v.
Itit truntingbvit )ourrant,
WILLIAM BREWSTER, EDITORS.
SAM. G. WHITTAKER,
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masters to keep eq posted up in relation to this
waiter.
*tti.ct ip,o.ettl.
DREAM-LAND.
I've been dreaming—l've been dreaming,
Wandering in that shadowy land,
Where all's bright, though 'tis but seeming,
Haunted by a spirit band.
Spirits starry eyes beamed on me,
lmw, sweet music thrilled my ear,
Like the whispering of the wavelets
When is mirth they mingle here.
Dunring with the gladsome sunbeams
That upon the waves are cost,
To the music of the wild bird,
Ur the bee that's flitting past.
Fountains sparkled in the quiver
Of the moonbeam's dreamy light,
Sweetly chimed the green leaves shi‘er
With the breezes of the nigLt.
For 'tis always night in dreatikland,
Though the ebou goddess wears
Clasped upon her clear, dark forehead,
Bandeaux of the golden Mars.
And upon her sable finger,
Gleams a gent of puma light—
'Tis the moon, whose constant lustre
Makes the shadowy dreamland bright.
Thrr.• is never emelt of sadness
I.io:.!ering in this fairy clime ;
No ! it's very air breathed gladness
To this dreutuing heart of wine.
Beauteous forms wore chanting near me,
Angel forms they seemed to be ;
Oh, I could have listened over
To their low, sweet melody.
Gently words of welcome floated
To me on the stilly air.
Perfumed by the fragrant flowers,
That in beauty blossomed there
Words that woke within tuy spirit
Love for all those rapturous scenes,
And an echo. I would ever
Linger in the laud of dreams.
*elect take
Fran Ballou's Pictorial
THE WEST POINT CADET.
BY H. W. LOBINO
Mrs Helen Bolton was married to a man
she adored, a man whom she, the belle of
two seasons, had distinguished amidst a
throng of suitors, more or less disinteres
ted, and more or lees distinguished. He
was handsome, accomplished, intellectual,
of irreproachable morals, and independent
fortune. Their taste agreed perfectly.
She was, like himself, tired of city life and
frivolities of fashion, and gladly learned
that it was her husband's desire to reaide
the whole year round at 111::. beautiful 6-
rate Lindell Villa which iisted on
" I SEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WIIIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATE&.'•
the lordly Hudson, some sixty miles above
New York.
Linden Villa was built in the Italian
style, and covered a great extent of ground.
The grounds were laid out with exquisite
taste, according to the most approved prin
ciples of landscape gardening. In the
training of the trees, and their picturesque
groupings on the lawn, and in the mea
dow, the hand of art was dextrously con
cealed, and it seemed as if nature alone in
her most genial mood, had piled and bal
anced those pyramids of verdure, shaded
the rivulet just where it wanted shade,
crowned the summit just where a feather
crest was needed against the dark blue
sky, and permitted those glimpses of the
noble river just where it wooed the eye
most lovingly. There were grape houses
and conservatories, beneath whose high
transparent roofs an artificial summer
reigned, when all without was bleak and
desolate. The rooms of the mansion were
spacious. The broad hall was floored with
many-colored woods, the drawing-room
was lofty and highly decorated; there was
a fine library, and picture gallery, where
one might pass days without a wish to stir
abroad. Some half a dozes fine horses for
riding and driving, occupied the stables.
In a word the establishment and its style
were such as few gentlemen can boast of,
it was the home of opulence and taste.
Of course its lovely mistress was happy !
We shall answer that question by laying
before the reader a copy of a letter, mark
ed 'very private and confidential,' and ad
dressed to a married cousin—a wild, dash
ing, harum-scarum creature, who lived
some ten or twenty miles off.
$1 25
1 50
is. lklcn Bolton to Mrs. M. Marsay
Linden Villa, Sept. 1.
MY DEAR MILLICENT :—You ask me if
I am happy, and I will try to answer you
with all the frankness that your fidelity
and trust worthiness inspire.
