers of tier tom, learning and civilization. Once more, stand- ing amid flu:departed greatness of that mighty Empire, whoseEngles overshadowed the known world—surveying at a glance the memorials of its former wealth and power—beholding where one stood the palace of the Users, but au indistinguishable Macs of rubbish—the scones are changed; and oserl,sping a continent end an ocean, I gaze in delighted fancy, on that glorious Republic, which had gathered to itself the oppressed of every land, and where ate salving for the race, the great principles of theoretic equality and representative selfgov ernment. t) the history of that republic—the result of that crisis—as it will be read eighteen centuries hence, how these eyes long to pry into. I look forward over hut a single yen tory of undisturbed union, peace and progress, and I see our federal government extending over a continent, and its population multiplied to a hundred millions of freemen. Meanwhile the people of other clinics, whose eyes are anxiously turned that way as they ace the pow er of those hallowed institutions to bless man kind, raise their drooping heads, shake off their chuckles and erect in every land, the home of freedom. But alas ! the dissonance of party agitation breaks on my ear—the sp,e tre ql disunion rises up to disturb the pleas ing prophecy ; and athwart the blood.wlitten history of states dissevered, beligerent, fratri cidal, I see a time when the traveller from other lands will conic to gaze on the relics of departed American greatness. My bruin reels before the dark foreboding—that unaccounta ble dizziness which sometimes gives persons standing on a great eminence a propensity to dash thetnselves over. fur this only time in my life, seizes me—and calling to my guide, hasten down frosts the dangerous spot. So much Mr. Editor, for ancient Rome; my nest is of Rome, Papal and modern. Adieu, LOWMAN. Opinions of Great len on Foreign In- Buence, Read what was said by these most eminent Presidents: Hear Gen. Washington: "Against the insiduous wiles of foreign intlu• cure, (I conjure you to believe me fellow•citi MAO the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly awake. It is one of the baneful foes of a Republican goverment." Listen to Thomas Jefferson hope we may find some means in future of sliding ourselves from foreign influenep— political, commercial or in whatever form it may be attempted. I wish there were an ocean of fire between this and the old world." Read front Madison: "Foreign influence is a Grecian horse to the Republic, wo cannot be too careful to exclude its entrance." Be warned by Gen. Jackson "It is time that we should become a little more Americanized; and instead of feeding the paupers and laborers of England, feed our own, or else, in a short time, by our present policy, we shall be paupers OUNOIYS." BAUM' SOM.—Horace fireely, it is well known, has taken to farming. Lest year, when in Massachusetts attending the poultry show, he bought half a dozen pure Cochin China eggs, Sti a dozen, ghieh produced him six ugly ducks. An editor from Maine, however, fared still worse. He bought half u dozen eggs of "a new varie ty," which the healer assured him would pro duce “very rare birds." So they did, for they were put under the very hest hen, and in due time came out—"what do you think?" •'1 could not guess," said his friend,—"what were they ?" "Land Turtles, and what woo worse, as soon as they were hatched; they seized upon the old hen, and such a squalling never was heard in any other hen's nest:' OW PreTzlent , . , I Don't Care if I do. I know you don't but somebody else do, -- Everybody ought to care. Everybody don't, and so you don't care, and that is what makes you so careless. In our short walk coming down Broadway the other night we heard that little sentence—.l don't rate if I do"—three times; and every time, we felt that if the speak. er did not care, somebody that he should care for, did care. There is no harm in the words, it is only in the tone, manner and meaning, and in the way they are applied. They had a meaning each time we heard them, and each time, advanced the speaker one step nearer the point—the point of—" I don't care if I do." Two gentlemen—of course they were, their tailors had pronounced them so—we pronoun ced one of them a black legged gentleman, the other wu knew to be what every body calls a gentleman. He is a gentleman merchant— a clerk in a dry goods store—a retailer of tape and calico: but it is a genteel business, and he is a gentleman of business. The other is a gentleman of leisure. Arm in arm they walk ed down Broadway, and when opposite a house with cut glass and colored poison, Leis ure says to Business—" Let's go in and take a drink." Business replied I don't care if I do." There was a young wife sitting alone in her ill-furnished, comfortless room athome—home ! No: at a cheap, can't•af'ord•any-better board ing house. She does care. For in that house, where her don't care husband went, there is a bar. and facilities for spending " a s'ocial even ing," not with his wife, but with .gentlemen of leisure," in a place that common parlance calls " hell." If it is not there, Won't-care-if- Edo will find it a little beyond, and in a few years his gentleman•ofleisure friends will not care how• soon he goes there, because they will say of him then, " He is completely cleaned out Yes, cleaned out of money, credit, Im siness, home—his poor young wife has answer. ed an invitation from a sympathizing friend to come and stay with her, " I d' u car' if I do." I doe't care if I do—go to rain--Mould be hung up as a sign for every ynn•:::l.