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BY WILLIAM D. BAILEY,
VOL. 2.-*INTO. 30.
Tams of Publication.
The WELLSBORO' ADVERTISER is publlshekevery
Thursday morning, and furnished to subscribers
at $1.50 per annam if paid in advance ; or $2 if
payment be delayed over the year. No subscrip
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The foregoing terms will be strictly adhered to.
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less at the option of the editor.
ADVERTISEMENTS will be inserted at'fifiy cents
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one. Yearly advertisements inserted ht a reasona
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ECTTransient advertising payable in advance.
LT All letters must be post-paid. ' -
Migtorteat Sitettii).
GEN. ANTHONY VAT E;
THE HERO OF PAOLI AND STONY POINT.
We are not about to jubilate the sangui
nary exploits of a tyrant to subjugate or
enslave his fellows—;-we are not about to
sing of embattled hosts called together to
feed cation crows, at the word of despot's'
and autocrats—we are not about to pay
homage to kings, or to their battle-fields
filled with ignorant and mercenary legions,
whose issue, either way, but leads to rivet
in. the chains of tyranny on their country
—but to speak rememberingly of one of
Nature's nobles, heading a handful of our
frugal, hardy, daring, suffering, and valiant
forefathers, who successfully defended our
plains and mountains from the enslavement
of a powerful and mighty tyrant, and
founded the resurrection of Liberty, the
emancipation of mankind, the regeneration
of the world, and the life of the Future !
Something is due to the memory of 'those
whose illustrious achievements won this un
matchable legacy, whether on, the battle
plain of' Lexington, or who sunk under the
merciless bayonet of ruthless Hessians in
the deathly night massacre at P.kom !
whether they stood in the elevation of pat
riotic pride at the surrender of England's
'proudest generals and armies, or died by
inches on board the terrible, torturous, and
revengeful " Old Jersey Prison Ship," on
Long Island's shore—something, we say,
is due, always due, to that band, who gal
lantly struck for that .Inclependence which
we enjoy the full benefit' of, and of whose
harvest we have the complete fulfillment.
A dark cloud once shattered our quarter
of the globe. Consternation for awhile
agitated our inhabitants, War desolated
our fields, and buried 'Our vales-in blood.—_
Longing lovers of liberty, and young and
ardent sons of freedom, fell into bloody
graves, " uncoffined and unknelled," as at
PAOLI, ere they awaked even from slumber.
But the glittering portals of the day opened.
The Angel of Liberty dropped on the brow
of every patriot the wreath of victory, and
stamped with, the seal of independence the
omnipotence of freemen, and the eternal
banishment of the foe. With iVhat thrilling
interest, therefore, should we then regard
the.events of the Past !—with what, pro
found emotions dwell upon the character of
the Present, and speculate upon the bound
less prospects of the future ! Let us, while
treading proudly the spot of earth where
political equality dwelleth, ever -keep green
in the glory of immortality-, the myrtle that
wreathed the swords of the patriots.
Anthony Wayne, Major General of the
American Army, was, born in the year
1745, in Chester county, State of Pennsyl
vania. His father, who was a farmer, was
many years a representative for the county
of Chester, in the General Assembly, before
the Revolution. Anthony Wayne succeed
ed his father as representative for the county,
in the year 1773, and from his appearance
in public life, there could be no mistake
about his patriotism. 'He opposed with
much ability and Spartan energy the unjust
demands of England, and was of material
service in preparing the way for the deci
sive part which Pennsylvania took -ia the
general contest.
In 1775, he was appointed to the com
mand of a regiment, which his character
enabled him to raise in a few weeks, in his
native county. In the following year, he
was serving under General,,Thonipson, in.
the irruption into Canada. In the defeat
which followed, General Thompson was
made prisoner, and COI. Wayne, theugh
severely wounded, displaied great gallantry.
and good conduct in - bringing of the scat
tered and broken bodies of troops, and an
noying his pursuers with many a galling
fire.-
In the campaign of 1776, he served un
der General - Gates, at Ticonderoga, and
was highly esteemed by that officer. for both
his bravery, and skill as an engineer. At
the close or that canvaign, he was created
a Brigadier-General.
