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j sam%.-Wmimeit6n, Aii 1 ndepende nt Jouiiial: For the Promotion of the Political. Social, Agricutnral and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis h. grist, pubiiiher. VOL. 1. YORKYILLB, S. C., THUBSDAY, AUGUST 9, 1855. USTO. &1. BMM?M???????-?I??????????y?B?? _ _ _ (Lboicc |Joctn). h'l?.in tin- London Spectator. THE SONG OF THE BAIN. Lo! tiu' long slender spears, how they <|iiheraiid tin- li. , Where the clouds -o11 1 their r ivalry ilotfii ; K ink an-1 tile hy the million tin* rain lances da-li Over mountain an-1 l iver an-l town : Thick the hat tie-drop- fall?hill tliev -Ir--;- n-it ill l.lo??l: The trophy to war is the jnvi-n I'resli hud : Oh. the rain, the plentiful rain ! The pastures lie hake-!, and the furrow is hare. The wells they yawn empty ami >ry : Hut a ru-hiiiff of waters i-- iiear-1 in theair. Ami a rainbow leaps out in the sky. JI.uk! the Iiimi v -lr->ps peiiiii-i tlie sycamore "leaves. How they wash the wide pavement, ami sweep trom I lie eaves : Oli, the vain, the plentiful vain ! See, the weaver throws wide his one swinging pane. The kind drops ilanee in on the Hour. Ami his wife livings her tlovrer-pnts to drink the sweet rail) On the step l?y her half-open door. At the tune on the skylight. far over his head. Smiles their poor crippled lad on his hospital hod. Oh, the rain, the plentiful rain ! And away, far from men, where high Mountains tuwor. The little green mosses rejoice. And the hud-headed heather nods to the shower. And the liill-torrents lift up their voice: And the pool- in the hollows mimic the flight ()f the rain, as their thousand points dart up in light: <>h, the rain.-the plentiful rain! And deep in the fir-wood helow. near the plain, A -ingle thrush pipes full and sweet. How days of clear shining will come after rain. Waving meadows, and thick-growing wheat : So the voice of Hope sings, at the heart of our fears. < >f the hanest that springs from a great nation's tears: Oh. the rain, the plentiful rain! IHiscfllaiifoiis Beaming. THE AMERICAN BALD EAGLE. In whiliug away an evening we shall be excused by our readers if we occasionally turn from thestrict line of agricultural advancement, to give a notice to things not familiar, as of old. but still interesting to the lover of Natural History. Among the most prominent of these, is that truly American bird, adopted as our national emblem, the White-Head Eairle. This majestic bird is still found along the inhabited sea-shores, throughout the Cnited States, and 011 the great rivers aud lakes of the interior ; but in number much less than in the earlier settlements, where it had long held its abode. It is described with much eloquence, and at much length, by both Wilson aud Audubon, in their American Ornithologies ; and from thorn we o:irn that it is a wr<wJ?*orv cro? ture, preying chiefly upon the spoils of others, aud possesing few of the noble qualities attributed tc^it by tradition, or that would recommend it as the national emblem of a magnanimous people. For many years a family of White-Head eagles have held a doinicil on our farm, just below lake Erie, or. the Niagara, where successive families of young have been reared aud taken their flight. The Niagara has ever been a favorite resort of the Bald Ea^le. Early travellers mention them as abounding, for miles, arouud the cataract. We have never, to our knowledge, suffered from their depredations ; although often detecting them preying upon the dead tish which have floated to the shores of the river, or beeu left by the fishermen. We have always regarded them with complacency, as one 01 the interesting family of wild birds that fur ages have dwelt around a spot which, from its peculiar accordance with their natural habits, has been their chuseu home. As no more than a single pair of eagles usually occupy a nesting ground, the boundaries of which uiay extend a mile, or more, either way, the family that hold dominion over our place have been in constant possession sine, we hrst knew it, near twenty years ago. The young hover about for the tirst year, aud usually disappear for some other region the next spring, or at a year old. They seldom breed till they acquire the white head and tail, which is at about three years of age. At the approach of the paring season, in April, they usually leave the river-shore for their nest in the woods, ouly going out for the purpose of food, until the young are large enough to leave the nest with thorn. They then loiter about their usual hunting-grouuds, preying on tho spoils of other birds, ur the dead fish and carion lying along .L? ..V 1 *1... .1?,.~ 4*..11 mnnr lllC MlUll'S, .1UC1 lUf utsi utvp i?ui auun in the winter, we have frequently found three or four, and sometimes more of them sitting together on the high branch of a dead tree, I * where, if on horseback, or with a team of horses or oxen, they can be very* nearly approached without alarm?indeed, we have rode on horseback within an hundred feet of them, while they looked down upon us with great complacency. They will so sit for a whole day, and only move off at night to their roosting place in the woods. During the winter, they hover about the river-shore continually, and in severe weather arc often seen floating down the stream on a cake of ice, devouring a fish, the body of a gull, or duck, which they have captured, or have found killed or wounded by some hunter. Almost every winter, some of the young eagles have been shot by the hunters, and occasionally one has been caught from the nest