Without being the most miserable woman
on the face of the earth, I am far from be•
ing content. When you saw our place,
you called it a perfect raltdise ; had you
seen my Henry, who was then away from
home, you would have envied me my lot,
though yourself married to the man of your
heart. But you will see him—you must
see Ititn, for I rely on you for the execu
tion of a project I have conceived.
Briefly then : though my husband is all
in all to mu, though I. never regret that
the gay society I resigned fur his sake, to
enjoy his company, I begin to fear that
am not all in all to him. He appears to
me distrait, shall I say it ?—indifferent.--
Once, that wee before we were married,
he would change color if I accepted the
hand of another in a ball room. Now I
may flirt with the young parson, who drops
in occasionally of an evening, and who, by
the way is a very pleasant man, without
causing him the slightest uneasiness. He
scents to have no desire to monopolize my
attention, and he passes many hours away
limn the that I know he might spend in
my company. Those odious books ! and
above all those miserable mathematics !
Do you know that I began to think that the
caliplr who burned the library of Alexan•
dria, seas a very sensible person ? 'rho
ladies of Alexandria were certainly very
much indebted to him. The other day,
at the breakfast table, I had been reading
him a long account of the latest Parisian
fashions. he all the while gazing on tee,
his hand resting on his chin looking the
picture of intelligence and attention ; but I
asked him what he thought of the dress in
troduced by the Duchess of Montpensier,
for evening costume, he replied :
4 . 'fho solidity of the truncated triangu
lar prism is found by ac:tling together the
altitudes of the three vertices of the incli
ned section, and multiplying their suet by
one third of the area of the base ; and I
found that his head had been running on
that paltry geometry all the time.
'Now dear Millicent, the question is
have I lost his heart or not ? That is the
problem to be solved, as ho would soy in
his horrid mathematical jargon. Deeper
ate cases require desperate remedies. Now
you, and you alone can aid me. My
poor weak head, after a neck's labor, has
concocted the following scheme, and I
know you to be as daring in execution as
I am ingenious in planning. I know you
too, excuse me for flattering, to be the wild
est little mad cap living, and that marri•
age has not tamed you in the least, but
only taught you the necessity of coucealinq
your eccentricities. Didn't you, at the
boarding school, out of revenge for the
short commons which she kept us, shoot
Madame Viniagrc's parrot, and compel the
cook, on pain of being horse-whipped, to
serve it to her with claret sauce ? Did
you not rob Mr. Vandover's melon patch.
But why rehearse these exploits ?
The time teems fitting (or my grand
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1855.
complot, as our old French teacher would
say. Your husband is away, you must
needs be lonely, come to Linden Villa—
But you must not come as Millicent Mar
say, but as a gallant cavalier, lured hither
by the attraction of my bright eyes ; not
as yourself in short, but as your brother,
Dick Reynolds, the West Point Cadet—
. told me that he left his uniform at
your house when he went off to pass his
vacation at the White Mountains. Don't
scruple then, to don the regimentals.--
There is no compriny at our house, and
you will only be seen by myself and hus
band, and the servants. You must flirt
with me desperately, and try the effect on
Bolton. Ryon arouse his jealousy, all
my doubts will vanish into thin air, and I
shall be the happiest of women. Let the
answer to this letter he your dear self.
Adieu with much love, HELEN.
On the afternoon following the day on
which this private and confidential epistle
had been despatched, a handsome young
fellow, apparently, in uniform, was presen
ted by Mrs. Bolton to her husband, as her
oousin, Mr. Richard Reynolds of the West
Point Cadet Academy.
My dear sir, I ant very happy tome
you,' said Bolton, shaking his (her) hand
cordially. have often heard my wife
speak of you for her sako and mine. It is
a great pleasure to meet gentlemen from a
school so famous for mathematical profi
ciency. I shall ask your aid, at your lei
sure, in the solution of a few problems—'
'O, hang mathematics !' cried the
youngster. 'We're bored enough with
them at the Point in term time. I've no
idea of spending my vacation over triangu
lam and quantities.'