At the battle of Brandywine, he behaved
with his usual bravery, and for a long)Lme,
opposed with a small force the progras of
the English at Dhad's Ford. In this action,
the inferiority of the Americans in numhers,
discipline and arms, gave them little chance
of success; but the pectiliar situittion of
the public mind was supposed to require a
battle to be risked: The ground teas; brave
ly disputed—the few militia 'determined
gallantly to second the -inflexible resolution
of the General, and the enemy's loss was
at least equal to their own: As ‘ it-was the
intention of:the Commander-in-Chief to
hazard another battle on the first favorable
opportunity, General Wayne was dispatch.
ed with his ditiision to„harass the enemy', by
every means in his power. The British
troops were encamped at Tedyffrin, and
WELLSBOROITGIE, TIOG4 COUNTY, PA., TUVE:BI)4Y FEBRUARY 27, 1851
Gen. Wayne was stationed about three
miles in the. rear of their wing, near the
Paoli Tavern, and which place became the
theatre - of a sanguinary scene, called the
➢IASSACRE OF PAOLI.
Washington,' having decided upon adopt
ing the offensive, reached Philadelphia,
where he received - reinforcements; and took
the route along the Lancaster road to meet
Lord - Howe. Meanwhile,_ Gen. Wayne,
with his division, awaited in silence, at
Paoli, for reinforcements to be forwarded
under Major Smallwood, and - imprudently
believing himself secure from any attack,
had mot - taken all the precautionynecessary
at - such a critical moment. On the night of
the 20th of September, 1777, Major Gene
ral Gray cautiously led a baud of British
Hessians, with fixed bayonets, into the camp
of- - Wayne'S small force, and commenced a.
most terrific slaughter. The Americans
were completely taken by surprise; the
most of them were in a sound slumber
from which they only awoke by the loud
yells of the remorseless Hessians, to find a
gory bed. As / there was no resistance—
indeed, in the hurry, confusion, darkness,
and dismay, there could be no defence—the
cries of the half-naked, unarmed men, for
mercy and quarter, Were perfectly .unheed
ed by men whose trade was butchery, and
whose desire was extermination. Wayne,
with some cavalry galloped to the rescue,
and endeavored to stem the torrent, and ul
timately succeeded in drawing off the rem
nants of his brigade. That night " sleep
had been murdered" effectually, and morn
ing dawned on a multitude of corpses,
bathed in blood ; the earth covered with
clotted gore—here and there horses and
riders together prostrate, and in one " red
burial blent ;" while -the butchers rioted in
the success of a slaughter that had cost
them so little. At least one hundred and
fifty were massacred on the spot, and all the
camp equipage fell into the hands of the
BritiSh.
Much blame was attached to General
Wayne, for allowing himself to be surprised
in this manner, and he demanded a court-.
martial, which acquitted - him honorably.
A neat marble monument has been erec
ted on the ground, to the memory of the
unfortunate patriots who fell on this melan
choly 20th of September, 1777.
Many accounts have been given of this
disastrous affair;all of which tend to screen
our hero from blame. But a regard for
truth constrains as to state, that Anthony
Wayne was not only a gallant soldier, but
a gallant man, and inctottd ofwitching
over the safety of the troops committed to
his care, he was fulfilling an affair of gal
lantry, at some distance from the camp,-at
the time of the assault. Historians have
treated him with unusual lenity; for his
noble conduct immediately afterwards, at
the battle of Germantown ; and, indeed, he
never forgave himself for this dereliction of
duty, and it burst from his heart, in the
midst of the onset at the storming of Stony
Point,-when he cried out to his men," RE
MEMBER PAOLI, BOYS !"
This massacre had no other effect than
to rouse to such a pitch of frenzy both
General. Wayne and his soldiers, that in
the battle of Germantown, fought shortly
after, he and they signalized themselves in
such a manner as to reflect credit on them
selves.
But the next exploit of gallantry and
prowess, which shed a lustre on the fame
of our revolutionary army, but especially
on that of General Wayne and his com
patriots from Pennsylvania, was the storm
ing of Stony point, always admitted to be
one of the most brilliant that ever graced
the annals of war.
To. Gen. Wayne, who commanded the
light infantry of the army, the execution of
this coup de main was entrusted. Secrecy
was deemed so much , more essential to suc
cesstban numbers, that it was thought un.
advisable to add to the force already in the
lines. One birigade was ordered to com
mence its march, so as to reach the scene of
action in time to cover those troops engaged
in the attack, in case of any unlooked-for
disaster; and Major Lee, of the light dra
goons, who had been eminently useful in
obtaining the intelligence which led to the
enterprise, was associated with r General
Wayne, at least as far , as cavalry could be
employed in such a service.