+a that is invited by a gentleman of leis., -,., enter one of these I•don't•caro•if-I•do house,. - where the only care for him is to get his own honest earn ings, and all that he can be induced to obtain from his employer, by saving I don't care if I do—take it, nobody will know it. Two young girls were on the walk before us. They were talking busily, as girls generally are, but what did that concern us ? We oared nothing, listened for nothing, yet in spite of all attempts to hear and heed nothing, in spite of the eternal humbug of a thousand wheels, those same words came again to our ears out of the claws of omnibus thunder and roar of human voices—l don't care if I do; and this time, with a sadder• cleaning than before, fur they told of years of woe, sorrows, and re pentance when it will be too late for one of those young girls—no yet innocent and pure, but alas. how long can they remain so after speaking such fatal words. " Oh, Lizzy, don't do it—come home with me—you will break mother's heart if she ever J nows it." "1 don't care if I do. I am not going to woric 80 all the time, and then be 'cause I want to go out evenings ani little fun once in a while. George d,:t 1:ko to come to our house, 'cause he 3 i. looks so suspicious at him menu to go where he is not afraid 10 ,Qlll,. nm sure 1 don't see what mother sees about George to be so set against him." Why, Lizzy, she .C 3 that he don't work any, has no business, no income, and he drinks?' "I don't care if he does—so does everybody except a few old sobemides ; and if he don't work, he always has money and good clothes." "That is what mother says ; and she is hfa i d yon don't know how he gets them." " I don't care if I. don't know. What's the odds? llc says he knows how to make more money than those that work, and can always give me plenty.." " Oh, Lizzy, do come home; pray do, and mother will forgive you." "Forgive me! I should think she had bet• ter wait till I do something that needs her for giveness. What have I done, pray 7" "You have set mother almost crazy by go• log away from home; and 1 am afraid if you rounds away you will go to ruin." "Lion% caro if I do; I am not going to be snubbed up and not allowed to have any com- pany, and---" Here came half a dozen omnibuses in a drove, and in spite of sharp cars we lost the rest of the dialogue ; but the words, I don't care it' I do, having Leen ringing every now and then in our ears since we heard them from that girl's lips, and we have now wrung them out to ring in yours, till you will say. I don't care if they do, since I eau learn a moral Its son from them. 6E11.."Ah, 'non dieu! mon dice!" said Mon• nicer Melemots to his friend Snittins, "mine sweetheart has give me de mitten." "Indeed--how did that happen ?" "Veil, I thought I must go make her one visset. before I leave town; so I step in de side of de room, and dare I behold her beautiful pairsoa stretch out on von /nay." "A lounge you mean?" "Ah, yes—On Von lounge. Aud den I say T vas cur sure she would be r. - ;:ten, if I did not come to see her before I—" "You said what?" "1 said she would be rotten, if—" "That's enough. You have put your foot iu it, to be sure." “No, oar. I put my foot out of it, for she say she would call her met, big brudder, and hank me out agar! I had intention to nay mortified, bnt I could not rink of de vird, and mortify and rot is all tho same as von, in my dit,tionaire *42...Fences operate in two wart--it pod they it,' n rence. Li peon ,t~?~ . r:' ~ / VOL. 19. NO. 38. A Ghost. M.,-t ghost stories nr nnly foolish and laugh able; but this one is certainly mslaricholy in the extreme, Within the past year the people of a village, in a western State, became greatly excited by the alledged nightly appearance of a ghost, in the village graveyard. Few of them, indeed, had dared to see it; but . snme had; and they, without making too fainiiiar with it had still seen it come and go, Iv, ,bout, sent itself,&c, and the statements or :01 :HA were too well au thenticated to be disreghi•l.:d. What the few saw the many believed; and the whole'commu• laity soon became exercised upon the sebjectof this strange nightly visitation to the graves of the dead. Of course the ghost was in the usu. al grave clothes, in which, so f4r as we. know. ghosts always appear; and it leas entirely rep. lar in its hours—always ari,ing among the tombs at just midnight, and 10.3.v:e. st near early dawn. It had often been .c en w. and go, passing