and taken to the neighboring city, as a pet or curiosity. i The writer once had an encounter of this latter kind, and as it was, in its results, somewhat of au adventure we shall record it.? When about eighteen years old, spending some time in the vicinitv of one of the irreat lakes, oue tine May morning we weut with a companion down to the shore where a fisherman had put. up a shauty, aud with his wife and an infant child had taken up theirsuinmer residence. On our way down, and about a hundred rods from the water, in the topmost branches of an enormous oak, we spied an eagle's nest, and as the old eagles were wheeling about it, we eoneluded that the nest had either eggs or young within it, and which of the two we soon determined to ascertain. As our companion was a middle-aged man, aud had no special taste for climbing, the adventure was left for iue alone. The tree on which the nest was built had no limb* for thirty feet or more from the grouud, I but, fortunately, a smaller tree near it had been 1 felled, and its top lodged midway up among 1 the branches of the oak. Ascending the fallen tree, I soon reached the oak, and catching the i huge limbs above me, 1 swung up on one after i : another until I stood on one a few feet beneath ; the trio of branches on which the nest lay. i \ Ihiring my ascent, one of the eagles, with i < i vociferous cries, often wheeled within a dozen i i I feet of my head ; but, like the youngsters, as 1 11 ( had at the timcipiite as much courage as con- ! 1 duct, 1 stood in little fear of an attack. While posted on a strong limb, with a near branch to ;: ; hold on by, I looked into the nest. It was : , built of strong, heavy sticks, laid crosswise, j i ! perhaps two feet in thickness from bottom to I < top, and four or five feet wide on the surface, 11 covered with long, dry grass, and leaves.? | i i About midway on the nest lay two young oa- j; ! gles, one somewhat larger than the other, about the size of half-grown goslings, covered with I < ( the same sort of down, in color and appearance. Close by them lay two or three dead fish, half i J covered with blue-bottle flics, and giving off an I intolerable stench. With a stick which I drew [ out of the lower part of the nest, i tried to : poke one of the young towards me; but they 1 j turned up their claws in defiance, with a sort I i of hiss, and edged further away. i During this time, one of the old eagles had left the premises altogether, while the other < still kept wheeling and diving around, but ap- 1 preached no nearer than within a few feet of : me, as before. After awhile, my continued <. poking at the young ones so exasperated one i j of them, that he seized my stick so firmly with t his claws that I drew him within reach. Do , termined to hold divided empire with the old j t I eagies in rne possession ot tlieir young, the \ next process was t.? get the bird to the ground I c ; without damage, as i had 110 sack or basket in , a 1 which to deposit and let him safely down : bur, j . like other youngsters, who are seldom at a loss j 1 for expedients in mischief, apian was soon in- j t vented. Taking off my hat. coat, and vest, and j 1 laying them on the adjacent limb, my shirr J t j was rapidly drawn over my head, file sleeves | t j tied together at the wristbands, and thrown f j over my neck, and skirts bounds into a knot. I | thus making a sack, and the open collar and t bosom forming its mouth. Into this rm, ireceptacle our bellicose VoiingAmerica" was tl rapidly thrust, my outer garments replaced, j t; and, flushed with victory, I made a rapid tie- | il scent down the tree. No triumphant plunder- j ti er ever felt prouder of his trophy than I, and. j ^ like the kilted Highlander in ? Hob Hoy,'' I h could sing : tt The eagle. he warlord above. | And was lord of all below." j \ I took the eairledow" the fisherman's hut ! w :tn.r it'irr -pending an hour or two. biguii t?.? " consider what to do with the young ruffian I jj. had ^0 wantonly caught, for I had neither a j tj suitable place nor provisions on which to keep : j him, and wisely concluding that the ?tnonl, if ( not the better part of valor was discretion, f' gave him to the owner of the hut tor his own | j pastime. j Z( I saw no more of the eagle for some weeks, ; CI when I again visited the fisherman, and found j ^ the young, tawny-looking thing an enormous ! bird, lounging about the door, and grown stout and saucy from generous treatment and the ^ fish garbage on which he had been profusely p fed.' ' st The next report heard from the young sav- | age, a tew weeks after, was near being a tragic one. The wife of the fisherman having oeca- , sion one day to go to the shore, a few rods dis- tj tant, after a bucket of water, while there she f heard a scream from her child, which in her caution she had placed upon the bed when she u left the room. Hushing back, she found the ^ child prostrate on the tloor, screaming in terror and agony, the eagle on its breast, with oue claw transfixed into its face, and the other as approached, turned up, with open beak, -f at the mother's approach. With ^ the quicK energy of a woman iu extremity, she struck the eagle off with her foot, and caught w up the child, its face badly cut and bleeding, and deposited it at once in a place of safety. " This done, an axe lay at the door; and that eagle died, probably as sudden a death as ever ^ malefactor did on execution of any sort whatever. The little sufferer, after a few weeks' careful attention, recovered of its wound, but with a lastiug scar on its temple. That was