The night of the 15th of July, 1779, was
fixed upon for the assault; and it being
suspected that the English garrison would
be more on their guard towards day, twelve
o'clock was the hour chosen for the attack.
Wayne and his comrades in arms, who had
'suffered at Paoli, had they died previous to
the attack; would,' like Queen Anne, have
been, found to have the word PAOLI written
on their hearts,
Stony Point . is a commanding hill, pro
jecting far into the Iludson, which washes
three-fourths of its base. The remaining
fourth is, in a great measure, covered by a
deep marsh, commencing near the river on
the upper side, and continuing into it below.
Over this marsh there is but one crossing
place, but nt its junction with the river is a
sandy. beach, passable at low tide. On the
summit of this hill was erected 'the fort,
which was furnished with gene n compli-
Merit of heavy pieces of ordnance. Sevß"-
ral breastworks were advanced in front of
,the principal works, and about half way
down the hill, were two rows of abattis.
The batteries - were calculated to , command
the beach and crossing-place, of, the , marsh,
and to rake and enfilade any, column which
might be advancing from and point towards
•
[SELF-DEPENDENCE AND SELF•IRPROVERENT--TDE FIRST. RIGDP, - AND THE FIRST DUTY OP EVERY NATIO'N.T
----- - - - -
the In addition to these defencei were
several vessels ib the river, manned and
armed to defend all approaches to the fort,
and to fairly sweep the beach and the foot
of the hill.
The fort was garrisoned--by upwards of
seven hundred men, under the command on
Lieut. Col. Johnson.
At noon of the day preceding the night
of the attack, the light infantry commenced
their march from Sandy Beach, distant
fourteen miles from Stony Point, and pass
ing through an excessively rugged and
mountainous country, arrived about eight
o'clock in the evening at Spring Steel's, one
and a half Miles from the fort, where the
dispositions for the assault were made.
. It was intended to attack the - works on
the right and left flanks at the same instant.
At half-past eleven the party formed into
two columns, and moved, 'silent ,as the
death which was soon to be the fate ofmany
a healthy, gallant soul, the van of each
column with unloaded muskets and fixed
bayonets. They were each preceded by, a
forlorn hope of twenty men, the one com
manded by Lieutenant Gibbon, and the
other by Lieutenant Knox, whose duty it
was to remove the abattis and other ob
structions, in order to open a - passage for
the columns which. followed close in the
rear.
Proper measures having been taken to
prevent any information of the attack
reaching the English, the Americans rerich
ed the marsh undiscovered. But unexpec
ted difficulties havinff 6
been experienced in
surmounting this and other obstructions in
the way, the assatilt did not commence un
til half-past twelve. Both columns, burning
with the inspiration of hatred, not at the
courage, but at the recent devastating and
merciless cruelty of the British, they rush
ed forward, amid a tretnenduous cross-fire
of musketry and grape-shot. Surmounting
every obstacle, and surrounded by the most
dreadful slaughter, they entered the worlts
at the point of the bayonet, and without
having fired a single piece, obtained com
plete possession of the post. Wayne, not
content to exercise the functions of a gene
ral, and shamed by his defeat at Paoli, gal
lopc:d through the thickest of the fray, and
marked with an eagle eye where an advan
thge was to be gained, or an omission to be
rectified. It was a very critical movement
also in the Revolution—the people were
ready to be thrown into a paroxysm of
dread or hope—the beam of the balance
was vibrating, and the miserable truckling
of torvism awaited the episode of the pc
riod. Indeed, it would hardly be possible,
in looking through the tong vista of cen
turies, to discover any period of history
more fraught with the fate of human lib
erty, than was the United States, at the
moment of this eventful conflict of raw
militia-men with soldiers trained to war—
bronzed in the heat and smoke of battles—
perfect in every equipment—officered by
men they knew and esteemed, and enclosed
behind an all but impregnable fort ! Yet
these -raw militia proved themselves -capa
ble of the most difficult enterprise, while
all distinguished themselves, whose situa
tion enabled them to do so. The loss of
the British was sixty-three, including two
officers, and five hundred prisoners, be.
sides the military stores taken in the fort,
which were very considerable.