'But my dear sir,' remonstrated Bolton,
gently, 'don't yon think the study of ma
thematics, one of the most important of
pursuits 1'
No, my boy !' cried the young gentle
man slapping his host on the back. 'Give
me war, wine, and the ladies.'
'But war is nothing without mathema
tics.'
'Hang mathematics !I say again,' cried
the young hopeful. 'That's for the engi
neer dopattment. Give me a fleet horse
and a sharp sabre, and the smile of a sweet
heart as lovely as Helen, and I care for
nothing else.
His horse and his sword
And his lady, the peerless,
Are all that are prized
By Orlando t h e fearless.
By the way, I hear you have some
good bits of blood in your stable, I shall
toy their mettle to-morrow. No slow
coaches for me I have had enough of
spavined nags at the Point,'
'Anything of mine is at your service, sir
said Mr. Bolton with a stately bow.
can hardly realize,' said the young
soldier, turning his back on Mr. Bolton,
'that you are married, Helen. Do you re.
member the last evening we passed togeth
e r
'Can I ever forget it, Dick,' replied the
lady.
'lt seems you did forgot me,' said the
young cadet, pointing to Bolton.
'My dea*,' said Bolton, 'since you have
company to amuse you, I trust you and
cousin will excuse me. I sin calculating
the area of some irregular solids and I hate
to loose a moment.
'Mrs. Bohn granted the required license
and the husband vanished into his study.
'How did I play my part, [Men' ! ask
the cadet.
'Admirably, Millicent ; but how provo
kingly cool Henry was.'
am piqued at his behavior,' replied
Millicent, 'and I will do my best to shake
his philosophy.
'We will flirt all the evening,' mid Mrs.
Bolton.
'That we will,' replied Millicent, gaily ;
and we will snub him most outrageously.'
'Here comes my maid, Prudence, a ter
rible prying old thing ; she'll help the plot
along by telling tales of me to Mr. Bolton,'
said Mrs. Bolton.
The ladies were sitting together on the
sofa, and Millicent had her arms around
Helen's waist. Mrs. Prudence, a thin,
sharp nosed demoiselle of fifty, stopped at
the doorway and uttered a little soretun us
she beheld theni.
'epos° I'd better not Dome in man,'
I begs your pardon, niim, for intruding;
but I wanted to ask you if you would have
tea now 1'
'O, come in, Prudence, this•is only my
cousin. Is tea ready.'
'Yes mini,' replied the maid, primming
up her parched lips.
'Then tell Mr. Bolton.'
.Yes mim. 1 hope you bear me no mal
ice, mim, for coming in without knocking,
I didn't know there wit:: a young gentle,
man.w•ith you.'
'Go away, Prudence, and deliver my
1 errand.'
Prudence tripped away and tapped with
her nails at the study door. Receiving no
reply, she employed her knuckles; and
that producing no effect she opened the
door and walked in.
.Missis says as how supper's ready, and
and you are wanted directly, sir.'
'Tell her not to wait for me,' replied
Bolton, without raising his eyes from the
sheet of strange hieroglyphics that lay be•
fore him on the table.
'Perhaps you doesn't know as how
there's a young gentleman to tea.'
'Yes, yes, my wife's cousin.'
am glad to hear it's her cousin, sir. I
was in hopes sir—if you'll excuse the sen
ttment-4 was in hopes that it was her
brother.'
.Why so, Prudence ?'
'I never tells tales out of school.'
But I choose to be answered when I ask a
question,' said Bolton, raising his eyestrain his
paper, 'I ask you why you hoped he was her
brother?'
'Cause, sir.'
'Answer l'
'I prefer not to, said the waiting maid, tan.
talizingly.
Mr. Bolton rose and took hold of her sharp
shoulder.