the first and the last of the race u that we ever attempted to tame, and long will v the bald eagle " tower" over our homestead, r iu his "pride of place," ere we shall seek to t disturb his authority. t The quill of the bald eagle is peculiarly hard 2 and elastic, and to those who prefer a quill to t a metal pen, like ourselves, we commend their c use, when they can be obtained. We have ^ long used them.?American Agriculturist. ( it REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENTS. j The daring exploit of two women in Ninety- s Six District furnishes an instance of courage i as strikiug as auy remembered among the tra- t ditious of South Carolina. During the sieves 1 of Augusta and Cambridge, the patriotic en- i thusiasm that prevailed among the people t prompted to numerous acts of personal risk and i sacrifice. This spirit, encouraged by the sue- i cesses of Sumter and others over the British s arms, was earnestly fostered by Gen. Greene, r. whose directions marked at least the outline of s every undertaking. In the efforts made to t strike a blow at the invader's power, the sons i of the Martin family were among the most dis- 1 tinguished for active service rendered, and for ( injuries sustuiued at the enemy's hands. The 1 wives of the two eldest, during their absence, remained at home with their mother-in-law.? ( One evening intelligence came to them that a j courier, conveying important dispatch to one ' of the upper stations, was to pass that night , along the road, guarded by two British officers, j They determined to waylay the party, and, at j the risk of their lives, to obtain possession of . the papers. ] For this purpose the two youug women dis- < guised themselves in their husbauds' clothes, I and being well provided with arms, took their i station at a point on the ruad which they knew ? the escort must pass, it was already late, and 1 they had not waited long before the tramp of i horses was heard in the distance. It may be imagined with what amicus expectation the I heroines awaited the approach of the critical moment on which so much depended. The forest solitude around them, the silence of night, and the darkness, must have added to the terrors conjured up by busy fancy. Presently the courier appeared, with his attendant i guards. As they came close to the spot, the : disguised women leaped from their covert in the bushes, presented their pistols at the officers, and demanded the instant surrender of the party and their despatches. The men 1 were completely taken by surprise, and their alarm at the sudden attack, yielded a prompt -ubmission. The seeming soldiers put them 1 nil their parole, and having taken possession I if the papers, hastened home by a short cut through the woods. No time was lost in sending the important documents by a trusty mes- < <enger to (lenenal (Ireene. The adventure had a singular termination. The paroled ofli- 1 tiers, thus thwarted in their mission, returned t l>y the road they had taken, and stopping at j the house of Mrs. Martin, asked nccominoda- I riitn. as weary travellers, fur the nijrht. The i hustess inquired the reason of their returning 1 ?o soon after they had passed. They replied v by showing their paroles, sayinjr they had been ' J taken prisoners by two rebel lads. The ladies t rallied them upon their want of intrepidity.? Had you no arms ?" was asked. The otfi n ers answered that they had arms, but liar. :?een suddenly taken off their etuard, and wen illowed no time to use their weapons. They leparted the next morninir, havinjr no suspi:ion that they owed their capture to the very vomen whose hospitality they had claimed. The mother of this patriotic family was a naive of Caroline county. Virginia. Her name vas Elizabeth Marshall, and she was probably if the same family with Chief Justice Marshall, is she beloiured to the same neighborhood.? U'ter her marriaire to Abriim Martin. she renoved to his settlement bordering on the Tnlian nation, in Ninety-Six. now Kdcrelield )istriet. South Carolina. Theeountry at that ime was spareely aettled. most of its inhabiiints hoi 11^ pioneers from other States, chiefly rum Virginia ; and their neighborhood to the ndians had caused the adoption of some of heir savaire habits. The name of Edjreliehl ; said to have been iriven. because it was at hat period the edire or boundary of the respee exclaimed fervently?"'itianK uou, tney are e ;he children of the Republic." 1 Of the seven patriot brothers, six were spar- ^ ;d through all the dangers of partisan warfare u the region of the "dark aud bloody ground." i The eldest, William M. Martin, was a captain t jf artillery ; aud after having served with dis- J unction in the sieges of Savannah aud Char- t lestou, was killed at the siege of Augusta, just a ifter he had obtained a favorable position for i lis cannon, by elevating it on one of the towers 1 constructed by Oen. Pickens. It is related 1 :hat not long after his death, a British officer t oassiug to Port Ninety-Six, then in possession jf the Knglisb, rode out of his way to gratify t his hatred to the whigs by carrying the fatal i uews to the mother of this gallant young man. < He called at the house, aud asked Mrs. Martin if she had not a son in the army at Augus- < ible settlers and their cultivated fields. ('ivization. however, increased with the populaon. and in the time nt'tho Revolution, Ninety- n ix was anmug the foremost in sendinginto the tr eld it- "jiiota i)t" hardy and enterprising troops 'i > oppose the Rritish and their savage allies. At the eoiijiijeM";*? - * r me contest, Mrs. lartin had children, seven of whom were .,,...' 