The Americans suffered severely, but
by no means proportioned to the danger
of the bold and hazardous enterprise.
Wayne was wounded, but did not leave the
head of the-column. Col. Hay was also
among the wounded.
The humanity displayed by the con
querors . was not less conspicuous, nor less
honorable than their courage, and stood
out in bold relief to the British. Not a
single individual suffered after resistance
ceased.
Immediately niter the surrender of Stony
Point, General Wayne transmitted to the
Commander-in-Chief the following laconic
letter.
" STONY POLNT, July 16,1779, 2 o'clock, A. M.
" Dear General:—The fort and garrison, with
Colonel Johnston, are ours, our officers and men
behaved like men determined to bo free. Yours
mnFt oinerToly, " ANTHONY WAYNE.
" Gen. Washington."
In the campaign of 1781, in which Lord
Cornwallis, and a British army were obli,
ged to surrender prisoners of war, Wayne
bore a conspicuous part. In the State of
Georgia he fought with success some very
sanguinary engagements, for which the
State presented him a farm.
On the peace , which followed, he retired
into private life ;; but in 1789, we find him
a member of the Pennsylvania Convention,
and one of those in favor of-the Federal
Constitution of the United States.
In 1792, he succeeded General St. Clair
in the command of the army engaged
against the Itldians on our Western [fron
tier. His extraordinary decisioirand ex
emplary discipline, soon rendered his troops
veterans, witkr, which he soon destroyed
the enemies' Fewer, and compelled them to
conclUde a definitive treaty of peace.
A life of peril and glory
,was terminated
in December, 1790. Wayne had shielded
his country from every enemy, to the best
of his ability, ,and he never regarded de
liberately with indifference whatevei had a
tendency to promote ,the public good.
He beheld_hisi country triumphant, rich
in arts; potent in self government. He
died in a hut_nt Presque Isle, at about &1
years of age, *Ns bones now rest ,within
the cemetery or St. David'S chureh,.Ches
ter county, Pennsylvania.
The Atlantic.
"She's safe!" "She's safe !"--that weleonio shout
Rings through the evening air ;_
The God of Stornis has shielded ELT
From ruin's wrathful glare.
The storm-cloud, with its avalanche
Of tempest, raging wild,
Nor old Atlantic, could not harm .
Her young and darling child.
Thank God !—thank God !—that gallant ship
Still floats the upper air ;
Nor fire, nor " thick-ribbed ice" hail' marred
The hopes that clustered there.
Oh, never shall her glorious hulk
Yield to the maddened surge!
Old Ocean may but test thy strength,
Ne'er howl thy requiem dirge
And lie whc; guides the gallant West—
What drooping hearts leap high,
All thankful that thou still art left -
To guard when danger's nigh !
That bend in earnest prayer to Him
Who stays dark sorrow's fearful
To the special Providence that wills
" - Even a sparrow's fall."
No Ariel tones shall sing thy knell,
Of varied fathoms deep ;
Nor coral nor the sea nymph's shell
Within thy huge ribs sleep;—
But where the storm-cloud thunders wild,
High o'er the foam-tossed sea,
Still float unharmed, still brave the storm—
Majestic, proud, and free!
New York, Feb. 16, 1851.
rbe ffantiiß eirtie.
The Play• Things.
ChILD.
Oh, mother, here's the very top
That brother used to spin ;
The vase with seeds I've seen him drop
To call our robin in :
The line that held his pretty kite,
His bow, his cup and ball,
The slate on which he learned to write,
The feather, cap, and all.
NOTRE'S.
My dear,-I'd put the things away,
Just where they were before :
Go, Anna, take blur Out to play,
And shut the closet door.
Sweet innocent ! he little thinks,
The slightest thought expressed
Of him that's gone, how deep itsinks
Within a mother's breast.
Parental Teaching.
If parents would not trust a child on the
back of a wild horse without a bit or bridle,
let them not permit them to go forth into
the world unskilled in self-government. If
a child is passionate, teach him' by gentle
means to curb his temper. If he is greedy,
cultivate liberality in him. If he is sulky,
charm him out of it by encouraging frank•
ness and good humor. • If he is ignorant,
accustom him to exertion, and train him to
perform even onerous duties with alacrity.