`Let ins go said the handmaiden, 4diarply.—
'l'm not used to be treated like -I was a nigger.
If I am a servant, I has my rights.'
'You obsecved,' said Mr. bolton, calmly sit.
tine down, 'that you wished the young man
had been my wife's brother. You can explain
your meaning, or leave the room—l am indif
ferent which.'
'Well, sir—if I must speak out, I think that
when young gentlemen has their arms about
ladies' waists, and them is married ladies, sir,
they ought to be their wives, or leastways their
sisters:
'Umph ! so this young gentleman had his
arm around Helen's waist ?'
'I see it with my own eyes, sir.'
Pshaw I he's only her cousin. I'll go right
down to hopper.'
Mr. Bolton was very attentive to his
wife at the table, but not so attentive es the
cadet, nor did the object of his gallantry
receive his petitions with the she pletw
ure she manifested at 111,320 of W.r.causin.
Their eyes met often ; they smiled on each
other, and they whispered together. Mr.
Bolton began to be uneasy. When the
table was cleared, he did not retire as usu
al to his study, but remained on the field
watchful and alert. The evident success
of their plot redoubled the malice of the
conspirators, and when Bolton retired for
the night he was a decided victim of the
green eyed monster:
'O, woman ! inexplicable riddle !" he
muttered to himself. 'Maltreat her, starve
her, and starve hor, and she clings to you
like a dog l—surround her with luxury,
grant her every wish and her heart turns
from you with contempt ! 0, Helen ! Hel
en ! little did I expect this from you !'
The next morning he rose feverish and
unhappy, for the conspirators wishing to
make assurance doubly si're, counterfeit.
ed, with cruel skill, the phases of an ab
sorbing mutual passion. That evening
Bolton passed shut up in his study a prey
to despair. It was then ten o'clock when
he heard a light tap at the bay window
that opened on the piazza.
.Who's there ?' ho asked as he undid the
fastening.
'Hush !----not a word ; 'its' only I,' re
plied a voice. •
'And who are you asked Bolton gruff
ly.
'Your old fricnd••••Ned Marsay."
'Come in, Ned•--•come in, What bro't
you here at this hour ? And how's your
wife V
'Why you know Better than do. You
have seen her later.'
'1 seen her ! You know I havn't seen
her at all yet.'
'But she's been in your house two days.'
You'r mad.'
'Not a bit of it. Hear me,' replied
Marsay' .1 left her to go to Boston, on bu
siness, expecting to be absent a fortnight.
however, 1 despatched my affairs in two
days, and hastened home for I am so young
a husband that absence is a painful af
fair to me. Judge of my surprise when
I found that she had gone off, no ono
knew whither, t war at a loss to know
what was the cause of this escape, when
as good luck would have it, I found a let
ther, which she carelessly left in her dres
sing room, from your w:fe, and which ex
plained everything. Here it is.'
Bolton eagerly caught the letter, the
same with which the reader is already
acquainted and perused it eagerly. After
reading it Ile handed it back to Marsay,
with a hearty laugh.
!By Jove ! Ned,' said she, 'l'll turn the
tables on theni, and pay them, for this.•---
Will you forgive we it I eliould give your
wile a thorough scare 1'
'I doubt if you can scare her,' replied
Mersey, laughing, 'She's a bold a creature
as ever fired a fowling piece without win
king, or put her horse over a five barred
gate. She deserves a lesson for this freak.
Why, she outblooms Bloomer. In regi
mentals ! only think of it.'
'Well, I have a plan in my bead for
bringing her into subjection,' replied Bol
ton smiling. 'But you'll sleep hero to
night!'
'No, I'll go back to the tavern.'
'Very well--perhaps that's best,--come
round hfrc to morrow morning early.'
'Well, then, goad night,' said Marsay.
I'll cut across the lawn.' And the two
friends separated.
The next morning Mrs. Marsay was
walking by herself in a little woad back
of the villa, when she was suddenly en.
countered by Bolton.