1 ? nongh t<> hear arms. These brave ! " jiing men. under the tuition and tuple of t(. icir parents, had crown up in attachment to sj, icir country, and ardently devoted to its -er- , ice. were ready ??n every oceasiou t<? encouu- (jr r the dangers of border warfare. When the t(. rst call tbr volunteers sounded through the i nd, the mother encouraged their patriotic vj ?al, boys." >he said ; " litrht for your iuntrv ! fight till death, if you must, but nevr let your country be dishonored. Were T a jy tail I would go with you." At another time, when (Ad. Cruder cotuman- ,j( L'd the Rritish at Cambridge, and Colonel rowne at Augusta, several Rritish officers jjj opped at her house for refreshment: and one p. f them asked how inauy sous had she. She ,r| lswcred?eight ; and to the ?(Uestion where ley all were, replied promptly : " Seven of j.j leui are engaged in the service of their eoun- t) y." "Really, madam." observed the officer, (j leeringly, "you have enough of them."? t, No.sir," said the matron, proudly, "I wish 1 ad fifty." I] Her house in the absence of her sons was u e<[Ueutly exposed to the depredation of the d ories. On one occasion they cut opeu her li lather beds, and scattered the contents.? w fheri the young men returned shortly after- c< aids, their mother bade them pursue the ma- g mders. One of the continental soldiers hav- it i?r been left at the house badly wounded, d W .? 11.. .... 1...1 Irs. -Hurilll K1 UUly UllL'UUL'U UI1U IJUincu mm .11 his recovery. A party of the loyalists who w eard of his being there, came with the inten- u ion of taking his life, but she found means to a: idc him from their search. p The only daughter of Mrs. Martin, Letitia, a narried Capt. Edmund Wade, of Virginia, 1* /ho fell with his commander, Gen. Montgome- u y, at the siege of Quebec. At the time of o he siege of Charleston by Sir Henry Clinton, J he widow was residing with her mother at si Ninety-Six. Her son Washington Wade was I hen live years old, and remembers many oc- e :urrences connected with the war. The house I vas about 100 miles in a direct line west of c Charleston. He recollects walking in the pi- t izza on a calm evening with his grandmother, v V light breeze blew from the east, and the o :ound of heavy caunon was distinctly heard a n that direction. The sound of cannon heard s it that time, and in that part of the State they s tnew must come from the besieged city. As a eport after report reached their ears, the agi- t ation of Mrs. Martin increased. She knew lot what evils might be announced; she knew b lot but the sound might be the knell of her o sons, three of whom were then in Charleston, b rheir wives were with her, and partook of the t same heart-chilling fears. They stood still for u i few minutes, each wrapped in her own pain- d 'ul and silent reflections, till the mothor at a ength, lifting her hands and eyes toward heaven r - - ? 1 n 1 ?1 ' ta. She replied in the affirmative. "Then T saw his brains blown out ohtltf 'h'ld of battle," said the monster, whoanticipated his triumph in the sight of a parent's hsjoiiy. Hut the effect of the startling anmitm'i'inent was other than heexpeeted. Terrible :^ was the shock, and aggravated by the ruthless cruelty with which her bereavement was made known, no woman's weakness was snil'cr'"'- to appear.? After listeniiijr to the dreadtiii''ccital, the only reply made by the American dame was, "lie Huiiu not navo uiea in a noon'1' cause . i ne evident clnmrin of the officer as he turned and rode away, is still remembered in the family [raditioii. v This oldest son married W ?:rii?jr. of Dorchester, when she was hu: fourteen years ?f aqe. She was the dauqhn v of Benjamin Wa rin?r. who afterwards becaiu*' one of the eariest settlers of Columbia when established as he seat of government in the State. The jrineijdes of the devolution had been tauqht n-r from childhood; and her etforts to promote fs advancement were joined by those of her lusbaiiu's family. She was no of the two vho risked their lives to seize upon the dos?atehes as above related. IKr husband's unllllolx ili.Mth h?ff 1IMt lk tlllMi. 1*. ill II ir < ]? 1 I I I foil ? ? vivui ii iv<ii n nil iuu? ' "un_ \yiiuiii i ii ?two sons ami a daughter: but slut never narritul ajiain. THE EIGHT OP LOVE. When nijrlit enfolds lii'i* sable win:: Around (lie weary earth, Aii' 1 stars their holy radiance Hiujr Where purest thoughts liuv< liirth. Bear memories of the allien time Beam Brightly train afar: Heart-gems in lave'" clear fli-.veo they *hin<\ Thy truth the fairest "tar. The sun which >01 our pathway -miled. In happy 'day* of yore. When hope's young dreams w re hrief as wiM. Hath *et to rise no more. But not le*> heautiful to me This lingering chasteneil 1: lit. That Mewls with every thnilpl af thee. And cheer* life's darkest inrht. From Heaven descends thej.cred tlame Which feeds atfeetioii * tir. Through long dim years, tar ive the same. While earthly Haines expii . Light of our *ouls I thy inys' > power. Will crown e'er death's low -hadowed hour With immortality ! JOAN OF ABC. The story of Joan of Arci.s familiar to all. ut a doubt loutf existed ;e tu the exact na- : ire of her eharu-ter. FaJii-.ig a victim to vaehery, and executed by the enemies of her itinrry, every means wa.s akcti. V' her tnur- TtTs. to blacken l*-'1' reputation. Knglish ' istory. even to ?lay, ?oiyrally unjust ln-r. 