If pride comes in to make obedience reluc
tant, subdue him either by counsel or disci
pline. In short, give your children the
habit of overcoming their besetting sins.
Let them acquire from experience that con
fidence in themselves which gives security
to the practised horseman, even on the back
of a high-strung steed, and they will triumph
over difficulties and dangers which beset
them in the paths of life.
Social Kindness.
How- skeet is social affection! When
the world is dark without, we have light
within. ,Wlten cares disturb the breast—
when sorrow broods around the heart—what
joy gathers in the circle of love! We for
get the world and all its animosities, while
blest with social kindness. That man can
not be unhappy who has hearts that vibrate
in sympathy with his own L--who is cheered
by the smiles of affection and the voice of
tenderness. Let the world be dark and
cold—let the hate and animosity gather
about in the place of business—but when
he enters the ark of love—his own cherish
ed circle—he forgets allshese, and the cloud
passes from his brow, and the sorrow from
his heart. The warm sympathies of his
wife and children, dispel every shadow, and
he feels a thrill of joy in his bosom that
words are inadequate to express. He who
is a stranger to the joys of social kindness,
has not begun . to live.
The Boy the Father of the, Plan.
Solomon said many centuries ago: "Even
a child is known by -his doings, whether
his work be ;pure, and whether it be right."
Some people seem to think that children
have no character at all. On the contrary,
an observing eye sees in these young crea
tures the signs of what they are likely lobe
for life.
When I sec a boy in haste to spend every
penny as soon as he gets it, I think it a sign
that he will be a spendthrift.
When I see n, boy hoarding up his pen-
nies, and unwilling to part with them for
any good purpose, I think , it a sign he will
be a miser.
When I see a boy or girl always jooking
out for him or herself, and disliking to share
good things with others,. I think it sign
that the child will grow up a very selfish
person.
When I see boys and girls-often quarrel
ing, I.think it a sign that they will be vio
lent and hateful men and women.
When I see a little boy willing to taste
strong drink, I think' it a sign that he will
be a drunkard.
When I see a boy who never attends to
the services of religion, I think it a sign that
he will be a profane and profligate man., ,
When I see .a child obedient to his parents,
I think it a sign . .of great future' blessing
from his Heavenly patent.
And though.great changes sometimes talc°
place in the character, yet, as a generallulo,
these signs do not fail.
-- The Child grPrayek.:
'Twas Summer eve—the rosy light
Had fadetlfrom the sky,
And state came twinkling, pure and bright,
Through the blue arch on high;
The western breezes softly stole
To kiss thesleeping flow'r, '
And nature wore her sweetest smile -
To bless the twilight hour.
There sat within a curtain'd room,
A mother young and fair—
What voice comes softly through the gloom
'Tis childhood's voice in pray'r;
A cherub boy is kneeling now,
Besides that mother's knee,
She who had taught him when to bow
Before the Deity.
A father on the distant deep,
A sister slumb'ring near,
A babe upon his mother's breast,
And that kind mother dear;
For every living thing he loves,
His pray'r ascends to heaven,
And for himself lie humbly asks
Each sin may be forgiven.
And oft, in after years, when grief
Shall bow his spirits down,
And the world, the cold and bitter world,
Shall meet him with a frown—
Or, when allur'd from virtue's path,
He treads a dang`rous way,
Oh he will turn to this sad hour,
When first lie knelt to pray.
And the kind hand which then was laid
Upon-his silken hair,
And the soft voicewhich taught him first
His simple words of pray'r—
Will come again with thrilling pow'r
To still his pulses wild,
And lure him back in that dark hour,
As sinless a.s.a child.
EMI
The pray'r is o'er, the last fond kiss
By that kind Mother given ; -
But rises not from scenes like this
That childish pray'r to heaven?
It does, it does, an angels wing
Has borne its tones with joy,
And the earnest blessing which it sought
Comes on the sleeping boy.
Select fitifortitang.
Migration of Norway Rats.
The Lemming, or Norway rat, an ani
mal which, within the past fifteen or twenty
years, has been introduced into this country,
is a .native of the northern and mountainous
districts of Lapland and Norway. It is
chiefly remarkable for its occasional migra
tions in innumerable bodies. These occur
at particular, but somewhat variable period ;
being caused by a deficiency of food in the
native haunts of the animal, to which may
perhaps be added a prescience of unfavora
ble seasons; as it has been observed that
the chief migrations are made in the fall of
such years as are followed by severe winter.