'Well met, young gentleman,' said hP,
very sternly,
'You rise early,' said Millicent careless
ly.
always do when I have business on
hand.
'Pardon me,' said Millicent, I tho't Mr.
Bolton a man of elegant leisure, who des
pised business, and was fortunate enough
to have none on his hands.
'The care of my honor is sufficient busi
'less.'
'Plait it ? Ido not understand you,'
said Milicent cooly.
'Tell me, sir,' continued Bolton, 'were
you not well received at my house ?'
'My dear Helen was certainly very glad
to see me,' answer3d Millicent ; 'but you
began to bore me with your angles and
hypthenuses as soon as you were present
ed to me. You were disablement ennuy
eux, mon cher.'
'Yet my house and all that it contained
were placed at your service, I allowed
you to ride my horses, shoot over my dogs,
and ransack my gmperies.'
'And I availed myself of the privilege,
sir. I ran your horse, astonished your
pointers, and ruined your graperies.--
%Vim more would you have me to do ! I
couldn't empty your cellar.-.-I have no
head for drinking.'
'You have forgotten one thing in the
catalogue of your exploits, sir.'
Tame it.'
, I did not give you liberty to make love
to my wife.'
No indeed! for that was my duty to a
pretty woinati neglected by her hus
band.'
'Sir you have abused my hospitality.'
'Sir, you bore me. I writt!d be alone.'
'!'his insolence is 100 much ?" said Mr.
Bolton 'and let mo tell you that I have
come here to chastise you•---to demand
satisfaction. You are a soldier you know
what that means.'
.Of course,' replied Millicent, u little
fluttered. 'Well we'll see about that,
we'll arrange the time, weapons, and
place.'
'Whenever I meet my foe, there I !nuke
my battle ground answered Holton.--
There is no time nor place like the pres
ent, and as for weapons, here are a pair
of hair•tiggers ;' and he produced a pair
of duelling pistols as he spoke.
'Hold ?' cried Millicent turning pale;
'this is carrying a jest too far. Mr. Bol•
ton, forgive mc. I have been playing a
cruel trick on you ; lam not what I seem
I am no soldier•-••no men,---but a wild, self
willed woman.'
'A woman P cried Bolton with a deri
sive laugh. Mils is the quintessence of
impudeot ingenuity. Foiled in your
hopes of impu gpity, deceived in your rec.
ening of my blindness and indifference,
you seek to escape by an incredible false
hood. Comp, take your weapon and your
distance.'
, Mr. Bolton !' shrieked Millicent, thor-
oughly alarmed, .1 am not deceiving you
now, I ant your friend's wife. I ant that
Millicent Mersey of whose mad freiks
you have doubtless heard so much. 0,
if my husband wits here he would confirm
the truth of all that I have stated !
, You hear Mersey? come forth ! cried
Bolton. And Mr. Edward Mersey step
ped forward from a screen of bushes,
which had served to conceal him. 'Do
you acicitowledge this lady to be your true
and lawful wife ?'
do replied Mars ay, taking the repen
tant sinner by the hand ; though it is hard
to believe my eyes when I see her in that
dress.'
'I will never assume it again, Ned,' satd
the lady, half sobbing ; half orying.
'To make a long story short, the parties
returned to breakfast at the villa. Mrs.
Bolton was cured of her doubts, Mr. Mar
say of her love of masquerading, while
Bolton made his peace by promising in fit
turn to be a little lets studionF, and a little
more atteutiye.
P - [WEBSTER.
isteliantents.
Sam Swinton's Corn Speculation.
'Did I ever tell you,' said Saln Swinton
to me one day, 'of that 'ere corn spec of
mine on the Wabash ?'
I shook my head.
'You see, Bob,' began Sam,' the way it
came about was thisl— got hard up.'
'Which is not a very uncommon thing
with a certain individual of my acquaint
ance Sam,' I remarked.