'I".. . t ? i sfl^llsliui'. A c in ?;oniporary writers, is that Joan was an cuthuast, who being endowed with a vivid imajfittioti. realized what, to others were mere yams. The advanced science of the nineenfh century recognize* *u< li phenomena. >an honestlv believed that -be saw angelic shins, that she was in conuiuuicatiou with j >iritual advisers and that heaven had deluded tw hi-r the task of liberaan?r h*-r country mil the Kuglish yoke. After having been the terror of the inva rs, for uiuru than V year, ami achieved a tries of >uccesses whic\ eeased only with the benition of France, .loan was captured by a irtyof Burgundians. who had joined the finish against their native land and were then . seiging Compiagne. To the disgrace of her in jr. Charles tin; seventh, no effort was made ? procure her exchange. To the still greater isgrace of tin; French prelates, they sought ? get her into the hands of the Inquisition, istigatcd by a secret leaning to the British, [or doom was not left long in doubt. The nscrupulous men, who directed English affairs uring the infancy of Henry the Sixth, beoving that the disgrace and death of Joan as necessary to the retention of the British inquests, determined to buy her of the Buruudians. Ten thousand livrcs, and an unnuy of three hundred more, large sums in that ay, were the price of her blood. To have merely executed the poor girl 'ould not have answered the ends of her enelies It was requisite to destroy her influence s well as to take away her lifb; for this purose there was nothing so efficacious, in that ge, as a charge of sorcery. The traitorous 'rench prelates lent their aid to this maligant plot. The bishop of Jieauvajs and live thers, with the Vicar-General of the then 'rench Inquisition, were the prominent judges elected to be the tools of the British party, ivery ingenuity of mental torture was exhaustd in order to induce Joan to to crime, ler answers were perverted ; slle was denied * 1 J - ouusel; tne racK was tnreateuu -} aim even he pretended authority of the church was inched against her. At last, on the promise f life, she was induced to sign a confession rtfully put before her. Hut nothing could ave her, for not only did the brutal English oldiery, who had been prejudiced against her s a witch, cry out for her blood, but even he nobility demanded it. The vile arts which were now adopted, to iriug her to the stake, would seem incredible n any authority less positive than that which las come down to us. At last the base inrigues succeeded. Having laid aside the uale attire, which she wore before her conlenination, she was tricked into resuming it, nd for this was condemned to the flames as a elapsed heretic and sorcerer. Placed in a art, she was hurried to the market-place of loun, where the dreadful doom was to be in LicteJ. The stake was fixed upon a lofty scaffold )ot uuly that all might see her suffer, bul hat the executioner might not be able to apjroach her to shorten her agonies. Broughf o the foot of the pile, Joan knelt down, and liter imploring pardon for herself and audiblj orgiving her enemies, turned to the bystand;r.s and besought them to pray for her. Hei jehavior was so devout, humble and touching ,hat sympathy for her became contagious.? Fhe bishop of Beauvais himself melted into ears; the Bishop of Boulogne sobbed aloud ind even the English cried, the cruel Win jhester with the rest. But this emotion was only temporary, lie covering himself, Beauvais began to read th< | act of condemnation, in which the dying girl tl ! was mocked with false accusations of schism, a i idolatry and magic. When the terrible sen- a tence was pronounced, Joan, turning to the b crowd, asked for a cross. An Englishman, o rudely fashioning one out of a stick, handed ft it to her. She took it, kissed it devoutly, tl and presed it to her bosom. A priest hast- tl ening to the church of St. Sauver's, brought n a crucifix, which she embraced, having first ti placed the other under her garments next to h the skin. While he was exhorting her, the h English began to he impatient, one of them ti rudely asked the priest if he intended them to ei dine there. Immediately, and without wait- si ing for an official order, others tore her away, uj ; and dragged her to the pile. As she gazed ti ' on the great city, the motionless ami silent | crowd, and the infuriated invaders, she cried, hi i "Ah ! Rouen, Rouen, much do I fear you bl will suffer for my death." k< j A hove her head was a placard, denouncing fa her as a heretic, apostate and idolater. When pi she had been made fast to the stake, the exe- si cutioncr, from below, set lire to the faggots.? si At the sight, nature gave way for a moment, st and she uttered a cry: but seeing that the Hi priest, who had ascended the scaffold with her, su , showed no signs of fear, she forgot her peril in w the thought of him, and begged him to do- sc scend. The smoke was now mounting around in her. ()ccaaionally tongues of tire shot up al- el most to her person. Beauvais, in this extrem- si ity, advanced to the foot of the pile, hoping w : to extract some admission from her. But she al only answered, with mild reproach, "T die ea through you." Tn vain lie sought to make, her fo 1 accuse her king. Though deserted by Charles, gt ; she would not defame him, but defended him Wi to the last. "Whether I have done well or B ill." she said, heroically, "he is faultless." in U 1.. .