Having assembled from all parts and formed
themselves into an immense army, the lem
mings descend from the mountains upon the
plains, moving invariably in a' direct line,
and in total s disregard of all obstacles, with
the only exception, that if an impassible
rock intervene, they go round it, and then
resume their former straight direction. If
a rick of hay or corn oppose their passage,
they eat through it ; and if they meet with a
river,ihey boldly plunge in and swim across.
Even while swimming, they strenuously
labor to purgne their direct course; and
should a vessel come in their way, they
will endeavor to climb ifs sides. If they
are attacked on their migration by men,
they evince no'fear, but, raising themselves
up and uttering a kind of barking sound,
they engage their assailants by flying at
their legs, acid it is with great difficulty that
they are put to flight. Of these armies,
however, a greater part is destroyed by
owls, hawks, and weasels, and many perish
while crossing rivers ; so that a very small
number survive to return to their native
mountains.
Natural. History of the Sabbath.
The Creator has given us a natural res
torative, sleep ; and a moral restorative—
Sabbath-keeping; and it is ruin to dispense
with either. Under the pressure of high
excitement, individuals have passed , weeks
together with little sleep or none ; but when
the process is long continued, the ,over
driven powers rebe, and fever, delirium
and death come on ; nor can the natural
amount be systematically curtailed without
corresponding mischief. The' day of- rest
does not steal over us like the hour of
slumber. It does not entrance us almost
whether we will or not ; but addressing us
as intelligent beings, our Creator assures
us that we need it, and bids us notieo its re
turns, and court its renovation. And if,
going in the face of the Creator's kindness,
we force ourselves to work all days alike,
a
it is not king till we pay the forfeit. The
mental worker—the man of business, or
the man of:letters, finds his ideas becoming
torpid and. slow ; equipoise of his faculties
is upset, groins moody,, fitful, and, with', his
mental elasticity broken, should any dims
ter occur, he subsides into habitual mien
or in self-destruction speed's his guil
ty exit from a gloomy world. And the
manual worker—the artisan, the engineet
—toiling nn from day to day, and week to
week, the bright intuition of his eyei get
blunted, 'and forgetful of their cunning, his
fingers no longer perform the feats of
twinkling, agility, nor by plastic and tune
ful touch,mould dead matter, or wield me.
chanic power :lilt, mingling his' life'S blood
in his daily drudgery, his locks are prema
turely gray, his genial humors sour, and
slaving it till - lie has become a morose and
reckless man, for an extra effort or any
blink of balmy
,feeling he must stand' in.
dobted to opium or alcohol. -
IluNomi is an excellent sauce„
EDITOR A-ND PROPRIETOR..I
WHOLE NO. 82.;:
Death of a rat Boy.
~•
' The New York Tribune contains the f01...1!
lowing in relation to the unexpected death il..
i ;
of a fat boy , :
-- .l ' 4 '
"Th e e Coroner held MT inquest, onSat-;'-.
urday, at the North American Hotel, c0r...4 I
net. of Bayard street and the Bowery, upon ' , i ;
the body of George Robinett, a native or l
Indiana, 23 years of age, and , the rollow. 4!
ing verdict, setting forth the cause of bisF,
death was rendered by the Jury, vizs That;.;
deceased came to his death by malpractice V I
on the part of E. J. Lathamihe having Act.,
ministered medidines in quantities and 3!"..
qualities whereby his death, was caused:: , ` ; ;
The circumstances`of the case areas fol. ' 1 i
lows : ; ', F.. 11! '
The deceased was veryleShy, ivothing c ;
nearly 400 lbs:,- and was publicly exhibited, i:'
at the North American Hotel, until ja few '1
days since. Since his arrival in the city, r i , .
about seven weeks, he \ has been afflicted
,;!':'
with dxcessive thirst, and was in the, 'habit ';
of drinking six. gallons of water jdaily. i.-
Flis health otherwise Was apparetitly very ) 4 .".
good. On Tuesday lust' he informed Ja. ..s. , •
cob H. Tweedy, who attended him'', tp ,
a t he ;',.
had employed E. J. Latham, the rtecused;' ~
to relieve his excessive _thirst. That La- , ,
t ,
thank had promised - for s's to reddce the. ;: i ;
quantity of water then required dot_ .tck . r
satiate his thirst, from six gallonslto two.
gallons. Deceased then took medi4ine; iiiil , ,
the,shape of liquids, prescribed by Latham ii'
and became very sick, vomiting freqhentlYi .
and becoming delirious, and finallir died:;';
Latham was committed to prison for fur-;,l,'V
titer examination. . ''ff, l,' ;
1 . k
t -'• p
Yankee Pride and Yankee Skill: '-!