.Prezactly; said Sam. 'Well, I was
hard up, and wondering how I could make
the smallest amount of capital toll to the
greatest advantage, when on taking up a
newspaper, I saw a windy paragraph on
the advantages of advertising. The arti
cle went on to illustrate how many fellers
had made their piles out of the meanest
bile simply by advertising, and I deter
mined at wunce, pertichlerly as I had rai
sed an idea from the subject, that it was
way for me ter go about.'
'That was the way ?' I inquired not
comprehending him,
'By advertising,' returned Sam.
•All right—l understand—go ahead
I urged the matter this way,' said Sam
'that an advertisement travelled wherever
the paper travelled, and everybody knows
they go into all of the out-o'-way places in
the State. So thinks I, a good advertise
ment will be sure to ketch the eye of some
of the softest of the interior, and if it does
who knows but what they will give a fel
ler a lift ? So I takes the store of a Puke,
who, because I talked up right, didn't want
the rent in advance, run in a lot of truck
that I could neither sell nor give away,
hung up' my shingle of "Sam Winton
Commission Merchant, put up a spring
ing advertisement in the two papers pub
lished in the town, got a couple of first
rate puffs from the editors, to the effect
that I was 'responsible as well as some in
a trade, and then I oat down to abide the
ishew of events.'
1 'That is, of the advertisement !'
'Prezactly. Well, I hadn't been stor
ing it long, when a planter in the interior
of the &ate--;
What State, Sam ?'
'lndianny of course—consigned me four
big boat loads of corn, on corn on commis
sion, with instructions to sell as quick as
possible, and then write to him, so that he
could draw on me for the pewter. 'Thinks
I, as 1 had the stuff put in the store, there
aint nothing like advertising. It's the on
ly way to make customers. And I land
myself out to sell the corn.'
'And that didn't take you long Sam, of
course.'
'Yet might bet a barrel of Monongyhe.
ly on that Bob, with all the chances to
win,' replied Sam. Yer see the other
merchants in the town—and some of 'cut
driv a stiff business I tell you—couldn't
come within a thousand miles of me in
price. I could undersell tho hull of 'era
and the they couldn't help themselves.—
Some on 'em tried to back up against me
by putting their corn down to the lowest
market price, but it warn% no sorter use.
I run mine down to half the usual prices,
and they had to knock under. They
grumbled orful, and declared I was ruinin
the business ; but it didn't made no differ;
I continued to sell much lower titan any o'
'ens, that they at length gave up all idea
of competition with me, and I bad all the
market to myself, until the last bushel
was gone. To be sure said Sam, with
one of his expressive smiles, had the ad.
van'age of the Pukes—they expected to
pay the owners for their corn, when it was
sold, whereas I—'
*Had no such intention , ' said 1.
'Not the less on it,' said Sam. 'lt was
agin my principles, and always had been.
Well, my competitors, jellus of my suc
cess, commenced blowin agin me every
where, but instead of hurting me it did me
good. In a short time I got up my name
as the cheapest and quickest corn dealer
on the Wabash, and the planters began
consigning their corn to me so fast 1 came
to the conclusion they must have been
mighty anxious to get rid of it.'
'You never expected to pay them a dol
lar did you, Sam.'
'Not the first picay use !' unsweved
Sam 'But I went on selling. There's
a large market on the IVabash for every
thing—even for corn, if yer it low en
ough—and us I went in fur the big mar•
ket, the way 1 natural! hauled in the pew
ter was enough to send a thrill of joy to
the heart ofa dying Christian. When 1
was facilitatin' myself on the luck which
followed advertising I received a letter
from my lira customer, wanting to 4.ttow
if I had sold his corn yet, and if so, ter let
him know as by could draw en me for the
VOL. 20. N 0. 31.
As his plantation was away in the in
terior, I writ to him that it warn't sold yei,
and there , vas no telling when it would be
as money was so orfnl tight, and more
corn in the market than there was any de
,
nand for. This shut him up for a month
'or two, when along came another letter
which I answered•as before.