^ A . il lit ,\i nisi mi: names reacnea nor person. A- sc train, nature succombed for an instant, and sii ! <he shrieked for holy water. Hut immediate- nj ly she recovered herself. She called on God. iti : She protested her innocence. From the foot to ; of the pile, the Dominican, whom she had it, forced to descend, encouraged her with words, m : holding out his crucifix to her as lie spoke.? ui i At times the smoke and flames concealed her m ' entirely from view, but her voice was still as heard invoking God and his saints; nor was afc i a cry of fear or a murmur of pain ever again h;i wrung from her. The spectators could not bi endure the awful sight. Many fled in horror ki from the square; thousands were in tears; some prayed aloud for her with ehokiDg sobs. |fo A few only ot' her bitterest enemies attempted*!th to laugh. One of these, a brutal Englishman,.! VJ) v.i.- < ?>,,ut to throw a fresh faggot oq t.h<? Ti when <ndcUfv,-? ? 1 ? ' \ I and crying, "Jesus!" she died. Twenty years after the French king did th tardy justice to the martyred Joan. A commission, procured from the Pope, after hearing the depositions of more than a hundred witnesses, pronounced her innocent, and declared her sentence null. On the snot where in A ?" j she was executed a cross was erected, which th has subsequently been replaced by a statue of to her. Iu the succeeding reign, still more ampie amends were made to her, for her judges fe were ordered to be prosecuted. Two of them cc only survived, but these were tried, condemned and executed.?Pefrrsoti's Mwjazine. of ST. PETERSBURG BIRD MARKET. Tl Perhaps for a stranger the most interesting e< portion of this world of markets in that of the C} Tshukin Dvor, where the birds are sold. Two fe long rows of booths are full of living spcci- d< mens of ornithology; pidgeons, fowls, geese, m ducks, swans, larks, bull-finches, siskins and ft hundreds of other singing birds, are there ti collected, and form the most picturesque and e.? variegated menageries that can be imagined, ol Each booth Is of wood and open at the front, bl so that .the whole of its contents may be seen ni at once by the passing stranger, who is saluted in with such a concert of cackling, crowing, chat- ai teriug, cooing piping, and warbling, as would ol suffice to furnish the requisite idyllic supply ti of melodies for a hundred villages. Between st the opposite booths are usually such bridges pi as I have already described, from which the tl pictures of saints are suspended, for the edifi- m cation of the devout. On these bridges and rc on the booths whole swarms of pidgeons arc a; constantly fluttering about, the peaceful Bus- w sian being a great lover of this gentle bird.? oi Each swarm knows its own roof, and the birds tl allow themselves to be caught without much B difficulty when a bargain is about to be con- tl eluded. The pidgcon is never eaten by a r< Russian, who would hold it a sin to harm an e? animal in whose form the Holy Ghost is said w to have manifested itself. Pidgeons are brought oi therefore, only as pets, to be fed and schooled s< by their masters. It is curious to see a Rus- al sian merchant directing the fight of his docile scholars. With a little flag fastened to a long K staff he couveys his signals to them, makes ai them at his will rise higher in the air, fly to h the right or left, or drop to the ground as if f< struck by a bullet from a rifle. e: The poor little singing birds?the larks, the nightingales, linnets, bull-finches, &c?must c< be of a hardier race than in more southern 01 lands j for in spite of the bitter frost they chir- * rup away merrily, and salute with their songs everv struggling ray of sunshine that finds its w way into their gloomy abodes. The little creatures receive during the whole long winter not p one drop of water, for it would be useless to tl offer them what a moment afterwards would b be converted into a petrified mass. Their v troughs arc accordingly filled only with snow, p i' which they must liquefy in their own beaks ; when they wish to assuage their thirst, C Moscow is famed for its cocks, and here the ^ > Moscow cock may be seen proudly striking n 1 about, in cages and out of them. The best a r pidgeons are said to come from Novgorod, and c Finland furnishes the chief supply of singing ^ r birds ; geese are brought even from the con, fines of China, to be sold as rarities in the t Tshkiu Dvor, after a journey of more than c ) 4000 miles ; grey squirrels may be seen rolling a ; about in their cages like incarnate quicksilver; c while rabbits and guinea-pigs, without num- J ber, gambol their time away in their little ( - wooden hutches. Within the booth, a living > | centre of all this living merchandise, behold c lie merchant olosely esconced in his wolfskin, I nd ready to dispose of his little feathered serfs ( t any acceptable price. At the back of the J ooth, be sure, there hangs a saintly picture f some sort, its little lamp shedding a cheer- o ll light to guard the feathered crowd against e ic evil influence of intruding demons; but q lere are evil spirits that the good saint canot banish. Man is there to hold in chains or t! ) sentence to death, according as it may suit' ( is calculations of profit, or the caprices of s is palate/ On shelves around are ranged the ophies of his murderous tribe, and the north- ii n swans, the heathcocks, (reptshiki) and a low-white partridges (kurapatki*) are piled tl p under the very cages from which the cap- ve larks warble their liquid notes. Tt is astonishing what a quantity of these j irds are yearly consumed at the luxurious ta-1 Ics of St. Petersburg. In winter the cold sops the meat fresh, and at the same time 11 cilitates its conveyance to market. The ^ irtridges some mostly from SaratofF, the ^ vans from Finland, Livonia and Esthonia a lpplv heathcocks and grouse, and the wide eppes must furnish the trapp geese which 0 utter over their endless plans where the Cos- u ick liunts them on horseback, and kills them itli his formidable whip. All these birds as *( 1011 as the life-blood has flown, are converted ^ ito stone by the frost, and, packed up in huge rests, arc sent for sale to the capital. Whole ?