1 r :
A gullant tar, who recently returried
from a three years cruise in thej frigate i
Brandywine, noticed in one pf thelpapersi !.'''
a 'few days since, an article copied from the :-','
"Lcindon Illustrated News," statieg that, .H
-some skillful penman in England had, with •;:,.::
his pen, written the Lord's Praypr in a-,
circle not larger tan an English sixpenee -,:
in circumference.." Jack," with he usual:; ,
characteristic pridof his countryrnen, and
having due confidence in his own skill, im
mediately determined to write the same l'
prayer in a circle the size of mnl-English 1:;*
three pence, which is little larger Allan our
gold dollar. . I - 'I ,
i
The difficulttask was accomplished ; and '.?.:
yesterday with becoming yet modest pride, ~
he exhibited to us the result of his labor, i:
which was indeed a wondrous sp4cirnen of 'ei
penmanship. Every letter and ward could .:-.
be distinctly read, with a magnifying glass,
.y- .
and yet, with the naked eye; it seemed to be :',
but a mass of fine hair strokes. On askino. ° .:,
the sailor his name, he blushingly ; replied,,
" I don't want my name to go in the papers.:,
I read what an Englishman had dpne, and
I felt some pride in beating him.". I Such is
the indomitable spirit of the Yankep people.
M.
The Ram and the Dealoon.
An elderly gentleman, deacon of u church
in New Hampshire, had once been out later
than usual on a Saturday evening. Mit
day he attended public worship, and . for his
own comfort, being corpulent, sewed him.
self in the aisle of the church, near the
door, before which a number of sheep were ".E :
feeding, including a ram, who was an . old
warrior. While the parson Was'
, engaged
for his spiritual good, the deacon was sleep
ing soundly for the refreshment of . l;tis body. :*„
The deacon wore a large white wig, and as ...;;;
he sat facing the door, nodding in his sleep,
the old ram observing it, and mistaking the .
wig for the head of an antaaonist,'-and the
nodding for a signal of battle, began to
shake his head, and drew back-ste a proper
distance fora rencontre, when' the" deacon
making a very low nod, the ram snpposinE, o
the enemy advancing, met him full Ott,
and sent him howling half way toile put
pit, knocking off his Wig.
.The minister
was not a little disconcerted,' and lthe - *j
dience _semi:Lyn!' laughter. TO add to 11
the diversion, - the old deacon, recovering ;1]
his legs as soon as possible, gather4d up - his
wig, and putting it on, the,tail heroic, again
took his seat, without discoverittlhie mia.
take until service was ended. i lb
Velocity of Light.
The velocity with which light poises from
place to place is so great, that, , with respect
to terrestrial distances, there seems o be no
time occupied.in its passage. flat, by
means of astronomy, not only, hasithopro•
pagation of light been demo'astrited, but.
also its velocity calculated with great pre
cision. From the observations which have
been made, it would seem that light moves
with the prodigious velocity of 200,000
miles in a scoonttof time ; and, conpequent•
ly, would pass aronnd thd , , eartli, in .the
eighth part of a second. 136t:' fortn
clearer - conception of
,its swillnesi, let us_
,suppose that the sun were ! suddenly tote
extinguished. Now immense as dis- ;f
tance,of the 'sun from our glube--'05,000,-
000 of miles—only about Seven-ininutes
and a half would elapse before we Weald be
shrouded. in darkness. Astonishing as this
conclusion may appear, no result of iscience
rests on more certain evidence.
,
'Way is a _pig the most extracirdinary
animal in creation? Because you first kit/
him, and then vire him..
.
THE true. statesman,will Item flatter the
peoplo ; he will leave_ that
_'. for. thcis.o.,.tho
mean to betray them. j
M
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