I didn't Bear from him again for nigh
on to eight months, when he writ me a
sassy letter, stating that he was hard up
And must have the money ; that I must sell
the corn off at any price, deduct my coin
mission, and let him know what the bal
ance was, so he could, draw on the for the
amount.
This letter took me all of a heap, as I
had been putting of the settling with all
my correspondents, with the intention of
making a slide.. However, thinks I, I'll
give this Puke a small sight, out of a •fel•
ler feelin,' for 'lye often known what it is
to be hard up myself. The Puke's corn
came, even at the prices at which I sold it
to $475, and I thought, seeing that I was
doing a tall business, that it was nothing
more that he should have a part of the pew-
I set down, made a statement of the
account, and sent it to him. The dpcument
ran thus :
Mr. Brown—Sir, I have according to
your instructions, made a forced sale of
your corn, and received for it $475 00.
The Elephant's Fraternal Feeling and
Affection.
While a wagon drawn hy several ele
phants was passing our office recently, the
following story wus told, which we vouch
for as true
Last season a menagerie visited the vil-
Inge of Johnstown, Herkimer county.—
W hen the cavalcade left town it passed
over a bridge which the road crossed, lea
ving two elephants to bring up the rear.
These were driven to the bridge, but with
the known sopcity of the race, they re,
fused to cross.
The water of the creek, which flows
through a gorge in the slate: formation,
presenting at that poiut, banks of precip
tuous character and thirty feet in height
woo low, and by taking a course across a
cornfield a ford could be reached. But the
proprietor of the corn-field refused to al•
low his property to be so used, except on
the payment of an exorbitant suns, and
this the agent of the meliagrie refused to.
submit. Accordingly, the elephants were.
again driven to the bridge, and again they
refused to attempt the crossing. They
would try the structure with their great
feet, feel cautiously along the plank with .
their proboscal fingers, but each time would
recoil from snaking the dangerous experi...
went.
At last, however, goaded by a sharp
iron instrument of the keeper, and accus
tomed to obedience, they rushed on, with
a scream half of agony, half of anger.—
Tho result showed the prudent premises
of the poor animals to have been correct:
the bridge broke, and went crashing to
the bottom of the gorge, carrying with it
both the monstrous beasts. One of Client
struck upon its tunic and shoulder, break
ing the former and very badly injuring
the latter; the other was very strangely
enough, unhurt. New was shown the
most singular and remarkable conduct on
the part of a brute which had escaped.--
Its comrade ley there, an extempore bed
bging provided for its comfort, while no
tembtation, no stratagem ,vas sufficient to
induce the other to leave, and proceed
with the caravan, which finally went on,
leaving the wounded beast and its compel,-
ion under the charge of their keeper.
Day after day the suffering creature lay
there, rapidly failing and unable to move.
At the end of three weeks the water ia
the creek commenced rising, and there
was danger it would overflow and drown
the disabled elephant. The keeper desi
re 4, therefore, to get it up and make it
walk as far as a barn near by, where it
would be out of danger and could be bet
ter cared for. But it would not stir. lie
coaxed, wheedled, and scolded, but all to
no purpose.
At List, enraged he ~.eized a pitchfork,
and was about plunging it into the poor
thing's flesh, when the companion wrench
ed the fork from his hand, broke it in frog.
nests, and flung the pieces from it ; then,
with eyes glaring and every evidence of
rage in its manner, it stood over its de
fenceless und wounded friend as if•daring
the keeper to approach; which the man
was not so green as to do eguita, with eras:
purpose.
Thus the injured animal lay there until
it died. When satisfied that it could no
longer be of service, the other quietly fol
lowed the keeper away from the spot, awl
showed no desire to return. if this we,
not reasoning mingled with nit Mkt lion
some men ought pattern niter, we 41.1 E!
like to knew o h u t to null