* edge loads of snow white hares find their " ay to the market; the little animal are usu- P1 ly frozen in a running position, with their ^ irs poiuted, and their legs stretched out be- m re and behind, and when placed on the ^ ound, look, at the first glance, s if they U1 ere in the act of escaping from . lie hunter. S* ear's flesh is also sometimes ofiereu for sale n< this market; and here and there may be en a frozen reindeer lying in the snow by the w Je of a booth, its hairy snout stretched forth ? ion the ground, its knees doubled up under 111 > body, and its antlers rising majestically in- se the air; it looks as if, on our approaching , it would spring up and dash away once ^ ore in search of its native forests. The ighty elk, likewise, is no rare guest in this SI arket, where it patiently presents its horns a perch for the pidgeons that are fluttering ai iout, till, little by little, the axe and the saw lvc left no fragment of the stately animal. 01 it every part of it has gone its way into the n' tchens of the wealthy. 3e Similar markets for birds and game will be und in every large Russian city. Indeed jul e habits and fashions of the Russian markets Thosc of Moscow * > om ihr,of Tobolks;:inJ f emsclves equally servile in their lmitanCiTOi e metropolitan bazaars. ? T From ihc Churlotte Whig. BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN. ^ Our neighbors of York District, S. C., hav- j g proposed to celebrate the Anniversary of ^ e Battle of King's Mountain and have invid the People of North-Carolina to partici- ^ itc in the proceedings ou the occasion. Some ^ w days since a letter was received from a immittee of the People of Yorkville, by soipe C( :ntlemen of this place, requesting the People ^ ' Mecklenburg to select an Orator .to reprc- ei lit the People of the State on the occasion. fcj. he People of this country who were consult- ^ I on the subject, felt of course much delicar in assuming to select an Orator for their J "? . , ? , w I low-citizcns at large, all 01 whom were as jeply interested as themselves, and would iturally feel some concern in the proceedings. ^ , was, however, difficult to affect.comn^unica- ^ uns with the various counties of the West? specially the Mountain counties?whose brave m Beers and soldiery achieved on the memora- ^ le battle so much glory for themselves and so uch success to their country. It was besides ^ oportant that the State should be represented id her historical claim to a large share in one F the most remarkable battles of the revolu- ^ on be fully recognized. Under these circumances, and with the best motives, the Peole of Mecklenburg did not instate to perform a ic duty assigned to them and have u?ani" I lously chosen a son of North-Carolina, whose sputation as one of the first Orators of the J jo, is as wide as our common country, and hose thorough acquaintance with the history " f the State, fit him in the highest degree for , le duty of representing her on that occasion. , ?r. Hawks, it is understood, is now writing le History of North-rCarolina, and with this jvolutionary evebtis perhaps, as well-informd as any other living man. His appointment * ill be hailed with gratification by the people J f the entire State, and we will not permit our- ^ jives to doubt but that he will be present, lould his health, and other circumstances at ^ II permit. The celebration of the Battle of iing's Mountain with such orators as Hawks j ad Preston, will be one of the most interest- ^ )g events which has occurred in the South ^ >r many years. TVe hope the People of West- ^ rn North-Carolina, from whose mountains and vers, a citizen soldiery, under whose well-tri- ^ i officers, rushed to the rescue of their invad- ^ ^rmrifrv trill i/fi<lmr /-?? I A ' nu> ^UIU|/1 UU IUV/ OjJUl/ UUUBVUlil* ? id to patriotism and to glory, in such nuin- . crs as will show there appreciation of the viric and services of their fathers. ? b Below we append the resolutions of the peo- ^ lc of Mecklenburg. We hope that each of 3( lie Western counties of North Carolina will q e present with a delegation, and that steps t] rill be immediately taken to secure such a re- ^ resentation as may be worthy of the State. ^ Whereas the citizens of York District, S)., have requested the People of North Caro- c ina to participate in the celebration of the An- t iversary of the Battle of King's Mountain, j nd have requested the People of Mecklenburg ^ ounty to select an Orator to represent the t itate of North Carolina. Resolved, That we, the People of Meuklen>urg, feel it a patriotic duty to participate with * iur fellow-citizens of South Carolina in an t ppropriate commemoration of this Battle, so 9 ;reditable to the valor and patriotism of the c People of Virginia, North Carolina and South fj Carolina. a Resolved, That the People of Mecklenburg iounty do request the Rev. Fraaeii L. Hawkf, ). D., of the city of New York, to deliver au )ration for and in behalf of the People of forth Carolina upon that occasion. Resolved, That a committee of three persons, f whom the Chairman shall be one, be appoiutd to confer with the Rev. F. L. Hawks and reuest him to perform the duty assigned him. Resolved, That the committee