over fences in its ersnr4e intt, no one had learned whence it came or whill,r it went. At length the matter, from heinsT town tnik, ' became the town dread. Notner,3 als got excited, and snperstitioa - .us brew melancholy and taciturn; people lou,d doubt. lag!) , at each other, as they pa,iod, in twilight, and all contrived their journeyingsat that hour, so as not to approach the last resting place of their departed friends. This growing dread at length became insuf ferable; and engaged all minds. There chanc ed to be, in the village, a youth of nineteen, froM Western New York, whose domestic edu cation had carefully excluded all faith in super. natural agencies, and who therefore, looked on ly to nalto•al rouses, for explanations of the events and occurrences of this life. This youth resolved to fathom the mystery of the gravt. , card ghost. He found one associate; and the two, after night-fall secreted themselves among the tombs, to observe. Punctually, as the hour of twelve drew nigh, the ghost which had I caused so much dread, was seen approaching. Th. , moon was shining brightly, and the white robed object was seen distinctly. Overcoming tau fences, it entered the grave-yard within ac• tuul reach of the youth who had set on foot the investiganon ; 'and as light fell fully upon the face of the ghost, he recognized the well known features of at, acquaintance, who was then in her early widowhood! Her husband had re• eentlY been buried there; nod so dreadful had burn the shock that the reason of the alit, had bran dethroned by it, and she was now a wan dering monied She saw not her observers, hot seated herself, as she was wont, 'upon the grave of him she had loved but too fondly.— The taro thou a,pproached the unfortunate, nod addressed her in kindness, She knew them not; but conversed freely with them culling the Angels, and craving their protection. She was in her night-clothes; and her wandering thus, throu,th the agony she had suffered, and her nightly occupying this sad seat, had converted that poor mental wreck of humanity, into a ghost. On this occasion she could nut be in• duced to abandon her post, and of necessity, she was left there to complete the hours of that night's pilgrimage.—She is now in a Lunatic Asylum.—/kflitlo Commercial. An Indian's Theory of the Origin of the Rices. A letter from Now Mexico to the St. Louis Republican gays that an Indian being once questioned us to the origin of the human race, responded substantially as follows: "Our Great Father, the Great Spirit, ha. 9 created the sun, the moon, the stars and the earth, which he replenished with befralo, deer, antelope, bear and beaver. Our great Father looked upon all thesis things ant. t ier• ceived that there was yet something wanting —it being like to So our Great Fa. ther went up th, creek here it seems that l:s• dition has not ha::ded Lwn its name,) eel looking around di,covored some black clay, out of which he focused a man. But the Great Spirit was not satisfied with this man, 111 , 01..) his face mid body was black and his hair wooly. So he left him there and went a little piece fie• titer up the creek, where he saw some red clay out of which he formed a red man. This man pleased our Great Father more than the Erst, yet he was not wholly satisfied. So our Great Father went still further up the creek a:sd saw some white clay, out of which he formed it white man, and looking upon hiss sei:h admi• ration and pleasure, exclaimed, "this is a per. feet man." Spaying Much Cows. Spaying oCcows, at n certain period of their life, offers immense advantages to the agric,ll. turalist and consumer, in producing ranch augmentation of milk and meat. In this way the animal escapes a host of ailments, and spares a host of losses, sustained in consequence of her bulling at times when it is impossible to gratify her desires. Spaying of cows, Professor Bouley says, creates a new race, sterile far breeding, but productive and valuable for tlio purpose of yielding milk for the dairy and west fur the butcher. Spayed cows yield unitual!y, for the first two or three years at least, a third more milk than they were iu the habit of gie. ing before the performance of the operation.-- A cow spayed thirty or forty days alter calving, or at the time she is giving the most milk, cot, tinues to yield, if not for the remainder of life, at least ter many years. the same large quaut:- ty of milk, and sometimes more titan she gave at the time of performing the operation. French veterinarians have, for many years. had their attention directed to this subjecti and each year their experience, as well as that of agriculturalists, leads them to speak more and more favorably of the practice.—French Work. Sonte time sineJaman entered & store to bell some brooms. The storekeeper said he would take the brooms, Who would take ball his pay in money and the rest in goods. Tim man complied, and after receiving his told the storekeeper that he would take fur LI, pay in goods half the brooms ! The sterolco*, er thonght him a preitr hard cast•