appointed on his occasion, be requested to select another )rator should the one selected on this occaion for any cause fail to perform the duty. Resolved, Shat the proceedings of theineetag be published in the papers of this town nd the Yorkville and other newspapers of his and other States. O. W. Caldwell, Chairman. W. K. Reid, Secretary. STORY OF SNAKE CHARMING. Mr. C. A. Bowen, of New Hampshire, has lrnished the Boston Traveller with the fol mt.. f ? i a . . * miug. j.ne luciaenu, u is stated, are strictj true, and occurred iu the town of Banbury, bout twenty years ago. An interesting little child, only four years f age, son of Mr. David Ball of that place, sed frequently to call for bread and milk beveen its regular meals, an when it was given ) him, would take his dish audgo out a short istance from the house, sit down upon a large :one and eat it. Even at meal times instead f sitting down at the table with the rest of le family, the child would take his plate of otato and butter, and go out to his rock and icre finish his meal alone. If his mother rsonstratcd and insisted upon his sitting at le table, he would cry piteously, and at times :terly refuse to eat anything. This was retried as a whim of the child's, and but little jtice was taken of it, and, being the baby, ; was allowed to have pretty much his own ay. He was hearty and rugged, had as uch bread and milk as he wanted, and durg the day usually played out doors by himlf. One day, as usual, Johnny, after receiving is bread and milk, went out to his stone to it, but presently returned and asked for another >oou. His father being present felt curious i know bow Johnny could eat with two spoons, id perhaps thinking to surprise and have a ttlfi fun with his dnrlinr* hnv. nniptl-o sliuued j, ?j , j rr it of the back door to the corner of a shed ;ar by to watch him. The child seated himilf upon the rock, and without offering to iuch his favorite beverage, sat nearly a minte in silence; getting impatient, he called in a w voice, 'Peckled coat! peckled coat! Come ick and get your dinner!' The moment the hild's voice was heard, sooner ,.orawi?a fr?m~bciiA&hia s jap; an(j tjjere jiled itself nearly half up, and in a moment as eating from the same dish with the ohild. he child all the while talking to the snake 1 its low plantive voice, every now & then lookig up as if fearful that some one might over hear im, patting him with his little hand, calling im his little -'peckled coat/ the while, and rging him to eat upon his own side of the ish, and whenever this rule was deviated from c got a gentle tap on the head with the spoon. The father looked until in his agony he )uld look no longer; seizing a club he sprung - destroy tLe snake. But he was not quick lough. Jp. a moment the snake was under te rock. Tiie child walked quietly into the ousc without uttering a word, and would not )eak fqr some time. Twj.ce after this the boy as allowed the snake out, but the father was nahle to get near enough to kill it. At last le child was confined to the house and the ithcr, by the assistance of others, pried up the one and killed the reptile. The snake was F the species known in that vicinity as the lilk adder, was nearly three feet long, and he* veen three and four inches round the body. When the child learned the fate of the snake, s grief could not be described, and was most ainful to witness. For hours after, it would ry piteously. ? Oh, father, you have killed ly poor peckled coatsobbing the while as : its little heart would break j and for weeks fter this, he would go aud sit ou this stone, nd mournfully call for his "peckled coai."? t was with difficulty he could be made to eat nyun ' an(^ fc>rnearly fhree months he coninuedto pirns aT"7'UIltil he was reduced to a lerc skeleton. But tins ux!Z:tural 2"ef in ime wore away. He is now a hale and heary young man, and withal much respected by nose who know him. Age of Animals.?A hear rarely exceed* wonty ypnra A. Jog ltroo twcuty ) eurs J J rolf twenty ; a fox fourteen or sixteen years, jions are long lived. One has been known d live to the age of seventy years j a squirrel r hare seven or eight years ; rabbits seven, llephants have been known to live to the great ge of four hundred years. When Alexander le Great had conquered Phorus, king of Inia, he took a great elephant, which had )ught valiantly for the king, and named him Ljax, dedicated him to the sun, and let him o, with this inscription, "Alexander, the son f Jupiter, hath dedicated Ajax to the sun." his elephant was found with this inscription iree hundred and fifty years afterward. Pigs ave been known to live to the age of thirty ears j the rhinoceros to twenty. A horse has eeu known to live to the age of sixty-two, ut averages from twenty to thirty. Camels unAfimou HUM L 1?5 mvv wv vug age U1 IJUC UUUUICU."" tags arc long-lived. Sheep seldom exceed be age of ten. Cows live about fifteen years. )uvicr considers it probable that whales someimes live one thousand years. A swan has ttained the age of two hundred years. Peliuns arc long-lived. A tortoise has been known o live to the age of one hunred aud soven.?nsecte, as a general rule, are short-lived, hough there are a good many exceptions to he rule. Thbek WoNDiUis.-'If ever I reach Heaven/ aid the eminently pious Dr. Watts, 'I expect o find three wonders there. First to uiuet ome I had not expected to meet there; sound, to miss some whom I had expected to nd there; but third, the greatest wonder of 11, will be to find myself there!' 4^ We talk, but God dots what he pltaits* iiMM